#just mixing two of my favorite pieces of media for no reason other than i simply can

[scary-grace]

still life, with hope (part 2) -- a shigaraki x f!reader fic

You're an art student with a crippling fear of birds and an assignment to create art from life, so when you're assigned to study swans, you're pretty much dead in the water. And there's something strange about the swans you find on a secluded lake, something all too human. As your artwork grows increasingly surreal and your suspicions about the swans continue to build, you can't help but ask yourself the question: Are you losing your mind, or have you walked into the middle of a fairytale gone wrong? Whatever it is, you'd better figure it out fast. Seven lives depend on the answer. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is for @shigarakislaughter, who requested this prompt from my winter prompt list: hear the fallen and lonely cry out / can you fix me up, can you show me hope. I apologize for how long this took, and the fact that it'll be in multiple chapters, but I really hope you like it! Swan Lake AU, modern setting/no quirks, art student!reader. dividers by @cafekitsune.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“Well, we’re toast.” Shoko slumps against the wall with a sigh. “He’s going to fail us.”

“He can’t fail us if we complete the exhibition,” Kai says, but even through his mask, you can tell he’s demoralized. “We’re simply out of the running for the actual prize.”

You remember when you thought winning the prize and getting your exhibition added to the museum’s permanent collection was attainable, instead of just something you have to watch Keigo or Mirio or one of the professor’s other favorites get. “I don’t understand why he’s mad at us. What did we even do?”

“You and Kai complained about your subjects,” Shoko points out. You grimace. “But there’s no way he’s this mad at me just for hanging out with the two of you.

As far as you can tell, you and Shoko and Kai have been following the instructions for the Capstone project to the letter, but in the eyes of your professor, the three of you can’t do anything right. His critiques run one way in a given week, then the opposite way in the next, and by the third week you’re in trouble for not including them both. He never picks on technique for any of you, which you guess is a good thing – but, to quote your professor, “It takes more than technique to be an artist.” You never leave the critique period feeling anything but dispirited.

This week’s criticism, leveled at all three of you simultaneously, was twofold: First, that you don’t have enough finished pieces, and second, that you don’t have enough variation in the mediums of the insufficient number of finished pieces you have. Kai is griping about it as you walk to the library. “Seven finished pieces is perfectly reasonable. It takes some artists half a year to complete one work they’re happy with. I should have asked him what he thought an appropriate number would be.”

“He’d have said Keigo’s number,” you say glumly.

“Keigo could sneeze on a canvas and the professor would like it,” Shoko says venomously. “Of course Keigo has a billion pieces. Keigo doesn’t have to work.”

“And he doesn’t have to hike to encounter his subject,” Kai says. “And he can afford all the materials he wants.”

The unfairness is starting to get to you as you climb the steps. “So we’re in trouble because we don’t have enough pieces and they aren’t different enough, but workshop hours are limited, and we can’t even use all of them because we’re supposed to go observe – and we’re supposed to do mixed media with equipment we can’t afford in all the time we don’t have?”

“That’s correct.” Shoko mimics the professor, and Kai snorts behind his mask. “We’re screwed. What are we doing in here, anyway?”

“I’m picking up something. I used that library chat thing and asked one of the assistant librarians if they could help me find a book about swans.”

That’s not quite accurate. You asked if they could find a book on fairytales involving swans. You look around for the librarians. “It should just be a second. They said they would –”

“I am here with the stories you requested,” a deep voice rings out, and you, Shoko, and Kai all jump as the head librarian emerges from somewhere in the shadows. “My apologies for startling you. I understand you spoke to one of my assistants, but he had to leave early. He left me to make the delivery.”

The librarian is smiling. You can tell he’s trying to be friendly. Unfortunately, his friendly is yours and everybody else’s terrifying, and Shoko and Kai both take noticeable steps back. You hold your ground and try to smile back. “There is no book pertaining specifically to swans, but my assistant and I collected all relevant stories and printed them here for you,” the librarian says, holding out a binder. “I heard the three of you discussing artworks. Are you participating in the Capstone exhibition?”

“In theory,” Kai says.

“Not if the professor has anything to say about it,” Shoko mutters. “He’s way more of a hard-ass than I thought. All his Rate My Professor reviews were great. Wasn’t there that one about how his smile looks like Buddha’s?”

“That one was really weird,” you say. You take the binder from the librarian, trying to ignore the way his eyes bore into you. He towers over you, scrawny like a scarecrow. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Might I offer a suggestion?” the librarian asks. “If you are unable to find workshop time during the day, why not find it overnight?”

“That’s not allowed,” Kai says. Then he frowns. “Is it?”

“Check the rules,” the librarian suggests. “The building remains open if anyone is in it, and I believe it’s possible to reserve a space in advance – and of course, while in a school workshop, the supplies and equipment are free to use.”

Kai whips out his phone to check. “It is possible,” he reports. “The only day available is next Thursday.”

“Critique is on Friday. That’ll work,” Shoko says. Her eyes brighten. “We could do it.”

“At least then if we get in trouble again, we’ll know we gave it a shot,” you say. “Book it.”

Kai books the studio, and you turn to thank the librarian for the tip. He’s already gone, faded back into the stacks, and Shoko pulls you out of the building in a hurry. “This could work,” she says to you. “If we have a really good idea of what we’re working on going in, and we make sure we have the materials we need –”

“We should bring food and stuff. So we can just keep working even when we’re hungry.”

“I can bring something to assist as well,” Kai says. He sighs. “As you said. When we’re eviscerated in front of the class next week, at least we’ll have tried.”

You and Shoko head home. You live close enough to campus that you can walk instead of bike, but the air is so bitterly cold that you wish you’d taken the three-second shuttle ride to the edge of campus instead. You’re shivering even after you’ve been inside for fifteen minutes and chugged half a cup of hot tea. “I wish we had a fireplace,” Shoko says. “You know, those giant ones they have in castles.”

“That would be bigger than our whole apartment,” you say. “Not disagreeing, though. I hate thinking about how cold it’s going to be up at the lake tomorrow.”

“You’re going up again?” Shoko gives you a weird look. “That’s not a workshop period. And I know you’ve got tons of sketches and small pieces already.”

“Yeah, but they aren’t good enough, I guess.” You were proud of some of this week’s stuff. Even knowing that the critique wasn’t of the quality of today’s finished pieces, it still stings. “Besides, I bought a bunch of stuff for the swans. They get hungry.”

“Wait, you’re feeding them now? They’re wild animals.”

“Not that wild. Somebody clipped their wings.” When you first saw Spooky’s mutilated wing, you were shocked, sad, horrified. Then you did some research, and had some nightmares about skeletal flight feathers and fingernails and toenails peeled off, and now you’re just really pissed. “They’d fly away if they could, but they can’t. They’re stuck and they’re hungry. I’m going to bring them food.”

“Okay, but theoretically they’ve been eating somehow without you,” Shoko says. “If they were at risk of starving, they’d have starved already with however many winters they’ve spent there. Don’t you think?”

You shake your head. “Clipping wings isn’t permanent. Somebody keeps doing it.”

“So let them feed the swans,” Shoko says, and you glare at her. “Okay! Sorry. Sorry. I just – since when do you like swans? I thought you were scared of them.”

“I am,” you say. “I can be scared of them and care about them at the same time.”

“Okay,” Shoko says again. Her expression takes on a thoughtful cast. “Sorry. I’ve known you since freshman year and I’ve never seen you get this committed to anything except art. Not even when you were dating people.”

You and Shoko have bad luck with dating. She keeps trying, but you’re not as good at getting dates as she is, and even when you do, there’s something missing. No matter who’s sitting across the table at the coffee shop from you or walking with you and reaching for your hand, you’ve never felt the kind of pull towards them you’re supposed to. You yearn, sure. You yearn so much that it’s kept you up nights before, or found you crying in the shower when you’ve gotten home from another date that should have worked but didn’t. You know that feeling must be out there somewhere, or people wouldn’t write so many songs about it. You’ve accepted that it’s not going to happen to you.

But that’s the weirdest thing Shoko’s ever said to you, and you can’t let it slide. “I don’t want to date the swans.”

“I’m not saying you want to date the swans,” Shoko says, laughing. “Just that I’ve never seen you get out of bed at six am to go hiking for anything else.”

You laugh, too, but the thought tugs at you for the rest of the day, until you’re getting ready for bed and it becomes crystal-clear. You change out of your day clothes and into your pajamas, and like you have been every day for the past two and a half weeks, you’re confronted with the question of whether to take off Spooky’s feather, which you’ve been wearing on a leather cord around your neck. It’s a harder question than you want it to be.

At first, you had plans for the feather – using it to make impressions on pottery, or turning it into a quill of some kind and using it to draw. But when you thought about doing anything to change it, it felt wrong. Then you decided just to keep it, to use as inspiration, and left it on your desk in your room. Then on your bedside table. And then, because you kept thinking about it while you were away, you secured it on a cord and started wearing it wherever you go.

Flight feathers are big. Even on a short cord, the feather rests along your sternum, close to your heart. You feel better knowing exactly where it is, but you feel worse for worrying about it so much at the same time. And you have a bad feeling that it’s got something to do with your increasingly weird dreams. They’re not quite nightmares, but they blur the lines. No matter where you are in the dream, you feel uneasy, unsafe. You’re always looking for the swans, but you can never find them. All you can find are shapes in the mist. Human shapes. They never turn to look at you but one of them, and you always wake up before you can see their face.

You can’t prove a connection between the two things. But when you sleep with Spooky’s feather on, you dream. When you leave it on your nightstand, you don’t. And when you sleep with it off, you find yourself awake in the middle of the night, checking to see if it’s still there.

You’ve never come up to the lake at night before, but you follow the path you’ve become familiar with, sit down on the rock you always sit, and you don’t flinch when someone settles in beside you. Some of the swans sit near you now – Spinner, usually, if you’re in the sun, and sometimes Needles – but Spooky’s never come closer to you than he did the day he gave you the feather. The feather that you don’t take off. The feather that seems to pulse with a second heartbeat, alongside your own.

You glance sideways at the swan next to you, not entirely surprised to find Spooky. He has one clipped wing unfolded and he’s yanking at his feathers again. This time, with none of the others here to stop you, you shoo him away. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself. Let me see.”

Spooky takes a halfhearted snap at you, but ultimately he lets you nudge his beak away and inspect his wing more directly. He was pulling at different spots, but your attention’s drawn to the missing flight feather, which you’re wearing. “You didn’t have to give me this. I didn’t want you to hurt your wing.”

Doesn’t matter. Spooky’s voice dry and raspy, rough in the same way his hissing is. You’ve never heard what his call sounds like, and you can’t tell whether you’re imagining it or not. I couldn’t fly even if I had it. It’s better with you.

You’re conscious, again, of the feather against your sternum, and questions flutter against your lips. What are you and the others? Why did you give me this? What do you want? None of them are the one you ask. “What happened?”

You already know. Spooky’s red eyes are locked on yours, refusing to let you off the hook when you shake your head, insist out loud that you don’t. You already know. What are you going to do?

You look hopelessly at him, and a cold wind whisks across the lake. It smells like old earth and dark stone, making you shiver and making your skin crawl, but what it does to Spooky is worse. He flinches, fluffing out his feathers. His body rattles, his neck curving at an odd angle – and then, before your eyes, something about him begins to change.

Before you can see what it is, before you can even come close to processing it, the sound of laughter snaps through the dream, and you come back to awareness all at once. You aren’t at the lake. You aren’t so crazy that you’re talking to a swan. You’re in the studio, at school, and the laughter belongs to your roommate. You and your roommate and your weird classmate reserved a studio, and you’ve been here all night. How long have you been sitting like this? The crick in your neck says it’s been a while, and the weird taste in your mouth says it’s been longer since you drank water or ate anything. You straighten up, get to your feet, and then go to check on Shoko and Kai. Maybe they’ve had better luck than you did.

They’re sitting together on the floor, much closer than you’d have expected to find them, and for a second, you’re not sure what you’re seeing. Once you figure it out, you still can’t believe it. “What are you doing?”

Kai swears and drops the palette he’s holding. Luckily it lands face-up. “Kai thought the textures might look better on a person than a canvas,” Shoko says brightly. “I’m helping.”

Unlike Shoko, who looks pretty comfortable with the fact that she’s sitting there in her bra with her arm and shoulder painted to look like the skin of a banana slug, Kai looks like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “How does it look?” he asks.

“I mean, it looks good –” You just can’t work out what happened. “Is this what you guys were doing while I was out? Paint me like one of your French slugs?”

Shoko laughs so hard she cries. Kai doesn’t get the joke. “It’s her turn to paint me next,” he says. You were talking to a swan in your dreams; your roommate was having some weird tripped-out body-painting fantasy. Just your luck. “What did you do?”

“I made some stuff early on, but I think I got off-track.” You spent some time at the pottery wheel, making seven swan-inspired nested vessels, and you know that adding them to your exhibition will give the professor one less thing to critique you on. You look down at your hands, expecting to still be clutching an unused paintbrush, and find your hands empty and covered in red. “Oh my God –”

“It’s paint,” Kai says. He glances back at the corner where you were working. “You must have made something.”

“Yeah, a mess.” You watch as Kai helps Shoko up, careful to leave her painted arm exposed, and the two of them head for your workspace. “Guys, don’t. There’s not going to be anything worth looking at.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Then a few seconds more. “False modesty doesn’t suit anyone, least of all you,” Kai says – then makes an odd, winded sound as Shoko smacks him. “Come explain yourself.”

Your hands are so covered in drying paint that you can barely move your fingers. You draw up alongside Kai and Shoko and stare in shock. There’s not a mess on the floor. There’s a canvas, half-covered with a drop cloth, and it’s not even close to being the only piece crowded around your easel. There are at least half a dozen others, all finished. You blink the rest of the daydream out of your eyes and study all of them, feeling more hopeless with every passing second. “They’re all wrong.”

You painted the swans, sure. It’s clear where your inspiration came from. But every piece you’ve painted has something human about it, subtle enough that only you could catch it or so obvious that it can be seen from the moon. You might be able to lie about the portrait of Gorgeous on her favorite rock, but if the professor looks closer he’ll be able to see the suggestion of a woman, her curves outlined with careful shading and hidden beneath a swan’s feathers. The watercolor of Spinner’s wet footprints on the stone would be fine if the footprints weren’t obviously starting to morph into human ones. You’ve got no excuse for the close-up black-background oil painting of Needles’s beak, open to bite – and full of human teeth. That thing’s going to give people nightmares.

And it keeps getting worse. Everywhere you look, you see clipped wings, skeletal flight feathers, and in Sneaky’s portrait you haven’t even been subtle about the outline of a human hand within the wing. Sooty’s painting doesn’t have any creepy human elements, but you can feel fury leaking through it, so much that Kai, who’s been enthusiastically examining the tooth painting, recoils slightly when Shoko holds it up for him to examine. “Don’t use that one. It’s unsettling.”

“It’s about the only one I can use,” you say miserably. “It’s the only one that’s just a swan.”

“Hang on. What are these?” Shoko is sorting through yet another stack of canvases. Her eyes widen. “I don’t care if these look human. You have to use them.”

You know even before you look at the first one that it’ll be of Spooky, and it is – focused tightly on his head, his red eyes as the centerpiece. Except his eyes are human, with eyelids and lashes that fade into his feathers, and they’re boring right through the painting into your soul. It gets worse with every painting. No matter your medium, no matter the size of the canvas or the style you’re experimenting with, you’re seeing things that aren’t there.

Human hands caged inside ruined wings. A human body straining to run, caught within a swan’s awkward frame. A swan afloat on the lake, a human drowning beneath the surface – and then one that’s barely a swan at all. Nothing more than a man crouched at the water’s edge, wrapped in a cloak of white feathers, his hair so long and white that you can’t tell whether it ends and the feathers begin.

“This is surreal,” Kai remarks. “I didn’t know you were exploring that style.”

“I wasn’t exploring anything. I don’t remember making this.” You don’t remember making any of it, really. When you claw through your memories of the last few hours, you find yourself setting up canvases, squeezing paint onto palettes, switching out your brushes over and over again, but never sitting down and making a choice about what to paint. You look down at your hands and cringe again. “I don’t even know what I was doing with all this red.”

“Fingerpainting.”

“Says the guy who’s painting my roommate like one of his French slugs.” You ignore Shoko’s laughter and study the covered canvas. Unless you were sitting here drinking red paint with your hands, that’s the only place you could have used it. You steel yourself and pull down the drop cloth. “Oh.”

Your hands might be red, but the canvas is black. The scene hasn’t been painted on it – it’s been carved, and you can see red underneath it. You covered this whole canvas in red, painted black over it once it dried, and then etched into it like you were doing sgraffito on a piece of pottery. It would be a really cool effect if you’d drawn a swan. Instead you drew a man on his knees, his back to the viewer, his arms wrapped around himself. He’s clawing at his shoulders, and you can see his shoulder blades erupting through his skin, feathers already sprouting along their edges.

It’s the same man from the last painting you looked at, but while he’s the first thing the viewer’s eye goes to, he’s not the focal point of the piece. The focal point is the enormous, disembodied hand, emerging out of the darkness and poised to come down on him. “That looks like a nightmare,” Kai says after a long, horrible silence.

It is one. Yours. “Maybe don’t use that one,” Shoko says, and you nod. “Everybody awake?”

Awake enough to know you’re screwed. You nod again, and so does Kai. “I’m hungry,” Shoko says. “Let’s eat – and then I’m making you an anemone.”

She’s pointing at you. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, but Kai’s idea looks like fun and I want to try it,” she says. You start to suggest that she should paint Kai instead and she cuts you off. “You’re going to paint Kai. Make him a swan.”

“Why not?” You’re already dead in the water. You might as well seal the deal. “Let’s do it.”

“This is an impressive achievement,” the professor is saying to Kai, and as much as you hate to admit it when you know a blistering critique’s headed your way, he’s right. “You’ve increased the diversity of your exhibition significantly. Focusing on texture rather than milieu seems to have inspired you.”

“Yes,” Kai says after a moment, “it has.”

You’re pretty sure that Kai was less inspired by the texture of slugs and more by the texture of your roommate’s skin, but you’re not going to argue that the stuff he made during last night’s sleep-deprived art spree isn’t good. Shoko got a standout review for her pieces, too, and both she and Kai got better critiques than the professor’s usual favorites. Keigo and Mirio still look a little shell-shocked. You’d feel bad for them if they hadn’t been so smug about it until now – and if you weren’t about to get your ass publicly kicked, too.

Kai sits down with full marks for the week, and then it’s your turn to present your work. You came up with a grand total of two usable pieces, plus your nesting vessels, and although the professor has positive things to say about the vessels, you know you’re in for it when it comes to the paintings. Ultimately, you could only really present the paintings of Sooty and Gorgeous. The others are too surreal, or too far off the subject. Seven vessels, two paintings. There’s no way you’re getting out of this in one piece.

The professor studies your paintings. “You’ve captured the spirits of your subjects quite effectively in these, and you’ve used the features of the setting to draw attention to your subjects, not to obscure them. That’s certainly an improvement from your first paintings.”

It is, but none of what he’s just said is a compliment, and you and he both know it. He’s quiet for a moment. “I rather expected more pieces, given the quantity of art supplies you apparently consumed during your overnight in the studio.”

He didn’t make Kai and Shoko justify their art supply usage. You grit your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Uh, professor?” Shoko raises her hand halfway, and the professor turns to look at her. “She’s got more pieces. A lot more. She made more stuff than me and Kai combined.”

“Is that so?” The professor turns back to you, and you stop trying to shush Shoko in a hurry. “Where are the other pieces?”

“In storage,” you say. “They weren’t appropriate for the exhibition.”

“Did they feature swans?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Kai says, ignoring you when you glare at him. “Swans were prominently featured in almost all of them.”

“Then I will be the judge of whether your pieces are appropriate,” the professor says. He gestures at you. “Bring them out.”

You have to make two trips, even with Kai’s help and Shoko’s – and Keigo’s, for some reason. With the too-human set of paintings added in, your output for the studio lock-in is truly absurd, and the professor goes through your canvases one at a time. He doesn’t ask you to explain anything. He doesn’t question why so many of the paintings have suggestions or outright sledgehammer blows of humanity embedded in them. His expression doesn’t start to change until you start lifting the series on Spooky into view. When you reveal the first painting, the one of Spooky’s head with human eyes, he nods. By the time you uncover the second-to-last canvas, the one where Spooky’s more human than swan, your professor is beaming.

“Marvelous,” he says. “Simply marvelous.”

“Sir?” you ask, bewildered. “I don’t understand. I made them too human –”

“Which proves to me that you’ve gained an understanding of them,” your professor says. “Do you remember when you were first assigned swans as your subject? You regarded them with fear and wished to keep them at a distance. These pieces suggest to me that you’ve found ways to connect to your subject on a deeper level, enough to imagine personhood within them.”

Enough to hallucinate personhood within them. You can imagine it perfectly fine on your own, but you would never have put it into an art piece if you hadn’t been in some kind of weird trance last night. “This new understanding of your subjects combined with your technique make this a very impressive body of work,” your professor concludes. “Congratulations, my dear. Consider yourself well in the running.”

He didn’t say that to Shoko or Kai. You’ve never heard him mention the prize to anybody else during a critique. You collect your pieces and sit down again, and when the professor turns the class loose to use the remainder of the workshop time on refining pieces or adjusting based on critiques, several of your classmates come up to you. Keigo’s one of them. “These are amazing,” he says to you earnestly, grinning. “I had no idea you could do stuff like this. I guess I should have been keeping a closer eye on you.”

“Maybe,” you say, and shrug. Spooky’s feather flutters against your breastbone beneath your shirt. “I had to catch a good critique at some point, right?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Keigo leans closer, close enough for you to smell smoke. “Either way, it’s definitely overdue.”

