#just got a response from a different person that says 'it looks like our records indicate you picked this order up so it should be good'

[anotherpapercut]

nothing makes me want to do terrorism more than being mildly inconvenienced by a corporation

[turbulentscrawl]

I hope you dont mind me sending a req and it should be angsty right?

I absolutely adore your modern reader and i very much like andrew. So do you mind me sending a request about the modern reader with andrew part 2? To connect with the angsty part, personally i want you to write something about how the modern reader feels lonely for being the only one who comes from the modern timeline, like feeling alienated or estrangement from everyone who comes from the past and struggling with the no internet or new media to consume (personally i think anyone who is from our time could probably feel a withdrawal of internet. I know i do. It suck and i look crazy when it happened.)

Ooo.. considering how our mannerism, fashion, and hygiene routine differ a lot from the past can also cause friction with others can be a good angsty idea. And also food, assuming the reader come from a well off family, their food would looked like what royalty ate. With salt, pepper, cinnamon cost a fortune back in time. You can go wild, i am sorry if this is a long req, i merely gives suggestion. Dont mind me if you dont want to write it.

I think this is the longest individual scene I've written so far! I got carried away ahaha. Actually, this might need to become a multi-part series. ewe

Warnings: fem reader (it was relevant for this), hurt and comfort

Another day of staring at the wall. Or the garden, as this particular moment would have it.

It had been about three months since your arrival now, according to Freddy. (Tracking the days was the one thing he was good for outside of matches, as far as you were concerned. The guy was meticulous with records-keeping, you’d give him that. But he was also a dick.) Three months of boredom, monotony, and a critical lack of stimuli.

The first few weeks had been fine, if only because you were too busy trying to survive a potential witch hunt. Turns out, being hated and blamed for everything has a way of distracting the mind from its homesickness. But the worst of that had passed now, leaving you to take in the reality of your situation: you were more removed from your old life than anyone else here. Your entire way of life was gone.

There was no internet, no television. There was a library, but it was only ever added to at the whim of the man named Orpheus. There were no cars, and there was nowhere to go. There wasn’t even a washing machine—everyone took turns doing their clothes by hand. The stove in the kitchen was gas, and fickle. The doctor, Emily, and Luca made efforts to introduce you to the ways of this more ‘primitive’ environment, but the sheer disappointment of it all made it hard to make an effort. The hygiene standards were different, too, and it was jarring to see what some of these people considered ‘clean.’

“What are you doing out here?” A voice calls. You jump a bit, rattling the chains of the bench swing you’ve occupied. When you turn around, the ‘Gravekeeper’ is behind you in his dark casual wear. The moon is but a sliver in the sky, so if it weren’t for the paleness of his face and hair you might not have seen him at all in the darkness.

“What does it look like?” you ask in response and face forward again. ‘Andrew’ isn’t a bad person, from what you can tell. He doesn’t seem to hate you like some of the others do. But he’s defensive, sticks his foot in his mouth a lot, and you’re too tired for an argument.

“…It’s past curfew,” he says, voice moving around the swing slowly. He’s in your periphery now, hands folded over his chest like he’s still holding that shovel of his. It’s some kind of comfort item for him, you think, but he doesn’t have it with him.

“Luca said that’s just a suggestion,” you reply. “And even if it’s not, you’re out here too.” Andrew pauses after you say that, awkwardly shuffling in his spot, looking between you and the garden. There are no birds, no crickets out. You can hear him swallow thickly in the silence.

“I saw you from the upstairs window,” he says slowly. “I…thought I should come check.”

“Why?” You’re waiting for a ball to drop. To be tricked.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Andrew says, wiping his hands on his pants. Sweat, maybe. “When you first showed up…I thought you were really loud. You and that little box both…. You used to play that terr— eh, that music on it all the time. But I haven’t heard it in a while.” Your eyes are drawn to him as he explains. You can’t help it, you’re stunned. Not many of the other survivors bothered to show concern for you, and they often weren’t around because they had their on things to attend to. Luca had his inventions, Ada had Emil’s treatments, Luchino his research. You didn’t know Andrew paid any mind to you. He mostly kept to himself.

“I’m stewing,” you whisper, answering his initial question.

“…Do you…need to talk about it?” he asks.

“You don’t want to hear it,” you reply quickly. Andrew scoffs, a flash of his attitude returning.

“I asked didn’t I? I may not understand half the stuff you say but that doesn’t mean by ears don’t work,” he snaps weakly. It sounds like something someone back home would say. It sounds genuine. You look at Andrew again, now with tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat.

“I feel gross,” you croak. Andrew was scowling for a second, but your words shock his face back into something more relaxed. He shifts around again, awkward, unsure, and steps towards the bench. You stop rocking it long enough to let him join you and he sits closer than you would have expected. “I hate it here.” Andrew nods, watching your face, your fidgeting hands, your bouncing knees, and everything spills out like vomit.

“It’s all gone. Everything I knew. There’s nothing to do here besides survive, necessities and shit, and everyone fucking hates me here. No one talks like I’m used to, or behaves like I’m used to, or treats me like I’m used to—but I’m the odd one out so it feels like it’s all my fault that I don’t fit in. I miss my friends, my clothes, my room, my food. I miss my movies, I miss my technology, I miss my products—you guys don’t even treat hygiene the same way we did back home for fuck’s sake--” You’d learned early on that it was considered odd to bathe daily. Water reserves weren’t a concern in the manor, but everyone mostly stuck to the routines they knew. The only saving grace was that you hadn’t had a menstrual cycle since before you arrived. One less thing to worry about, at least.

“—and thank god, because none of you even KNOW what a tampon is!” Andrew makes a face that’s something between embarrassment and horror. You can tell from the way he’s subtly looking himself over that he wonders if he seems gross to you, but you’re too deep in your own misery to bring it up right now.

“And I’m sick of how some of them men here treat me! I don’t give a fuck what it was like for you all, I’m an equal to you all, god damn it, not a punching bag, or a whore, or unpaid maid! Like—I get that you all don’t realize what you’re doing—I get you haven’t been told it’s bad yet, but I’m gonna crack Edgar’s glass jaw if he suggests I wear a skirt ‘like the other ladies’ one more time!”

“If it helps,” Andrew says quietly, “I think that’s just him liking skirts. He’d probably wear one himself if he had an excuse.”

“I don’t care,” you gasp, grabbing Andrew’s forearm suddenly. He tenses under your touch, blushes. “It’s—it’s just all of it together! Look, I-I already feel bad being so angry! I understand why I seem scary, and I understand the world was a different place for me, but I hate that I have to say goodbye to all of it just because no one wants to learn about how things were for me! Fuckin—Emily was interested in how I lived through Covid, but all that got me was being treated like a plague rat. You guys don’t even get sick here! And Norton asked about the economy, but now he thinks I’m some rich bitch when I wasn’t even middle class! And Fiona acts like I’m some beast because of how I talk and curse so much! And Kevin asks about me feeling safe, but then he treats me like a damsel who needs constant rescue! I just…I just….it’s always something! I just want someone to treat me like I’m normal again.”

You crumple into full sobs, forehead landing on Andrew’s sturdy shoulder. He’s completely silent while you break down. His free hand eventually comes up to hold the back of your neck, a gesture that tells you it’s fine for you to be there, against him. Andrew is not a man of many comforting words, but this is enough, you decide. It’s an effort, which feels like more than you’ve gotten in some time.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, but when you finally calm down Andrew suggests you get some sleep.

“I’m not tired,” you croak. You are. It’s a lie. But if you sleep it will be tomorrow instead of being this moment of rare comfort. Andrew hums an acknowledgement.

“Alright. Neither am I," he says.

You think that’s a lie, too.

[dandylovesturtles]

once again writing fanfic for an AU that's not mine

uh hi so I guess it is Crying About Future Donnie Hours except this is actually a different future Donnie than the one everyone else is crying about.

I have wanted to write something for @kathaynesart 's Replica for awhile now and I got an idea and I decided to use @tmntaucompetition as an excuse to write and post it, so I guess you could say this is propaganda I didn't expect it to be the day after my poll though so I kinda scrambled a bit aaaaa lol

Replica is one of my favorite ROTTMNT comics, it's one of the first I found after I watched the movie, and I love it so much. If you haven't read it please do! However, there is one part of the comic in particular (and especially one line in particular) that has stuck with me since I first read it, and I think about it a lot. So consider this my little homage to that part of the comic, and to the character who says it.

Also there is a short section of this that is just dialogue from the comic so obviously all credit for that dialogue goes to Kat!

And Kat I really hope you don't mind me playing around in your sandbox a bit /)_(\

Anyway I don't normally title these but I did give the gdoc for this one the title: The Needed Functions to Appreciate It