You’d feel more like that if you’d done this on purpose. Any of it. You know it’s your work. When you look at it, you can see your fingerprints on each piece, identify every place when conventional wisdom pointed in one direction and you went the other way. By now, your memory of making them came back completely, except for the most important part of it: Where you got the idea. All you have to go on is the vision or nightmare or whatever it was where you talked to Spooky at the lake. And whatever started to happen to him when the wind came through.

“Oh, come on,” you complain. Needles looks up at you, unrepentant. “Did you have to do that?”

Needles rustles her wings. You could swear she looks smug, but for the life of you, you can’t figure out why she’d be proud of knocking over your water bottle on purpose. And you have a rule about when you leave the lake, one you had to institute to make sure you’re not hiking through the forest in the dark. “I have to go home now. You know that, right?”

Needles honks at you. She looks towards the lake, then towards your water bottle, then back towards the lake. You’ve given up on pretending that the swans can’t communicate with you somehow. “I’m not drinking that. You guys use the lake as a bathroom.”

Needles honks again. This time she sounds offended, and when you try to pick up your water bottle, she takes a snap at your fingers. You don’t want to leave without your water bottle, and you don’t actually want to leave, period. You peer into your backpack, hoping for a spare water bottle. You don’t have one, but you’ve got a box of water purification tablets that Shoko gave you. Those would work, right? You nod and reach for your water bottle again. This time, Needles lets you have it.

While you wait for the tablets to dissolve in the water bottle, you go back to sketching. All the swans have been sticking close today, and you’ve had a chance to draw all of them, Spooky included. Spooky’s sitting still, almost close enough to touch, changing positions every so often, like he knows how long it takes for you to finish a preliminary sketch. As a trade-off for acknowledging that the swans aren’t normal, you’ve forced yourself to stop drawing them like people. There’s something about Spooky’s awkward grace that compels you, whether you’re imagining humanity in your sketches of him or not.

Lake water plus water purification tablets doesn’t taste that bad, as it turns out, and the sun is bright enough today that you’ve started feeling warm. You can feel yourself descending into a trance, sort of like the one you fell into during the studio lock-in, and you keep snapping yourself awake. You see enough weird stuff in your dreams as it is. You don’t want it translating into your sketchbook. Besides, you’d rather draw Spooky the way he is than get all fanciful with it. All of this is weird enough without believing that there might be –

A sudden wash of cold startles you. Startles you awake. You look down at your sketchbook in horror and realize that you’ve been drawing on the cardboard back panel of it for who knows how long. The panel is covered in what you can only describe as doodles – hands, eyes, feet, feathers, overlapping into an almost-incomprehensible mass. How much of your sketchbook did you ruin to get here?

You flip back through the pages, relieved to note that at least some of the drawings are potentially useful. But you’re having to squint to see them clearly. At first you wonder if it’s just residual sleepiness. Then you realize that it’s getting dark.

It’s not just getting dark. It is dark. The last shreds of light are disappearing behind the mountains, and even if you get up right now and run the whole way back to the road, you’ll still be biking home in the dark. Can you even make it through the woods before night actually falls? You grab for your backpack, try to get to your feet, but your hands hit feathers. The swans have you surrounded. There’s nowhere you can put your hands that you won’t be putting weight on somebody’s wings.

They’ve never gotten this close to you before. What are they doing? “Guys, please move,” you say. They stir, feathers rustling, but none of them move. “I have to get home. If I can’t get through the woods before the sun goes down –”

Then what? You don’t know, but the feeling of foreboding that settles over you makes your skin crawl. Rather than moving away, the swans pack themselves in even more tightly around you, Gorgeous and Silly pressed against your back, Sneaky and Spinner and Sooty hemming you in on either side, Needles in front of you to cut off your escape from that direction. And Spooky – Spooky was sitting in front of you, until you closed your sketchbook. Now he gets up, closes the distance between the two of you, and climbs up into your lap.

Your face turns bright red for reasons beyond your comprehension, and your efforts to get up fall apart as your desperation to get Spooky off of you takes precedence. You’ve been thinking a lot about swans – way more than you ever wanted to – but none of it’s ever extended to physically handling them. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you say. Spooky makes eye contact, like he can hear you, like he can understand – and then he settles in. “Hey. No. Come on –”

What are you going to do?

He hasn’t spoken. He can’t talk, because he’s a swan, and it’s only a memory echoing through your head. A memory of a hallucination or a dream, something not real, not real, not real. It can’t be real. You shouldn’t have drunk the lake water. Now you’re going out of your mind for good, and as you struggle to deal with Spooky, the last rays of light vanish, plunging the lake into darkness.

It’s silent for a moment, everything still. And then, just like in your dream, an icy wind stirs up, tearing across the lake. Old earth, dark stone, the kind of chill that settles into your bones and refuses to leave. It’s strong enough to sting your skin, more than strong enough to ruffle the swans’ feathers. But something’s happening to the swans as the wind whips around all of you, forming a vortex with the eight of you at its center. Something awful.

You hear huffs of breath as air leaves their lungs, dry-twig snaps as bones break and bodies deform, the hideous sound of living creatures being reshaped before your eyes. You’ve captured some of this in your sketches, you realize with a surge of horror – but seeing the whole process together, beginning to end, is nightmarish. You’ll never be able to un-see it. And because Spooky is in your lap, you can feel it, too.

As their mouths transform, you hear pained grunts, whimpers of agony as teeth sprout from gums and jaws re-hinge themselves. Feathers retreat back into the skin and feet slough their webbing before splitting and reforming, revealing ankles, insteps, toes. Spooky, somehow still sprawled across your lap, jerks and shudders like he’s having a seizure, his back arching as his spine elongates. The wind picks up even further, full of ice and dirt and grit, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t want to see any more. Hearing and feeling it is bad enough.

The wind dies away as suddenly as it appeared, and everything goes still around you. Still, and quiet, save for the ragged breathing of the seven people sprawled across the rocks with you, all of them naked. Including the one who’s still in your lap. You open your eyes and look down into Spooky’s face. Spooky, who’s human now, white-haired and red-eyed, terrifyingly familiar. You know his face. It’s the one you’ve been drawing, any time you sketch a swan with a little too much humanity.

You recoil as far as you can go, shoving him out of your lap and falling backwards onto Silly and Gorgeous. Gorgeous huffs as air leaves her lungs, but Silly starts protesting. “Be careful! My ribs just got back where they’re supposed to go. Don’t ruin them again!”

“Forget your ribs, what about my hand?” Sooty yanks his hand from beneath yours. You hadn’t noticed he was there. His hand is scarred. Burned. “I told you this was a bad idea. And you – we told you not to sit in her lap –”

Spooky scowls, struggling to pick himself up off the rock. “We told you,” Needles agrees. You were right about her – she looks younger than the rest of them, and she’s a girl. “Women don’t like naked men in their laps.”

“Not strange naked men, at least.” Sneaky’s keeping a respectful distance while he goes through your backpack. The only other one who’s reacting normally to being naked is Spinner, who’s hunched over and facing away from you. “That assault on your dignity is exactly what you deserved.”

Spooky’s scowl deepens. Even in the moonlight, you can see a flush coming up on his pale face, spreading down along the column of his throat to his chest. “We aren’t strangers.”

His voice is the same as the one you heard in your dream – dry, raspy, quiet. You must be losing your mind. “I’m never drinking lake water again.”

“We didn’t want to make you drink it,” Spinner says. “But you had to stay. You had to see. And it only happens at night.”

“I’m cold,” Silly whines. “Can we go inside yet?”

Inside where? “I need to go home.”

“You can’t,” Gorgeous says immediately. “The woods aren’t safe at night. The beast is out there.”

“The beast?” you repeat, incredulous. “What’s the beast?”

“You don’t have to worry about the beast if it’s daylight or you’re past the edge of the trees,” Spinner says. “You’re safe here.”

“But it is cold,” Sneaky agrees. “Perhaps we should move this party elsewhere. I believe you asked at one point where we spend the night?”

You did. You were mainly talking to yourself, because you thought they were swans, and swans don’t talk. “What are you guys?”

“We’ll explain inside,” Needles says. She hops up, and you avert your eyes in a hurry. She makes an impatient sound. “Take my hands and I’ll show you. You can leave your backpack here so it won’t get wet –”

“And you should take your clothes off,” Sooty suggests, getting to his feet. The burns aren’t restricted just to his hands. His hair is white, like most of his plumage as a swan, but you can see where his char markings must have come from. “It’ll be easier that way.”

“Uh, no.” You get to your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m not taking my clothes off. I don’t even know what you –”

“There’s a cave we stay in at night. It has hot springs, so it’s warm. We can only get to it by water.” Spooky’s also picking himself up. He keeps his back to you. “Keep your clothes on if you want.”

“Usually, we’re inside before the sun goes down,” Gorgeous explains. “Rest assured, we’ll be just as cold as you are.”

This is insane. Everything about this is insane. You’re surrounded by naked people who used to be swans, and now they want you to go skinny-dipping in a mostly-frozen lake with them on the promise that there’s somewhere warmer on the other side. Except – you don’t have the equipment to spend the night out here. You don’t know if there really is a beast in the woods, but you do know you don’t want to find out. If you’re stuck here overnight and the swans have somewhere warm to stay, you need to take them up on it. And you don’t want to spend all night in wet clothes.

You keep your bra and underwear on, just so you won’t lose your entire mind, and you follow Needles, Silly, and Sneaky as they lead the way into the water. The first few steps down into the water are painful, but by the time you’re submerged up to your chest, it’s impossible to hold your breath. Or even to move. The cold is that intense and paralyzing. If you have to submerge all the way, you’ll drown.

“Here!” Spinner’s teeth are chattering, but he’s moving through the water better than you are. He gets in front of you and holds out his hands for yours. “Follow me. I’ll help. It’s not far.”

You put your hands in Spinner’s and follow him, putting all your focus into putting one foot in front of the other as the muscles in your legs cramp and lock into place. “Get it together,” Sooty mumbles off to your right, and you glance at him. “Not you. You.”

You don’t know who he’s talking to, but a moment later, Spinner lets go of your hands, and Spooky takes his place. You were pretty bad at coping with Spooky as a swan. Coping with Spooky as a human is a lot harder. His hair is white, like Sooty’s, but his is long, so long that the ends are already trailing through the water. That doesn’t surprise you. That’s the way you drew him, after all. It occurs to you all at once that you didn’t leave his feather on shore with your backpack and your clothes and your shoes. It’s still around your neck on its cord, floating ahead of you in the water.

“Pay attention,” Spooky says, and you realize you’ve been looking everywhere but at his face. “You’ve been looking at us for months now. It should be easier now that you know who we really are.”

“I don’t know who you really are,” you say. Maintaining eye contact, looking into his crimson eyes, feels like a lot right now. You focus your gaze lower, somewhere between his nose and his chin. “I only know the nicknames I gave you.”

“We like those,” Gorgeous says from somewhere behind you. Her teeth are chattering, too. “Most of us do, anyway. You even got Spinner’s right.”

“Wait, really?” That thought is enough to temporarily distract you from the cold, and the brittle grip Spooky has on your hands. “You really go by Spinner?”

Spinner nods. Meanwhile, Spooky is leading you around an outcropping in the rocks, and the water’s almost up to your chin. You tip your head upwards to keep it out of your mouth. Needles’s voice issues from around the other side of the outcropping, echoing strangely. “We don’t pee in the lake,” she says. “We go up on the bank. We’re not gross.”

“Sorry.” You’re so cold you can barely think. “It’s not you. I don’t want to drink this stuff again if it hypnotizes me.”

“It only does what we want it to,” Sneaky says.

“What he wants it to,” Spinner corrects. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

You reach the other side of the outcropping, and see what’s behind it – a cave, tucked between the rocks. The last stretch of water you cross is the coldest, and the deepest, too. You have to swim, your limbs shot through with pins and needles, the lake’s frozen depths sucking at you from below. But then you’re through, passing through the dark maw of the cave underwater with your eyes shut and coming up at the edge of a small, pebbly shore. When you drag yourself out of the water, the air that puffs against your skin is warm.

The cave isn’t dark. There’s bioluminescent moss and fungi growing here and there, and while it’s still dim, you’re able to see well enough to make your way up from the shore to the hot springs. The swans are gathering by the largest of the pools, stepping in one by one, and you join them. All at once the weirdness of the entire situation overwhelms you. It’s seven naked people and you in your bra and underwear, all hanging out in a hot spring in a cave, and those people were swans half an hour ago. “So, um – are you swans who turn into humans, or humans who turn into swans?”

“Yes,” Silly says promptly. “No.”

“We were humans to start with,” Sooty says, annoyed. “Now we turn into swans every morning, and we go back to being human at night.”

“Okay,” you say. “Why?”

It’s quiet for a moment. The other swans are looking at Spooky, so you look at Spooky, too. He’s facing away from the others, head ducked, shoulders hunched. You’d thought the swans were all equal at first, that none of them was in charge, but in spite of the way they were picking on Spooky earlier, they’re all looking to him now. Spooky doesn’t stir. “We’re under a curse,” he says. “It’s my fault.”

Silly punches him in the arm. So does Needles. “You didn’t curse us, Spooky-kun.”

“I didn’t stop it. And don’t call me that. You know my name.” Spooky lifts his head to glare at her, then drops it back down again. His arms are folded on the shore, his head pillowed on them. “My teacher put a curse on them, and I couldn’t stop him. I can’t break it, either. It’s my fault.”

You try to decide if you believe in magic now. If you believe in curses. You’re not sure if you have a choice. There’s no scientific explanation for people turning into swans. “How long have you been like this?”

“A long time,” Spooky says, and your heart sinks. “Someone else explain. I don’t want to.”

“Me! I’ll do it!”

“No,” Sooty says. “I’ll do it. You all can’t explain worth shit.”

Silly scowls. Needles pouts. Spinner and Sneaky and Gorgeous just look tired, and something occurs to you. “How many times have you tried to explain?”

They don’t answer. You sort of knew they wouldn’t, but it was worth a try. Sooty leans back against the side of the pool, his arms crossed over his chest. “Magic exists,” he says. “No one believes in it anymore, but it existed then, and it exists now. Most of us studied under a traveling sorcerer, until he was imprisoned. With him gone, we went looking for a new teacher. Some of us can sense sources of magic. We went looking for a powerful source, and we wound up here with Shigaraki.”

“Shigaraki?” you repeat. Sooty points at Spooky, who doesn’t stir. “Okay. You came here and found Shigaraki. What happened next?”

You learn the swans’ real names slowly as Spooky tells the story. You already knew Spinner’s, but you match names to nicknames – Magne to Gorgeous, Atsuhiro to Sneaky, Jin to Silly and Himiko to Needles. Sooty doesn’t share his own name for a while, and when he does, it strikes you as just as much of a nickname as Sooty is. Not that it matters. Whatever his name is, the story he’s telling is unreal. Unbelievable. Or it would be, if you hadn’t seen the swans transform for yourselves.

When the others came to the old estate and met Shigaraki, they met his teacher, too. They knew his teacher was cruel, but he was kind to them, so they didn’t care. They learned from him, but they befriended Shigaraki, and Shigaraki told them that his teacher was worse than cruel – that he was stealing Shigaraki’s magic to bolster his own, and he’d do the same to them if they stayed. Shigaraki told them to run. They wouldn’t leave unless he agreed to run, too.

“We tried,” Spinner says. Sooty, or Dabi, got bored a while ago and demanded that somebody else finish the story. You didn’t see where he went after he left the hot springs. “He caught us. He said that if we’d left Shigaraki, he would have let us go, but since we tried to take him with us, he’d make sure we stayed together forever. And that was when he put us under the curse.”

“That was almost a hundred years ago,” Magne says, and your jaw drops. “He returns to clip our wings, so we can’t leave.”

“We can’t use magic in our swan forms, so we can’t stop him. He always comes during the day,” Atsuhiro says. “And if we were to try to leave at night –”

“The beast,” Jin says, and shivers in spite of the warm water. “It won’t let us go.”

“The only way we can get out is if the curse is broken,” Magne says. “He gave us a hundred years to try. After that –”

“We won’t turn into people at night anymore,” Spinner says. “We’ll be swans forever, and we’ll forget we were ever people to start with. We have to break the curse –”

“And you’re almost out of time,” you guess. “If it happened almost a hundred years ago –”

“We have until spring,” Dabi says as he walks by, headed for the water’s edge. “Then it’s over.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Himiko says, speaking up for the first time in a while. She sits forward, her amber eyes bright. “We can break the curse. You can help us do it. You will, won’t you? You like us. You want to help us.”

You do. Ever since you saw Spooky’s – Shigaraki’s – clipped wing, you’ve worried about them, wanted to help them, wondered if there was something you could do. “I want to help,” you say, and Himiko beams at you. You remember your painting of her beak, full of human teeth, and shiver. “What do I have to do?”

“You can’t.” Shigaraki hasn’t spoken since he ordered someone else to tell the story. He still won’t look up. “We’ve tried before. People find their way here, and we get our hopes up, and it never works. It won’t work with you, either.”

“You don’t know that,” you say. Shigaraki scoffs. “You don’t. Why don’t you tell me what it is, and then I’ll tell you if I can do it or not.”

Shigaraki won’t answer, and Himiko fills in. Her smile has an anxious cast this time. “You just have to love one of us,” she says. “And you have to be true until spring.”

You sit there for a moment, nonplussed. “That’s it?” you ask, and the swans give you identical strange looks. “I don’t have to go on a quest or anything?”

“You don’t even have to love one of us,” Spinner says. “Just promise to be faithful.”

“And it’s not ‘one of us’,” Dabi says. He climbs down into the pool again, jostling Shigaraki on the way, and somehow you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “It’s him.”

<- Chapter 1

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @shikiblessed @handumb @f3r4lfr0gg3r @boogiemansbitch @warxhammer @agente707 @stardustdreamersisi @koohiii @atspiss @minniessskii @dance-with-me-in-hell @evilcookie5 @issaortiz @deadhands69 @baking-ghoul @xeveryxstarfallx @lvtuss @cheeseonatower @lacrimae-lotos @aslutforfictionalmen

[jarinnards]

Emmrich nation hear me out:

Phantom Thread/Daniel Day-Lewis as inspo for Emmrich and/or the romance. I mean. Really. Let's be so honest.

I'm losing my mind. They look perfect. I don't imagine Emmrich would be even remotely like Woodcock as a character mind you, but... Please picture:

"Kiss me, my girl, before I'm sick."

From this.

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[doyouknowthisfemalecharavoice]

INFO AND FAQ . . .

Hey there, thanks for swinging by! This blog is a polling blog where you listen to a short clip of a female character from a random piece of media and answer based on if you recognize them or not!

Every day at around 5PM EST, 5 submissions will be posted and their polls opened. Additionally, polls from the previous week will be closed and their answers revealed.

This blog is ran with love by @spark-glow, a two-spirited femme lesbian and certified woman enthusiast. TERFS are not welcome here under any circumstances.

SUBMISSIONS ARE: OPEN

Do not use the ask box for submissions. Instead, use the form found here.

A list of past character submissions can be found here. ACTIVE TAGS . . .

#open vote : Polls that are open to voting.

#closed vote : Polls from the past that are closed now.

#polls : All polls, regardless of status.

#asks : All asks or questions.

#off topic : Anything not directly related to polls.

GENERAL FAQ . . .

Q: What can be submitted?

Official voice lines from fictional characters only. This means ONLY quotes from an official portrayal, not a fanmade work. It's recommended that you go for quotes that are as ambiguous as possible, and never ones that say the character's name or title. Try to avoid quotes that will make it super obvious what the source material is.

Avoid submitting characters who's voicelines are unclear or in 'gibberish', such as Animal Crossing characters or Okami characters. Additionally, do not submit lines that are wildly profane or abnormally loud.

Otherwise, voice lines in any language are acceptable. You may also submit lines from official dub overs! Please be sure to provide translations.

If you don't know if your character qualifies, do not be afraid to ask for clarification!

Q: Can we put the answer in tags?

I politely request you avoid doing this, as it ruins the fun of the game. If you simply must say something, then try and cipher it with rot13. Vague hints are okay, but please don't go overboard. I of course cannot control what people say, so please be wary when checking the tags or replies if you want to remain unspoiled!

Q: I'm unsure if my submission counts as a female character.

Any character that is canonically referred to as a woman or something akin to it is allowed. I'm well aware, more than most, that the experience of womanhood is varied and complicated and that some characters aren't going to slot in as cleanly as others. Just try to use your best judgement. At worst, I'll simply deny the submission if I find it doesn't fit.

Q: What happens if the same character is submitted by two people at the same time?

Both quotes from the character will be posted in the same poll in that case, rather than do two separate polls.

Q: I would like to submit a character that's already been posted. What do I do?

If it's been a considerable length of time, like... months, then you may submit the character again. Do NOT do the same voice line again, please. Try and mix it up!

Q: My submission wasn't posted.

I reserve the right to deny submission for any reason. Additionally, I may put off certain posts to make sure things stay fresh. If it hasn't been rejected, it'll be posted! Just try and stay patient.

Q: I've noticed that a transcript is wrong. What do I do?

I can only go off what I'm given, so I'm bound to make some mistakes. Don't be afraid to reach out to me if anything I post isn't correctly transcribed, sourced, or warned for! I'll get it fixed right away.

Q: Who are you?

My name's Nautica! My pronouns are it/its, and as mentioned far above, i'm a two-spirited femme lesbian. I'm in my late 20's and i'm studying zoology, paleontology, and vet medicine. Happy to be here, and glad to meet you. :)

I look like this, if you're wondering. ^

If you send me an ask telling me your favorite dinosaur, I'll tell you a fun fact about it.

[phantasmiafxndom]

Out of all the animes you’ve watch what ones are your favorites

...you know what, you get the serious answer. I used to track my anime watching, so out of the 450+ completed ones on my list, here are some of my top recommendations! (In terms of quality, more so than what I've spent the most time dwelling on.)

. . .

One Piece — I haven't technically watched all of this one, but after falling back into the fandom after an 8-ish year break, I really can't understate the quality. One Piece's story is amazing, and I'm consistently impressed by the author's characters/worldbuilding.

Dominion Tank Police (1988) — I have FEELINGS about the villain in this one... Overall, 80s sci-fi vibes mix with themes of ethical responsibility and societal peacekeeping, and the "don't you just want to go apeshit? :)" protagonist (who's also extremely aromantic-coded) is a hilarious, yet wonderfully earnest little menace!

Kyousougiga — I've been rewatching this one recently, and the sheer detail in every scene is STUNNING. I keep having to pause to mentally scream about the symbolism, and tbh, knowing the plot from my original watch is only improving the experience.

Tekkon Kinkreet — This one's a movie, not a series, but SKLJKHS IT HAUNTS ME. Absolutely chilling, by the time the big plot twists roll around... Beyond that, the overall aesthetic/vibe is impeccable, and the exaggerated, messy art style only adds to that.

Kemonozume — Monster/human forbidden romance with stunning art and a great soundtrack. The plot started out a bit confusing, but all of the scattered story elements came together nicely in the end!

The Tatami Galaxy — The "get your shit together and start enjoying your life" anime. It's plenty good as just a story, but I got some excellent life lessons out of it too. Solid mix of comedy, drama, and charismatic-yet-extremely-bizarre characters interacting.

Monster — Excellent slow-paced, psychological horror packed with ethical dilemmas, traumatic backstories, and so many Extremely Depressed Men. In other words, there's a very good reason why Johan Liebert used to end up on so many "best anime villains" lists.

Paranoia Agent — I have nothing but praise for Satoshi Kon's work, in general, and Paranoia Agent has been my favorite of the ones I've seen so far. Compared to his movies, it really benefits from the extra space for plot development, and the big emotional twist hits hard.

Revolutionary Girl Utena — A true classic. <3 There are enough tumblr essays about this tragic yuri masterpiece that I won't go into detail myself, but yes, it's every bit as good as you've heard.

Black Lagoon: Roberta's Blood Trail — The entire Black Lagoon series is excellent, but Roberta is my special girl. Unfortunately, the OAV adaption compresses the manga's version of her arc pretty heavily (and the altered ending is kind of dumb), but I still have to recommend it. Babygirl's breakdown is a REAL mess kjshghs

Claymore — Excellent pseudo-medieval fantasy with badass female characters, lots of body horror, and top-tier monster design. The manga is MUCH better than the anime after a certain point, however.

Kuuchuu Buranko — An episodic series about an eccentric psychiatrist interacting with his troubled patients. The mixed-media animation style and bizarre characters are what sold it for me, along with the exploration of mental health through storytelling tropes.

Cannon Fodder — An artistic short movie that's twenty minutes of aesthetic experience and fascinating worldbuilding implications. I love the vibe, and the "one, long horizontal frame" style is neat.

Flowers of Evil — The art style. The VIBES. The whole thing is incredibly eerie and off-putting, with a plot that's pretty much: "congrats! two shitty teenagers are tearing each other's lives apart!".

[xxbrightshadowxx]

How the hell did I learn about the 9th Amulet book through two brothers arguing in the backseat behind on a two hour plane trip from Arizona? I thought they were joking at first till I searched it up and it’s real and it’s coming out very soon. So after I learned that I decided to re-read the Amulet series up till 8 and decided to tell whoever is willing to read this my thoughts!

Clarification beforehand though, I do enjoy Amulet. It was one of my favorite pieces of media for a few years and even inspired me to create my own story similar to it. While I may come off a bit hatful and aggressive, I do like this series but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my fair share of problems with it

Books 1

So I’m going off the same rating scale that I use for movies so go check out my Trolls Band Together review to know what each rating means and just replace movie/film to with book. Anyways I give this book, 6/10. I enjoyed this book. This was the first graphic novels series I read and I was excited to know what happened next. I also loved how the robots and the robot house looked. I don’t have any problems with the first book. Primarily because it’s way too early to have any problems.

The reason why I rate it low though, is because while I enjoy it, it’s not my favorite. It didn’t do much to really impress me nor draw my attention. It did just enough to make me wanna see what happens next.

Book 2

With the second book I give it a 6.8/10 right between 6.5 and 7. Why? Well for starters I enjoyed the Elf plot line. To me, when I first read the series was much more interesting then the main one for some reason. This is the book where we meet Leon. Leon, for the most part was an interesting character. Not to mention we get some world building through him about the elf king and being a stone keeper.

Navin’s plotline, while useful to some degree, wasn’t my favorite. Of course it’s important but I was less invested than I should’ve. That might just have been a personal problem I have with Navin later in the series but we’ll get to that later.

My only problem with this is Luger. Now, Luger is a good villain and I found him intimidating when I first read the second book. I think my problem really stems from the fact that this is the only book where Luger gets to be a villain. This should be a book 3 problem but book 2 is where he is defeated.

Book 3

Book 3 was my favorite when I was younger and it still holds the place as one of my favorite amulet books in the series to this day. I give it a good 7.5/10. This book does a lot of things right in my opinion. I like the action sequences and the new information about Trellis backstory proving again that he is the most interesting character. I also found Rico and Enzo funny believe it or not. They are a fun addition to the party.

However, my problem was the robots. Miskit and Cogsly were just there most of the time. They didn’t really guide Emily like they were set up to be. I didn’t feel anything when they got captured. Which is not something you want your readers to feel when something bad happens. I also found Luger’s personality change strange. I expected him to be a bit more hostile and condescending after being defeated. Granted, you could argue it was the stone but still, it was odd.

Book 4

I have mixed feelings about this book. This is where certain problems that I have with Kazu start to show. First of all, I give this one a 7.5/10 as well. I was never sure if I should trust Max until the very end. I never understood Max. He was suspicious and I thought he had bad intentions some times and other times I thought for a moment maybe he did have good intentions for Emily.

I also like Alyson mostly because she felt much more real. She was fun and I liked her character. Leon, Rico, and Enzo have their moment, the prison break which I enjoyed reading. I also like the Elf racism while Trellis and Luger are at the prison. Granted, it’s brief but it’s to be expected and it does give some insight on what other people think about Elves. I also liked Vigo. I was glad to see another stone keeper on the good and he also came with more world building which I’m always glad to see.

However, Miskit and Cloglsy were both weak parts and I was confused about how everyone was dead and stone and Max’s agenda for a while. I had to re-read certain parts to fully grasp what was happening.

Book 5

Book 5 was a 7/10. I don’t have many thoughts. For one I am mad they split up the original party. Karen, Miskit, Cloglsy, and Leon felt like they were meant for more before they got shoved in the brook closet. Sure, Cloglsy is here with Navin but it isn’t much. I do enjoy seeing Navin and Alyson hanging out, that’s fun. Max’s backstory is sad..he tried helping his friend and her family from prison. Only for it to backfire horribly in his face and be thrown into prison for trying to be a good person. His hatred and need to revenge for his dead friend is such an interesting concept for a villain and he poses such a genuine threat and I love it.

Then there is the about the voice. I am not gonna lie, not a big fan of it. The reveal that the voice is the elf king felt odd and sort of out of place. I don’t know. I have mixed feelings about it.

Book 6

Max. Max, max, max. All I got to say is f-ck you, Kazu Kibuishi for screwing over such an interesting character. This book gets a 5.1/10. The utter and total whiplash I got when Max wanted to work with Trellis, Emily, and Vigo gave me migraines. There was no build up and it was so random. And his death, are the FUCKING kidding me. This just felt like a lazy way to write out a character. Max knew that Layra wouldn’t approve of his actions and that’s why he asked for forgiveness. Then he tried to justify with her and it’s such horse crap! No to mention, it was so fricking anticlimactic and just lazy!

I also wasn’t a big fan of Navin’s side plot. Also something reoccurring is that Emily is just there. She doesn’t push the narrative because she has no goals. She just does heroic stuff because she feels she has to. Not because she wants to. It makes her feel flat. Which is disappointing since she had potential to be great.

The reason why I don’t put this as a three is because the scene where they save the elves and Trellis announces himself to be the real king, is cool. Not to mention I liked Riva. She’s a character that had great potential. However this is not enough to save this book.

Book 7

Oh, firelight. You are the embarrassing sibling in the Amulet series. I give you 3/10. First off, one good thing I’ll say is I am glad we are continuing the theme of lost. Even if it feels weird, pacing wise. That’s it. That’s the only thing I really enjoy about this book.

First off I didn’t like Pil, Alyson, and Navin’s storyline. It was just there and it took up too much page time. Second, Gabilan. Oh, Gabilan. He was also just there. We get his backstory, he does some stuff and then he dies. He’s a plot device and while if you really think about it, everyone is a plot device, Kazu didn’t try to hide the fact that he is a plot device. Also the ending. TRELLIS. YOU ARE TELLING YOU DID EVERYTHING TO TRY AND STOP HER FROM BECOMING A BIRD! WHAT THE F—

Book 8

Where do I begin. First off, this book was a 0/10.

And now my problems. First off the si fi outer space plot like win Navin was so boring. Oh my god. I felt nothing. But that. That part was least of my concerns. My concerns was everything else. First of all, Trellis and Vigo got nerfed so easily that it annoys me. They stop the army and that’s fine, though they did it without trying. And that’s it for them. In the entire book. I have several issues with them shoving Riva, Trellis, and Vigo in the closet.

But my biggest issue is Emily and the void. First of all how the hell did she get out so easily. Was this even an issue if she just left without any problems any help. WHY DID SHE NEED NO HELP! If it was that easy to leave the void, why did it take people years to get out. What the fuck. Also what the fuck is with the future Emily bullshit?! TIME PARADOX ARE A THING KAZU. THERE IS A REASON NOT MANY PEOPLE DESL WITH TIME TRAVEL. Also who the hell is Moze’s dad?! Why does he have to her son?! Kazu, why?! You missed the mark by a landslide.

Also the elf king. WHAT. THE. FUCK. IT WAS SO FRICKING EASY TO DEFEAT HIM. JUST HAD TO TAKE OFF HIS DAMN MASK. TELL ME THIS. IF THE ELF KING WAS THAT EASY TO DEFEAT, WAS HE EVER A REAL THREAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?! NO! WE HAVE BEEN BUILDING UP TO THE ELF KING AS THR BIG BOSS SINCE BOOK 2 AND WE DEFEAT HIM IN THE MOST ANTICLIMACTIC WAS POSSIBLE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! NOW THE MAIN THREAT IS A BUNCH OF SHADOWS?! WHY?! WHY! AND IF YOU TELL ME THAT THAT ISNT WHAT BOOK 9 IS ABOUT IT STATES IN THE AMZON DESCRIPTION: “Emily finally understands the stone's power and what she must do to defend Alledia from the shadows.”

ALSO THE FACT THAT EMILY IS ALIVE SEEMS LIKE A NO BIG DEAL TO VIGO AND TRELLIS ALSO THEY JUDT LER HER LEAVE TO GO KILL A BUNCH OF SHADOWS ALONE?! ALSO OLD EMILY WAS THERE TO GIVE EMILY HER STAFF AT THE END. AGAIN, TIME PARADOXS ARE A THING KAZU.

Overall thoughts:

It’s obvious that Kazu Kibuishi wrote this story without a proper outline. What does that mean? It means Kazu didn’t know how he was going to end the story or the middle. He knew the beginning and instead of trying to figure out and plan the entire story, he wrote what he thought of right on the spot. When waverider comes out I will buy it and read it. I will also most likely rate it and write down my thoughts. Till next time though, if you actually took the time read this post and indulge in my thought process and ideas.

[heelycular-manslaughter]

I started making a game for @efangamez's May Mayhem Jam, but I wasn't able to finish it for reasons (getting distracted by other shiny projects). I figure I can make a post about some of the ideas I liked in it - I probably won't stop working on the game, but I'll probably be heavily restructuring things when I start again.

Anyway here's a shitty logo that I can't explain why I like as much as I do (image ID under the cut):

The setting is called Cereba (colloquially known as Rat City), and based on the vibe Jet Set Radio and similar media, with a slight cyberpunk twist. The player characters are Junkrats, a term for anti-establishment artists in Cereba that use recycled materials to make their art. If this sounds incongruous with the game I'm about to talk about, it's because I made the city for an earlier project and decided on a whim to revive it for the game idea I had.

One of my favorite ideas I had was for the layout; I wanted to explain the rules through a cut-and-paste-style collage of words and letters from other RPGs. This would've actually worked great for my original Junkrats project, which was already essentially a mash-up of Savage Worlds, Blades in the Dark, and Slayers (there's a reason I'm describing it in the past tense) - but this new one ended up having more original mechanics than intended. And also desperately searching for a single word in all the PDFs I own wasn't super creatively fulfilling. Also I never bother to look at copyright and I never will.

The mechanical idea I had was to make a Lumen game about the aesthetic of revolution (fighting cops, burning down corpo buildings, etc), and just kinda mix the power fantasy of games like Nova with the power fantasy of getting revenge against a violent system. I figure that Jet Set Radio is already kind of a moodboard of rebellion, so Rat City could fit that theme.

Oh my god anyway. The mechanics. Right. I decided to make the game classless, because I wanted to stay true to the theme of personal expression in my other Junkrats projects. So, each character has a Signature Item, 3 extra items, and two body mods. Items determine the actions you can take during a fight, and each one has its own list of mods that can be added during downtime by spending Scrap (a new possible resource drop alongside Health and Fuel). Body Mods essentially function as passive buffs, applying to anything defined in their descriptions, rather than being set to specific items. There's a lot of ableist baggage in cyberpunk body modification, which I'm not at all qualified to really dig into, so I won't really define much of it beyond that, until I can feel comfortable either solidifying or removing it.

During downtime, you can swap out or add mods based on (undetermined) Scrap prices. You can also turn an item into an (undetermined) amount of Scrap, and add that item's ability or action to your Signature Item. This was honestly the mechanic I like the most, since it takes the simple build-making process of Nova and gives it the personal expression theme and junker vibe I've been trying nail down ever since creating Rat City (so like. a few months.); I might come back to this in a Lumen game without combat and really try to focus on the ramshackle inventions aesthetic.

Scrap can also be used during combat for limited mods, usually the limit being how long the effect will last. This is basically an attempt to bring the idea of hammering nails into your baseball bat or pouring gas onto a weapon and lighting it on fire in the middle of a fight, reinforcing the scrappy and creative fighting style all junkrats have to learn.

[image ID: a series of letters in different fonts, cut-and-pasted from other RPGs' title pages and poorly collaged together to spell out "JUNKRAT RIOTS". The TS is actually just a backwards ST. In the bottom left corner, the phrase "ILLUMINATED by LUMEN" is pieced together in a similar way, but with all screenshots having the same font. The background is a solid bright pink color. End image ID]

The screenshots are taken from the following RPGs (in order because I want it to be): Scrapyard Junkbots, Gubat Banwa, Daisy Chainsaw, Scrapyard Junkbots again, Underground Broadcast, Nova, Bolt, Crust, Daisy Chainsaw again, Bolt again, Crust again. I can't find anything on Crust beyond a reddit post linking to a deleted itch.io page, but maybe its still out there somewhere.

[theteapotofdoom]

If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Oh, anon you have NO IDEA how happy this ask makes me, because there's probably nothing I love more on this earth than talking about the things I like!!! Nothing brings me more serotonin than sharing my favourite stories with other people!!! Let's go!!!

It's also a hard question because I just ... like things very easily. I have my favourites for sure, but there are A LOT of stories that I love and that made me who I am today. I also tend to hyper-fixate a lot so I will be completely obsessed with a piece of media for a few months and then it will go dormant for a year and then it comes back and so on ...

So with this list, I'm trying to narrow it down to the big ones, the stories that I return to the most and that had a real impact on me. It's also very hard for me to mix all the media together because I don't necessarily expect the same thing from an anime as from a movie so it's hard for me to compare them. But I'll do my best!

The list is under the cut because I'm gonna ramble a lot about all things and it's gonna be a really long post.

EDIT: Okay so I've been struggling with this list for weeks now because every few days I think of new things that I like and that I want to add to this list ... so to keep it as a top 10 and not a top 100, I've decided to not include any movie in this list, except for franchises (when the story is a continuation told through at least two or three movies). Basically, with this ranking, I focused on long-form stories.

My reasoning is that since I already have a really hard time ranking my favourite movies without including other types of media, it's easier to separate them and make another top ten of my favourite movies later down the line if anyone is interested. (Also not to sound like an insane person, but I feel like I have a completely different set of criteria for liking a stand-alone movie than for liking any other type of media so it's better this way)

1 - The Lord Of The Rings (movie trilogy) - Yes, I said no movies, but this trilogy is a mini-series to me. This one is just so deeply personal to me. I first watched the trilogy on DVD (extended edition) when I was 9 and it just blew my tiny mind and shaped my creativity for so many years. I read the books when I was a little older and I cherish them dearly, but the movies are so much more personal to me. I mean, what can I say that hasn't been said already? Everyone adores this trilogy. Just like many people all over the world, I consider these three movies comfort movies. I've watched them a thousand times and I will watch them I thousand more. No matter where I'm at in my life, I can just put on The Fellowship Of The Rings, The Two Towers or The Return Of The King and I will cry and laugh as if I'm watching them for the first time. Like ... my best friend and I were so obsessed with these movies as kids that we started calling each other Merry and Pippin and we still use the nicknames TO THIS DAY as adults. She is still saved on my phone as Merry and I'm still saved on her phone as Pippin. And it's not just the movies, it's the making of, the behind-the-scenes, the cast, just ... the pure love and optimism and dedication that went into this project ... the sheer honesty of the story ... no dark subversion, no sarcastic wink at the camera ... just love. If you haven't watched these movies yet, treat yourself! Get your hands on the extended edition, and watch it as mini mini-series rather than a proper trilogy of movies. You'll love it!

2 - Fullmetal Alchemist (manga)/Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (anime) - I'm kind of cheating here by lumping the manga and the anime together but this is a short list so I'm doing the best I can! Again, what can I say that hasn't already been said about FMA? Everyone knows it's great, everyone knows it's the best anime of all time, everyone says it ... AND YET I still feel like it's super underrated. It's not, but I can't help but feel like it is. In my humble opinion, Fullmetal Alchemist is not just the best manga/anime of all time, it's simply the best story of all time. I'm still more emotionally attached to the LOTR trilogy, but FMA is just perfect in my eyes. The themes, the characters, the story ... I had never been so satisfied by a story before and I haven't been since. Every character arc is masterfully handled, and the story doesn't shy away from insanely dark and realistic topics while still maintaining a sense of hope and optimism. The magic system is one of the best I've ever seen. The story is so layered that every time I rewatch it (which is a lot) I notice new details. The world is incredibly rich but the plot always knows how to stay focused on the things that matter and we are never lost. Every single day I'm closer and closer to starting a YouTube channel just to talk about FMA nonstop. Long live Arakawa our queen!

3 - Les Misérables (book and musical) - Okay we're getting a little more specific here. I don't know if this one is surprising or not because if you've been following me for a really long time (like ... six or seven years) then you MUST remember when I was a Les Mis blog. I wasn't creating content or anything, but I was so deeply obsessed with Les Misérabled back then, it was the only thing blogged about for two or three years I'd say. Although I don't talk about it as much these days I still love this story so deeply. I will still cry if I think about Jean Valjean for a little too long, I will go feral if I see Enjoltaire art on my dash, and I will still re-read part of the book and listen to the songs. Basically what happened is: for my 18th birthday, my parents took me to London to see the show on West End, and much like the LOTR trilogy ten years before that, it ROCKED MY WORLD AND BLEW MY MIND! I bought the live recording of the show, did a deep dive into the fandom on Tumblr and I was hooked. I even watched the 2012 movie but we don't talk about it because it wasn't great (except for George Blagden doing THE MOST of all times with the little screen time he was given and carrying the Enjoltaire ship on his back like a king). After that, I read the book and it made me love the story even more. The novel is so rich and deep and such a delight at every turn, I adore it as much as the musical. It probably sounds obvious to a lot of people since Victor Hugo is literally one of the most famous writers in the whole world but like ... the character writing in Les Misérables is beyond anything I've ever seen. I can only ever dream of writing characters as good as these.

4 - My Hero Academia (manga) - Here were are ladies and gentlemen ... the one that everyone was waiting for! I think it's fair to say that MHA is the story that most people associate this blog with. I'm specifically talking about the manga here because although I still have a lot of fondness and affection for the anime (especially the early seasons) I can't help but feel like Studio Bones dropped the ball a few times these past few years (with the way they rearranged the MVA arc, the censorship of some of the most impactful scenes, and the whole Blue Sky debacle). Besides, I wholeheartedly believe that Horikoshi is currently the most talented manga artist in the industry and his illustrations always have ten times more impact than what we get in the anime. Once again, what can I say about MHA that I haven't said already? This blog is just one big essay about MHA and Shigaraki at this point. And yet, my relationship with MHA is a lot more complicated than with the other entries on this list. I don't think that MHA is a perfect story, FAR from it. I think that there are a lot of missed opportunities and wasted developments, and it also suffers from a lot of classic shonen tropes when it comes to some of its female characters. But when it hits? It really really REALLY fucking hits. When MHA is at its worst it's just kind of mid, but when it's at its best, it's just transcendant! The MVA arc, the AFO/All Might fight, the Deku retrieval arc ... it has so many iconic moments that I will think about for years. And of course, the man, the myth, the legend: Shigaraki Motherfucking Tomura. Best fucking character of all time, a success in every single way, a tragic figure, a threatening villain, a likeable antihero to root for, a chaotic gremlin and a sexy babygirl ... the man can do it all. No matter how MHA ends, I will always be grateful for Shigaraki (and for many other great characters like Deku, All Might, Iida, Toga, Ochako and so on). MHA was also the first fandom I ever created content for and it deadass changed the trajectory of my life. So yeah :)

5 - LOST (tv show) - I feel like almost everyone on Tumblr has a special attachment to an early 2000's live-action TV show with hundreds of episodes ... LOST is mine! As I'm writing this list, I'm realising that I have a similar relationship with LOST than with MHA: I don't think that LOST is a perfect show, it dropped the ball a few times and I understand a lot of the criticism against it ... but when LOST hits IT REALLY FUCKING HITS so I will always defend it. And just like MHA, LOST has a lot of detractors who never properly watched the show and throw a lot of bad-faith criticisms at it. Like I said, I fully admit that the show has problems, but some of the complaints I hear sometimes are just ... straight up not true and very easy to debunk. This show can be messy at times, but if you get into it, it will literally stay with you forever. The plot has issues but the character writing is pretty fucking stellar 99% of the time, I can definitely nitpick about some things, but it's honestly absurd how compelling everyone in the cast is. Pretty much everyone in the main cast (of like ... 15 people!) can be your favourite character and I wouldn't be surprised. At its core, LOST is just a very human show. The story of a group of strangers forced to live together on an island after a plane crash, forming relationships, overcoming their past traumas, and slowly being wrapped in a plot that's bigger than all of them. I go crazy if I think about it for too long. One day I will make a video essay about LOST and you will all see.