I hope you enjoy!

~~~

As an AI, experiencing the apocalypse was different.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. did not have to feel the aching gnaw of hunger, or the bite of the cold. He did not feel the sting of acid rain on skin, or the seeping of blood from injury. All the physical sensations his family and friends suffered, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was spared them all.

That did not mean he didn’t feel.

…

“Hey Dee?”

The “Hm?” he got in response was distracted. Donnie was often distracted those days. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. didn’t resent him for it. He knew how busy Donnie is - he cataloged and prioritized the to-do list himself, after all.

“I still have the timers Raph asked me to set for his training in the system, and all his old records. What…” He hesitated. “What should I do with them?”

“Oh.” That got Donnie to pause in his work oh so briefly. His finger tapped twice on the enter key without pressing. “You can delete all of that. Might as well free up memory space where we can.”

“Okay.” It was the right answer. Members of the resistance were allowed to set timers and save some personal files on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s system, and protocol dictated that forty eight hours after loss of vitals, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. should clear such files.

It had been three hundred and fifty seven hours since Raph flatlined. He should have cleared these ages ago.

“Hey Dee,” he said again, more quietly this time, and Donnie actually looked away from his work and gave him his attention.

He hadn’t had a physical body since a raid over a year before; he was just an artistic representation on the monitor. Donnie promised to make him a new one, but S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. could see both the parts inventory and the to-do list and he doubted he would be able to do that. Usually it didn’t bother him, but he thought that day that it bothered him a little.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, and Donnie’s face shifted to something more sad.

“Ah. You have developed a lot of sentimentality…” Donnie sighed, not unkindly. “Well, you can keep it. I won’t make you delete it.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. bounced around the monitor a moment while he mulled it over. Donnie didn’t look away, though one of his battleshell arms took up the task of typing on his computer.

“Isn’t that not good, though, dude? Like… it’s useless now. It’s just taking up space.”

“Yes… sentimentality and practicality are often in direct conflict.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes roving to the ceiling. “Sometimes we just can’t let things go, even against our better judgment, because they remind us of something or… someone.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. zoomed himself in so he filled more of the screen. “Do you get sentimental, Dee?”

Donnie’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Yes, unfortunately so. I find it vexing… though, Mikey would say, “That’s what makes you a person, Donnie, don’t fight it!” or something like that.” 

“But if it makes you hold on to useless stuff, or do things that aren’t necessary, isn’t that bad?”

“Ah, such is the nature of emotions, Shelldon - they often lead us to do things that are, for a lack of a better word, suboptimal… Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a switch so I could just turn the pesky things off. I would focus so much better if I never had to feel… anxious or frustrated or… or sad.” He slumped forward, hugging his arms around himself. “If I didn’t have to… to miss anyone.”

“...That’s the worst one,” said S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., and Donnie nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, it is.” He turned to face S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., eyes glossy. “But-”

ERROR: Memory file corrupted.

.

.

.

.

“It is a convincing replica. Expertly crafted. You act just like him… Be careful that it does not interfere with our intended purpose.”

“Need I remind you, one of my core purposes is to act as a support to Donatello’s family. That includes you, even if you have chosen to forego the needed functions to appreciate it.”

“A necessary purge to keep the Kraang’s whispers at bay.”

“Was it? That is not what Donatello ever wished of you. Even when you decided to take on this burden.”

“Not having to ‘feel’ has its… benefits.”

“And Donatello was quite firm that you not lock yourself away-”

“Such advanced artificial intelligence, yet you still fail to recognize your own ignorance.”

“To what, exactly?”

“To the bliss in not having to miss him.”

.

.

.

.

Username: OMEGABOOTYYYSHAKER9000

Password: ****************

MEMORY FILE ACCESS AUTHORIZED

Enter date: XX/XX/20XX XX:XX

RETRIEVING MEMORY FILE. . . SUCCESS

AUDIOVISUAL PLAYBACK BEGIN

“But even if missing them keeps you from performing optimally… Running from bad emotions means running from the good ones, too.” Donatello sighed. “At least, that’s what Mikey said to me after Papa… And it took me awhile, but I realized he was right. Don’t tell him I said that, though, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Your secret is safe with me, dude.”

“Thank you, Shelldon.” He reached with his hand and touched the screen, and even though they couldn’t actually feel each other, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. moved like he was nuzzling his palm. “When you see Raph’s training records, it makes you sad, but also makes you remember all the things you loved about him, right?”

“I guess, yeah… He’d always scratch my head when I came to give him his training report. When I had a body.”

“Mm, so that’s why you always went to do it in person.” Donatello chuckled, rubbing his thumb on the monitor. He was sad, then, thinking that he couldn’t build S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. a proper body. Always lacking the time and materials…

“Is it worth it, though?” asked S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.. “The good feelings, when there’s bad feelings, too?”

“Maybe that’s one of the great mysteries of life, Shelldon. All I know is… I don’t want to give them up. Not anymore. And… it’s easier to deal with, when you’re not alone.” Donatello pulled his hand back, and looked at him very seriously. “Anata wa hitorijanai. That’s as true for you as it is for any of us. Your family will always be here for you, when you miss Raph, or anyone else.”

Maybe it made S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. feel better. He smiled, as much as his facial design would allow.

“Okay. And I’ll always be here for you too, Dee.”

“Thank you, Shelldon.”

“Love ya.”

“I love you too.”

End playback? Y 

PLAYBACK ENDED

[peterbythewayi]

Being human

What if the team of guys on a mission had a sixth person - a female Marine from intelligence?

Part II

Santiago pulled out onto a steep road that stretched almost to the edge of a cliff. This jolt caused Anna, who had fallen asleep in the back seat, to fall with her head on Benny's sleeping shoulder. He didn’t even wake up and in response lowered his head down, resting his shaved cheek on the top of the girl’s head. Noticing this in the rearview mirror, Garcia could not help but smile and whistle quietly, attracting the attention of the other guys to their sleeping partners.

“Our little Benny has grown up,” Frankie chuckled quietly, to which Santiago replied:

"He had grown up even when you first offered him bourbon."

Frankie rolled his eyes, but his friend did not see it because of the sunglasses he was wearing. In any case, the conversation did not stick together and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

As the car entered Brazil, William turned back and gently shook his brother's knee, trying to wake them both up.

“Hey, wake up, we’ll be there soon,” he said, but, seeing that it wasn’t working, he slapped Benny on the thigh, “Benny!”

Benny barely opened his eyes and, not yet fully awake, looked around; Thick foliage of trees flashed outside the window. Only when he turned back he saw that from his movement Anna, lying on his shoulder, had rolled onto his chest. Gently waking her up, Benny stretched his stiff neck and arms while his brother tried hard not to stare at him (which was a bad thing, since he noticed).

Having parked (so to speak, since they were staying in the jungle), Santiago began handing out radios and weapons to the team. Anna silently checked the pistol's magazine and put it in the holster on her hip, after which, looking up at the man and catching the faint worry in his eyes, she smiled encouragingly.

“We are in Lorea's backyard,” he said finally, after which they scattered in different directions for reconnaissance.

“Why did he choose the fucking jungle?” the guys hear the angry hiss of Anna, who had to take the most difficult path - through the swamps. And it seemed like she had already stepped on something, since she was so angry.

“There are impenetrable forests here,” William’s voice sounds from the earphone. “It’s unlikely that anyone would think of looking for him here.”

“Or, no one just wants to die,” Benny comments on his brother’s assumption, to which he just sighs.

“Stop clogging up the broadcast,” Santiago says dissatisfiedly, so that Kushing and the Millers calm down. They really fell silent, silently stomping towards their positions.

"So, what's this guy got against banks?" William suddenly asked, “At least a safe.”

“The house is a safe,” Garcia answered him.

Anna found this strange. The phrase “the house is a safe” was firmly stuck in her head as she crept up to the house.

“I’m at the gate,” Benny’s voice came through the earpiece. “This looks like everything was done about 82% right. The got all the toys out here, but these cameras aren't even almed at the weakest breach point."

"Your girlfriend's making her normal money drop?"

And here comes Tom.

“Yeah,” replied Santiago, “She's prepeared to record the inside of the house.”

Frankie walked to the back of the house and cursed, then spoke hastily:

"Pope. Pope, I have kids over here,” his voice trembled when he heard children’s laughter, “Does he have kids living in here with him?”

Unstuck from the binoculars, Santiago exchanged glances with a perplexed Tom.

“ 'Cause that's gonna make things a whole lot more complicated and is not what I signed up for,” Frankie said, without waiting for an answer from the Pope.

"The family is not a problem. They're the answer,” Santiago finally says.

"Why?"

"Church. Lorea is very devout. Every Sunday he sends three guards to the 6.00 a.m. service. When they get back, he sends the rest of the team, along with his family, into town for mass. That leaves him and three people guards in that house, and that's our window."

“Devout drug dealer,” Anna almost snorted, clutching the gun tighter in her hands.

"Why would he do that?" - asked William.

“Worried about someone taking his kids,” Santiago answered quite logically, “and he never leaves his money. Also, I don't think he believes that anyone actually has the balls to come out here and rob him.”

“It's probably 'cause it's a stupid idea,” William said again and Anna could not help but agree with him.

Garcia cast a quick glance towards Tom, who barely twitched the corner of his lips and chuckled. In some ways he was right.

"Pope, I got your girlfriend coming up right now,” Benny’s voice reached the team, “Holy shit, she’s a beautiful, man.”

“No worse than Kushing,” he almost blurted out, but he shut up in time.

“I fucking knew it,” Tom blurted out, shaking his head.

“Fuck off,” Santiago waved his friend aside.

A quiet girlish laugh was heard in the headphones.

William thanked the heavens for his ability to ignore everything and focus on work. And now he ignored the senseless squabble of his partners and made his way to the house.

"God damn... - he whispered as he exhaled, stopping in front of a fence with holes, from where he could see Lorea standing over several hostages. Miller caught his breath and groped for the walkie-talkie, saying quietly: “I got an execution about to go down over here.”

"Are you at the tennis courts?" - Garcia immediately asked.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, that's his spot."

William didn't answer. He silently watched as Lorea, taking a gun, began to kill them one by one. Lifeless bodies fell to the ground as Lorea moved on to the next one. Miller closed his eyes, unable to see it.

"Why does she need this?" - Anna finally asked the question that was tormenting her.

"She hopes I can get her little brother out of jail,” Santiago shrugged.

"Did you put him in jail?" - Benny asked with a barely audible grin.

"Not real."

“I'm guessing that's putting her at some risk,” the younger Miller either asked or affirmed.

“Man, I almost forgot why I go out of this business,” Frankie snorted and, hitting his head on a branch in the semi-darkness, quietly hissed: “Shit gets so dark so quick.”

The broadcast went quiet and Anna even got a little bored, looking around Lorea’s huge house, but Benny’s tense voice made her wary:

"Oh, shit, we got ground sensors here, boys."

"Did you hit one? - Santiago.

Benny looked at the flashing red sensor and barely breathed.

"I don't know, I'm not sure."

“Benny, I got two guys on motorbikes coming your way,” Frankie whispered.

Benny held his breath, lowering himself down into the bushes so that he would be less noticeable.

“Hold tight, Benny. I’m trying to get out there and cover you,” William said and quickly walked towards his brother. He stood between two trees growing on the edge of the road and hid, tightly clutching the gun.

“A stock boy job at Walmart's starting to look pretty good right now, boys,” Miller Jr. hemmed, looking at the motorcyclists who stopped a few meters from him.

After hesitating for a couple of minutes, they moved away from the trees, to which Ben breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm clear. They are coming back to you."

“Let's get the fuck outta here,” William suggested following the example of the motorcyclists, and everyone more than agreed with him.

[dichromaticdyke]

you said you werent sure where toki was jacking off in that screenshot-- the bricks look identical to the bricks in the shower room they threw toki into in s2e19 when he was drunk off his ass, so maybe there?

this is gonna be a long response, so it's going under the cut. because when i say @supersaturnnyoomkitty and i have talked about this A LOT, i'm NOT JOKING. but, yes, for a reminder to those who follow me for completely different reasons: when analyzing this scene, i threw that line in as a throwaway, because it's definitely not Toki's room, and the only important thing of note is that he's getting the fuck away from the creepy photos of his parents.

the bricks are a different color and shape, and there aren't any pictures or posters anywhere to be seen.

here's everwhere in mordhaus where we thought it could be: outside the recording studio, the room where facebones addresses the klokateers, and, of course, the bathroom* (*the bathroom theory is way more complicated than it should be).

so, we'll probably never know, because brendon small refuses to email us back, but here are some of our theories as to each of these places.

1- outside the recording room. he's listening to skwisgaar play. now i'm not just saying that because i'm a trash skwistok shipper, i'm also saying that because toki obviously has a very strong attachment to skwisgaar's guitar playing. call it romantic, call it idol worship, call it whatever you want, it doesn't matter—in the credits for Dethalbum III, he thanked skwisgaar's fingers, and his only plans for vacation post-album release were watching skwisgaar play guitar. he's got a problem. (this also goes into my and nyoom's theories about them all having jack-off songs, spawned from her fic "Sensual Playback", don't worry about it, it's not important right now.)