6 - Les Légendaires (comics) - Are you all ready for some niche content??? Honestly, I don't even know how to properly get into this one because I highly doubt that anyone reading this even knows what Les Légendaires is (except if you're French). Les Légendaires is kind of a funny story because pretty much unknown all around the world, but it is absolutely HUGE in France, probably one of the popular young adult comic series of all time. The series has been ongoing for 20 years and has sold millions of copies. Like, I cannot stress it enough, it's an absolute juggernaut with many spin-offs and sequels and a large fanbase. From age 11 to 16 I was OBSESSED with it. It's your classical fantasy story with a group of adventurers going on many different quests and forming bonds and relationships and fighting evil, but it's so perfectly executed, that it's kind of insane. The author is very open about taking inspiration from many stories (mostly mangas and animes) that he grew up with, so it's a wonderful mix of many different styles and genres of fantasy. The five main characters all start as classical fantasy tropes, but every single one of them is developed and challenged throughout the story. Everyone gets just enough focus and attention to be a main character in its own right. Just like with LOST, every single one could be your favourite character and I wouldn't be surprised! The series also did a wonderful job growing up with its audience, the first four volumes are more whimsical and child-friendly, but the series gets darker and more mature through the years (all the way up to the "Cycle d'Anathos" arc which is SO BRUTAL but also one of favourite story arc in a comics/manga ever, it's a masterclass). I kind of grew out of it now (mostly because the main story is over and we are now in spin-offs and sequels territory) but I still casually keep up with the evolution of the story from afar. Looking back on it, it definitely has a lot of flaws that I ignored when I was a teen, but I cannot understate the impact that it had on me growing up. I'm still very fond of it!

7 - Critical Role Campaign 2 (D&D podcast) - Honestly, I didn't think I would bring up CR in this list, but as kept thinking about the stories that had a real lasting impact on me ... The Mighty Nein saga just kept popping up in my head again and again. So here they are :) Critical Role was such a surprise for me, something that I never expected to impact me the way it did. I had heard of it, I knew what it was and that it was popular ... but when I watched the first episode of campaign 2 on a whim one afternoon (mistaking it for the first episode of campaign one, but the best mistake of my life honestly) I was just IMMEDIATELY sold and into it. I fell hard and fast for this group of chaotic friends. It's hard to compare CR2 to the other entries on this list because it's a story but also it's a D&D game with a lot of improv and impulsive player decisions, so it feels weird to compare it with like ... a fully produced anime or TV show. It's hours and hours of content, and I don't adore all of it, to be honest. But the characters? GOD the characters!!! The dynamics!!! The relationships! The developments!!! The appeal of this very very very long format is that you truly get to see the main characters evolving in a way that feels more organic than anything I've ever seen. I will think about the relationship between Caleb and Beau FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE and it's only one facet of everything that this campaign has in store. I've tried getting into Campaign 1 but it just doesn't hit the same for me (although I do love the animated series!!). Campaign 3 is also great, probably my second favourite so far, but the characters of campaign 2 all hit perfectly for me. CR2 had a HUGE impact on the way I think about characters whenever I'm writing these days and I will always be grateful for that.

8 - A Series Of Unfortunate Events (book series) - This book series will always have a special place in my heart, even if I don't talk about it as much these days. When I was a child, A Bad Begining was the first novel that I read on my own from beginning to end. No one else in my family was reading it, it was something that was my own special interest. To this day I still remember how engrossed I was in the mystery behind these books, with the secrets behind Lemony Snicket, Beatrice, VFD, The Great Unknown, and the Bombinating Beast ... it was just so thrilling to follow the Baudelaires in each new adventure while slowing realising that there was an even bigger mystery behind everything happening to them. I honestly believe that these books don't get enough credit as mystery novels for kids, each volume is its own stand-alone story with its own setting and colourful characters, while also giving the reader a new piece of the bigger puzzle. The tone was also so unique, it was funny and thrilling, but also creepy, unsettling and profoundly sad most of the time. Even beyond the terrible things that happened to the Baudelaires, there was also a deep feeling of nostalgia and melancholy in the narration and it made the reading experience unique. And of course, the playful writing style is so memorable! A full page with just the word "never", the deep black pages when it's dark all around, and sentences written twice when we're told that Klaus is so tired that he just read the same sentence twice. I loved these books as a kid and I still love them as an adult, their creativity of style and unique world-building inspire me to this day.

9 - Undertale (video game) - You know, even with all the crazy memes and fandom drama and AUs that came with it ... Undertale is such a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful story. I vividly remember every single thing I felt when I experienced it for the first time (I'm kind of cheating here because I didn't play the game first, I watched the Jacksepticeye let's play in almost one sitting, cried my eyes out, and went to buy the game and play it after that). It's such a unique yet universal story, so charming, so clever and so moving. The way it uses the most basic game mechanics as a narrative tool is honestly inspiring. It's the story that confirmed to me that, narratively, choosing kindness and compassion over violence will (almost) always be much more satisfying and compelling to me as a resolution. Like ... that scene at the end of the neutral ending when you defeat Flowey and you're given the choice to kill him or spare him? When Flowey practically begs you to kill him because he simply doesn't understand how you could possibly not do it? When you are given this choice at least five times in a row because Flowey DESPERATELY needs you to confirm his idea that in this world it's "kill or be killed"? When he just says "I don't understand" again and again when you keep sparing him? That shit is engraved in me forever. This is part of my identity. And I'm not even gonna get into the absolute masterclass that is the final fight of the Good Ending when you get to save Asriel and your friends because I will cry. Love that funky little game. Love my best boy Papyrus.

10 - Night In The Woods (video game) / Bojack Horseman (TV show) - YES I KNOW I'M CHEATING! But listen, I told myself that I would only do a top-ten and I deadass could not choose between the two, so here we are. I also figured that it would be a good duo to end on because NITW and BH actually have a lot of similarities. Depressed cartoon animals desperately trying to become better people while also hurting all their close friends ... yeah. Beyond that, NITW and BH are also very different stories with different tones, different mediums and different themes of course. NITW is a 9 hours indie game and BH is a six-season Netflix show (with therefore a lot more time to explore the issues it chooses to deal with). But both of these stories have had an incredible impact on me. And another thing that they have in common is that ... well, it's still hard for me to properly explain why they mean so much to me. I mean, it's kind of obvious in a way! These are stories about trauma, grief, depression, addiction, loneliness, growing up, moving on ... things everyone deals with at some point in their life. These two stories are acclaimed and beloved by a lot of people and I'm just one of them. As I said, I can't properly explain in what way I relate to these stories, but it's here and it's with me forever.

HERE WE ARE WE DID IT! God, there were so many other things I wanted to talk about ... Shinsekai Yori, Watchmen, Mystic River, Sherlock Holmes (the novels thank you very much), all of the Hercule Poirot stories ... and of course all the many movies that I wanted to talk about.

If you read this post all the way through, you are braver than the Marines, but also: what are your favorite stories? Feel free to share your preferences as well! :D

[fadebolt]

Oooookaaayyy, I've checked out the stream and the news, and to say that I'm pumped would be putting things quite lightly.

Of course, it was fun to see the devs talk about stuff, some lovely folks I know from the Container popping up in the museum, and the Sanshee restock (that I'm contemplating about ordering from, even though my preordered Slugpup plushies haven't even been sent out yet).

But most importantly, we have the thing that everyone's been raving about....

A new DLC centered around Nightcat!

I very much adore this for many reasons.

The wording, as well as the screenshots in the Steam post imply that we're gonna be in a completely new area, away from the long abandoned facility grounds of LttM and FP. The new regions/areas were the absolute best part of Downpour, and having a DLC that is seemingly centered around them on an even bigger level just sounds incredible (Jadzio might also have some fun polling them, too :D).

The animation of the trailer is also pretty neat. It's short, sure, but there's just something about seeing Rain World in this new style that makes me smile. Style alternating is what makes me love League's animated media so much, and I'm very happy that RW is starting to dip its toes into that too.

The naming of the new Slugcat, as well as its stationary stealth ability... dude is a Slugcat Night Elf, fair and square. This could be a coincidence, sure, but I would absolutely not be surprised if there're some Warcraft fans amongst the devs, because that's a very obvious connection that I've made pretty much immediately. And I'm not saying that as a way of criticism - because I freaking love Night Elves, not just from a story and thematic perspective, but also their gameplay in Warcraft 3 (Terror of the Tides being an incredible campaign, and Eternity's End having a bunch of awesome moments helps a ton, too).

As for how me and the rest of the fandom will handle the Watcher in headcanons and potential content going forward, well...

It's gonna be a bit tricky, for sure. I imagine the DLC will not come out for quite a while, but it'll most likely shatter all my headcanons and lore ideas to pieces, and any plans of me writing stories about Nightcat just got even more complicated now. But I don't mind this too much, as I'm confident I'll be more than capable of figuring out how to integrate the official content into my stuff, and the same applies to the rest of the fandom, too (and if all else fails, I can always pull the "Nightcat and Watcher are two entirely different characters" card, but that sounds uncreative and boring, and I wanna avoid that, even if Enot was pretty much globally accepted as a different character, despite their color, and them mentioning 'being removed from Arena').

One other positive to mention is that Nightcat X Spearmaster might actually blow up a decent bit now. And if that happens, I'll get to claim the royal title of being someone from the original Inkblot gang, which will be amazing. Plus, more content about my favorite pair, who wouldn't be happy about that?

I just hope that the fandom isn't going to get into crazy arguments/dramas over the Watcher/Nightcat stuff. Everyone is going to change their content around the new revelations differently, and that's ok. I'm probably worrying about nothing here, but I have seen folks pick bones with creators over minor harmless stuff before, so my concerns are probably valid. Let's just let everyone have fun with whatever approach they wish to take, m'kay?

That's all my thoughts regarding the new revelations for now. If this post came off as a bit mixed, then I want to clarify that I'm still absolutely excited about the new content, and I'm very glad that this forgotten scug is getting its well deserved resurgence.

Everything is gonna be great and fun, and I am very much hyped about it! (I'm already in love with all the fan content, btw. The speed at which everyone is showing appreciation is simply staggering. You guys are impressive as all hell!)

[queen-of-the-weenies]

Finally replying to all the tags I've missed out on. Thank you for thinking of me :)

I'll also do three WIPs, because I love to talk about the things I'll never fully finish

What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Whitegarden: Just finishing the damn thing ;-; I have everything planned out, from characters to plot, but the urge to actually sit and write it out continually escapes me.

Sielsi: Wrangling my original work into something less... Juvenile. The original parts I wrote were borderline plagiarized from the Inheritance Cycle, with sprinkles of Vampire Diaries mixed in there. I love the characters I made, but everything else needs a lot of work still.

The Bandit Queen's Bride: Inspiration is the biggest struggle for this one. I wrote the first handful of chapters in a blind haze, and haven't had any inspiration to keep going.

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Whitegarden: Something dramatic, like the Game of Thrones theme song. Maybe a cool map graphic to show off the map I made of the continent, and symbolism to represent the various characters and factions............... So the Game of Thrones intro.

Sielsi: Something that starts out hopeful and cheery, that slowly darkens over the course of the season(s), until its got a noticeably sinister quality. Perhaps later it brightens again, but never quite returns to the cheerful sound it was before.

The Bandit Queen's Bride: Taylor Swift, but make it bardcore.

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

This, I have no idea how to answer. I have a really poor understanding of why other fandoms are popular, so I feel zero confidence in guessing what kinds of audiences I would have from other fandoms.

What was the first part of your wip that you created?

Whitegarden: This song. The first time I heard it, I honestly didn't like it that much. Then I kept listening, and inspiration grew from there. Now it's permanently stuck in the top 20 most listened songs for me lol. I wrote up a rough draft of two children, separated in childhood because of a cursed bloodline. That rough draft is a far cry from what I've settled on by now, but it'll always hold a special place in my memories.

Sielsi: I was in middle school when I read Eragon for the first time, and I thought to myself, "I could do that, but with shapeshifters". So I did that, with shapeshifters. Wrote almost 40k words in a word document, just making it up as I went.

The Bandit Queen's Bride: Had the idea for a story and came up with a handful of characters. Spent a solid few hours trying to decide what sort of accent to get the Bandit Queen.

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Whitegarden: Most of the world is populated by animals very similar to what real life has. There are also monsters of various sorts, some more animal-like than others. My favorite is the Enochria, a shadowy beast with multiple arm-like appendages that lives in dark caves in the coldest parts of the continent. They emerge once a year at mid-autumn, then migrate south for the winter/early spring. They climb trees to find mates, then gestate their offspring for variable amounts of time until they find a suitable cave in their northern habitat. Due to magic interference from [Redacted for spoiler reasons], Enochria are moving further and further south, causing many to die from overheating, starvation, or being hunted by frightened humans.

Sielsi: There are natural animals, but nothing relevant to the story. Since half of the main cast are shapeshifters, all the animal shenanigans are their fault. Also I haven't decided if I want standard earth animals, or maybe to add some monsters too.

The Bandit Queen's Bride: There is a very good, very wonderful horse named Tore. A huge bay roan stallion who is extremely loyal to Jin, the Bandit Queen. He originally belonged to Jin's mother, and was passed to her when her mother left the gang. The rest of the bandits have their own horses, but so far, Tore is the only one with any fleshing out.

What part of your wip are you working on rn?

Whitegarden: I flip flop between making more character art and thinking of new monsters to add to the world.

Sielsi: Still struggling with how to lay out the story in a new way ;-;

The Bandit Queen's Bride: Trying to figure out all the secondary/tertiary characters

How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

The answer is the same for all three. Walking or riding horses is the most common way of travel. Those who can afford it will take carriages or ships. For Sielsi, the shapeshifters can turn into birds and fly.

What are your hopes for your wip?

I just wanna finish one of them. Please I am desperate to finish something. Anything.

WIP Questions Tag

I wasn't actually tagged by anyone, but @owlsandwich opened it up to everybody so I'm giving this a try! Open tag, but also no pressure tags to @somethingclevermahogony , @queen-of-the-weenies and @sarandipitywrites !

We're gonna do my main current WIP, God-Touched, and also a couple I've tabled for a bit due to stress, which are called Gods of Steel, and Nico after the name of the MC, respectively. I copy pasted the questions and I may have missed one or two.

What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

God-Touched: This is more of an overall writing struggle for me, but underwriting/being too concise. I tend to make unnecessary time skips when outlining and not add enough descriptive passages.

Gods of Steel: The world building. I usually enjoy complex world building, but I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this project. I'm taking it slow and building one aspect of it at a time as I'm motivated to do the necessary research, so fingers crossed that works out.

Nico: This one's kinda stupid, but keeping myself from imagining my protagonist as Nico di Angelo. She's completely different in appearance, mannerisms, etc, but I'm a rabid PJO fan and that was my first association with the name.

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

God-Touched: Definitely something by Imagine Dragons, probably Natural.

Gods of Steel: Probably some kind of epic orchestral thing, I haven't found a specific track yet.

Nico: Song Of Women by the HU and Lzzy Hale. Going purely off of sound and vibes.

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

God-Touched: Supernatural, Firefly, the King Arthur reincarnated as a space lesbian book (Once and Future) and the book Spellhacker by MK England.

Gods of Steel: This is gonna sound really presumptuous, but I'm trying to make it similar to Dune and the Na'vi Avatar movies.

Nico: Honestly, Tamora Pierce, even though my story is more sci-fi than fantasy. Also slightly the Divergent movie (haven't read the book in years), in that the MC slowly realizes just how much of a dystopia she's actually living in, even though she started out compliant.

What was the first part of your wip that you created?

God-Touched: The general concept of Christian mythology put into a queer science fantasy context.

Gods of Steel: The setting, (humanity's original non-Earth home), and some of its history.

Nico: The idea for the relationship arc between the two main characters. It was the first time I'd ever wanted to write romance, and it was an interesting challenge to come up with how that would play out.

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

God-Touched: This is a major spoiler, but the main gang ends up adopting an iridescent rainbow baby space dragon. She looks majestic, but is actually a huge derpy goof. She's heavily based on Banana, my little sister's big ginger cat who is not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box

Gods of Steel: The main villains on this story are cyborgs, but some are cyborg animals rather than people. They started out as normal robots, but then got this virus that made them grow flesh, skin and other organic parts, but many of the animal-like ones still have working blades or guns as part of their bodies that they use when hunting humans for food.

Nico: The fauna of the setting for this one is very ice age influenced, the main character has a war mammoth that she's raised from a calf to be her mount and companion.

What part of your wip are you working on rn?

God-Touched: First draft of the first two books, if all goes well it's gonna be a five book series.

Gods of Steel: World Building.

Nico: In my first stage of outlining.

How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

God-Touched: spaceships and hover bikes

Gods of Steel: spaceships, then on foot after all their tech gets infected by the cyborgs.

Nico: Mammoth-back riding.

What are your hopes for your wip?

This is the same for all of them so I'll just do one answer: A devoted fandom that uses my books as inspiration to create their own awesome content. Fanart, fanfic, animatics, those character analysis YouTube videos, anything like that.

[wonhaebunny]

From your fics, I'm sensing that Bakagou is your favorite character or at least a character that you find compelling, so what do you think about his character overall? Like what makes him compelling or a good character?

ooh, fun question! i have a lot to say about this :)

i think on a surface level, i've always gravitated towards characters who have big development arcs (typically starting from being kind of shit people or majorly lacking in some regard) as opposed to characters that start out as figuratively perfect. it just makes the plot all the more impactful for me--i tend to get bored watching the straight-cut sunshine white bread characters be constantly amazing. i find them endearing, of course, but in terms of plot they lack any significant appeal to me. this, of course, means i've essentially perpetually doomed myself to like the side character/second lead more than the protagonist in any given piece of media (lol).

beyond this, bakugou seems to subvert a lot of basic tropes, which i find somewhat refreshing. he channels the delinquent vibe while managing to be a total nerd. he acts like an asshole, while being an inherently pure-hearted individual at his core. he sucks at socialising and projects a lone wolf image, but he's loyal as hell to the friends he has. he has this strange obsession with victory, but never enough to override his moral compass. he gives off "spoiled kid who got everything handed to him" energy, but you watch him for longer than two minutes and realise that he works himself into the ground for just about everything he has.

then again on a deeper level, i find that bakugou specifically resonates with me (and, seemingly, a lot of other people) for this exact reason: he's a perfect mix of relatable and impressive. of course, you want to root for a character who's strong and alluring, but they instantly become ten times as alluring when they share your insecurities or troubles. bakugou manages to be this larger-than-life standout character who you can admire on the screen, while still emitting major "formerly-gifted kid facing the academic/otherwise pressures of their own ambition and expectations" vibe that most weebs can empathise with.

on a side note, i've been talking to my friends about this recently in passing, but i find it refreshing to see a character undergo huge and overwhelming character development without the need for, like, a tragic backstory. bkg's childhood was objectively pretty shitty, and most people who know me know my stance on it. but that being said, it wasn't, like, "constantly abused by my parents" or "my entire family was killed by a cult" level shitty. it was just... ordinary "high achiever to anxious wreck with unrealistic expectations pipeline" shitty. his parents weren't great, but they visibly love and provide for him. but despite all this, this little asshole of a middle school bully just. woke up and decided to be better. you don't see a lot of it, but the authenticity just makes his character growth more gratifying to me.

anyways. i actually have way more thoughts on this but i'm gonna get off my soapbox now since i've already dumped like. five paragraphs here. hope this shed some light on my (probably fucked-up) psyche anon! :^)

[arielxlazarus]

I almost forgot about that fanfic appreciation week, but I wanted to at least do something for it! So here's a rec list for some of my favorite fics in the one piece fandom!

This list is not at all exhaustive btw (there's still loads of other fics in the fandom that I love), so please don't feel bad if you weren't included! Also if anyone wants more recommendations from me, you can check out my bookmarks on my ao3!

Who Knows (what could happen) by Chromi

Rating: T

Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: For as long as he could remember, he had wanted to set out to sea as an adventurer. His father, unfortunately, dictated that he was to follow the family tradition and become a doctor instead.

Following a lifetime of hurt and sorrow at the hands of his family, he eventually breaks free and takes to the sea alone - determined to keep it that way. Fate has other ideas in store for him; fate crosses his path with Portgas D. Ace's, a brand new pirate.

And what does he hate more than pirates?

Nothing.

Or: from Sixis to the Moby Dick - the lives of the Spade pirates.

First Time by Chromi

Rating: E

Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: "Because it is Ace, and it will only ever be Ace, that he wants to see like this, and he wants to be responsible for unravelling him down to his core and loving him to his very center."

In which Ace and Deuce go all the way for the first time.

@chromiwrites

Seabound by AnkhPosts

Rating: T

Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Ace is a selkie, making one of his periodic stops on land to catch a breather and get some ridiculously tasty human food, maybe see some sights if there are any. His pelt is safely hidden, he'll stay a day or two at most and be on his way.