2- the gathering room of klokateers/full dethstaff meetings. uh. that's just. well.

how do you want me to take this anon? do you want me to be serious about this? do you want me to tell you how i've considered the possibility that toki just got as far the fuck away from the photos of his parents as he could and this is where he ended up? because that's my only theory for this. (this does also just sort of go with the fact that most of the walls in mordhaus look like this. it could be ANYWHERE. consider the gathering hall to just be a catch-all for, toki just being a little freak.)

moving swiftly on...

3- the bathroom thing is way more complicated than it should be, and here's why: there's a public/staff bathroom. we see it most prominently when they're all drinking bleach together, and it could very well be there. you mentioned this shower scene specifically:

and that scene is also near identical to murderface's own shower scene when he was scared of being gay (we even see more of the public bathroom in the background):

that would make sense, i guess. BUT—it's implied they all have their own bathrooms, right? pickles and murderface both do, anyway:

not sure why murderface would shower in the public bathroom when he's having his gay panic and you'd think he'd want to be as far away from naked men as possible, but that's not my business.

side note: i just noticed for the first time that murderface took his shorts all the way off to take a shit, but left his demonias on. this man i stg—

i find it hard to believe toki also wouldn't have his own bathroom. i'm not sure if this scene is meant to be in the public bathroom or either murderface's or skwisgaar's, but it's also something to consider:

though, as i'm writing this, i'm coming to a realization that maybe they did all have their own bathrooms prior to the attack on mordhaus. i completely forgot they renovated the whole place. they might have gutted their personal bathrooms and replaced it with a public one, which is why all the showers and bathtubs seem to be there. the shower that toki's in might have been either his own, or a public one that was later expanded after the renovations. either way, i'm positive it's a public bathroom and not one that toki would have had, and i think that for one major reason:

toki's bedroom is so super tiny. especially compared to nathan's or william's bedroom. his bed is small and snug, also. i think he's never really needed anything that big for himself. he grew up extremely deprived and abused, just having anything that was truly his own was all he'd ever wanted. plus, maybe having to sleep in a massive space all by himself might've triggered his memories of being forced to stay alone in the punishment hole for days on end. of course, that's not to say toki doesn't love excess, but given how small his own bedroom is, i don't know where he would even be able to have his own private bathroom.

not to mention, in aotd, we see he doesn't like to go to the bathroom alone. sure, he's regressing in that moment, but i still don't think he likes to be alone, if he can help it—hence the stuffed animals and pictures of his parents (regardless of how creepy they are, at least he's not alone when they're staring at him).

i think that's my thesis of the whole thing, actually. toki's not being a creepy lil guy on purpose, i don't think. i just think he doesn't wanna jack off in front of his parents, but he also has hang-ups about being alone, so he goes to random places around mordhaus. it's not a kink thing, i'm like. 99% sure. i just think he's still trying to figure out how to be comfortable with himself.

plus, the boys were all ready to suck their own dicks together in the same room. i really don't think any of them would consider it all that weird, so long as toki himself doesn't act weird about it.

[fruitytiff]

THEORY: WHAT IF THE ANTASMA WE SEE ISN'T THE "WHOLE" THING

Ok ok, lemme explain what I meant. A few weeks ago, me and @noddynods made a joke about how Dreambert was secretly fanboying over Antasma because his the only person to actually title him king, like in the games, Antasma never referred himself to king. He did say he wanted to be king, but wanting to and already being one is completely different. Now recently, my Exam-illed mind wandered back to that random ass convo because I was so sick of studying and actually began to dwell on that. What if...the Antasma we see in the game...is only half of what he actually is. Lemme explain some more, Antasma, as portrayed in the game, isn't exactly a bright cookie (Dawg got betrayed by BOWSER of all people). He isn't stupid either but his farrr from intelligent, in fact his very emotional in all sense, he often screeches loudly whenever he gets angry, happy, or sad???? And just generally expresses his feelings openly a lot. Now what do I meant by this? I meant that this verison of Antasma...might be his right brain. I theorize that the Antasma we see isn't actually who he really is, its only half of him. Ok now this is a little bit headcannon-y but hey, what the fuck, lets go. I need a explanation, a theory, so here we go.

You know how in the Dream World, theres Dream's Deep. Like a really deep pit of where the..un...deepest consciousness resides, like thoughts or some shit. I dunno, that's what I think anyways. We also do see that there's a Nightmare World, now, we don't know if the Nightmare World is a completely different realm then the Dream World or just a extension of itself, but assuming that the Nightmare World is a different realm that only produces nightmares, we can assume that the Nightmare World also has it's own Dreams Deep. Now we don't know what Nightmare World's own version of Dream's Deep is called, or even if it exists at all depending if the Nightmare World is a extension of the Dream World and not it's own thing. But if it is. I would like to guess that Antasma's other half, his Left Brain was trapped in there. His intelligence, his cold cunning calculated side was locked away in a even more deadly and dark prison. Which makes sense, high intelligence has the risk to yield incredibly dangerous people. Especially when given to one without any moral standards. Now why did I specify Antasma's Right Brain being more emotional and creative while his Left is more intelligent and cold? Because science lmao, it had been recorded that people who are more in the creative fields has a more responsive right hemisphere compared to the people in the analytical fields. Now obviously this has been debunked as it shows creative people also using the left hemisphere of our brain to do creative stuff, but our right hemisphere still "drives the wheel."

So I'm not exactly being completely scientifically right right, but its a generalization of how the human brain works. And why I think this is applicable to Antasma. I mean, just look at the current in game Antasma, he does prove to have skills in planning even though I had said that his not as smart cuz his the right brain and all. So it doesn't disprove my theory. Now...lets think, assuming that the Nightmare World is it's own realm. what would it's own version of Dream's Deep be? I think....It's a completely opposite to the Dream's Deep in the Dream World.

A World of WHITE

This image of 7-1 from Ultrakill was just a concept or idea of what the Nightmare World's Dream's Deep looks like. And trust me, I have a good reason to think why the Nightmare World's Dream's Deep would look like this. There is a well known psychological torture method called The White Room. Where the victim is dressed from head to toe in white clothing and forced into a bright spotless white room that is constantly blowing cold air, illuminated by blinding white lights, and forced to eat white rice and drink milk for as long as they would stay there. The room is also outfitted to be completely quiet too, which would leave you in isolation along with intense sensory depravation. Victims who are reported to be tortured with this method become depersonalized by losing personal identity and suffers from hallucinations or psychosis. The torture basically turned your brain against you.

And it's one of the worst things for a human being to experience, no matter who they are.

And this...is the perfect set up for the Nightmare World to create, a suffering of your own mind, the brightest torture method to exist. And this place would also be where Antasma's Left Brain is trapped in, desperately trying to find a way out of this place that he had been stuck in for the past 1000 years. Now why do I think that Antasma has a split brain personality? Mainly because of the Pi'illo's vagueness, even though they said that they don't know where he came from...how did they know his a Dreamy Bat in the first place? Like, Antasma could've previously been something that's probably not a Dreamy Bat, maybe a different species of bat all together. So why do they know what he was before? My guess? They're LYING Why did Dreambert refer Antasma as King even though he had literally never called himself that, why did the Pi'illos' all insist that his a Dreamy Bat even though they clearly stated they don't know where he came from??? Questions QUESTIONS!!!!! Why does Antasma holds a grudge against the Pi'illos? At first it could be assumed that its because they trapped him for a thousand years, but the way on how fiercely he fought Dreambert suggests that his rivalry with him lasted WAYYY longer than just him eating nightmares and being evil.

Maybe...It's because the Pi'illos' was the ones that screwed him over in the first place...

Remember when I said that I was confused on why Dreambert calls Antasma a king when he himself doesn't call himself one? Yeah...that...

Perhaps...Antasma was actually a king before, a King of the Nightmare World. Maybe he was actually a Dreamy Bat turned Nightmare....but he only resided within the Nightmare World. Cuz like, how tf was there only one species of him when bats are known to have a habit of pooping out babies faster then you could say: Ey patoto tser matata. On puenes corron brangar coram brangan yaay geigoronama todoro nomonam sugoro bravo and congregay. Postono tunitena tuna na sena tona gamama brrrr senanana seradenanana raba tane e. Ano no no no see vetera el borocone teno done de. Atono coro todei trae bosto arapa to to de seca dota. Deya toma todo ropo tuno ge arapa to. Arapada ohto otro es ey su otro apada veh ito. Amos traedo roho serapade toro o or na paed poro. Amarato toro sorei baro. (Luigi's Italian gibberish) Which is where this theory that I had comes into play, Antasma most likely devoured other wannabe species of himself before he began building his kingdom in the Nightmare World. Which suggests that Antasma probably only resided and existed in the Nightmare World, until the Pi'illos' came around and found out.

There's a very high chance that the Pi'illos grew fearful of the kingdom that Antasma build, so they most likely infiltrated his kingdom through various diplomatic means, (his kingdom was probably very powerful). And attempt to kill him from the inside because of the power he has.

Now obviously this did not work and only succeeded in splitting his brain/body apart. Which explains why Antasma does not wear a crown in game, it most likely got split in half from the attack or completely destroyed.

This most likely lead to a series of disarray in his kingdom, resulting it being torn down by the panic masses and the Pi'illos. Obviously, the more emotionally and feared driven side of him immediately went into revenge mode. Leaving his weakened intelligence side to be captured and trapped into the Nightmare World's Dream's Deep.

The emotional side probably stole the Dark Stone and shattered it like how Dreambert said he did, but out of revenge for his fallen kingdom, and for the Pi'illos' betrayal.

[neocatharsis]

Doyoung of K-pop boyband NCT opens up to NME about the pop-rock sound of his debut album 'Youth', working with bandmate Taeyong and more

NCT’s Doyoung nears 30, he’s been thinking of the ocean. Specifically, what it looks like from afar. That’s why the Korean title of the singer’s first solo album, ‘Youth’, includes the word ‘포말’, or sea foam. Seen too close, the cresting tide is chaotic, even violent; but, step back, and there’s beauty in that battle on the swirling waves. It’s an apt metaphor for a look back on a chapter of your life, taken from a slight remove – where the rough current fades into mere memory.

‘Youth’ is coloured by time and the perspective that it’s given Doyoung. “I made a conscious effort to really show who I am as a person,” he says of the album over a late night Zoom with NME. “I had to ask myself, ‘What is the story that I have to share? What do I want to represent at this stage in my life?’ I thought about it for a while and the word ‘youth’ came to me.”

The concept of youth is a familiar bedfellow for the K-pop artist transitioning into early adulthood, yet in the blue hour of his late twenties, Doyoung’s got a little more wisdom to shade between those lines. In his own words, the spirit of ‘Youth’ is more “spring night” than “spring morning”: electric guitar riffs may lift his voice up like the warm breeze, but the wistful lyrics are that welcoming spring sun gently sliding away. It’s the story of youth, as told from the end.

Once he had the idea for the album, it was like a faucet had been opened; things just flowed out. Before, his raw lyrical sketches had been rejected by the company, but, on ‘Youth’, Doyoung claims two writing credits (warm salve ‘From Little Wave’ and ‘Beginning’, an overture which brims with tender emotion), a fact he chalks up to a fresh honesty in their storytelling. This go-around, he found it was easier to tap into his “genuine experiences and sincere feelings”, and that growth was clear to SM Entertainment’s staff – especially after Doyoung tirelessly revised the album opener.

Our brief video call takes place a couple of hours after the official release of ‘Youth’. While speaking, and while listening to the interpreter relay his thoughts, Doyoung schools his face into the composure of a calm lake; he’s thoughtful, considered. Here is someone who’s had time to think through what he wants to say, though he just can’t help but make a few more last minute revisions. “I think it’s natural for there to be a difference in quality,” he says, pausing a beat, then edits himself: “Is that the right word?”

By contrast, there’s one word he definitively, and continuously, circles back to throughout our conversation: “naturally”. It’s how he describes the passage of time, but it’s also how he describes writing and recording. To hear him tell it, you would think everything simply clicked into place. The reality is, it takes a lot of effort to sound as effortless as Doyoung: in making the album, he crafted PowerPoint slides with his ideas, passed a birthday in the recording booth and spent hours on single lines. His hands are in every part of ‘Youth’, top to bottom.

Doyoung has said sub-group NCT 127’s music isn’t always his personal cup of tea, but releases from K-pop groups tend to be by committee; compromise is a necessity. On ‘Youth’, however, “the working process was certainly different without that group discussion or input of the other members”, Doyoung says. More control and responsibility, he adds, “pushed me to really focus on myself, my thoughts, and follow where the music was leading me”.

The frontman of a high-school band prior to becoming an idol trainee, Doyoung has long loved the sentimental soft rock and pop stylings of Korean bands like Hoppipolla, Daybreak and Day6. To recreate their magic, he asked SM’s A&R team to enlist mainly Korean talent for the album – breaking from the global pool they typically tap on. That began with Lucy bassist Cho Wonsang (“an artist-composer I’ve always admired”) sending Doyoung the demo for single ‘Little Light’, while other credits include prolific SM Entertainment producer Kenzie and composer Seo Dong Hwan, a collaborator of IU and AKMU’s Lee Suhyun.

Another of Doyoung’s close confidants during the process will be familiar to fans: NCT 127 groupmate and leader Taeyong. The two idols have debuted together twice: once with NCT U in April 2016, and again three months later as a part of NCT 127. Both introductory songs – hip-hop-trap hybrid ‘The 7th Sense’ and the blaring, rap-led ‘Fire Truck’ – have since been proclaimed as ahead of their time, chaotic disruptors of K-pop’s bias toward bubbly boy groups in the mid-2010s. But, at the time, the NCT units struggled to make inroads with the general public.

When Taeyong released his solo project in 2023, during an era of K-pop minimalism, the dirty bass and all-around eccentricities raised eyebrows – but it spoke to who Taeyong is as an artist, which makes him fit to advise on turning a blind eye to trends. “We talked through what it means to put together and release a solo album, and what challenges I could expect in the process,” Doyoung says. “I think Taeyong hyung definitely offered me more cautionary, realistic advice on what to expect.”

Because once the sound for ‘Youth’ was in place, the pressure was on. Sans the expected hallmarks of K-pop releases like sticky pop hooks and choreography, the quality of the music had to speak for itself. A docuseries about the creation of ‘Youth’ shows Doyoung tempering his hopes: What if, he asks, no one listens? Yet the slow burn rise of NCT has imparted patience and persistence to him. “Nice music will be loved eventually,” he concluded. “So if people don’t like the song [‘Little Light’] immediately, I have this feeling, one day it will be loved.”

In going after that timelessness, ‘Youth’ finds itself obsessed with time’s steady march. Cozy coffee shop tune ‘Time Machine’, written by NCT bandmate Mark and featuring Girls’ Generation’s Taeyeon, is a duet between lovers who accept that, were they to turn back the years, everything would turn out the same. A past self takes shape over his shoulder on the atmospheric banger ‘Lost in California’, while on the tender ballad ‘Rewind’, where Doyoung’s crystalline vocals are in top form, it’s someone else just out of reach: “When I reminisce about that day / The world quietly flows backwards / Your figure as you looked back / At the disappearing end of the street.”

Given the context, it makes sense that time would be on Doyoung’s mind: At the tail end of winter, NCT 127 performed together as a full group for the last time (that is, for a while). “With Taeyong hyung enlisting for his military service, there came a point where all of us had to think about when we would next tour as the complete team,” Doyoung says. Ever a sensitive soul, he ended a couple of concerts in tears. “Because of that uncertainty, I couldn’t help but feel more sentimental,” he adds.

Part of the sadness – for fans and members – was a feeling that NCT 127 had left some global success on the table, thanks to COVID-19. Just as the members were gaining momentum stateside with English singles and a promised US tour, a stop sign was firmly planted at their feet. “When looking back on our nine years,” Doyoung said during one of his send-offs, “there might be people who feel regret, who feel that we didn’t succeed, who wonder how it would be if the timing was better”. But that’s never been the way he sees it.

“I think achieving success really depends on how you define it,” Doyoung says now. “To me, a successful artist is someone who is able to share their approach to music, their artistry and be recognised for their unique style by their audience. It’s that moment where a listener can say, ‘This artist, this group, makes this kind of music.’ By my definition, I think I can safely say that NCT 127 has reached a level of success.”

And as for himself? “When I was younger, thinking about what life had in store for me, the idea that I wanted to become a singer really grounded me,” Doyoung says. “My dream of becoming an artist who will be remembered for a long time gave me the direction for how I wanted to live my life.”

He feels an immense pride for that inner child, “for committing to a life of music, for working towards that dream”, without a guarantee of success – especially now, after it’s been realised. “I am hoping I can be recognised for my own style and tone, that I can make a name with my approach,” he continues. “That’s how I would define success for myself.” It’s spoken like someone who knows there’s only so much he can control; the rest, as always, is up to time.

© NME

[mangomagiii]

gojo satoru x oc (himetsuru ichimonji)

a/n: will be made as multichapter. title and succeeding chapters work in progress. tagged with xreader (pls just remove the OC's name/features if you want to self-insert). pls see end notes for other info

tags: cheating, eventual angst, eventual romance, different lifetimes, reincarnation (some tags will be added depending on chapters)

»»————-　　————-««

“I am not mad, Gojo-san. In fact, I am not concerned about your affairs with other women.”

An invisible yet heavy force seemed to take over the atmosphere at a particular booth as the woman opposite him calmly sipped on her tea. Her well-cared hands moved with grace in each motion she made. The man opposite her was frozen as he processed what she had just said. The almost-empty lavishly-decorated restaurant usually encourages a festive mood in contrast with the two people engaged in a long silence.

Ichimonji Himetsuru finished sipping on her cup, fully savoring the warmth and sweet taste of Chrysanthemum. She gently laid the half-full cup, the cup clacked upon contact with the oak table. Folding her hands on her lap, she continued. “There is no problem at all. I assure you of that, Gojo-san.”

Satoru got out of his stupor and tried to reason. “Himetsuru, listen to me. I’m your fiancé, you should be–”

Himetsuru stood up from her seat, the sudden difference in height made her look down on him. Contrary to Satoru’s expectation, her eyes held no anger nor sadness. Only tranquillity, as if they’re currently not talking about his cheating. “You are free to do whatever you want, Gojo-san. It’s not like I wasn’t completely aware. I understand that this marriage was arranged between our families and both of us never had a say on this.” She whipped out several amounts of cash and slid it on the table. Getting out of the booth, she bowed to him who still had his jaw slack. “You do not have to worry about me telling my family. I fully consent to your arrangement. We are not married yet.”

“This is not a joke, Himetsuru. You should be mad at me. I am sorry for not being faithful to our arrangement, for not fulfilling my part. I…”

“To which I already replied that I am not angry at all. Must I repeat what I have said already? I don’t really want to sound like a broken record.” She sighed, her hand already massaging a forming headache.

“I simply do not care what you do in your own time. As long as we both do our duties as husband and wife after the marriage then that’s all that matters. We are not married yet, that's why I am still compliant with your whims. Just don’t cause anything that will jeopardise both families’ reputation. That’s all I ask.”

She left the area, not even bothering to check him for the last time. Gojo was still in pure shock, not wanting to believe what he had just heard from her. He was fully expecting her to lash out on him, scream, slap his face, humiliate him in public. But all he got was a calm and straight response. It was so cool that it was also terrifying.

“What on earth just happened..?” his body sank on the plush seat, all the tension left his body, but inside was still in turmoil.

She doesn't care? He was her fiancé, he cheated on her and ignored their arrangement for ten years! 

The arrangement had been decided since their teens, during his second year as a Jujutsu student. He came home after school, entered the estate after a long day of fooling around with Geto and Shoko, and suddenly he was bombarded with congratulations as news broke out that the Ichimonji and Gojo decided on their union. He looked around the main hall, and his eyes met with his betrothed. His Six Eyes fully-focused at her, critically analysing her features and every actions. Did they at least assessed his betrothed thoroughly? Apparently, yes. She was beautiful, deduced that she is a graceful person despite not moving on her seat. Elegance seemed to emit from her, making her a fitting candidate as his wife. Her eyes in a colour of jade did the same, studying her betrothed. Silky violet hair were adorned in kanzashi. She also happened to have a cursed energy, however, small and probably good enough to only assist just like what auxiliary managers do. He blocked out all the chattering, only waiting for her reaction. She nodded at him, and then went on to talk to someone, leaving him to deal with the annoying noises.

Despite her neat and refined appearance, it did not make him excited at the arrangement and instead anger started to form. He was furious, not only because he was paired with someone that he was not familiar with, but also for the fact that he does not get a say at all. Did they even care about their son? Not at all, as it was for the sake of the clan and prestige.

This particular memory in his life led to him ignoring her completely, also starting a bad habit of flirting and later on engaging in intimate acts with other women. He knows he will be found out, but he never really cared, at least at that time. This behavior intensified after Geto’s defection, sadness consuming him as he lost his only friend. His family became aware of his affairs, and noticed how evasive he was when it involved the Ichimonjis, particularly their daughter. Countless arguments spurred, asking him to be considerate and get along with Himetsuru. All fell on deaf ears. He hoped that by eliciting such reactions from both families and her would end up dissolving their engagement. But now, he was not sure. She was being compliant with him, as if she doesn't care about him at all. He also realized that no matter what he does, both families will not budge and will continue with their plans.

He’s already 26, already teaching for a few years, even taking care of late Fushiguro Toji’s son Megumi and his sister Tsumiki. The countless flirting with women continued despite not motivated anymore to break his engagement, and almost everyone in the Jujutsu society was aware of his flings. He would even engage with other school personnel, from auxiliary managers to even windows, earning the ire of his former teacher Yaga and an exasperated sigh from Shoko. Ijichi decided to not meddle, afraid of consequences from Gojo.

Today’s conversation between Himetsuru and Satoru happened because he was caught flirting with one of the windows. The halls that were usually silent and void of any people were occupied by Gojo and a female window. Smacking of lips and rustles of clothes filled the hallway as they descended deeper into lust.

Several meters, he already felt a faint cursed energy. Being the troublemaker he is, he paid it no mind and continued on his conquest. Despite his Six Eyes ability, he cannot figure out whose cursed energy it belonged to. Odd, but he’s occupied with another thing to even care about the person who will witness such debauchery.

The footsteps halted, and a voice that he had not heard for so long snapped him out of his lust-driven state.

“I’m afraid to interrupt your intimate time, but I need to get through the Principal’s office.”

Both Gojo and the window looked at the person who witnessed their affair. There she is, his fiancée with a jaded look on her face.

Oh, he was doomed.

»»————-　　————-««

a/n: inspired from a novel/manhwa "This Marriage Is Bound To Sink Anyway". Canon-compliant-ish(?). I originally wanted this to be an xReader hence the tag but I've planned so much about the appearance, personality, and features of the reader so i ended up making it as an xOC. but pls do remove my OCs features/name if you want to self-insert!

side note: some info such as timelines and ages were taken from various sources (reddit, blogs). it may or may not be accurate from canon so pls keep in mind that these ages/timeline was written for the fanfic plot's sake. this fanfic starts before he started teaching maki/toge/panda/yuta and he's 26 years old here.

gojo's start as a teacher: source

gojo's ages: when he met megumi, jjk 0

feedbacks are greatly appreciated, it helps me to improve my writing!

[romancomicsnews]

Blue Beetle is a triumph for DC, the Latinx Community, and Superhero Movies - SPOILER FREE REVIEW

Ángel Manuel Sotos new DC film Blue Beetle is hitting theaters this week but has had a significantly hard road to get here.

The film was originally sold as a direct to streaming film, then was moved to theatrical release, was caught in the middle of a James Gunn take over, and now a writer's/actor's strike. Couple all that with superhero fatigue, and DC's not so clean track record, the film would have to jump massive hurdles to be successful most movies do not.

Blue Beetle, however, is a magnificent departure from superhero films of late that coast on past projects, name dropping, or cameos. It is a delightful film that centers on family, responsibility, and the many different types of Latinx experiences, all while being extremely funny and full of incredible action.

Director Manuel Soto breathes new life into the DCU in a way few directors have before. instead of opting for uniformity with other superhero projects, the film has a distinct color and design that feels unique and fresh. Excellent design, costuming, and vibrancy make up a beautiful Palmera City.

One of the most notable aspects of the film was the fluid, dynamic fight choreography for Blue Beetle and our main physical antagonist, Carapax. While there are several heroes who have similar powers to Jaime, none quite have used it as interestingly. The shifting of weaponry, flight, and hand to hand combat make for types of fights we don't really see in live action.

This film of course is not just made up of excellent visuals, but a phenomenal supporting cast. It is hard to pick out favorites, as most characters are given an opportunity to shine.

Through this cast, Manuel Soto shows the many realistic day to day fears and feelings of a Latinx/Hispanic person. Responsibility, family, and becoming who you are supposed to be are all at the heart of the film. As a Latinx man, so many aspects of the film hit home for me, sometimes comedically, sometimes tragically.

The movie also emphasizes different kinds of experiences in our community. Undocumented citizens, first generation, the religious traditional older member of the family, even the slacker uncle. Every member of the family feels different, but they all feel like a family.

For me, I'd say Belissa Escobedo as Milagro Reyes brings excellent sisterly back and forth with our hero and has some very emotional moments in the film. Brother/sister chemistry is sometimes difficult to pull off, but Escobedo makes it look easy. I think she has the making of a comedic star on the rise and is someone to lookout for.

I'd say most members of the family will be someones favorite. George Lopez as Rudy, Jaimes Uncle Rudy, Damián Alcázar as Alberto Reyes, Jaimes Father, and Adriana Barraza as Nana, the matriarchal head of the family all got big laughs and, at times, tears from their performances.

This cast is phenomenal and elevates excellent writing into several iconic scenes. I don't see this film working without the perfect familial blend of actors. And they got it perfectly.

While characters like Elpidia Carrillo as Rocio Reyes or Bruna Marquezine as Jenny Kord do get the short end of the stick in the film, I think they get their moments and will be greater utilized in (hopefully) future installments of the franchise.

What made it most clear that Manuel Soto understands character were the two antagonists of the film.