Deuce is a mer, alone on the sea and traveling as he pleases for the first time in his life, and while he might not be terribly interested in actually interacting with humans it's hard not to see them as fascinating.

Ace meets Deuce. Deuce meets Ace. Neither knows the other isn't human.

@ankhposts

Death is only the beginning by Chizyk

Rating: T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: “Ankhreshet?” he whipped his head round at the sound of a raspy voice so fast he almost got whiplash. He could feel his body going completely cold as he saw the mummy’s empty eye sockets staring right at him.

@chizyk

I'm Still Here (part of a series) by theprodigypenguin

Rating: M

Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace (also Izou/Sabo later in the series)

Summary: "When I do die, don't bother burying me in that empty grave. Put my body in a boat and set me out to sea. Let me sleep eternal on the ocean that my father loved so much; because before everything else in this world, I am a child of the sea, and when I die, I want to return to it. Put me in a boat and set it aflame so I can go down in the same fire I lived."

Forget-Me-Not Fall by theprodigypenguin

Rating: M

Pairing: Izou/Sabo

Summary: “Most of the nobles I’ve met tonight look meticulously put together. They look like they were built to portray a certain image paralleled a hundred times over. People who were copied and pasted. Flawless clothes, flawless faces, flawless makeup, flawless hair.”

“Not me though,” Sabo stated, and Izou hummed.

“It’s comforting.”

“Huh?”

Izou met Sabo’s eye. “Everyone else in this place hides their worst attributes with a mask they modified to fit their faces. They don’t seem to comprehend that those perfect masks only make their worst characteristics more pronounced and defined.” His expression was terribly gentle as his eyes wandered across Sabo’s face. “It’s comforting to be approached by someone not trying to be something else.”

Sabo tilted his head. “How do you know I’m not manipulating you like some common Goa aristocrat?”

Izou smiled. “There are a few reasons.”

@theprodigypenguin

A Light To Guide You Home by TheSkyIsMyHome

Rating: T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: In a world that despises mutants, Ace lives purely to protect his little brother.

Until the flames inside him find their perfect match and opposite, and he doesn't know what to feel anymore.

The Phoenix's Mate by TheSkyIsMyHome

Rating: E

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Marco is a handsome man. Ace really can't be blamed for being attracted to him. Nobody minds, either.

But Marco isn't always a man. Ace still loves him regardless, and his sexual urges are catching up to that fact.

Marco indulges him, but he might just find himself enjoying it more than he thought he would.

@evvazi

ASL in Red (series) by Kereea

Rating: G-T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law (both asexual), Koala/Sabo, Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Benn Beckman, Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante/Aokiji | Kuzan, Roronoa Zoro/Sanji, and several other minor ones

Summary: In an alternate universe, forces conspired to put Ace, Sabo, and Luffy in the care of the Red Hair pirates as children.

The Grand Line would never know what hit it.

Mates (part of a series) by Deubatty

Rating: E

Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Deuce just wanted to go searching for plants! A nice walk in the woods. Except, he ends up becoming the mate to a very persistent naga

His First Mate The Mermaid (part of a series) by Deubatty

Rating: T

Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Instead of finding another person on Sixis, Ace finds a mermaid

@masked-writer

Being Human by MaiKusakabe

Rating: E (no smut)

Pairing: None (heavy focus on the platonic relationships between Marco, Whitebeard, and the rest of the crew as they form)

Summary: The line that differentiates human from object appears to be clear, but sometimes it blurs to the point where it is impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.

The Unknown Devil by MaiKusakabe

Rating: E

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Ace hadn’t expected his last week of imprisonment before his execution to be any different from all the years preceding it. Then again, he hadn’t expected to have Marco the Phoenix as a cellmate for that week, or that Marco’s presence would shake his bleak world so much.

Ripple Effect by MaiKusakabe

Rating: E

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: After the incident with Shanks, Garp didn't take Luffy to Dadan's, unaware of how much that would change the life of his other grandson.

@maisstories

To Build a Home by endlessblankpages

Rating: G

Pairing: None (heavy focus on the platonic relationships between the ASL bros and the Whitebeard Pirates)

Summary: The ASL pirates are used to being accused of crimes they didn't commit. But when they're accused of destroying a small village in the New World, it sends them hurtling toward a deadly confrontation with the strongest man in the world, Whitebeard. The results are not what they were expecting.

Persistence & The Impossible (part of a series) by dragonsfall

Rating: T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: In order to keep himself from losing his job, Ace takes on an impossible story. Get an interview with the ever-elusive Phoenix. Guess he might as well kiss his job goodbye.

Self Discovery (part of a series) by dragonsfall

Rating: E

Pairing: Izou/Sabo (sort of, it's technically masturbation)

Summary: Sabo has been waiting for a day like this for a while but it doesn’t go quite how he planned it.

@clockworkpanic

A Breach of Intention by Depths

Rating: T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: It was unspoken, but some pirate crews and mermaids had an unspoken solidarity. Pirates throw their enemies overboard, and the merfolk will take care of them.

mer!ace au

@leviathiane

Running on All Sixes by lunarshores

Rating: E

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace, minor Izou/Thatch

Summary: The Whitebeard gang might be one of the most influential in the city, but to Marco they're just his family. Though he sometimes wishes they'd just leave him alone, especially when Izo's playing matchmaker, and Ace is his usual oblivious self. When a brother betrays them, they'll have to fight to show why no one ever messes with their family.

nothing is impossible with you by lunarshores

Rating: T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Five times Ace and Marco accidentally mixed their flames on accident and one time that was entirely on purpose.

@lunarshores

I Want You to Look at Me by shockandlock

Rating: E

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: One night, Marco is missing from dinner, so Ace decides to bring dinner to him. He's surprised to see Marco wearing glasses and now he can't stop thinking about the way he looks. Now with additional chapter(s) including more miscellaneous MarcoAce PWP!

To My Dear Fire (part of a series) by shockandlock

Rating: T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Living in the city is a new thing for Ace. After being raised near a cozy coastal mountain town through his childhood, it's definitely a change of pace, but it doesn't help when he loses his new job after an unfortunate encounter with actor Marco Newgate. He just wants to live-- and meet his long time pen pal, Phoenix.

Marco knows that being an actor is hard, so he takes the little things when he can: writing his pen pal (and honestly one of his best friends) Fire Fist, flirting with the cute new waiter at his favorite café-- not that he has a chance after a disaster on social media. But maybe fate really does give him a second chance when Ace shows up at Four Emperor Studios...

@shockandlock

Uncharted Territory by silverwolf_fox

Rating: E

Pairing: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: This was by far one of Ace's most ridiculous ideas.

When Deuce keeps getting flustered everytime he tries to dominate Ace, they created an opportunity where he didn't have to be afraid of messing up.

Now he's free to do and try whatever he wants...

...so long as Ace doesn't wake up.

Watching the Sunrise (part of a series) by silverwolf_fox

Rating: T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Many years have passed since Rouge gave up her life for her son’s...except she didn’t die, but she thinks Ace did. Living her life on Baterilla, she’s mourned each and every day until the morning she receives his bounty poster. She sets off immediately to find him, but finds their meeting isn’t as easy as she’d imagined.

@the-devil-fruit-tree

never shall i forget, how you climbed out of a dream by siojo

Rating: T

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: “Kaido,” Ace smirks, flames burning around his feet as he shifts in preparation for Kaido’s next attack, already trying to decide what he’s going to do in response. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You’ve seemed to have been enjoying yourself here.”

“I thought you would be smarter than this, Portgas. You’ve never tried to fight another Yonko before, your bounty won’t matter much when you lose.”

Ace barks a laugh, his teeth bared in a facsimile of a grin, “You must have missed out on the brawl I had with Big Mom after she sent two of her daughters and a son for me to consider marrying. This is a bit more personal than that.”

@wordsdrippinginink

Reborn in Fire by aerle

Rating: M

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Fireman Marco has earned the nickname 'the Phoenix' by saving numerous people from a certain death. After an accident however, he has to relearn to walk and gets a new job as arson inspector at a different fire station. There he gets confronted with a boy from his past, now all grown up and gorgeous.

Three's a Crowd, Four's a Double Date by aerle

Rating: M

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace (main), Izou/Thatch (secondary)

Summary: "We're not dating," Marco said definitively. "That we're sharing a bed tonight is a total coincidence."

@aerle

Universal Dive by EmpressKira

Rating: M

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Ace had been making his way through the city to go to one of his favorite cafes. Well, that was until this hole ripped in the sky and some pirate fell out with the flaming bird guy following. Getting targeted, he is dragged into a different world with pirates and everything defying the reality he is used to. Will he make it home? Will he go back when the time comes?

@empresskira

Blue moon (series) by de_Winter

Rating: T-M

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Urban fantasy AU, werewolf Marco and witch Ace

Red Velvet by de_Winter

Rating: E

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: Ace already knew their routine by heart, just from observing them for a couple of mornings when he had early delivery, and from Izou’s daily long winded—and probably sexually frustrated—rants. Big Blond would come out of the bakery wearing a shirt too tight for him and too thin for the weather as soon as he was done setting up the tables inside the storefront, holding a take out cup and a small box in his big hands. They looked really, pleasantly big from where Ace was standing, and he honestly wished he wasn't standing that far away.

@dee-de-winter

We'll Look Back and Laugh at Ourselves by JuHuaTai

Rating: M

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace, minor Gol D. Roger/Portgas D. Rouge

Summary: Between his new boyfriend and his workaholic boss, Marco felt like he was surrounded by family issues of the father and son dispute variety. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Or maybe he should've listened to the office gossip more. Maybe then he'd figure it out sooner.

Gratitude of the Phoenix (part of a series) by JuHuaTai

Rating: M

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: [Based on 'The Crane Wife' Folklore]

One day, he saved a bird from freezing to death in a trap. Then, a stranger saved him from suffering the same fate, and a request to stay for one night turned into having someone to fill the void left in the small cottage and in his heart ever since his brothers left.

These two incident doesn’t seem to be related to one another, but they both changed Ace’s life in ways he could never have imagined.

Watashitachi wa Roger kaizoku desu (we still stand proud) by stereden

Rating: T

Pairing: None (heavy focus on Buggy, Shanks, and Crocus)

Summary: The Roger Pirates disappeared after their Captain's death, and were happy enough to let the Marines forget about them.

Until the Marines decide to execute their Captain's son, that is.

@stereden

This Bites! by Xomniac

Rating: M

Pairing: None (heavy focus on a main character oc and the strawhat pirates)

Summary: Sea Kings, sea-sickness, sunburns, a 95% genocidal Navy and more than a million and one other assorted ways to die. It's official: Being inserted into an anime sucks ass... Buuut I guess it could be worse. I mean, look on the bright side: At least I'm sailing with the future king of the pirates.

A Fortune that Never Grows Old by imperialmint

Rating: E

Pairing: Marco the Phoenix/Portgas D. Ace

Summary: It's one thing to get butterflies in your stomach when you seen an attractive person but it's another thing entirely for Marco to want to stomp out a courtship ritual and lay foundations for a nest when he meets the navy's new (hot) secret weapon.

@imperialmint

Most of the authors on this list have many other excellent one piece fics I'd definitely suggest checking out! Enjoy your reading and try to show them all some love if you can!

[theolsentimes]

Mary-Kate Olsen's Singular Style

She came to fame as a twin, but the actress's cultish look is entirely her own. Here, with Lauren Hutton, she pays homage to another fashion inspiration, Grey Gardens. Written by Laura Brown, with photography by Peter Lindbergh (Harper's Bazaar, 2007)

VIEW GALLERY

Mary-Kate Olsen may be the only young actress who breezes into her local Starbucks wearing towering, fashion-fierce Balenciaga boots, who arrives at her latest premiere (in Mary-Kate's case, for the new season of Showtime's Weeds, in which she plays a devout Christian with a pot fetish) sporting an oversize cross, and whose favorite band is Led Zeppelin. She may, in fact, be the only young actress who knows who Led Zeppelin is. MK, as she is known to her friends and family, is also a punctual and professional sort. She arrives for a poolside tea in Los Angeles 10 minutes early, ordering a hot chocolate while explaining her fetish for all things sweet — "I'm a candy girl, like Tootsie Rolls and Swedish Fish" — and objecting when the waiter tries to take the sugar bowl away. She is wearing a nautical striped T-shirt (her mom's, from the '70s), tucked into two black Wolford slips rolled down and turned into a tight, Robert-Palmer-video-style mini, and multicolored sparkly Christian Louboutin stilettos. She's just had her hair colored, returning to a sunnier shade after some experiments with both peroxide ("I woke up one morning and was like, I want white-trash hair today") and the dark side (an auburn-haired near-Goth moment last year). She's carrying a large black fringed leather Prada tote — she doesn't do small bags — and her fingers are covered with rings, most notably two vintage coiled gold snakes stacked on top of each other. ("They remind me of twins, sort of double headed.") Altogether, the effect is less her famed "bag-lady chic" than an edgy, body-conscious, and, yes, sexy silhouette. If she weren't 21, she could be 40. And French.

Few people need reminding that Mary-Kate — with her twin sister, Ashley — literally crawled into celebrity aged nine months (courtesy of Full House) and has not been out of the spotlight ever since. She has been a celebrity for more than two decades. Perhaps that's one reason she seems as if she came out of the womb worldly, the textbook old soul. "Yeah," she says with a small shrug. "I get that a lot." With all of that attention and all of the money (her and Ashley's company, Dualstar, has famously become a "billion-dollar business"), Mary-Kate could easily have ended up the type who wears pink terry cloth and carries a variety of small dogs. "Could you imagine?" she says with the politest version of a snort. "No way." She credits her exceptionally close-knit family (she has five siblings) and, interestingly, early stardom with helping her keep her perspective. "I think it helped that I started in front of the camera, so it didn't come as a shock. If I was a teenager and was thrown into the spotlight, I don't know how I would react, to be honest." Though the tabloids are all too keen to brand her a skinny, nervous deer in the headlights, in person Mary-Kate is easy in her skin, confident and surprisingly tactile, curling up in her seat and touching you on the arm to make a point. She laments the generic style of most actresses and cites only men as style inspirations: "Heath Ledger, Johnny Depp. Men, they just dress the way they want, and they don't think about Who Wore It Best." She doesn't much care for Who Wore It Best, noting she avoids those pages by "wearing vintage so often. I just dress the way I feel instead of looking for what's the new handbag." If Mary-Kate and Ashley have their way, more people will be wearing clothes and carrying bags the way they do. They have just shown the fifth collection of their ready-to-wear line, the Row, and recently launched a contemporary label, Elizabeth and James, named after a sister and a brother. The Row's holiday collection (in stores next month) is a slick mix of skinny leather pants, razor-cut blazers, butter-soft, slouchy tees, and a destined-to-be-cultish pullover fur. Lauren Hutton, who stars in the Row's Spring '08 look book, says, "The clothes are extraordinary. A man I was with just loved them. The pieces are just so genius, soft like a baby's skin. Simple minimalist stuff, but really spectacular." Mary-Kate, designer, faces an interesting challenge. She has to marry Dualstar — which has made its fortune selling tween-tastic DVDs and pastel Mary-Kate and Ashley T-shirts at Wal-Mart — with her increasingly edgy and subversive taste. Dualstar executives, some of whom have worked with her since she was a child, often nag her, mom-style, about pulling her hair back "or wearing a color," she says with a laugh. "I had this event recently, and I was like, They're going to be so happy that I'm wearing ... purple. I actually have to think about those things, though, you know, so I don't get trashed." Get trashed sometimes she does. Hutton says, "Once in a while, she'll wear something and I'll think, Oh, baby doll, take another look. But to have the bravery, to take the chance to do that, is pretty wonderful. She is making her own way, which is hardly ever done in Hollywood." Of Mary-Kate's penchant for gigantic Balenciaga heels, Jenji Kohan, the creator of Weeds, says, laughing, "I'd be like, 'It's Tuesday. Do you really want to be wearing those shoes?' But she pulls it off." Designer Giambattista Valli, a friend, says, "She likes to take risks, but because she has such strong personal style, she always manages to make it work. Even if she had nothing on, she'd have style." And MK chic is spreading. "Sometimes I'll look at people or at a magazine and I'll do a double take because I'm like, Oh, my God, that's my outfit, but that's not me," Mary-Kate says. Playing with her wire-rimmed aviators, she jokes wryly that she should have bought shares in Ray-Ban. (She and Chloë Sevigny pretty much brought back white '80s Wayfarers.) She tends to fall in love with a look, then wear it until she's done. "If I put together a good outfit, I'll wear it for three days and then switch it up with a blazer," she says. "I still love my vintage jeans, my tights, and my pants, though." She didn't start wearing heels, in fact, until a couple of years ago: "I kept watching Ashley walk around in them so gracefully, and I'm such a klutz. But I ended up loving heels, and I don't usually take them off." She wears precisely one pair of flat shoes: Chanel's knee-high patent-leather gladiator sandals. This season, it's Balenciaga's fall collection — all of it — that has Mary-Kate obsessed. She is close to designer Nicolas Ghesquière and says, "He is so talented, but he's the nicest, most down-to-earth guy, and that makes everything he does more brilliant. I bought everything, but I haven't got anything yet," she says like a girl impatiently waiting for Christmas. Will she wear the new pieces with her infamous clodhopper boots? "Uh-huh. Wore them the other day, actually." Mary-Kate always goes with her gut, even if some people (back to those tabloids) don't quite get it. "The tabloids say things about me? What do they say?" she asks archly. "People are going to write what they want, and everyone's going to have their own idea of who I am. But I'm not trying to be friends with the people who are reading them, really." After a rough couple of years filled with near-forensic scrutiny of her weight, she'll have you know that she does eat. "This is not going to sound good," she laughs, "but I like making crispy tofu sticks with peanut sauce. I love my sashimi and my salmon and my vegetables." She observes, "Stress plays a big role in how I look day-to-day. I've always been very active — Pilates, yoga. I grew up horseback riding every day for hours. I love dancing. I usually last longer than anyone on the dance floor." A common image of Mary-Kate has her emerging from a coffee joint with an oversize cup. "I always get creamed for having my Starbucks cup," she says, sighing. "But the only time people get photos of me is when I'm getting coffee, when I can't sneak away from the camera." She also resents the pictorial implication that she and Ashley are dilettantes. "They take photos of us going into our offices, and it's 'Mary-Kate and Ashley shopping again.' But I'm going to work for eight hours, and we're working so hard. ..." She trails off. "It just shows how people want to think of you." Mary-Kate is not above celeb watching herself, however. Newly obsessed with Victoria Beckham, she notes she avidly watched Beckham's Coming to America documentary: "She's running around in a bikini and heels, and I'm like, Oh, my God! I do that, too!" How positively Grey Gardens. "I run around my house naked with heels all the time. It's so funny. All my friends will tell you I love running around in kimonos and jewelry or naked with jewelry." More people will be watching Mary-Kate soon, thanks to her role in the Emmy-nominated Weeds. "I am a very good Christian girl," she says with a wink. "She has her moral beliefs — and she happens to smoke pot." Of her newest cast member, Kohan adds, "Mary-Kate is complicated. She's a big celebrity, a huge media icon, but you have to separate the media images from someone who has the same issues, the same desires, as anyone else." Of course, Mary-Kate's image, in all its incarnations — from high fashion to small screen — is her strongest asset. And she has yet to settle on one. "I feel like I've lived 10 different lives already and I'm only 21," she says, almost as a reminder to herself. "But I also feel like I'm entering a new chapter." One thing on which she is clear, though: She doesn't need to be looked at all the time. What would she do for a day if she were invisible? "I would probably go to a restaurant with my friends, who would be able to see me, of course," she adds pragmatically, "and I would sit outside and enjoy a nice lunch with them. Then I would walk down the street." The old soul takes a sip of her little-girl-sweet hot chocolate. "That's what I would do."

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

Favorite tropes?

My top recent likes have been

Famous/Known Whumpee's and Fanatic Whumpers or Socialite Whumpers. Relationships that look amazingly caring to the public but under a suit and tie or long dress are a thousand different scars. They are domestic and loving to their fans, the public, they have a superstar relationship. Behind closed doors, one of them is basically a captive to the other. OR, they are stalked and coveted by a crazed fan. Always forced to hear about how wonderful their relationship is but they have to smile and agree because Whumper will know if they screw up to the media.

Self-sacrificial Caretakers or self-sacrifice in general. Caretakers especially that offer their life limb and body to whumper if it spares Whumpee a little less harm. Caretakers that keep Whumpee's innocence intact by giving sex, their body, their blood to Whumper/s if it keeps Whumpee safe.

It also goes close to the intimate/romantic Caretakers. Caretakers that genuinely love Whumpee and continue to take care of them because they understand whatever it is that mentally ties them to Whumper. They just want to see them safe, at home in their arms but they don't trap them. Some are physically loving but don't have to be, just kind and doting. They cater to Whumpee and do whatever it is they need to keep them comfortable.

SOME OTHERS THAT I LIKE:

Intimate Whumpers

Stalker Whumpers

Whumpers in positions of power: Political, Business, Royalty.

Brothel/sex-club/public slave-houses.

Human Pets and Box-boy are tropes that own my soul.

Medical/Science experiment whump is god tier. Give me spliced DNA and functional parts that much to Whumpee's horror, work. Give me rare Whumpee's that are experimented on ruthlessly to figure out how they work. I eat that shit up like soup through a straw.

Lady Whumpers are a rare but prime delicacy in my opinion and when mixed with any of the tropes above, even more tasty. The best garnish to a meal I could imagine.

Psychological Whump also holds a large piece of my personal creativity. I enjoy writing and reading about the internal Whump side effects as much as the bruises and scars. Anxiety attacks, depression, buckets of trauma to remind them of what all has been done to them. Night terrors, sleep paralysis, insomnia, and trust issues that run deeper than the ocean. This is the extent of brokenness in Whumpee's that really trips my trigger and butters my bread on both sides.