While they are not nearly as significant as the rest of the family, both Susan Sarandon as Victoria Kord and Raoul Max Trujillo as Conrad Carapax are not reduced to twirling mustache villains. They both have realistic and at times tragic stories that explain (but does not justify) their actions.

While both give solid performances and are a step above your average Marvel/DC villains, I think the film could've benefitted from more of them.

But the real highlight of the film, to no ones surprise, was Xolo Maridueña as Jaime Reyes.

Maridueña as Blue Beetle feels like one of those castings that seem impossible to be topped. He brings excellent comedy, pain, and honor to Jaime in a way that feels natural. He is Blue Beetle.

In the film, Maridueña displays a wide range of emotions while he goes through an incredibly grueling 2-3 days. There is comedy, awkwardness, strength, anger, and pain, and Maridueña nails every moment of it.

I expect you will see a lot more Xolo in the future even if we don't see more Blue Beetle. But I hope he does return.

I think this movie has the potential to connect with audiences in a way we just haven't seen in a long time from a Superhero film. It is original, fun, and shows us a side of DCU we've never seen before, without endless cameos and reminders of past projects.

I hope other studios take away that audiences want more representation via original content from creative visionaries. But Hollywood often takes away the wrong lesson.

All in all, Blue Beetle is an incredible film that balances comedy, drama, and action in a way superhero movies rarely do. If you get the chance to, I highly recommend you go out and give it a watch. Films as good as this deserve support.

Blue Beetle is out in theaters this Friday August 18th.

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[askagamedev]

Evening, Dev! An Advance Wars YouTuber I follow, Mangs, put up an interview of an ex WayForward contractor on the topic of the underperforming Advance Wars ReBoot Camp. I was wondering if you'd like to view it and give any thoughts. I'm always curious about your opinion on these things given your history and experience.

I watched the video. The opinion of the former employee gels with more junior employees I've worked with in the past - typically the perspective of devs who aren't privy to the decision-making process and lack the kind of context that's needed to understand the costs and benefits to the choices made. Here are a few specific thoughts I had on the various topics mentioned in the video.

Contract workers are often treated quite badly in our industry, especially those in QA. Contractors are the first to be let go, get little or no benefits for working, and are generally hired on through shell companies in order to protect the actual employers from liability. It's an unfortunate situation that's arisen from our legal system and extends far beyond the game industry.

Disagreeing with a major design decision like art direction is not at all uncommon. Leadership takes the responsibility on that one. I will be the first to admit that I've had my share of times where I disagreed with leadership and was right, as well as my share of times where I was dead wrong. I look back at the latter as valuable learning experiences.

I can tell that the person being interviewed doesn't really understand business because they'll say something vague about "record breaking profits" at the corporate level, but no solid information at any level below that. It doesn't matter that the overall company is profitable or not - each product that is developed still needs to justify its own existence via its accounting.

The pandemic, work from home, and return to office policies have affected the industry as a whole in many large ways. Publishing leadership sets the policy for the publisher, and studio leadership sets policy for the studio. My own publisher had different studios enact wildly different policies for work from home and return to office - one studio required all employees return to the office full time, while another only required two days per week.

It sounds like WayForward's engineering team and workflow faced a lot of challenges they had a hard time overcoming. I don't know whether this is because their team was shorthanded, lacked strong leadership, or just was always on the back foot and never able to stabilize due to a never-ending series fires that needed putting out. When everything is constantly on fire, it's extraordinarily difficult to get ahead. Remember, all tasks get prioritized. Fixing crashes is more important than adding new features like multiplayer or new units - crashes stop other dev team members from working, so the effect is multiplicative. I suspect that this was the root problem that caused the rest of the development to get caught in the development hell it sounds like.

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[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Cops & Robbers 🔞

Chapter 6

Tags: This chapter is pretty tame. I guess implied dead body?

You want me to do what?” Wooyoung tried not to look shocked and failed.

“I need you to drag the river. Well, really just a certain section,” Juyeon repeated. He was sitting in the police chief’s office, the only person who could authorize a search. He also happened to be Younghoon’s boss and Juyeon’s childhood friend.

“If I told you it was for Younghoon would that make a difference?” Juyeon continued.

“You mean a personal favor or looking for his dead body?” Wooyoung asked.

“The dead body we’re looking for is Chanhee,” Juyeon told him. Wooyoung looked at the ceiling and heaved a sigh.

“I knew it,” he said.

“Knew he was dead?” 

“Either that or incapacitated. He and Younghoon are the two most reliable people in this whole department. So Younghoon is still alive?” Wooyoung asked.

“He was pretty beat up, but he’s alive. The only reason I left was because I don’t trust any communication other than face to face,” Juyeon explained.

“You’ve got some balls walking into police headquarters when you’re a wanted criminal,” Wooyoung pointed out.

“And you could’ve had me arrested when you saw me walk in. Just because we ended up on different sides doesn’t mean we don’t have shared interests. I could also argue that you’re responsible for me meeting Younghoon in the first place,” Juyeon replied.

“You haven’t lost your touch when it comes to guilting people,” Wooyoung sighed. He turned to his computer and started typing. “Anonymous tip that missing police employee was dumped in the river.”

“See? You did that all on your own,” the other man grinned.

“I’ll have you arrested just because you’re annoying me,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“You would never,” Juyeon leaned back in the chair. Wooyoung glared at him then went back to typing. “What do you know about The Mad King?”

Wooyoung whipped his head around.

“What do you mean what do I know? It’s a story that our parents told us to scare us when we were kids. I didn’t think you believed in shit like that,” he questioned.

“I’m beginning to think he’s real,” Juyeon admitted.

“Why?” Wooyoung turned to look at his friend fully.

“More than one of Sunwoo’s searches dead ended with that name. I’m going to sound arrogant when I say this, but they can’t possibly be smart enough to rig a search to return a ghost story,” Juyeon replied. Wooyoung considered what Juyeon said.

“The last time I heard anything vaguely referencing him was last year. A couple of my guys said they kept getting false calls. I eventually pulled them from that area, but the last one was listed as ‘George the Third’,” Wooyoung told him.

“The original Mad King,” Juyeon finished.

“Though Game of Thrones is far trendier reference,” Wooyoung said.

“Yeah that wasn’t exactly pop culture when we started hearing these stories,” Juyeon replied.

“I don’t think this guy is into pop culture anyway,” Wooyoung went back to his computer. “The most recent record I have is from last February. A tip was called in about a drug dealer working out of a club downtown. The caller gave his name as George the Third. I had them check it out, but the club had closed down the previous week. I pulled the building records and it got shut down because they hadn’t paid their liquor license in several years.”

“Only in this town would you get shut down for not paying your booze fee than not paying your rent,” Juyeon snorted.

“Says the one who actually does deal drugs out of his club,” Wooyoung replied.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. That club belongs to Lee Juyeon the First,” his friend grinned. “I also pay my liquor license fees on time. Who were the cops?”

“Jeong Yunho and Choi Jongho,” the police chief replied. “I was considering having them run down leads on Younghoon and Chanhee.”

“What changed your mind?” Juyeon asked.

“I knew you’d show up eventually,” Wooyoung grinned. “You’d come looking for your cop if you didn’t already know where he was.”

“Does everything think I’m that whipped for him?” The other man huffed.

“There’s no thinking about it. You’re about as subtle as a sledgehammer. I never called off the surveillance because you both enjoyed watching each other,” Wooyoung explained.

“That makes it sound like we’re a couple of voyeurs,” Juyeon replied.

“I know you’re an exhibitionist, but I prefer to stay out of Younghoon’s sex life,” Wooyoung gave his friend a look.

“You walked in on me once,” Juyeon protested.

“And I’ve been trying to scrub that image from my head for the past 15 years,” Wooyoung replied. “Do you need anything else or are you just staying to annoy me?”

“That’s it. I have to get back to my cop,” Juyeon got up. Wooyoung snorted.

“I’ll let you know if we find anything,” he waved Juyeon off.

“Thanks,” Juyeon replied.

“He was one of mine,” Wooyoung’s voice turned serious for the first time.

“I know,” Juyeon nodded. As he was walking back to the elevators, he passed a pair of cops walking in. It was comical to see them standing next to each other. One was taller than Juyeon and slender and the other one was easily 4 or 5 inches shorter and stocky. Juyeon inclined his head in greeting as he passed them. There were some perks to being untouchable.

“Is Juyeon back yet?” Sunwoo asked when he came upstairs. Younghoon, Hyunjae, and Eric were in the living room playing with Bori. 

“He’s on his way,” Hyunjae replied, trying to pick up the puppy. She was having none of it. 

“He didn’t text you?” Sunwoo looked at Younghoon. 

“They took my phone. I’ve been using a burner he gave me that only gets service in the house,” Younghoon replied. 

“I’ll add that to the list then,” Sunwoo said. 

“I assume you have an update if you crawled out of your cave,” Hyunjae said. Bori sat in Eric’s lap. Eric gave his brother a smug look. 

“I got a hit on the fingerprint,” he replied. 

“A fingerprint from where?” Younghoon asked. 

“We might have found a body that matched one of the guys who kidnapped you and we might have broken into the morgue to get a fingerprint,” Hyunjae admitted. 

“You did what?!” Younghoon’s jaw dropped. 

“Don’t worry, we didn’t disturb anyone else’s corpse,” Hyunjae told him. Eric was looking at them like a deer in headlights. “Who is he?”

“Han Jisung. He got popped for possession a few years ago,” Sunwoo shared. 

“Did he have a tattoo on his hand?” Younghoon whispered. Eric handed Bori over so the older man had something to hold. 

“No, he was average height, brown hair, brown eyes,” Sunwoo replied. 

“What about his eyes?” Younghoon hugged Bori tighter. The puppy yipped in surprise. 

“What about them?” Sunwoo asked. 

“Did they look too close together? Like someone pinched them close to his nose?” he felt himself starting to panic. 

“I guess you could say that,” Sunwoo said. 

“You okay?” Eric asked, noticing Younghoon’s change in demeanor. Younghoon shook his head. The younger boy put his hand on Younghoon’s back. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“No, I need to see a picture,” Younghoon swallowed hard. Sunwoo typed something into his phone then handed it to Younghoon. 

“He’s the one who broke my nose,” Younghoon was shaking now. “I remember his eyes. All I could see were their eyes and hands.”

“Do you remember anything else?” Sunwoo asked. 

“One of them had a star tattoo on his ring finger. The leader was blonde. He had a really deep voice. The one with the star tattoo was short,” Younghoon handed the phone back. 

They all jumped when they heard the door slam. No one seemed to know how to close the door quietly. Juyeon looked at the group and immediately zeroed in on Younghoon. 

“What happened? Baby, you look like you’re about to pass out,” he knelt in front of him. 

“The corpse is one of his kidnappers,” Hyunjae said, bracing for the inevitable explosion. Juyeon whipped around and looked at Sunwoo. The other man immediately shrunk in on himself. 

“You told him? You didn’t tell me first? I swear to god Kim Sunwoo,” he went to stand up and Younghoon stopped him. 

“It’s not his fault. I asked him to show me a picture. Don’t punish him,” he begged. Juyeon looked between Sunwoo and Younghoon. 

“It’s true,” Eric spoke up. “He asked and Sunwoo showed him.”

“You should’ve told him no,” Juyeon focused on Sunwoo. 

“Juyeon, stop, please. Please,” Younghoon started crying. “Don’t hurt him. He didn’t do anything wrong. Let him go.”

It was then Juyeon realized how his actions came across. Younghoon tried to save someone’s life and failed. Juyeon wasn’t going to actually hurt Sunwoo. He’d never hurt any of his friends. Younghoon didn’t know that. 

“I’m sorry I lost my temper. You didn’t know that I hadn’t told him anything. That’s my fault. We’ll talk later,” Juyeon stood up and looked at Sunwoo.

“I’m gonna keep looking and see if he was arrested with anyone,” Sunwoo backed out of the room like he was afraid to turn his back on Juyeon. 

“Promise me you won’t hurt him,” Younghoon begged. 

“I promise I won’t hurt him. You know I’ve never lied to you and I’m not going to start now,” Juyeon sat next to him. Bori had scurried into Eric’s lap. 

“Thank you,” Younghoon wiped his eyes and winced. Juyeon felt like the biggest piece of shit on the planet. He opened his mouth to say something, but Younghoon cut him off. 

“I’d like to be alone for a while,” he said quietly. Juyeon felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He wanted to argue. He wanted to convince Younghoon to let him stay. Hyunjae and Eric gave him twin looks of warning. 

“Okay. You can use one of the guest rooms,” Juyeon stood up. “Or I can.”

“I’ll take the guest room,” Younghoon waited until Juyeon stepped back to stand. Eric put Bori on the floor and the puppy followed him up the stairs. 

“I’m gonna go…do something,” Eric said and walked to the basement leaving Juyeon and Hyunjae alone. 

“He doesn’t even want to be around me,” Juyeon looked at his hands. 

“Can you blame him?” Hyunjae asked. 

“No,” Juyeon shook his head. 

“You should’ve told him what you know. At least he would’ve been prepared. You’re only hurting him more by withholding information. I get that you want to protect him. He trusted you enough to come here after they let him go. You need to trust him. Yeah, he got the shit beat out of him, but he’s still a fully functioning adult who can make his own choices. You owe it to him to share what you know,” Hyunjae told him. 

“The last time I shared everything I knew, someone died,” Juyeon reminded him.  

“Who was also a fully functioning adult and made his own decision,” the other man replied. 

“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Juyeon looked at Hyunjae. 

“He will, but it might take time. Logically, he knows that you rarely resort to violence. The part of him that was tortured and had to stare at his best friend’s dead body the entire time won’t come around so fast. You need to be patient with him. You also need to be patient with yourself,” Hyunjae replied. 