I personally tend to drift into the non-con side of Whump as a big trope for me too. It's been a personal Whump for me that I work with for several reasons.

Drug Whump and Addiction Whump are two more tropes I enjoy reading and working with. Aphrodisiacs, tranquilizers, narcotics, anything that controls and manipulates Whumpee's sobriety and diminishes the fight with a plausible explanation to their weakness. The most defiant Whumpee can be turned pliable and the Whumper can keep it in their back pocket as a quick fix when their temper arises. Plus it can make a mush of their mind in the meantime, given what Whumper makes them partake in. The lack of drugs is also a scary one if Whumpee is on controlled substances and Whumper is now in control of them.

Demon/Incubus/Succubus/Entity tropes are a long-term favorite for the amount of variety. Anything becomes possible when it has to do with demons or the supernatural and situations can happen when there was no possibility before. Possession, spells, mind-control, curses. All of those things can make just about anything you could imagine happen without rhyme or reason and it's an easy excuse to tack on some fantasy without going into the voids that most people don't like. There's also blood magic, occult happenings, voodoo, and black magic that can do even more harm or plotting.

Sorry, this turned into a long post but before I keep going, as I can always think of more, these are the basics and besides vampires/vampire AU; this is what I work with. It's also what I tend to look for and consume in media. Books, fanfiction, television; most media can catch my attention with these tropes or any combination.

These tropes are the reasons I'm drawn to more pop-culture things like; Game of Thrones, YOU, Criminal Minds, American Horror Story, Alice in Wonderland, Adaptations of Harley Quinn as well as the variations of the Joker. Games like Detroit: become human, The Last of Us, Assassin's creed, and Alice the Madness returns as well as its predecessor. I've watched Lifetime Movie Network and Crime and Drama shows since I was a child. Bailey Sarian and Kendall Rae drive with me everywhere I go.

I love anything that is chaotic and shows that people are the things that should scare us the most. That and the things that humanity does to them and can do to the world and us. Anything that borders insanity and brokenness of the human mind or body and really digs deep on death and life and drama.

[vminity21]

+1 | kth

Pairing: HighschoolCrush!Taehyung X StillProcessingIt!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): slight language use, angst (if you read b/w the lines), pretty much smutty kissing, hand groping, mention of alcohol, breast worship, nipple play; Rated: 18+

Summary: When a crush you had in high school unexpectedly returns to your life six years later, this is the experience you have with him when you collected the courage to invite him over to hangout.

Credit to: @suhdays​ for the amazing cover!

Inspiration comes in the form of little expectancy especially when life seems to throw a curveball you never dreamed would be a potential possibility; but, here you are, tapping upon the keyboard of your five-year-old laptop decorated in stickers of celebs you've admired over the years mingled with relevant quotes that have bustled yet again- inspiration that motivates you day by day to continue to be the human being that you are. Inspiration though can appear in lyrical melodies broadcasted globally for millions to pine over; or, published in numerous pages creating imaginary worlds where ones can escape to; or, sketched in a meticulous design to build whatever idea had been desired to come to life; or, filmed in scenes of an edited story by talented persons determined to enter the spotlight in any way they can; or, painted along a canvas in colors of calculated detail bringing forth the picture of accomplishment. Inspiration derives from a mere moment- one that sparks the instinct to gather the materials needed to pour out your heart in ways that may bring a sense of peace.

For you, it used to be in the lines of a song penciled into a crinkled notebook from your backpack hidden away for no one to discover; it used to be countless childhood journals where you expressed your inward battles in order to find enough solace to sleep at night. You've lost your touch over the years because life changes in the blink of an eye, as you grow older, and work can distract from the time taken to focus on yourself; thankfully graduating college to gain the degree you now behold landed you a job, one you hope lasts for many years, and you are currently living in a two-bedroom apartment with your best friend, Monica, who's presently slumbering as you brush some loose strands of hair from your vision.

Your dog is curled at the end of your bed as you write, which is something that you haven't done in what feels like forever, but the reasoning behind this sporadic urge ignited when the familiar pair of brown eyes from six years prior, re-entered your world without your preparation and his presence from a recent night shared seems to echo in every space of your brain to where you've finally had enough. It's about time to reach out, the devil on your shoulder whispers, but the angel sitting on the opposite begs to differ. Shaking your head, you pause momentarily, cracking your knuckles before resting your forehead on the desk, exhaling slowly while the memory of his touch seems to haunt your skin.

He was someone you once admired in high school- roaming the hallways where girls giggled giddily each time he'd pass by; star of the basketball team, rising popularity to the point everyone knew his name, collecting homework answers from budding friendships, and it all began once he started his junior year at a new school- the school where you attended. But the difference that set him apart from the typical cliché's of the prevalent students you never seemed to relate to, was that he talked to absolutely everybody and anybody- no judgment on what group the person took part in, his kindness won the hearts of many other than the evident attraction of his physical features. He didn't care who you were or what you were into, he would be your friend, and that, considering he was viewed on a higher level, made him even more special.

Despite never admitting it then, you had a crush on him. He was more of an acquaintance, but you enjoyed his company when he came around, and when a past friend, who is now married with a few kids, used to have a crush on the same person, your heart sank, because with every guy thinking she was hot, you felt as though you would never stand a chance. Especially not with this guy who made your hands jittery and the beat in your chest skip- the guy who is none other than Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung would frequent the chorus room at times when you and your past friend would practice music pieces and he always was fond of your singing voice- something he praised you for often, while his attention was received from his talent regarding sports. Something he was so good at that it was spread that he may have gained quite the scholarship for college if he decided to go. There were memories of bravery where you seized the day just to steal a conversation and a hug; at one time, scribbling the words 'hot af' with an arrow pointing where he signed your friend, Min Yoongi's, yearbook; Yoongi playing it off as though he had no idea who the culprit was when Taehyung asked who wrote it. Utter surprise can't even fathom when you along with Taehyung were voted 'Most Likely to be Famous' by your graduating class when senior year was conquered. The inside joke was for you to hold the basketball while he placed his hands upon the keys of a piano, the picture you still couldn't process happened, but always remained grateful for.

Six years flew by and the conversation never necessarily held, but there were the rare messages from social media where he'd reach out hoping all had been well with you. Interestingly enough, a cover you posted harmonizing with a fellow singer happened to be his absolute favorite, one of the few Instagram posts he'd commented on, and one of the few singing videos he continuously would listen to repeatedly without your knowledge until a few weeks ago when he revealed that to you. A cover that is now near to be a four-year-old video that he still finds uplifting when he hears you and the way your voice blended so well with the other female. Your mind is reeling because after all this time, and even now, there are remains of the aftershock, trying to forget the feel of him, when there's no way you can, not with everything so fresh on your mind. So fresh on your heart.

It all occurred when Yoongi, who kept in touch with you occasionally after graduation brought you up to Taehyung who happened to think of you earlier when listening to his favorite cover of yours, and he agreed he'd like to hang out. He asked if his friend, Hoseok could join you, Monica, and Yoongi which of course you said yes to learn how sweet you found it, that he had traveled within the span of a day after visiting his grandparents, because he is a man of his word, planned to come see you even though the drive was five hours out of his way. The night was filled with so much laughter mixed with serious conversations to the point the card game that was supposed to be played was never finished, and it sprung the desire of wanting to see Taehyung again, and you couldn't come to terms with never knowing so after some encouragement from Monnie and Yoongi, you messaged T to hang out a few days later, but never opened his reply until you were safely home from work.

Taehyung: Gotcha! Hmmm, I haven't decided on what I intend on doing. Either being with family or hanging out with friends. If I don't hang out with family, you could be my plus 1 or bring whomever or vice versa

[Y/N]: Sorry I just got home from work! I'll definitely be your plus 1 if hanging with family doesn't work out! Sounds like a plan!

He asked if you wanted anything from the store when it was confirmed he was on his way which you responded with your typical answer of no, and with music playing from your Bluetooth speaker, you were highly humiliated when you lost track of four minutes of time, opening a message from him to see that he had been there, at your door. Heart racing you rushed to unlock it, head spinning when you saw he leaned against the stair railing with a plastic bag of two Arbor Mist wine bottles dangling from his hand, him promising everything was fine despite your profuse apologies- him slipping his phone in his back pocket while he followed you into your home.

Monnie happened to be staying the night with her family, so it would be just the two of you tonight, besides your dog who bounced at his legs while he reached down to pet her fluffy head. Taking in the sight of him, now that was something you found hard to believe. Just a simple pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt with a black jacket complementing the dark tendrils of hair spread across his forehead leading to the carefully sculpted lining of his jaw nearly brought you to your knees, but you held it together long enough to settle across from him at your dining room table. He had taken off his shoes at the door remembering upon a few days prior, and he set out the wine while you jumped to retrieve wine glasses (Yoongi happened to purchase for you) while banter still related to greetings.

One thing that truly intrigued you when first seeing Taehyung after six years were words, he had said that touched your heart more than you'd like to profess. "That's why I try to enjoy every moment with people because you never know what day will be your last," and you knew right then, that if there was anyone you wanted to share a moment with, it was him, and there he was, right before you, smiling about something you said while the sound of the fruity liquid-filled each glass.

"I really truly do not understand what you are so afraid of. What do you even have to lose?" Monnie tinkered with the lens to her camera while she sauntered through the living room. Exasperated from anxiety, you sucked in your lips before teasingly throwing her the side-eye.

"My dignity,"

"Oh c'mon," she paused, lifting a brow. You had been talking nonstop on how bad you wanted to invite Taehyung over, but fear of rejection including the fear of humiliation seemed to overwhelm you, although deep down you knew your best friend in the entire world was correct. You did not nor do you have anything to lose.

"Well!" You squawked, raising your palms dramatically in the air before slapping them to the sides of your thighs, "Why the hell would Kim Taehyung ever want to hang out with me anyway? Do you not see how farfetched this all is?"

"Bold of you to assume that my life isn't already farfetched enough as it is-"

"Not! The point!"

Monnie sighed, and when she saw the way your shoulders slumped in disappointment that shouldn't have been an issue, to begin with, she stepped closer, placing her hand on your shoulder, "First off, you are overthinking this, and you shouldn't. Besides, I think after hanging out as a group, he only sees you as a friend, meaning no expectations. So, go into it with that mindset okay? I'm sure he'd love to hang out with you. Secondly," she smiled, her serene expression filled with promises she always kept, "You've waited six years for this. I think you should ask him to hang out."

"You really think so?" Your grin reached your hopeful eyes, and the feeling in your chest seemed to react more positively despite your earlier turmoil.

"Yeah. The dude owes us a chair anyways,"

"Ah!" You cackled, back pressed against the dining room table as you remembered literally a few days ago when Taehyung accidentally broke a spindle of the chair in half with his foot when Yoongi scared him just by suddenly walking down the hallway. "I don't think I've ever seen a man so embarrassed."

"I'm not saying to hold it over his head, but," Monnie held up her index finger, "I think that gives him enough reason to come back," she giggled, setting her camera on the dining room table before waltzing into the kitchen.

You shrugged, "At least we can still sit on it."

"Look at it, it's staring at me," Taehyung pointed swiftly at where the vacant spindle would have been, your laughter reverberated throughout the space.

"T, really, you do not owe us new chairs. I promise, it's fine," you reassured him, realizing your cheeks were sore from how much you'd been smiling since he entered your 'realm of refuge' as you liked to describe your apartment. He snapped a picture of it, probably with the intention of getting a new chair for you and Monica regardless, and you found that appreciative although you would be happy if he didn't.

Shit. You pause from the computer screen, leaning back into your chair before folding your arms tight across your chest. Eyeballing the cursor, your vision narrows as it blinks, waiting for you to add more words to the memory that seems to spin in a cycle with the subtle goal of not stopping. Or, so you figure. If recalling every little detail isn't already hard enough, reliving the reminiscence of his fingers twirling in your hair, his sweet laugh when he looked at you, or the way he held you so tight-

But, everything in between, leading up to those mesmerizing flashes are just as important to you as what it led to. Maybe it was the conversation- the three hours of conversation before the move to the sofa which it was hard to fully focus on what else was being said because how could you properly concentrate when the one person, you'd been so worried about spending time with was seriously conversing with you like the pair of you had been friends your whole lives?

Miraculously, you were able to gather the stories of past vacations that resulted in mild disappointment revolving around the complaints of people surrounding him, or the goal of visiting as many places as possible leading Taehyung to scribble down a list of where he'd been to reveal you both have equally been to the same amount of places. Of course, the thrill of going on a mini adventure with him brought an excitement you haven't felt in a while; even the story of why he was transferred to your high school years ago due to a misunderstanding, and when the pair of you made your way to the couch, he nestled into one corner while you gladly took the other, wishing you could snuggle closer but fear prevented you from doing so.

It seemed as though that he didn't want to watch the movie anyhow, because he talked to you as though he never wanted to stop, and eventually it led to you asking one too many times if he was okay with spending the rest of the night with you. "It's up to you, I'll stay if you want me too," he promised, the way your heart fluttered when you replied, "Yes, can you please stay? I don't want you to go."

"Alright, alright! I'll stay," he smiled widely, both of his large hands reaching out, and there was not one ounce of hesitation from you- your hands grasped his before your dog jumped to beg for attention, trying to lick at his face causing your hands to undo. Laughter was contagious with Taehyung, and still cuddled into the corner of the couch, you were so elated that he was going to stay, you reached to hug him, his arms wrapping around you, the feel of your bodies aligning putting the biggest smile on your face. It was crazy how everything was seeming to fall into place- the stars aligning as though it was all magic; and, you couldn't get past how right everything felt. How right he felt. Pulling away, his smile never left him, "Are you shy?" His arm remained draped around your shoulders, and timidly you peer at his surprised gape, his black hair almost covered his crescent eyes.

"I mean... Yeah, I can be," you murmured, reaching to hug him again, but something washed over you this time, a thought that had crossed your mind repeatedly that you just couldn't take it anymore. The side of his face was blurred, placing your palm upon his cheek, and without even a moment of doubt, you kissed him. A sudden decision, but one of the best ones you could have made.

His lips were so soft, the way his mouth just seemed to mold with yours for only a few mere seconds, and the shock on his face when you pulled away, paired with the realization that his hands were held in the air, you hadn't expected his reaction. Shit! You cursed inwardly, immediately jumping back to persistently make sure he was okay; even when he moved to cuddle with you, him claiming everything was fine, but that he couldn't believe you kissed him being the both of you never once saw this coming especially six years ago during the high school days. His hand was fidgety as he swiftly rubbed your shoulder, your head buried on his chest while your mind spun in a continuous loop of how you could not believe that you kissed Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung.

He became quiet- too quiet, concern etched in your expression, maneuvering yourself back to the opposite corner of the couch, so you could face him. "T, are you sure you're okay? Did I freak you out?"

"No, no, I just can't believe you kissed me," he was in awe, eyes dazed as he ran his slim fingers through his hair, "Like, really I never saw this coming,"

"I mean, have you looked in the mirror?" You teased, knowing damn well he'd been aware of you finding him attractive, and he shook his head in dismissal of your compliment as he chuckled; it took you a whole sixty seconds to realize you were holding his hand, fingers linked, and him asking if you were nervous due to your clammy palm, though you tried to swear up and down you were not, the next round of words he said nearly brought you to tears when he finally spoke.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short," he looked you in the eyes without any faltering, although you tilted your head in mild confusion as to why he was saying this, to begin with, "I don't think you realize how much of an impact you've made on others, especially guys," ah, he was letting you down easy, and you knew it, but you're too stunned to speak as you listened, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit either. You're a great singer, you're pretty much a musician, you love animals, you have a job, you live on your own. Really, you shouldn't sell yourself short-"

"T," you breathed, pleading almost, but trying not to make it obvious, but he never broke eye contact, "We don't have to date or anything, I just- I just wanted a moment with you." You mentioned what inspired you to spend time with him- exposing how a few nights ago when he said he wanted to enjoy every moment with people- you knew you wanted to have a moment with him, too. Memories from high school were spoken momentarily, thirty minutes passing by which included a made-up handshake as well as the subtle twirl of his fingers in your hair- him complimenting how good your hair looked which made you blush even more.

Just when you thought he wasn't already smooth enough, you noticed Taehyung started teasing your dog, her pouncing at his chest before he'd lean in closer to you. Eyebrows scrunching, it took you a hot second to realize what he was doing. Each time Taehyung would scoot closer to you, he'd kiss you, sending the pair of you in boisterous laughter when your dog would try to break the kisses by jumping in between your faces. The more your lips would touch, it'd last a bit longer and longer, your hand clinging to the side of his jacket to pull him closer when things really started moving fast, eventually your dog left the room with the hint that attention was no longer available for her.

Still lip-locked, Taheyung's hands gripped your hips while you willingly moved to straddle him, arms resting on the top of the couch on either side of his head, the tip of your tongue glided along his, while he fanned his hands along your ass. You refrained from moaning into his kiss despite how bad you wanted to, yet you held yourself together, involuntarily grinding your clothed heat where his erection was felt. T smacked your ass before slithering the tips of his fingers to your shirt, slowly unbuttoning one by one.... One by one. His eyes were hazed from how much he was craving your mouth, and with a seductive nod in his direction, he continued until he made it to the final goal, your kisses never planning to stop, the sides of your shirt being brushed away for him to take in the sight of you.

"Ooh my God," his eyes darkened in evident lust when he saw the way your black bra cupped your breasts, "Oh my God," his voice deepened, him hardly knowing what to do with himself while your smirk remained subtlety on your mouth. Though you hadn't needed him to ask, he politely waited for your permission to touch your chest, a quick pang of frilly nerves ghosted your stomach.

"Yeah," you breathed seductively, gradually moving to capture his lips, trying to hold back a giggle when he gently moved his hands to your back, "You're not going to find it there," you mused, referring to the clip. He paused as if panicked, "It's in the front," you finally admitted, but failing miserably, Taehyung let you take initiative, you unclipped your bra uncovering what is now widening his brown eyes. "Oh my God!" His reaction made you want to cum right then and there, especially when his fingers made their way to squeeze your nipples when his mouth returned to yours. Taehyung worshiped your breasts, and for some odd, yet arousing reason, you lived for it.

You're uncertain of when the tv was switched off, and even now, as your hands continue to fly across the keyboard, one thing you do recall, one of the lingering memories of the evening was your shirt being off, thrown onto the floor mingled with your bra, and without any warning, Taehyung hoisted you in the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso while he tightened his hold around your body. His steps were painfully careful, kissing you roughly while your arms kept their place behind his neck, and the direction was being taken to your bedroom where your heart pounded so anxiously to be. His jacket was shed before the bold act, and all that was left was his gray t-shirt and jeans. Laying you down with a bounce from your mattress, he remained above you, and your eyes refused to stray especially when he reached to remove his shirt- his smooth skin greeting yours sending waves of goosebumps spreading among your limbs.

There was no one like him in your eyes, and there never would be. Not in your heart. And with how perfect everything was going; you were not prepared for how hard it was going to be to stop before things went too far. Because what if he doesn't exactly feel the same? He was letting you down easy not even an hour ago, and here you were, hopes so high, you weren't sure how you were going to erase them back down. He kissed you until you couldn't breathe, your fingers dug into your comforter, while his palms glided all over your frame for however long you let him, but when he went to remove your leggings, you halted him.

Now, this is where your heart aches when you relive this part, because a conversation was held, one where you mentioned what if someone catches feelings if the both of you decided to solely be just friends with benefits? Taehyung said all you had to do was communicate with him because he was easy to get along with, and you've known this about him for six years. He was always someone easy to talk to, and you knew he would never treat you poorly over a situation like this. And, he hadn't. You made the executive decision to not sleep with him for you wanted him to remember you as the woman you are, and the woman, you've always been, and with the fear of going all the way being something that could change his image of you, you were satisfied to hear the loud echoes of his snoring after you changed into pajamas, gazing at his sleeping demeanor before you drifted into slumber as well.

When the morning came, you were not ready for him to leave, but he asked if you would walk him out, him throwing on his shirt and jacket while you rushed to brush your teeth. T asked if you had any other plans for the rest of the day which you proceeded to answer honestly with a no, as he mentioned that he was going to get breakfast.

"Let me know when you make it home," you said tenderly, "I want to know you're safe,"

"I will," he promised before you embraced him, turning just enough to place a peck to his cheek. It was his smile that decided to enter your recollection- the boxy smile that would plague you until the day you accept that you will never forget it.

And when you opened the door to the apartment where he gracefully waltzed through, you merely caught a glimpse of him leaving, ahead of you quietly shutting the door to whatever could have been.

Or, what could have started a beautiful story that has yet to unfold.

[themurphyzone]

Nova Ch 11

AN: This is gonna be the last of the set-up chapters. The story will start snowballing (see what I did there? Heehee) from the next chapter on.

This chapter includes an art piece I requested from the talented @plutonis​, and I’m so glad I can finally show this off because it contains some very gorgeous colors.

AO3 Link

Ch 11: Spectrum 

Terran Date 2015.4.28

Yesterday, Pinky showed me one of his favorite pieces of media to thank me for the story of Heikro var Silda, even though he cried for fifteen minutes because of the tragic ending. While indeed sad, I’m proud to say I remained steadfast and controlled my emotions upon revisiting the story. And while I told him it wasn’t necessary, he insisted and I acquiesced to his demands.

That’s how Pinky introduced me to The Lion King. Once again, I remained strong even when the emotional distress threatened to override my logical mind. It was...rather difficult, I’ll admit. We watched the sequel afterward, and though I’ve created five different charts that list the plot points in order, I cannot come up with a satisfactory sequence of events that connects both movies into a cohesive narrative.

Moving onto real life matters...Pinky seems to be under the impression that I will be a permanent resident of the lab.

Celestial bodies above, what use is my intelligence if I’m trapped among heathen, dimwitted fools who can’t tell the difference between left and right! I refuse to be a lab rat, made to do the so-called dominant species’ bidding. Snowball and I shall be taking over this planet and progressing their backwards society far beyond their wildest dreams! That’s what we came here for, and I will not be sidetracked again.