“I thought things were going okay,” Juyeon bit his lip to keep from crying. 

“Which part? Finally convincing him to sleep with you?” his friend asked. 

“Like we were building something. I honestly didn’t think I’d see him again after we had sex. He left while I was asleep. I acted like it didn’t bother me, but it did,” Juyeon admitted. 

“Is that part of why you’re not sleeping?” Hyunjae hit the nerve Juyeon had desperately been trying to hide. 

“Part of it. If I’m awake then he can’t disappear,” he couldn’t stop the tears. Hyunjae put his arm around Juyeon’s shoulders. 

“He’s not going to disappear. Get some sleep. Eric will listen for him. Kid’s got great ears,” he said. Juyeon nodded. “Don’t make me order you.”

“I’m going,” Juyeon wiped his eyes. He stopped outside the closed bedroom door. It took everything he had to not knock. Younghoon asked for space and Juyeon was going to give it to him even if it hurt. 

The bed was still unmade from that morning. Juyeon forced himself to shower and change into clothes he could actually sleep in. He pulled Younghoon’s pillow into his chest. It smelled like what Younghoon was supposed to smell like. Eric had picked up Younghoon’s toiletries the previous day and Juyeon helped him shower. 

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed into the pillow. “I love you.”

He finally let himself cry until his body gave into exhaustion. Younghoon would still be there when he woke up. He had to be. 

“Yunho! Jongho!” Wooyoung called them into his office after Juyeon left. 

“Yes sir?” Yunho asked. 

“I need you to supervise a river search,” he told them. 

“A river search?” Jongho repeated. 

“I got an anonymous tip that there might be a body in it,” Wooyoung replied. 

“Does this have to do with Younghoon and Chanhee?” Yunho ventured. 

“I don’t know yet. That’s why I need you two to supervise the search. If there is a body then I trust you to do the identification,” their boss explained. 

“And if it is one of them?” Jongho asked. 

“Then we’ve got a murder case to work. The search is tomorrow morning. I expect you to be there early. Think you can handle that?” Wooyoung turned back to his computer. They nodded. 

“Sir, can I ask a question?” Yunho bit the inside of his cheek. 

“You can, but I might not answer it,” Wooyoung said. 

“Why was Lee Juyeon here this morning?” he asked. 

“That’s above your pay grade,” Wooyoung replied simply. 

“Right, of course. Not our business,” Yunho nodded. 

“Your only business right now is searching the river. You’re dismissed,” he waved them off. “Shut the door on your way out.”

“How did they figure out he was in the river?” Jongho asked when they got back to their desks. 

“Juyeon has a lot of resources at his disposal. They probably realized it after Jisung fucked up the original plan,” Yunho replied.

“I’m not sure about this. Maybe we should just back off,” Jongho suggested. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works. We do what we’re told and keep our mouths shut,” the other man said. 

“I didn’t anticipate this many dead bodies,” Jongho said. 

“It’s the mafia. Of course there are going to be dead bodies,” Yunho sighed. Jongho didn’t reply. “Let’s get through this search and hope they don’t find anything. If nothing else I don’t want to deal with a body that’s been in the water for over a week.”

“Do you want to let him know or should I?” the younger man asked. 

“I’ll do it. I am the senior officer here,” Yunho said. 

“Yeah this is the only time you claim it,” Jongho rolled his eyes. 

“Start thinking about ways we can deal with this if they do find a body. I’m gonna go update him,” Yunho got up. 

“Good luck,” Jongho sighed. 

“I’m gonna need it,” Yunho replied and left to go make the call. This was not going to end well at all.

[uboat53]

Are you purposefully ignoring the fact that a majority of US soldiers come from middle to upper-middle class white suburbanite families and could easily choose a real career and not just running around in someone else’s country killing civilians and raping people with reckless abandon? Cause it seems purposeful.

Hey look, a troll. I can tell because you submitted this incredibly misleading and passive aggressive ask anonymously and because you're the one who submitted this anonymous ask with strikingly similar language and style to @nerdymouse, aren't you? I imagine you just went through the history of this post and send similar trollish asks to anyone you disagreed with, right?

And, yes, for the record, this IS a troll ask. No argument phrased in this manner has ever convinced a single person in the history of argumentation, all you're doing here is performing your own morality and attempting to harass anyone with a differing opinion into silence.

For those who are actually interested in the arguments, I will point out that you play into EXACTLY the mistake I mentioned in my own post when I said "Did we already forget that true injustices are systemic and not the fault of individuals at the low end of the pay scale?"

The "low end of the pay scale" here doesn't refer necessarily to being in poverty (though many, many soldiers are with salaries at the lower enlisted ranks that constitute the majority of the military being lower than $30,000 per year), it refers to people in positions where they have the power to change things as in the classic saying "that's above my pay grade."

Blaming the average soldier for the decisions of an entire country and society or for the actions of people remote from them within the system is about as rational as blaming the entire socialist left for the murders committed by the Weather Underground. The solution to systemic problems will only be found in reforming or eliminating the system, attacking individuals will only inflame opposition and make the problem more intractable.

Finally, this is fundamentally the problem with the far left that makes it no better than the far right. What's their solution to all the people who work in and around the military, police, or major corporations that they've deemed to be permanently morally stained? Are they going to simply kill them all? Will they permanently reduce them to the status of second-class citizens? It sounds like the ideal far left society is no more committed to non-violence, restorative justice, or any form of redemption than our current society, and perhaps significantly less so.

So yeah, stop taking your frustrations about American foreign policy out on soldiers. Most of them joined to do the things we want our country to be doing like distributing aid after natural disasters, protecting countries like Ukraine from the aggression of their larger neighbors, or protecting the freedom of navigation on the open oceans and the vast majority of them will never kill another person. If you have problems with all of it, and I've got plenty, train your fire on the people who are actually responsible and remember your leftist theory; systemic problems cannot be solved by targeting individuals, that only makes things worse.

[melissamasakari]

Confessions you didn`t notice

Chapter thirteen. Siblings update.

“Kid, I've been asked to tell you to come to the Corps in the evening. Arlo said he has some news for you.”

“Why didn’t he say it himself? He just passed by, the dust has not yet settled. Didn't even say hello. Are they killing someone there?”

“Nope, the mail will be delivered to the harbor today. Wuwa has arrived.”

“Oh, crap. I'll get two heaps of letters from my aunt again. Is the post also your responsibility?”

“Apparently, there is something personal there. I didn't ask. Maybe some documents from Lucien.”

“Oh dear. Is the Red Rage Season on the horizon?”

“Something like that. Once again he will dump all the paperwork on me. Or worse – he will only deal with paperwork and nothing else.”

“And the staff hasn’t been expanded yet?”

“Maybe we’ll find out today. It's time for me to get on the route.”

“Wait, you're not on the night watch today, are you?”

“Certainly not. It's Phyllis' birthday.”

“Oh, right! Thanks for reminding me. I just have enough time to bring her a gift. Have a great party tonight.”

“We'll try our best, bye-bye.”

News, that is. Did he really manage to dig up something? Or is he waiting for something different? I just hope this is not an order for an urgent transfer to another Corps unit.

“Arlo, are you home?” I went into the suspiciously quiet reception room of the Headquarters. There was a commotion coming from the showers. Okay, remember, Melissa, you're here on business. STOP fantasizing how does he look like right now.

“Wait a little, I’ll be right there.” What’s making SO much noise in there?

“Are you okay there?”

“Almost. I got attacked by a scary creepy bucket. But I can handle it. Who the fuck put it here and when?” I heard the clanking metallic sounds again. He kicked it, right? So a new one will now be needed. Oh, here he comes. With a wet hair, a towel on his shoulders, scented with herbs and wearing cozy home attire. Looks quite cute.

“What did you want to tell me? And is this connected with today's return of Wuwa?”

“To a certain degree. Come with me.”

I obediently followed surprisingly smug Arlo and carefully walked around the sports equipment scattered here and there. I could see that his collection is growing. And there seemed to be more photos at the nightstand. As I was staring at the changes within his room, I tripped over a sports kettlebell. Holding back a cry of pain, I realized the irony of the situation: I gave it to him myself.

“Are you okay? Sorry, I just flew in recently and didn't have time to clean up. How bad are you hurt?”

“It’s unpleasant, but nothing critical, just hit my little finger. Well, so what are your news?”

“Sit down, before you get hurt more,” he cleared the table and pulled out a chair for me invitingly. “Are you sure you don’t need a doctor? Xu's on duty today.”

“Maybe we’ll go later. Just spill your news, Captain.”

“Briefly speaking.”He rummaged through a pile of papers “they dug out Maurice’s medical record for us. It's obscenely old, but the basic information is there. There's also something about Clara if you need it. Unfortunately, not much, but I did everything I could.”

“Mom’s documents? Wow! I have almost nothing left from her. Let me see!” I reached for the stack of papers in his hand.

“Not so fast,” he teased, holding the stack of papers close. “You promised me something in return.” Oh, what a sly smile. I still hope that he will just ask for a DATE. True, I still don’t know what’s in the documents. Maybe we can't date at all.

“You still haven’t told me what do you want. If you broke the wall there with a bucket, I’ll fix it – no problem.”

“You will NOT get off that easy. I want to know what kind of investigation you’re doing. And why did you need the help of all the doctors and scientists.” Wow, so he dug it up. Okay, he cornered me.

“Fine. Let me collect my thoughts a little. You caught me off guard with this question. It's like I'm under interrogation.”

“I can bring you some tea while you’re collecting yourself. How much sugar do you want?”

“Two. No, better three and tea should be very strong. Wait, what? You've never had sugar here.”

“Now I do.”He pointedly shoved a stack of papers that interested me onto the top of his wardrobe and left.

I had no intention of peeking without permission. Although the law is on MY side now, actually. Well, how can I tell him all of this now? I will have to be as honest as possible, there are no other options. Because without his participation, the solution is not possible.

“Here you go. I’m listening,” a steaming cup of fragrant tea moved into my hands.

“If you’ll loom over me like that and I’ll forget why I came.”

“Because of fear? Am I that formidable?”

“No, out of admiration. For someone I suspect to be my older brother,” I blurted out and took a sip from my cup. It is delicious, alright.

“What? I would know if I had a sister. But my parents never got to get me one.”

“Gale thinks that you look suspiciously like me and Maurice.”

“How? Almost half of the city looks like you and me in various combinations. Are you going to consider everyone as relatives?”

“Why not? I’ve always wanted a real family. And it is quite possible that somewhere in the Free Cities I have a dozen of siblings. Pa didn't mourn for too long as far as I can tell...”

“Maybe. But at least Clara or Kendra should have known about the presence of someone older than you. So, you are against having me as your family?”

“I definitely did NOT say that.” Actually, I REALLY want to.

“Then what is it?”

“Would you be satisfied with this ‘brother’ status? In relation to ME.”

“Now that you’ve turned it around like that, I don’t know. But nothing stops us from going and checking. Right now. And we’ll show you your little finger to a doctor right away too.”

“Don’t you want to dry your hair properly first? The wind will blow it and you can catch a cold.”

“It’s too hot out there. But at least I can think clearly this way.”

Throwing the towel onto the bed and taking the papers from the closet, Arlo dragged me towards the exit.

“Hey, Xu! Hello, I need to talk business with you. No, two businesses,” the redhead dumped a stack of papers in front of the puzzled doctor and pointed at me. Come on, I’m hardly limping anymore, why such concern? “Please examine this young lady, she had hurt her foot and she is probably lying about the severity of her condition.”

“Good evening. Go to the couch, take off your shoes. And what’s the second thing?” The doc slowly left his place at the table, took the examination instruments and walked towards me while I followed his request.

“You’ve probably already heard this question recently. Can you check if two people are related? We have a noisy argument, and I want arguments.”

“Yeah, I understand. Give me that vial from the third shelf. Now you’ll feel some unpleasant sensations,” the doctor grabbed my foot and anointed me with something smelly from that vial. Then he gently blew on the injured area and deftly bandaged everything with a small piece of cloth and let me rest.

“Thank you, Xu. It was very elegant,” I praised the doctor.

“Trying my best. Do not tighten the lacing, but rather wear loose shoes. Avoid exercise for three days. If it hurts, apply something cool. If you notice severe swelling, contact me immediately. It may turn blue by morning – this is normal.”

“Mine usually turns yellow,” I slightly rolled up my shirt sleeve and showed a mark from a recent bruise just above the elbow.

“Individual reaction. Who did you want to check for blood relation? Each other, or what?”

“Well, sort of. You see, Gale spun some nonsense, and since I don’t really know much about dad, I’d like to find out.”

“Then I will immediately inform that this is absolutely impossible. I don’t argue that you have similar traits and certain suspicions could exist. Eyes with such a shade of iris are really not very common. At least here. Although, if you think about it... Take a closer look at Antoine, he is more suitable based on other criteria. And closer in age to time Maurice left.”

“What?! What kind of criteria? He never told me anything about his family. But that might explain his obsessive preoccupation with me. I’ll ask,” I said, confused. Well, Antoine is better than Arlo, of course. But that’s still very strange.

“What kind of criteria do you mean? One is not enough for a definite answer, isn’t it?” The redhead asked.

“I’m curious too. And why could it be Antoine... Is there some evidence?”

“Yes. But we are now looking the other way. Blood type is inherited. And since you have 00+ and you inherited it, judging by these papers, from your father, then...”

“Then?” Arlo became interested and pushed forward, leaning his elbows on the table, on the exact spot from where the doctor had recently moved.