As for Pinky...well, his imagination can make up some personalities for his inanimate object friends once I leave. He doesn’t have any shortage of those. The newest addition to the crew is an eraser nub with the moniker of ‘Gummy’.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

Brain saved the new transmission to an encrypted, password-protected file. None of the scientists were technical experts, so the odds of discovery were miniscule or nonexistent. He only had five audio files in total, a meager amount compared to the hundreds of transmissions he’d made back on New Selene. The pointer hovered over the Delete All button. He didn’t have a reason to keep making transmissions when he was leaving the lab behind in just a few days.

Still, he hesitated.

Maybe he could leave it as a memento for Pinky. But even a basic level of encryption and case-sensitive password would remain far beyond Pinky’s capabilities.

Perhaps it was best to leave the issue for another night.

He logged off the computer and joined Pinky, who’d surrounded himself with Gummy and the rest of his inanimate object friends as he played a board game called Monopoly. Though Brain had looked up the rules and goals of the game during his online session out of curiosity, he didn’t really understand the appeal or mass marketability of such an unbalanced game.

Although, given the number of different versions of Monopoly out there, creating and selling his own version of the game with the title of Brainopoly could prove to be a viable plan.

Pinky was playing as if there were four players and not just a free-for-all against a nickel, button, and eraser. It became disturbingly obvious that Pinky was either overly generous or just woefully terrible at mental math, because he continually doled out the wrong amount of money from the bank or his own meager cash pile.

And Pinky was far better off if Brain cut in now, because there was no chance that anyone else was catching up to Gummy, who owned the most lucrative properties and had the largest amount of money.

He had to stop anthropomorphizing these objects. He was starting to think like Pinky, and that was an extremely distressing thought.

“You’re losing to an eraser,” Brain said. Pinky only had a few fives in currency, and the three properties he owned were all flipped over and mortgaged.

“Yeah, Gummy’s just very good at this game! Narf!” Pinky said as he rolled the dice for Mr. Button. “It’s so nice of him to let us sleep in his Marvin Garden Apartments though. Otherwise we’d be homeless!”

“Nice indeed,” Brain replied. For his peace of mind, he didn’t dare press for more details.

Pinky threw the dice, then moved the bucket token seven spaces, landing on the Luxury Tax space. “That’ll be seventy-five dollars, Mr. Button,” Pinky said as he gathered the money, which only totaled sixty. And Mr. Button’s four properties were all mortgaged. Pinky realized this too. “Oh...you don’t have enough. Poit.”

Any normal player would’ve tossed in the towel right there, but Pinky wasn’t a conventional player by any means. He frowned, scratched his head, then picked up his own pile of fives and tossed them onto the sixty, bringing the amount to seventy-five, with two leftover fives for Mr. Button.

“You can have that, Mr. Button!” Pinky chirped as he dumped the luxury tax money in the middle of the board. “With a little more for the bus!”

Pinky had completely knocked himself out of the game.

This was supposed to be an extremely competitive game for families and seasoned professionals, right? Though the rules of Monopoly appeared confusing and controversial to most players, he was certain that nobody would willingly lose with such a reckless method.  

Well...maybe it was just a fluke. Pinky was only playing against himself, so if he wanted to give up the money to something he was making the decisions for, that was his choice.

Besides, he couldn’t watch this game much longer.

“I’ll be your next opponent,” Brain announced. He’d never played before, but the basics seemed simple enough. And the math involved was basic arithmetic he could do in his sleep. “Reset the board at once, Pinky.”

Pinky’s tail wagged as he gathered up the houses and hotels and tossed them back into the box, then settled down as he skillfully shuffled the Community Chest and Chance cards. From the way he hummed and twirled around, an outsider could easily mistake Brain for a playmate instead of an opponent.

Brain quickly read over the instruction sheet, then divided the game currency into a starting amount for himself, Pinky, and the bank.

“Can I be in charge of the property cards, Brain?” Pinky asked as he organized them by color.

“Yes, but I shall handle all other banker duties,” Brain said. “Listen closely, Pinky. I’ve looked up stories about Monopoly games going on for a long time with no definitive winner, so we’ll stop the game when one of us runs out of money, or if chance has favored you or I enough that we can place a hotel on the board.”

“Chance always has a problem with favoritism,” Pinky said as he moved the horse token to the Go space. Indeed, chance hasn’t always favored members of either of their species, but it could stand to be more merciful during a board game. He hugged the horse token to his chest. “Anyways, Pharfigtwoton is always my choice! What’s yours?”  

Brain didn’t understand how anyone in their right mind would want to play as a wheelbarrow or bucket, and the only pieces that interested him at all were the ones that resembled modes of Terran transportation. In the end, he chose the battleship.

He was tempted to call it the Conquistador Two, but he didn’t want to follow the trend of naming random objects.

“Good one!” Pinky said as he pushed the ship over to the horse token. “A gorgeous ship like this needs a name...so I hereby dub thee Battley McBattleface!”

“We’re calling it the Conquistador Two, and that’s final,” Brain snapped.

“The Conquesodor Two,” Pinky agreed.

They tossed the dice to decide turn order, and Pinky won that battle easily since Brain had the misfortune to roll double ones.

On his first turn, Pinky managed to land on St. Charles Place with a high roll. He happily shelled out the money required to buy the property. “I’m putting a nice dog park here!” he declared, placing the unused dog token in the magenta space above the property. “Now Pharfigtwoton can give rides to all the puppies!”

Brain didn’t know if Monopoly required players to create their own storyline, but it certainly made the game more interesting and baffling at the same time. He rolled the dice, sighing when he could only advance to Reading Railroad.

He hoped it wouldn’t be a trend for Pinky to receive high rolls while he was stuck in the first half of the board.

But he quickly changed his mind once he paid up for Reading Railroad and read through the card information. Just like any real life war or corporate strategy, the key to his victory would lie in controlling the flow of transportation and goods!

Pinky landed on New York on his next turn, rambling about taking all the puppies to New York for a double decker bus tour of the city as he slid a stack of bills to Brain. Brain sighed and tossed an extra twenty bill back at Pinky. He wished Pinky would pay more attention to adding properly than the make-believe puppies.

Brain rolled the dice and moved his battleship to Virginia, claiming the property so Pinky couldn’t control one-fourth of the board this early in the game.

“Brain, can I have a house?” Pinky asked as he drew a Community Chest card. He read through the card and grinned. “Awww, I got second in a beauty pageant! Thank you, everyone! It’s such an honor! Oh, and it says I also won ten dollars.”

“You don’t meet the conditions required for a house, Pinky,” Brain said, giving Pinky a ten. He didn’t care about the fake beauty pageant, just that money was either gained or lost depending on luck of the draw.

“Oh, I’ll keep them off the board,” Pinky promised. “I just want a house for Terry to live in.”

He held up the dog token, who was now apparently called Terry.

“Fine, but don’t mix your ridiculous fantasies with the board,” Brain sighed and tossed a green house at Pinky, which smacked him in the head when he didn’t catch it in time. Pinky laughed it off and coaxed Terry to stand next to the house.

Houses and hotels. His Internet searches on the Clarkes led to tons of websites on the Terran real estate market and hotel industry.

Which reminded Brain that he hadn’t shared his research into the Clarkes with Pinky yet. There hadn’t been enough time during the day, where the incompetent scientists poked and prodded them. And in Brain’s case, tried to figure out where the antennae came from.

Their hypotheses, and he was being exceedingly generous when he described their speculation and conspiracy theories as hypotheses, amounted to claiming a Terran mouse and insect had reproduced together.

“I’ve brushed up on the Clarkes so we can properly impersonate them at the party. According to-scrik!” Brain hissed under his breath when he landed on New York and had to pay Pinky.

“Sixteen please!” Pinky chirped. “All proceeds will go to buying toys and treats for good dogs in need!”

Brain grudgingly gave up the sixteen. Probability was not on his side tonight. “As I was saying before cruel fate reared its ugly head, the man I shall impersonate, Anthony Clarke, is an esteemed real estate and luxury hotel mogul, with a net worth in the billions. His success is rooted in savvy, ruthless business against competitors. It appears that he and Lamont are old college acquaintances, which we can spin to our advantage. And...yes! B&O Railroad!”  

He claimed the B&O Railroad for himself, and Pinky wrinkled his nose. “I wouldn’t ride on the Body Odor Railroad even if you pay me in cheese,” he said.

Brain rolled his eyes. “The temptation for cheese is too powerful for your empty mind and bottomless stomach.”

“You’re right, Brain. It’s too yummy.” Pinky licked his lips. “So does that make me Mrs. Zoey Clarke then? Unless he divorced her already. I haven’t kept up with them in a while.” The butler on the phone had made a similar comment, thoroughly expecting ‘Mr. Clarke’ to divorce his spouse by the end of the week.

“So you’re aware of the Clarkes,” Brain said. He rolled the dice, and chance immediately sentenced him to jail. He had to push his battleship all the way to the jail space.  

But all of this divorcing nonsense was trivial to his goals. Hardly worth a footnote.

The objective was to infiltrate the party, mingle with the guests to throw off suspicion, then steal the military weapon and take over the world, not involve himself in a Terran’s relationship drama.

“Ooh, tough.” Pinky clicked his tongue in sympathy as he bought Waterworks. “But everyone knows who the Clarkes are. Didn’t you see anything about all those divorces when you looked them up?”

“I’m more interested in his business ventures than his messy personal life,” Brain replied. “All this talk about divorce is simply incidental. But now I digress. Escaping jail so I may continue my conquering campaign is of utmost priority.”

“Doubles! Doubles!” Pinky chanted as Brain threw the dice. A two and three faced up, but no doubles. Pinky deflated, but only for a moment. Then he picked up a fifty. “Here, Brain. I’ll bail you out.”

From Brain’s brief skim over the rules, he didn’t recall a single one that allowed players to bail each other out of jail. He wanted to refuse and tell Pinky to focus on winning for himself, but obtaining Pennsylvania Railroad, which he’d missed the first time he’d passed through this section of the board, was just too tempting.  

Brain took the fifty from Pinky, put it in the bank, then moved his battleship out of jail and used his draining resources to buy Pennsylvania Railroad. Only afterward did he realize that he’d been steadily losing money every turn and hadn’t gained anything since the beginning of the game.

Contrast to Pinky, who rolled a twelve and skipped over the last fourth of the board, placing him squarely on the Go space and guaranteeing himself a free two hundred. Then he rolled a low number and bought Mediterranean.

A poor investment, given that it was hardly worth anything. But Pinky didn’t think so.

And he wouldn’t stop cooking up new fantasies either. “Now we can host a beach jubilee for your welcome home from jail party! With hot dogs and beach balls and those big umbrellas and-”

Brain lobbed the dice at Pinky so he’d quiet down and allow Brain to formulate a strategy in peace.

Perhaps a pass around the board without purchasing anything would be necessary. He had to rebuild his financial resources again. The downside was that Pinky could potentially take the spaces for himself, but it was entirely possible that he’d miss some of the open spaces too.

So he did just that, finally lucking out when a Community Chest card sent Pinky to Reading Railroad.

But Pinky was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, and soon he was back on the topic of the infamous Clarke divorces.

“-so I think Zoey is number eleven, and I know they all blend together, so when I confuse them I just remember divorce, beheaded, died, divorce, beheaded, survived!”

Brain stared at Pinky, praying to all the ancient Selenian gods nobody believed in anymore that Snowball didn’t have him take the identity of a murderer.

“Oh wait no, no...that’s King Henry, not Clarke. Must’ve mixed them up, poit. Sorry.”

Brain threw another green house at Pinky, nailing him in the shoulder. Pinky yelped, but once he realized he had another house he immediately thanked Brain because that meant Terry’s friend could move next door.

Since there was little point to dissuading Pinky entirely, Brain focused on his game strategy instead.

It was mostly repetition anyway. Roll dice, move piece, board event, repeat. Perhaps it would be considered tedious and monotonous, but the storylines Pinky improvised were what truly made it fascinating, even though Brain could only follow about half of it since Pinky created plotholes within the fantastical yet mundane place named Monopoly City faster than the speed of light.

According to Pinky, he and his sister co-ran an enormous pet supply shop attached to a humane animal shelter next door to the dog park. Meanwhile, Brain was conductor of a magical train and seeking the mayorship because the corrupt mayor was involved with an evil cigarette corporation who wanted to diabolically sell their products to innocent children.

And while Pinky certainly had a knack for improvisation, the matter at hand was that Brain couldn’t resist buying Boardwalk, but he’d used up a third of his money and Pinky wasn’t landing there to make up for the deficit. But Brain also had Baltic, the least valuable property, and Pinky had Park Place, which Brain desperately needed since neither of them had houses on the board yet.

This wasn’t going to be a fair trade for Pinky, but it was the best chance Brain had to etch out a victory. He was going for it.

“Park for Baltic so we can finally build some residences,” Brain said, sliding the card over to Pinky.

And to his surprise, Pinky jumped at the opportunity. “Sure, Brain! If you’ll trade me Oriental for Marvin Gardens. We’re gonna open a Chinatown district!”

He’d be giving Pinky control of the first quarter of the board, but the allure of the most expensive properties was far too tempting to pass up.

They swapped properties, then paused the game to set up their houses. Brain didn’t have enough money to buy houses for all his properties, so he set two houses on Boardwalk and hoped he could deal a staggering blow to Pinky’s finances. And even this decision was costly, for he only had $180 left.

Pinky set four houses on Baltic and clapped his hands together. “They’re beach houses,” he explained, and didn’t bother putting houses on the rest of his properties even though he could afford it.

Brain kept his mouth shut. Best not to give Pinky ideas. So he rolled the dice and got doubles.

Luxury Tax.

Scrik.

Now he was down to $105. But he’d pass Go on his next turn, so he could obtain an extra two hundred and hopefully skip this portion of the board.

Then he landed on Baltic.

He slowly looked at Pinky, and Brain couldn’t tell if Pinky was being perfectly innocent or just very, very good at pretending to be perfectly innocent. “That’ll be $320 please,” Pinky said.

Including the two hundred from passing Go, he’d only have a grand total of $305.

And according to the conditions he’d set, he’d lost the game through losing all his money.

“Can’t pay it,” Brain sighed. “Congratulations, Pinky. You’ve bested me.”

Pinky giggled and threw his play money in the air in celebration. “Aw, thanks for playing with me! I’ve never played Monopoly with anyone before. Never been able to get the board to Pharfignewton’s stable without the play money flying all over the street. It took me a long time to pick it all up. We should definitely do this again, Brain! Troz!”

But there wouldn’t be a next time. No matter how much he wanted to be victorious in another match against Pinky.

“Yes, we should,” Brain forced out, willing his racing heart to calm down so he wasn’t caught in his lie.

Pinky beamed, and Brain only wished it wasn’t so difficult to explain.

o-o-o-o-o

Terran Date 4.29.2015

Tonight, we shall seek appropriate outfits for the masquerade ball. I have been informed that my jumpsuit is not considered formal attire and that we will need to shop for proper clothing. However, I will be bringing my jumpsuit along since I will not return to the lab, and I require my conquering outfit to carry out our plans.

Pinky knows a place that may contain what we need. He’s spent the last two hours finishing his hat for the Kentucky Derby and has proudly shown off the finished product to me. Though I’ll admit that the result can only be considered a hat if one is generous with their definition.

I have not been able to contact Snowball. I can only assume he’s making the necessary preparations on his end.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

They stood in front of an enormous building with bright neon letters, impossible to miss even with his direction-challenged companion. Thankfully, it was only a few blocks from the lab. After the scientists strapped him to a machine that tested centrifugal force, he didn’t have the energy to walk much further.

“Welcome to Toyz ‘B’ We, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed, and Brain cringed at the horrendous grammar of that name. “It's the most wonderfulest toy shop ever!”

Wonderfulest wasn’t a word, but Brain was given no time to inform Pinky of that fact before Pinky dragged him to the entrance, where a large, cartoonish statue of a Terran bee stood off to the side, greeting customers with a cheerful wave of her magic wand.

“So that’s the mascot, Becky Bee,...let’s see, those are the shopping carts and the baskets and those machines that give you washable tattoos-”

“Focus on the clothing, Pinky. Not all the extraneous material,” Brain reminded him as they entered the store. Unlike their disastrous mall trip, Brain had brought along a source of money, an ACME credit card one of the scientists had carelessly left at their desk after purchasing a chair online.

They had a right to use the card as ACME employees who never got paid for their hard labor in experiments. And he promised Pinky he’d give it back once they were through purchasing the necessary items, so it didn’t catch on that pesky ‘no stealing’ radar.

Based on Pinky’s descriptions of the store, he expected an interior full of wonder, excitement, and interesting objects designed for enjoyment for young Terrans.

Instead, everything was a sterile white, yellow, or black. Rectangular kits of building blocks of all shapes and sizes sat neatly in a row, their price tags dusty as if they hadn’t been moved or cleaned in some time.

Dozens of bee models hung from the ceiling rafters, all of them sharing the exact same dead stare and pose. The whole setup was rather unnerving, and Brain averted his eyes.

He spotted two workers at the registers. They scrolled through their phones, not noticing Pinky’s cheerful greeting as he skipped past them. A third worker called out in alarm to them, and they suddenly dropped their phones and picked up rags, repetitively wiping their counters in circles in a poor attempt to appear busy.

The only one who acted like they were in a store meant for entertainment was Pinky, who oohed and ahhed and zigzagged all over the place to get a look at all the toys.

“Brain, look at this Barbie convertible! It’s so sparkly!” Pinky exclaimed before darting off to admire the box art on five-hundred piece jigsaw puzzles, then crawled onto the lowest shelf to hug a life-sized chihuahua plushie. “Narf! This one’s a cutie! And I also like the polka-dotted lizard, that green unicorn, and that rainbow koala looks really soft too-”

Brain grabbed Pinky’s tail, yanking him out of the shelf and onto the floor.

“This store’s already eroding whatever’s left of your mind,” Brain said, dragging Pinky away from the stuffed animals.

Pinky propped himself up on his elbows, humming as they passed aisle upon aisle of action figures, balls, and building blocks.

It was strange how they seemed to be the only customers here. Shouldn’t there be more snot-nosed brats running amok or haggard parents corralling them so they didn’t destroy everything with their grubby hands?

Still, perhaps he shouldn’t complain.

It was a relief that he didn’t have to worry about people trampling him underfoot for now.

But the peace didn’t last long, since Pinky suddenly peeled away in a completely different direction, forgetting that Brain was hanging onto his tail. Though he tried to dig his heels in, Pinky was too fast and the floor too slippery for Brain to bring them to a halt.

Then Pinky stopped on his own, and Brain only caught a glimpse of a metallic table leg before he crashed face-first into it, his nose smarting from the impact.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said sheepishly, and there were five upside-down images of him. Brain swatted at the one in the middle, but his hand hit empty air instead. He shook his head to clear his vision, and all but the Pinky on the far left vanished.

Pinky didn’t stay put for long, darting past Brain. He hauled himself up the table leg and onto a light blue tablecloth. “You have to come up and see this, Brain!” Pinky squealed, peering over the edge of the table, his tail wagging beside him. “There’s an entire fence made of Legos here!”

Brain sighed, wondering if it was an exercise in futility to get Pinky to focus on the task at hand. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself!” Brain shouted as he climbed up to retrieve Pinky. “We’re here for the clothes and-”

Though Brain only took fifteen seconds to ascend, Pinky managed to don a cropped, checkered top that showed off his slender stomach and a very short blue skirt in that short timeframe.

“Well, what do you think?” Pinky giggled and twirled in circles, the skirt flying in a graceful arc around his waist. “I could go square dancin’ in this, pardner! Yee-narf!”

Realizing he’d been staring at Pinky’s exposed stomach rather than making proper eye contact, Brain quickly turned away and pretended to find a row of small toy cars interesting. Next to the toy cars, there was a menagerie of small, plastic animals penned in by a colorful fence.

Part of a garden themed jigsaw puzzle served as a lawn under his feet, the pieces leading up to an enormous pink dollhouse.

Pinky took off the clothes he’d tried on, neatly threading a bent wire through the crop top and skirt and hanging them on a piece of string that served as a makeshift clothesline. There were five different clotheslines, each stocked to the brim with a variety of colorful articles.

Brain thumbed through the selection, though he didn’t feel an attachment to any of these pieces. While these clothes were designed for toys, most of them were still too big for him.

Finding something that would fit would be more difficult than he realized.

There was a large empty space past all the clotheslines, but it seemed it would be filled in soon enough. The display had all the signs of being a work in progress, and Brain couldn’t help but wonder who had the patience to put all this together. Certainly not the bored workers at the registers.

It was a welcome splash of creativity from the rest of the dull store.

“Poit. This is exactly how I imagined my dream home to be,” Pinky said in awe. He walked up to the front door and popped it open, revealing a spacious interior. Brain followed Pinky inside and they explored the first floor together, which contained a kitchen, living room, and a playroom.

“I really like the coloring on those kitchen cabinets, and the fireplace is a great touch! Very retro. And the kiddies will have a grand ol’ time in the playroom,” Pinky said as they climbed the staircase to the second floor and walked through two bedrooms and a bathroom.

“Marble countertops would make the kitchen and bathroom more refined,” Brain argued. Really, did Pinky want any visitors to think uncivilized brutes owned the house? “But the fireplace is a welcome touch.”

Pinky shrugged as they entered the master bedroom. “It’s fine as is. Now if the backyard was bigger with a dolphin-shaped swimming pool, that would be really, really amazing!”

And Brain preferred marble countertops, but since he wouldn’t be getting everything he wanted, neither would Pinky.

Brain sat on the large bed that took up half the room, the fluffy covers soft and welcoming. But they were on a mission, and future world rulers didn’t roll around on beds in an undignified manner, no matter how tempting it was.

Pinky threw open the closet doors, revealing more clothing inside. “Oh, these pajamas are lovely!” he said, pressing a yellow nightgown close to his body.

“Anything that would suit our purposes?” Brain asked. In hindsight, doing some research into what people wore for masquerade balls would’ve been helpful. He didn’t know why it slipped his mind. Perhaps Pinky’s scatterbrained traits were contagious.

“Hmmm, it’s all pajamas and casual wear,” Pinky said, flicking through the different articles. He closed the doors and reopened them, as if the formal wear would magically appear if they were out of sight. “No suits for you or the porpoises, Brain.” And he’d been so hopeful too.

“Maybe we can find something in the aisles,” Pinky said.

A sensible suggestion, for once.

Brain tried not to appear reluctant to leave the bed, but necessity demanded it. As he stood up, the fur on his neck pricked, his ears twitching towards the large window in the bedroom.

An odd sense that he was being watched came over him, and when he turned to look at the window, he saw a Terran’s eye peering into the balcony.

They stared at each other.

Then the eye blinked.

And Brain was suddenly very, very glad Snowball wasn’t here to bear witness, or he’d never hear the end of how he’d leapt onto Pinky’s back in his moment of panic.

Pinky yelped, and so did the Terran outside the window. There were several loud thuds, followed by a frantic apology.

Brain released Pinky, rubbing his face to get rid of the blush as he ran down the staircase and out the front door.

“S-sorry!” a young woman stammered as she bent down to pick up several packages of toys, only to lose her large glasses on the floor in the process. She wore the standard uniform of the store. “I didn’t think anyone would be inside! I thought one of the furniture pieces fell over, that’s all!”

Pinky hopped down from the table, picking up the woman’s glasses and pressing them into her hand. “It’s okay!” he chirped. “You scared us good, but now we can laugh about it! Oh, your name tag says Sharon! What a lovely name! I’m Pinky, that chubby alien up there is Brain, and we’re going to a party this weekend where we’ll raise awareness for the plight of frosted animal crackers!”

“That’s not the event’s objective,” Brain corrected, and he had no choice but to let Pinky come to his own conclusions. Stealing the secret weapon on Lamont property would remain classified information as promised. “And if you call me chubby again, I shall have to hurt you.”

Sharon took her glasses from Pinky with a tentative smile, then let him climb up her arm and onto her shoulder. “Zort! You have very good taste in Polly Pocket dolls!” Pinky said, peering down at the packages in her hands. “Do you collect?”

Sharon blushed. “I, um, have a lot of Beanie Babies at home. I’m not really interested in Polly Pockets, but they’d fit much better in this display than a standard Barbie.” She glanced at Brain. “I’m sorry, could you please move? I’m putting a few things in that area.”

Brain moved out of the way as Sharon carefully opened the packages. Then she placed several small tables and chairs in the empty space next to the clotheslines, bending the dolls’ legs into sitting positions and placing them on the chairs. She worked slowly and diligently, taking great caution to not knock anything over or break the items.

“Did you make all this?” Pinky asked. “It’s amazing!”

“Y-yeah, I did. The display, I mean. Not the toys.” Sharon didn’t look at Pinky as she straightened one of the Lego fences. “Store’s been on the decline, and because there’s not really much to do, I’m trying to create a few displays to generate some interest. The toys in this one were supposed to be thrown away since nobody’s buying them, even on clearance, but it just seemed so wasteful.”

She was resourceful. It was a valuable trait, but she seemed more embarrassed than anything.

“Take pride, Sharon. It’s an excellent use of parts,” Brain advised.

Pinky nodded eagerly. “And you’re saving the toys from the evil furnace! I’m sure they’re very grateful to you when you’re not looking!”

“You...you really like it?” Sharon lifted her glasses and wiped a tear from her eye. “Nobody’s ever really noticed my efforts around here.”

“Well, they should!” Pinky declared. “I’ll tell them so myself!”

Sharon smiled as Pinky hugged her face, then rejoined Brain on the table. “Thanks, but I don’t think you came to this store just to invade a toy home.”

“No, we didn’t,” Brain said, seeing his opportunity and seizing it. “We require formal clothes for a masquerade ball, and unfortunately, we haven’t seen anything of interest yet.”

“There’s plenty of interesting things in here, Brain,” Pinky said. “Like the busybody bees up on the ceiling!”

Apparently they had two very different definitions of interesting.

“Well, I can bring out some items from the back,” Sharon offered. “We had to pull the entire line of formal Zuma Ben accessories last week. Some parents found the outfits a little scandalous for their kids, so now the accessories are just going in the trash. But maybe you’ll find something to wear from the pile. Be right back, guys!” She walked away, her steps growing slightly more confident.

“Real Zuma Ben accessories?” Pinky clasped his hands to his cheek. “I’ve never worn anything like that before!”

“It’s just a name,” Brain said. He didn’t see why Pinky was treating Zuma Ben’s name like a sacred object. “As long as we’re dressed to impress, the name doesn’t matter.”

“I just think they’re pretty,” Pinky replied. “And I like looking at them, even if I can’t buy anything. Still, I’m really happy with the clothes I have now.”

But Pinky had a sizable wardrobe. Those clothes had to come from somewhere.

“So how did you obtain your clothes if you never bought them?” Brain asked.

Pinky smiled. “The scientists. They’ll drop clothes into my cage, which is really nice of them! One time, I put on this pretty sundress they gave me and I started itching really bad. I was jumping around like a tiny monkey and I managed to make them all laugh! I must’ve been quite the sight!”  

Pinky laughed at the memory, but Brain was more disturbed at how the blatant act of humiliation didn’t affect him in the slightest. Then the laugh faltered and restarted at a higher pitch.

No, that initial assessment was wrong. True, Pinky could withstand many things, but not even the most resilient being could tolerate the sound of mockery for long.

Should he say something? Was an ‘I’m sorry’ sufficient? Was there any act of comfort that didn’t involve unnecessary physical contact?

Brain wanted to be decisive, but dozens of scenarios played out in his head, and none of them led to a satisfactory outcome. Tell Pinky to cease his laughter, embrace him, talk about the weather. He didn’t know.

Emotions led to nothing but trouble.

“Quit staring,” Brain snapped when Pinky wouldn’t stop watching him like he wanted something.

Pinky’s ears fell, but Sharon came back before the pang of guilt could fully settle in Brain’s stomach.

“Thanks for waiting, guys,” Sharon said as she dumped the accessory packages onto the table. “See anything you like?”

“All of them!” Pinky declared, happily tossing a three-pack of formal dresses into the air. He tried tearing it open, but the packaging wouldn’t give. Sharon helpfully tore it open for him, and Pinky made a happy, grateful sound before pulling a sparkly purple dress over his body. He twirled around. “So how do I look?”

“Lovely,” Sharon giggled as she pulled out her phone. She set it against the Lego fence, allowing Pinky to see himself in the camera app.

“I’ll put this as a maybe,” Pinky said. “But I have to give all the dresses a chance too!”

He tried four other dresses on in quick succession, and all of them went into the maybe pile.

Meanwhile, Brain searched through his choices of men’s formal wear. He wanted the best possible option for successful infiltration, but he didn’t know much about Terran fashion. His nose wrinkled at a powdered blue suit with far too many ruffles. He was fairly certain that wouldn’t garner respect on any planet, so he pushed the offending pack away from his other options.

The pure white suit would get stained too easily. He needed something darker. That one was out.

“Hey Brain, what about this one?” Pinky asked. He now wore a long sleeved lime green dress, which Brain found extremely tacky and unappealing to the eyes. Not even Pinky could salvage that monstrosity. Yet in Pinky’s hands, there was a black suit with a white shirt underneath. Not extravagant by any means, but since the coloration was similar to his conquering attire, it was the most probable choice by far.

But while Pinky was comfortable with changing in front of others, Brain wasn’t so keen on the idea.

“I require privacy,” Brain said. He took the suit from Pinky and went inside the house, shutting the door behind him and ensuring the shutters were closed.

Then he removed his gloves and jumpsuit, shivering from the cold air as he laid the items over a chair. He put on the new set of pants first, then the white collared shirt, and finally buttoned the jacket over his abdomen.

Well, it was comfortable. And it hid most of his stomach too, which was also a positive. But he needed to see how it looked in the light before making a judgment call, so he rejoined Pinky and Sharon, who were playing with different filters on her phone while Pinky wore a magnificent feathery pink dress.

“Now you really look like a flamingo,” Sharon laughed as Pinky changed the filter to sepia, the image now different shades of tan. Pinky blew a kiss to the camera. “This one’s my favorite so far,” Pinky declared with a graceful curtsey.

And the sleeveless feathery dress did seem to match his personality much better than all the other dresses. Flamboyant and quirky, but inviting and friendly as well. A darker pink feather boa was draped over his shoulders, and purple feathers fanned out from the back of his neck. A light green choker was wrapped around his neck. Then Pinky added a matching headband with a light pink tuft to complete the ensemble.

“That will certainly make an excellent first impression on the partygoers,” Brain said.

Pinky changed the phone filter back to normal with one hand, playing with the feather boa in his other. “Egad, you really think so?” he exclaimed. “Hold on a sec, Brain. Where’s the rest of your outfit?”

“Rest of?” Brain echoed. “This doesn’t require anything else.”

Pinky shook his head and dug a red bow and matching sash out of the clothes pile. “You need a few splashes of color, Brain! Or you’ll just end up a sad wilty wallflower!”

“They’d really match your circles,” Sharon added.

Well, he’d always looked good in red. It was a bold, attention-grabbing color.

Brain draped the sash over his shoulder and fastened the bow around his ear, checking himself over in Sharon’s phone. Then Pinky and Sharon started giggling for some odd reason.

“What?” Brain asked. He was presentable at a formal event now, wasn’t he?

“You’re kinda wearing it wrong,” Sharon admitted.

His ears flattened from embarrassment. Selenians typically wore practical jumpsuits with minimal accessories, and none of their databanks ever mentioned Terran outfits. They must’ve found it unimportant.  

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s an easy fix! May I?” Pinky exclaimed.

Brain nodded his permission, and Pinky removed the bow from Brain’s ear and carefully fastened it underneath his collar, taking great care to not pull the bow too tightly around his neck.

“So this isn’t a sash. It’s a cummerbund and you wear it around your stomach,” Pinky explained as he demonstrated the proper way to wear it. It was relieving to know Terrans made accessories that would hide the slight bulge, and Brain donned the cummerbund correctly.

The accessories really did match his orbs. For the first time, he was dressed to the nines and it was a glorious feeling indeed.

“Aw, you’re both so spiffy!” Sharon exclaimed. “Mind if I put a photo of this on the Twitter page to boost some interest?”

“We’ll return the favor,” Brain said. She deserved some reward for helping them out anyway.

Sharon turned her phone around, ready to snap the picture when Pinky suddenly darted out of frame. “Hold on! Narf!” he cried, shoving a small blue butterfly-themed mask into Brain’s hands and flipping a pink feathery mask over his face. “It’s a masquerade ball, you know!”

While Brain’s mask only covered the area around his eyes, Pinky’s face was mostly hidden by his birdlike mask, leaving only his bright blue eyes exposed.

“Doesn’t that tickle?” Brain inquired as Pinky stretched his boa out for a picture.

Pinky shrugged. “A little. But I don’t mind!”

“Smile for the camera, you guys!” Sharon grinned.

Brain didn’t smile, but he stood in front of the toy house while Sharon snapped pictures and Pinky struck a different pose with every shot.

Pinky’s laughter rang joyously in Brain’s ears.

He would leave that sound behind in just a few days. But it was a small price to pay for the world.

End AN: Maybe this chapter is a little disjointed, but oh well. Sharon is based off the toy store worker who helps the mice in Brain’s Night Off. 

I tried to do the math for the Monopoly game and even pulled out my Monopoly property cards so I could get the amounts correct, but if anything is inaccurate I am hereby excused from responsibility because I am a writer and not a mathematician. Yes i use that excuse every time but it’s true. 

Brain's outfit comes from the tuxedo he wore in the reboot's Future Brain episode. Pluto designed Pinky's outfit herself (somehow we both were thinking lots of pink feathers for Pinky) and deserves all the credit for it cause it's so beautiful. I chose a butterfly mask for Brain and a flamingo theme for Pinky.

[liam-93-productions]

Liam’s full interview with Tings Magazine - Part 2

Note: the interview was recorded in may 2020. 

You had the support system of Harry, Louis, Niall and Zayn during your teen years. When that support system stopped, having to deal with it by yourself, did that seem like a harder loss than it did leading up to that? It felt more like an identity crisis because that was like your crutch almost, being a part of the band. It got to the point where it was almost invincible. But that kind of got let go. I had serious questions about whether I wanted to be a solo artist. My thing was if the right song came then I wil, then obviously “Strip That Down” came along and I couldn’t really say no.  It’s a bit crazy, especially being released on such a pedestal. You don’t want to undo your legacy for what you set for yourself because you achieve so much so quickly. It’s kind of funny. I was playing poker the other day for a charity. Bryan Cranston and Aaron Paul and a couple of big Hollywood celebrities at this one table and me, which was the most random thing ever. They were like, “I’ve got questions that I like to ask people at the poker table. What was your first job?” Everyone was like I was a paperboy, or I was that, and I was like my first job was One Direction. And Bryan Cranston was like “You can’t really go anywhere from there. You’ve set yourself a hard task.” And I thought it was really funny, but it’s so true. One Direction was such a massive thing and I think we were all just existing since One Direction and in a sense, the hype of the comeback is the thing that’s kept us bubbling along. For sure, from that start, it was this massive identity crisis, you were a part of this unit and you knew how you fit in the unit. You knew the part that you played and as soon as that was gone, you couldn’t play the same role and carry on that way because the other units weren’t there to put it all together if that makes sense. So, you really had to try to discover who you were but in the public eye. That was stressful. 

How was that process for you, other than being stressful? How did you go about doing that? Really badly (laughs). 

Not at all. I disagree with that. You are very much different now than you were then. And you’ve grown into who you are now in a really amazing way. Was part of this identity something that was brewing during your time at One Direction. I feel like you hear Zayn do interviews and he’s been very clear about feeling different than how he’s been projected in One Direction and the identity that he’s become now. Was that the same case for you? Or was it more of a discovery process where you had no idea who you were when you left? Oh no, it was a complete discovery process. I mean if you look as simple as clothes. We were told what to wear at the start. It was like having four twin sisters. It was like ‘you can’t wear that’, ‘I’m wearing this’. So, we each got our thing. Mine was like plaid shirts. And for two years of my life, I just wore plaid shirts because that was my thing. Then we came out of that and went into this black phase where we all wore black t-shirts and black jeans or white t-shirts and black jeans. And when you come out of it and you don’t have to wear black t-shirts and jeans anymore, I was like, ‘what the hell do I wear?’ I went through a complete transition of clothes and different things. And that is only one element of your life, your appearance, what you look like.  For other things, for humor, you only experience the same humor for five years, around the same people. Then that changes. You meet other people. And we become more into the P.C. generation of things and it was like “we can’t say this anymore. We can’t do that”. And that was like another thing. As you try to develop, you make several mistakes. I went through the gangster rap phase. And it is the same with music as well. At first, it was like all the chains and rap, it was like escape the boyband scenario for me. 

The Miley Cyrus effect. The Disney to bad girl effect.  Exactly, I wanted to escape and identify myself differently. And I kind of pushed that to as many limitsas it could go to. Ever since then, as you get older, you realize that time is a wonderful thing. Instead of being on a race to be a certain someone because all your role models are so far ahead of you because they are already there, but they didn’t start there. For me, when I got into acting and doing auditions most recently, I started looking at actors that I love. Brad Pitt is one of my favorite, favorite people, you know, who’s transitioned to being the most amazing person, who has his own identity. I was thinking, how did he do it? So, I watched an interview of him at twenty-six. You have to watch it. He barely answers a question in the interview, you can’t believe it’s the Brad Pitt you see now. 

That’s thirty years of media training in between. Exactly! And this was when he did his first role. I already had my first role, being in One Direction, so I’m even further on than he was at my age. I don’t have to worry so much now I just have to have trust in the process of whatever life is, I know this sounds a little bit around about the house, but I just think you have to take a back seat and move steadily into things.  When you are a kid, you are in such a rush. You’re like I want it now. I want to be this guy. When I did my Hugo thing, it was all about muscles and training, and I was looking at Mark Wahlberg. And Mark Wahlberg is freakin’ Mark Wahlberg! It’s a taken him years and years to be Mark Wahlberg. It’s just where you set your sights for your role models, I guess. It’s the little thing that it has to come now and that’s what pop stardom is like, because you need it right now because you are already in it. I’m not waiting to come up, I’m already in it. 

Quick and constant. There’s this constant need to feed the system or you’re out of the system. Yeah, and it’s easier for artists nowadays. If you look at NSYNC, after they broke up, it was like, unfortunately, nobody really cared about what J.C. and the other boys were doing. So, they didn’t get the articles. Now, it’s like you are your own charge in that. You can be the front page of so-and-so if you really want to be. You just have to do the right thing on your channel. So, it’s like being able to be in charge of that stuff helps artists a lot more these days. But once again, that’s pressure because we are all in charge of our press and media from our phones. Whereas, they would have to go into work and have someone lay our the interviews or they wouldn’t get them. So, I suppose it’s a different type of pressure really. 

Yeah, and it’s a different landscape. They would have it laid out for them, and those interviews would last months and months, where today it’s like one day. Then it’s swipe up, swipe left, and onto the next thing. The lifespan of what we put out is so much shorter.  That’s the ting. I had TikTok out yesterday and I haven’t really invested a lot of time into something. But I made this really stupid song about cookies that went with my video. I literally just made this fun song in my house and we were like “Screw it” let’s make a music video for it. We did like one of those Lonely Island type videos and put it out. It’s one of the pieces of content that I cared about the most because I made the whole song and whatever. It was fun, and I wanted people to enjoy it the same way I did.  But even when you post something like that, I see some people where it just goes completely over their heads, that this is just a fun thing to look at. It doens’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean that my next album is going to be about freakin’ cookies or whatever. I think we’ve lost some of the lightheartedness, having to take ourselves so seriously all the time. It doesn’t make any sense to me. It’s like, you can view the average time that someone looked at a post, so it’s that cutthroat. If they stayed on for five seconds or whatever, the average time should be the full time and if it’s not, the post was bad. You have that power now, but it’s in seconds. Even the average time someone came on to look at it, it’s down to the seconds. 

You brought up the hype of a reunion and relevancy and keeping that alive. That interest. Where does that stand? There’s a lot of conflicting articles about a One Direction reunion. What can you say or not say, what’s the official word? To be honest with you, I keep mixing up the words reunion and anniversary. Our anniversary is coming up; it’s ten years that we created the band which is amazing. It’s a huge achievement for all of us. Every so often, I’ll accidentally say reunion and I’ll be like “oh my Dog, that conflicts another report.” I’ve been really clear that there’s not a reunion, just because I know music schedules. Harry just put out a music video and that’s got two years in it before we even think about a reunion. And I just don’t think everyone’s done yet. I think everyone’s enjoying their time, making their own workm that little bit of freedom. Um, and One direction is not exactly a side career that you can have. It requires you to be fully in it. Until we can all stop and commit to the band for whatever reason, I don’t think it can come back. I think there will be a reunion and I’m excited about it and I think it’s be a lot of fun. It will be interesting to see if we have the same essence that we had as kids. 

Essence meaning synergy on stage or camaraderie? I think a little bit of both. I mean One Direction was such a free time, and people enjoyed the fact that it was five lads on a stage having a good time. They didn’t care if we sang in tune or if we fell over. That’s what the show was about. It was chaotic. We’ve all become these more polished popstars. I don’t know if we have the same carefreeness about us, is what I’m worries about. But it’s been nice we’ve all been talking, staying in touch. It’s the first time that everyone’s spoken in the last five years. It’s just nice that everyone’s grown into being nice people. There’s none of them that I really hate. Everyone’s grown up into nice young men who just gone on a bit further from where you left them. 

Who are you closest to? Do you speak to any of them regularly? We have a big respect for each other. And I don’t think we give each other enough credit for how we’ve helped each other as well. I speak more to Louis and Niall than I do anybody else. I speak to Harry on occasion. I think we don’t have very much in common as people. There’s nothing wrong with us. We just don’t have as much in common. And Zayn, sadly, has fallen completely by the ... which is terrible. I feel for him sometimes, but at the same point, he made his decision on that. And it’s not something you can go back to lightly. If I saw him on the street, would I say hello? 100 percent. It doesn’t bother me, intrusively. I’ve already spoken about his great news. Having been through it myself, ... it’s interesting. I just think it’s a lonely scenario to be in, not being able to speak to the other people that helped you get to where you are. 

If you were to guess, or maybe you already know, would you see that reunion including Zayn or is that over and done with? I think it’s over and done with, for the time being. You can never fully discount it because you had the Robbie Williams Take That scenario. I remember watching that concert when I was in the band. It was so interesting that they were in a band, he left and had all the success he had, and came back. He had his own section of the show which I thought was interesting. They weren’t down in the dumps. They had some of the biggest hits in Britain. I don’t think you can fully discount it. I know for now it’s not possible. I think, for now, it would take certain people to admit wrong in a scenario and I don’t see that happening because they don’t even realize it yet. That’s a little further down the line. 

If a reunion happens, how do you think you would envision that creatively? Everyone has such different formed identities.  I actually think that we’ve picked up on that already, not knowing what is about to happen next. I remember from the tour screens from the very last tour. The introduction with the songs showed us on video doing different things. It set us apart ever so slightly. But I feel like if we came back together, it would be a celebration of what One Direction was, what is now, and each of the members. I think the tour screens would Harry is a completely different aesthetic that I was. I just think the band’s name is completely ironic because everyone has gone in opposite directions. Maybe, that’s the point of the name. I don’t know. Yeah, I just think it would fit back together quite seamlessly, for completely different reasons.