“Do not interrupt! This combination is not possible. Your blood type is too rare. AB +. In the Old World there were less than ten percent of such people. Maurice cannot possibly be your father; he does not have the necessary, to put it simply... inherit traits. Besides, I'm quite confident in your parents, too. They have just such a combination that works out perfectly to produce you. What made you doubt?”

“I guess I just believed in the idea that I could have a sister,” the redhead nodded in my direction, “I had always wanted to.”

“Not in this case. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, thank you very much. We won't distract you more.”

Arlo, now definitely-not-my-brother, for a change very carefully opened the door of the clinic, let me out and also quietly closed it behind him. Growing up, I guess?

“Well, are you satisfied with the result?”

“Quite. And you sound a bit disappointed.”

“Never mind. All sorts of stupid thoughts. May I escort you home?”

“In this clothes? Will you go through the whole city like that? No, all the girls, should they meet you along the way, they will be jealous, of course. But then all sorts of rumors will be spread.”

“Oh, stop it. We can then go to my place. Do you want to? Let's prepare dinner, rest until the morning. If your finger gets worse, the clinic is nearby. I'm hanging in my den all alone today.”

“Sounds like you're planning some family get-together after work.”

“Oh well, suit yourself. Just let's go somewhere already, otherwise the midges will skin us alive.”

“OK. Can you tell me a bedtime story, brother?” I teased and entered the headquarters.

“Whatever, just don’t ever call me that again.”

“Accepted. What are we going to cook?” I asked starting towards the kitchen.

“Can you teach me that creamy spaghetti recipe? It seems like we have everything we need for that recipe.”

“No problem. I’ll just go get changed, do you mind?”

“It feels like you planned to stay from the beginning.”

“Random coincidence. Carol caught me on the way here and told me that my new home attire is ready.”

“Should I give you some slippers?”

“Your slippers? I'll end up with even more bumps. Besides, the floor is cool, which is good for my injury.”

“Well, then hop in the shower. There is a first aid kit there. The towel is fresh. Just like I knew that you'll stay here. I'll go clean up the mess in the room while waiting.”

A very badly dented bucket met me right at the threshold of the shower. Arlo kicked it well, and I somehow forgot it. It’s so strange, this is not my first time here, but today the feeling is completely different. It's like I belong here. Having properly showered, I went out to try on my new outfit. Everything was exactly as I ordered: long narrow pants made of gray stretchy fabric and a long blue T-shirt almost reaching the knees. Comfortable. It’s a pity, the mirror is fogged up, I can’t really see anything. I tied up my damp hair with the ribbon and went to the reception room.

“I'm ready. What do you think?”

“Wonderful! I had just finished and was getting lonely.”

We quickly prepared dinner leaving no mess behind. Once again I noticed how smoothly we do anything together, and it’s not tedious at all. Even cleaning was not annoying. We ate dinner in the kitchen, so as not to carry dishes. Then we washed everything right away.

“You see, I told you, you’re doing great.”

“Only under your strict guidance. It's a good thing you weren't here the last time I screwed up fried eggs.”

“You gotta be kidding me! How did you do that?”

“Hm, at first egg white wasn’t cooked through. I increased the heat and covered it with a lid. Then I just blinked for a moment and came to my senses when there were only embers. Sam then scolded me and didn’t allow me to close the windows for another two days.”

“Well, shit happens. Didn’t you think of just stirring the excessive liquid whites with a spatula in a hot frying pan? This is how we did it with the sauce today.”

“Was it possible?”

“I hope you’re just having me on now. I won’t believe that with your great cooking skills you didn’t gasp such an obvious method on your own.”

“Now I know. Or maybe, you'll show it to me in the morning, I’ll remember it better with practice.”

“Agreed. What's next for us with the declared program? Do you have some kind of night work available or you’re just on alert duty?”

“More of the second. I am here in case of something bad happens. By the way, let's go check if anyone came in.”

“Let's go, of course. I'm occupying the sofa next to the cage!” I carefully walked around the furniture, nursing my leg, and was the first to leave the kitchen.

“That’s not fair! This is my favorite spot!” He rushed after.

“What about the rules of hospitality?” I said, plopped down in the corner of the sofa, placed a couple of pillows to my convenience and tucked my legs under me.

“You're right. And obviously you’re so small that the two of us can fit in here together!”

“Well, come on, just don’t push. Where is my promised fairy tale?”

“Fine. I’ll put the baby to bed and head to my place,” I responded to this malicious remark by throwing a pillow at him.

“Once again you’ll call me baby and...”

“And what?” He interrupted me with a sly grin, fluffing the pillow he caught.

“And our relationship is over. I will stop visiting and formalize our communication. Or cut if off completely.” Ha, Melissa, do you yourself believe in your own threat?

“Got it, sorry, just don't be angry please. I won’t survive such a blow,” said Arlo, not embarrassed at all. He lounged next to me at his full height. Unable to resist, I lightly tickled his feet. There was no reaction, as If it was just the way of things.

“You’re not afraid of tickles, are you?” I was indignant and increased pressure.

“I don't know. You are the first one who dared to try. Keep going and we'll figure it out.”

“That’s not interesting. You're not reacting.”

“So how should it be? Your fingers are so warm and tender. If this should have annoyed me, you guessed wrong. By the way, this is quite surprising.”

“What exactly?”

“With such neat little hands you manage to swing a sledgehammer and carry heavy things. And then you come home in the evening and embroider all sorts of custom-made jewelry.”

“Oh, so did you see the brooch I gave to Phyllis today? I spent two weeks fiddling around and barely managed to finish it. People don't usually order things like this from me. That’s exclusive for my friends.”

“I saw it, yeah. Out of the corner of my eye. You know, considering WHERE the girls pin such decorations, I didn’t get much time to look at it,” wow, he blushed deeply. Looks so handsome.

“Yeah. She has great distraction unit,” I said with envy, “at least she liked the gift. I was very worried.”

“By the way, why aren’t you with them? I thought you'd be invited.”

“Maybe because I’m with you now?”

“An unexpected choice.”

“Why? I feel good with you. Moreover, you invited me yourself. And you also got me a royal gift.”

“Which one? I didn't seem to do anything special today.”

“Memory of my mother. And very cozy night gathering. It’s not often that someone can just find you at home like that.”

“More often than you think. But I'm usually not able to have long conversations when I'm so tired that I’m all but crawling.”

“Then I’ll take advantage of the moment. Tell me something funny, okay? Surely you have a whole load of all sorts of interesting stories from your time in Corps.”

“Well, okay. But at first I wanna hear one of yours.”

“Which one?”

“About your Civil corps badges. Why didn’t you mention before that you were in Corps?”

“Oh. You didn’t ask. And I thought you would notice such a detail in my profile sooner, Mr Great Detective. Why does it bother you now?”

“Cause I think you’re qualified enough to lead Corps here. Well, when I’ll finally get my promotion and leave that is. I need to make sure my successor will be a reliable person. I thought of Sam at first, cause Remy wants to leave to Periphery once. So... it could be your position instead, I can do that.” He thoughtfully scratched his beard while loading those thoughts onto me. “Would you accept such a job offer then?”

“FUCK YOU, red-block-head!” Or better yet fuck me instead! “No way I’m taking your place here. Don’t even dare to ask me again!” I stood up abruptly, took a few steps and heavily hit his shoulder with another pillow. I just don’t wanna think about him leaving Portia. Not NOW, I almost finished that dumb heart knot! At least give me a chance to confess properly!

“But why not? You’re good fighter, also smart and quite diplomatic. And my team admires you as well. You’ll do just great!” He tried to take the pillow out of my hand.

“I said STOP it, please,” my voice broke cause I was trying to hold my tears back and turned away. “I’ll go and make us some tea” I muttered and took a step away.

“Wait.” Arlo grabbed my wrist pulling me back. Then he sat me down on the coach beside him and hugged me from behind. I was caught completely off guard and almost bursted into tears.

For some time nothing more happened. I just sat there enveloped in his arms and listened to his heartbeat. Despite the fact that it was beating very fast it managed to calm me down. Maybe it will change pretty soon, but now he is with me. Right here. And I hope he enjoys this as much as I do. Otherwise he wouldn’t hug me, right?

“Well, now I wanna know about YOUR great plans for the future. When you’ll pass your exams and finally join The Flying Pigs.” I leaned my head a little bit back so I could rest it on his shoulder more comfortably.

“I just...Didn’t think that far. So. I don’t know for sure.”

“Understood. Right now nothing keeps you here except for your duty.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Please, prove me wrong, captain. “But now that I think about it...”

“I really like spaghetti. Oh, with hot sauce.”, I couldn’t help myself but continue his catch-phrase. I’ve heard it so many times that my imitation turned out quite good.

“Ha! You got me!” He laughed softly and released me from the hug. “Now we’re in a proper mood for funny stories, let’s get some tea and finally start.”

So we stayed there almost until dawn, comfortably sitting on the sofa. Arlo told some stories about work, I listened attentively, sipping fragrant tea. They speak the truth in the city, he’s a good tale-teller, I listened as if enchanted.

I was awakened by the strange sound of a mechanical click. Lazily opening one eye, I saw Remy, barefoot, sneaking upstairs. What a bullshit, I’m probably dreaming. The click was repeated. A more detailed inspection of the surroundings revealed that an extremely happy Sam was standing opposite the sofa with a camera in her hands. With gestures she first indicated ‘quiet’, then nodded upward, drew a heart in the air with her finger and smiled smugly. Then she touched the camera hanging on the neck strap and nodded again. What a pantomime! Why is she so happy? Following the direction of my grinning friend’s gaze, I found Arlo sleeping peacefully next to me. He still didn’t go to his bed. Instead, he sat with his back leaning against the corner of the sofa, his elbow resting unsteadily on the armrest. Trying to move as little as possible, I realized that my head was resting comfortably on his shoulder and I was partially hidden by the blanket wrapping us together. The top of my head was tickled by his red fluffy beard. He seemed to put his other arm around me, holding me close to him. I didn’t even remember when he managed to bring the blanket yesterday. After thinking a little, I settled back down to get some sleep over the strong and calm beat of his heart. I tried not to wake him up; if he wants to, he’ll get out on his own. Releasing one hand from under the blanket, I pointed my finger first at the camera in Sam's hand, then stuck out three fingers. Having waited for an affirmative nod, I showed her where my bag was and, fidgeting a little, fell asleep.

The next time I was alerted by the creaking sound of the door. Sam was doing something in the boss's bedroom. What a sly cat! I’ll find out what kind of a mess she’s done there later. She'll tell me everything anyway. I hope at least she didn’t forge his signatures.

I finally woke up when I realized that I my head and hair were gently stroked. That feels so nice! I decided to pretend to be asleep to prolong the pleasure. It might have worked, but one strand tickled my nose. Arlo recoiled, pretending that he had nothing to do with it. I jerked up sharply and sneezed deafeningly.

“Bless you!”

“Thanks. Have you been awake for a long time?” “I woke just now. I didn’t want to wake you up, it just happened,” he answered in a guilty tone. “Don’t worry,” I crawled away and stretched sleepily. I tried to look at the clock above the front door, but I couldn’t see it from here. “What time is it? Don't you need to save the world at once?” “A little after noon. Saving not required just now, so we have enough time to wash up and have a breakfast.”

“Okay,” I rubbed my eyes with my fists, “is the order arbitrary?”

“I recommend starting with your morning routine. In the meantime, I'll see what we can cook.”

“Sure. And what’s your plans for today?”

“I'm gonna ruin dive. It’s my turn.”

“Oh, yes. It’s Sunday. Well, be careful down there. Remember, safety first!”

I cleaned myself up and changed clothes and that’s when I found new photographs in my bag. Sam is an angel! Oh, how cute we turned out! Just like two sleeping kitties. I'll hang it right on the closet door! So every time I change clothes, I will recall this wonderful moment. Me and Arlo had a breakfast and went about our businesses. Now it's definitely right time to finish my special gift for him.

[that-ari-blogger]

The Importance of History (Them's The Breaks, Kid)

Darkness. Silence. Anticipation.

A camera whirs to life, showing a figure looking directly out. They are quiet, dressed in old clothes and covered in signs of fatigue. Their hair is a mess, their glasses are dirty. They look scared, wary, guilty. Vulnerable.

They clear their throat a few times, raising a glass of water to their lips and taking a careful sip. They look up at the camera with blood shot eyes. One slow breath, and then…

“Hey guys, Ari here. I made a mistake. I left out an episode of the show, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

Ok, the bit is stale already. This is a post about context.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (The Owl House)

Let’s start with some framing. It’s something I missed out on in an earlier post, but the origins of the Boiling Isles are old as all hell.

The earliest we see in this series is about fifty to sixty years before Luz arrived, that being the Deadwardian era, and Them’s the Breaks, Kid shows us twenty-ish years in the past again.

But hear me out here. Eda mentions old witches who used to use glyph magic. This would have happened a while ago, to the point where it is only recorded in history books and people have forgotten about it before Phillip rocked up, and it's not the type of thing anyone has been able to replicate.

Then there is the wrinkle set by the Bat Queen. She is a palisman for a giant, too small for the titan, but far too big for a human sized person, which implies that there were once giants roaming the Boiling Isles, and they have had time to go extinct and also be forgotten, along with all evidence of their existence.

Even if they just up and went somewhere else for some reason, they would have left behind ruins of stuff they had made, and that has had time to disappear entirely.

Going back even further, we technically got a glimpse of a prehistoric Boiling Isles in Elsewhere and Elsewhen as well, that was the setup for the Stonesleeper.

This is standard history. Our world has ages and empires that have been lost to time, as well as a fair few eras of prehistory. What makes the Boiling Isles different, is that all of this took place on the carcass of a dead titan.

Where did the titans come from? How old could they get? Was this one killed unnaturally? Are there any others? How did the Titans evolve? What is the history of this world?

We will never know, but it does act as a jumping off point for my favourite part of history, that being the futility of conspiracy theories.

For the record, I am referring here to theories about history that have been proven untrue. The type that looks at something and decide it had to be some ancient, unknowable monster because it is too impressive.

The thing I like about this is the fact that you can look into these places and see that there absolutely was an eldritch being responsible for these feats, and its name was humanity.

I think the theories about aliens take away from the human achievements and their scale in the face of history. Here’s a building that is designed to light up perfectly at sunrise once every year. What could possibly have done that? A human being, that’s what.

We are the things that go bump in the space between pages of history. We are the monster that keeps us up at night. We are the centres of our own mysteries.

Taking away agency from history infantilises ancient people and has iffy connotations when you take a look at who gets that agency removed from them. Human history is impressive, and even more so when you realise how small we are as individuals in comparison to it.

Why do I bring this up?

It's something interesting I found. An element of history that reflects our own in a weird way that isn’t really a reflection at all. It’s a what if.

But also, it provides context. Not all of it is important, but history does rhyme with itself, and it’s nice to know what’s happened before so you can make moves for the future. If a domino chain leads a war, and you spot someone setting up a suspiciously similar line, you can step in.

This can be used in a much smaller scale, as a person’s history can explain their own actions, and lead you to predict their future or better understand their present. In this case, it gives more of a meaning to Eda and Raine’s relationship.

Eda opens by asking Lilith about history. There's a theme being set up here.

But that works both ways. Just as the audience is gaining information on the past, it knows where these stories are heading. You know that Eda and Lilith’s relationship is going to fall apart, and the episode reminds you of that by introducing them halfway through preparing for those fateful tryouts.

It also introduces Bump as an awkward subordinate, nowhere near the confidence of his present or even former self. This is the man who, as a student, took Hexide by force. But now he’s anxious and afraid.

The knowledge of what he will become makes this incarnation of the character funnier, but it also makes the moment when he stands up to Terra cathartic, and even more of a breaking point. He comes so close to being the Bump we know and love but fluffs it at the last moment.

However, it also reflects on how the education system in the Boiling Isles works.

We’ll start with Faust, because he’s the easiest to point at. He’s a teacher who cares about his reputation more than anything else. He doesn’t have the students’ best interests at all, and values only the appearance of perfection.

He expels the prize pupil, and it's glossed over because that doesn’t matter to him. To him, aesthetics are everything.

Exhibit A, he has a portrait of himself over his desk, holding a book of rules that he made up. He’s power hungry, which works with the name. Faust. After the scoundrel who made a deal with the devil.

However, it is Terra who interests me, because she is a cartoonishly evil villain for whom this episode acts as a second introduction. We meet each character in this series twice, once as a superficial trope, and once with more depth, and here is no different. Terra is a menace with a code. She values strength, and if you prove yourself, she will protect you.

But she is also indoctrinating children.

I’ve expressed my distaste for buzz word analysis before, so here’s what I mean.

The game in which kids are associated with either wild witches or covens is a method of teaching. It tells these kids that coven witches get to feel powerful, and that they are the natural enemy of wild witches. It teaches them that there is no way for wild witches to win, so there is no point. It teaches them that the emperor’s way of life is the only way of life.

But hold on a sec, because we can see clearly the writing on the wall here. The kids can’t, but we see this as teaching falsities. Isn’t there someone to sort that out and ensure the truth? Yes. In some places, that’s the government, but that only works if the checks and balances apply to everyone. If you have someone for whom rules do not mean anything, the whole system falls apart.

I don’t just mean Terra by this; I mean the person to whom she is subordinate. Belos has established that he can do whatever he wants, and the people closest to him have taken that as an excuse to gain the same type of power.

I think it’s notable that Belos didn’t rise on his own, he found people to support him. People who believed in him. He created a system of oppression, and learning from our history for a moment here, that doesn’t ever happen because of just one person.

I brought up the history of the Isles to point out just how much we don't know, and that nobody knows about.

History can be destroyed, or taken, or hidden. It can be obstructed behind paywalls and museum windows, and that can destroy cultures, but it can also cover up things that need to be remembered. Don’t put the facts on a pedestal, put them in context and learn from them.

Belos is a character fundamentally centred around keeping people in the dark, away from the knowledge of his own misdeeds. So, he has made learning about anything except what he thinks the world should be almost impossible.

We don't know about the Titan, or the Giants, or anyone besides Belos. I suspect that was very much intentional and a group of people have been trying extremely hard to make it so.

Final Thoughts

I’m posting these out of order because I genuinely thought his episode came after Hollow Mind for some reason. I don’t know why. But I will be putting it in the playlist in the actual order of the series. So, to those reading later, now you understand the introduction.

I’ve been thinking about the age of the Isles and its history as part of my season three hypothetical. I had the idea of the collector’s shaking up of the geography revealing things that were hidden by Belos, or destroyed, or maybe even older. I really want to lean into the “we are living on a dead god” aspect of the series. Maybe the characters don’t bring any of this up, but the audience can see things and clue in to the timeline of the isles. I think that would be fun.

Next post is Hollow Mind, and that post is already up. So, check that out if you want to, and stick around if my musings interest you.

Previous - Next

[gofancyninjaworld]

From webcomic to manga: is there a responsible adult?

One scene that I had been expecting to show up in the manga now looks unlikely to happen (not impossible, just unlikely): the scene of an angry Child Emperor working alone at his secret base, scandalized at the failure of the few heroes he looked up to to show when it mattered.

In the manga, the pressure Child Emperor is under in Class S has been both more explicit, and more outrageous. He’s directly consulted for his technical expertise. He has the unpleasant job of having to try to manage the S-Class -- for ambitious, grown-ass adults, they fight shockingly shy of taking responsibility -- in all their fractious glory. It would also seem that he’s one of the few people who can talk to Metal Knight at all, although it’s not a great relationship. Far from joining forces, Metal Knight washes his hands of the whole affair, much to Child Emperor’s dismay, and goes incommunicado, saying only that there’s a mole somewhere in the camp. 

We really were all set up to see his dwindling faith in his fellow heroes crumble in high-definition. Doubly so when Phoenixman gets a claw on Child Emperor and starts working his poisonous persuasion on him.

Instead...

...we learn that there’s at least one person he’s been able to look up to, who looks out for him. Zombieman has been an unlikely role model for Child Emperor and being reminded that he’s out there thinking about him despite everything was exactly what the boy needed to remember why he was doing the things he was.

We’re shown more than once that others do actively look to protect him.

We find out that troublesome and idiosyncratic as the S-Class is, they’re all decent heroes at heart. When Atomic Samurai of all people decides to get off his high horse and coordinate the other heroes to help take down Psykos-Orochi, the shock and gratitude on Child Emperor’s face speaks volumes.  Indeed, whatever happened in the rest of the arc, they did not let him down.

When he’s doubting his judgement, Zombieman reminded him that it’s okay to be human and to have things to learn. If anything, being able to acknowledge that is the opposite of a sign of failure. It’s an important lesson to learn so young.

I like too that Zombieman points out that he’s not the only reasonable adult whom Child Emperor can approach for help and advice.  Very important that: it’s too easy to try to monopolise a young person’s admiration for oneself.

And now, let’s talk about the heroes who let him down so badly in the webcomic.

 Blast did show up when it mattered most that he did. Very few saw him (and in the current timeline he didn’t need to step in to take on Garou) but he was there. A pity Child Emperor didn’t see him in person but at least he got to hear of it. Albeit in terms that Blast might not have liked but it’s not like the old man is going to show up and correct the record, is it?

Even Metal Knight did good. They may not have been on speaking terms any longer, and he may not have shown up in battle, but his prompt clean up of the radioactive fallout and rounding up survivors for treatment went a long way to mitigating the damage done that day. Guess we won’t be getting to see our heroes dying of leukemia just yet.

Wow, what an experience it’s been for our youngest hero!

He’s at that age where kids may be acquiring a decent degree of functional independence but still need to know that there are older, wiser heads looking out for them and reliable hands to reach out to them. In a way, we never outgrow that -- interdependence is the healthy human state after all -- but knowing that there are some reliable adults out there really makes all the difference in shaping a child’s life to a good adulthood. No joke, people who have turned out okay despite a difficult childhood do speak of having had at least *one* good adult in their lives, even if it was someone they saw only infrequently.

What I really have liked about this is that wholesome as it is, the different experience that Child Emperor has of his fellow heroes does not come about because they’re just super-sweet versions of their webcomic originals. If anything, they’re much more complex people.

What is the case is that they’re credible heroes rather than overpowered do-gooders who have put little work into thinking what they need to do to actually *be* heroes. It stretches one’s disbelief that the guys we see in the webcomic could successfully have been presented to the public as their heroes year after year (and the backlash against the Hero Association speaks to a sense of public betrayal). The webcomic makes it work because the Monster Association debacle was very small and contained but the threat is a lot more serious in the manga, and heroes-in-name-only just won’t cut it. The backlash is probably going to be just as severe though. People just don’t forgive being left in pain, and unfortunately, there is a lot of pain.

Trouble is, Child Emperor is unlikely to forget what Phoenixman told him. Somehow, that poison is going to work its way through and how it comes out remains to be seen.

In short, I love this development but I am still anxious about little Isamu. At the end of the day, he’s still a child who has been captured by adults and tasked with looking after them. I would love nothing better than for him to be able to have playdates with Waganma, Tareo, and their hangers-on, just to be a child again for a while at times. For the breathing space.

Good luck, Isamu-kun!

[creatively-cosmic]

New pinned? Earlier today we got some tags on one of our art that reminded me that we never really went back and explained anything about ourselves, so. Gonna do it now.

Heya! We're Starry. This is our artblog.

We're a 20y/o genderfucked queer polyfragmented system with a lotta fictives. Pretty much everything here is based on shit in our brain. Heads up: We post Gore, Horror, and occasionally Suggestive content (tagged), along with artistic and partial nudity (which may not get tagged).

You might notice we never take acknowledging our plurality very seriously, or explain things regarding it much ever. That's... Pretty simply cause we don't want to put that on the internet for everyone and God to see. We're explaining it here because it's a part of our art and a frame of reference for a lot of things we make and say.

DON'T TAKE THIS POST AS ANY FORM OF A DNI. We don't want things we make to be treated any differently because of this. The works, writings, designs, and stories we put here are all from a place of concious thought and passion! While we call this blog more of a personal art archival, we do genuinely still put it online to share art that we've put thought, heart, and soul into.

For the record, to make things abundantly clear, we'll put a list of specifications under the cut. But in a nutshell, the main "boundary" I give a shit about is this:

Don't interact with our posts any differently than you would literally anything else. When you talk to us directly, just remember to not treat us like characters.

Thanks for reading. More below if you want more clarification.

Stuff that's fine:

We're fine with "doubles." You can be, kin, ID as whoever you want. If you relate to our stuff specifically, too? I promise that's fine. Awesome, in fact!

Comments/tags. Pleaseee comment on our art in fact it always makes our day. We see all that shit. Analyze, keysmash, shit you can even say some unwise stuff if you wanna. Don't hold back.

Fanart. Look if you ever got possessed to draw one of our designs I think we'd die for you on the spot. No questions asked, go for it.

Asks! Man, feel free to ask about anything. Ask about our stories, designs, opinions, experiences, whatever. Just don't ask about our trauma.

You can use our art as icons and such, just make sure to credit properly if it's in a public space ie social media or discord profile. Don't use it for any of that AI shit though.

Stuff that ISN'T fine:

I can't be damned to fill this out in any thorough way cause I don't really have any hard NOs, honestly. So this is just like. One thing, and it's an elaboration on the earlier bolded thing: Don't TALK DIRECTLY TO US as if we are characters. What I mean by this is... Us being fictives and talking about our stories doesn't mean this is a character blog. It isn't a roleplay blog. It's just us being us. Don't send messages or asks looking for someone specific, or expecting a specific reply, cause their source is your blorbo. And don't get shocked or offended when we inevitably act out of character in our posts, cause we AREN'T a character. We're people.

I guess this goes in hand with that but, don't tell us we're existing wrong as a fictive, alter, or system, too. I'll just block you. This is the only serious response anyone who might try to fakeclaim us is getting. I am not here to explain why we are the way we are, who we are, or what happened. Anyone engaging in """syscourse,""" please. Step back and understand that all that shit is, is sticking your nose into the trauma of strangers on the internet to decide if they're "correct" enough in your eyes. Nobody owes you their life story so you can decide if they're valid. Put your energy into something better.