#need to draw more and that is the actual nightmare huh

[kinos-fortress-2]

i just woke up and realized my art did developed holy crap

[egophiliac]

buckle up lads we're going BACK INTO THE BOOK

[nu1lst4rs]

doodled human designs for nightmares gang!

click for better quality

ggrahhb. i love them. will draw individual refs soon. promise. cross has jumped between nightmares gang and star sanses, and therefore is considered a neutral outcode in our au. so ill draw him later.

horror fws the trans community

Star sanses, neutral aus (p1), neutral aus (p2), extras

some headcanons under cut 3_^

warning there is alot of text

> nightmare (they/it)

DESI NIGHTMARE!!!! (this is blatant self projection.)

short. but they always manipulate their height when they're outside of their gang because they hate being short.

chubby because its ass is not used to actual food, and they have a really slow metabolism when it isnt negativity. and now that horrors "forcing" it to eat, they gain weight. fast.

intersex. not sure why i think this but they don't really have a sex, so. erm.

^ adding onto that their fluid in their expression. sometimes masc, sometimes fem, sometimes andro.

has those stupid ass hair curlers and uses leftovers for their tentacles

MATCHING NECKLACES WITH MY OTP AT THE CURRENT MOMENT. usually errormare or bsp. sometimes fluffynight. killermare if nihira is fronting.

also sugar daddy nightmare. its either rich as fuck or have no money at all. (this is kindve a crack hc)

> Dust (he/they)

leaning korean and thai mix for him. because i need to see more mixed characters.

wears pjs whenever he can. gets the most fucking stupid pj pants too. like hello kitty. comfort > style.

always dusty. mostly because he doesn't shower and smells like ASS, but also because they gotta live up to their name somehow.

TRANS MASC. dont care if you say its wrong. EVERYONE IS TRANS. (excluding horror and blue. allies!)

aroace spec 100%. most sanses are, but him in particular. would rather die than do any of the sappy bs. but wouldd love to have a partner. or maybe 3. wink wink.

"2 shorter than killer but gaslights killer into thinking he's taller

doesn't wear papyrus' scarf, but keeps it in his sleeve.

> Horror (he/him)

wanna hc him as native american. but i haven't exactly thought much about what in particular.

tall and bulky. after a lonnggg famine, horror developed an ED. where they stress eat until he's physically ill, or feeling less stressed.

doesn't need the bandages on his face, bur keeps them there because he hates the scar

little big bottom teeth. its something he developed due to the food conditions in HT snowdin.

as much as it happens, horror HATES having blood on him, so he wears an apron underneath his clothes and does the laundry often.

PROSTHETIC LEG!!!! it got stuck in a bear trap when he was in his old au, and alphys didnt really know what else to do. its not the best thing, but its reliable. killer likes to put stickers on it.

has a cleaver named maxine, and an axe called rex.

ace because i dont really think. yeah. gross. ew. intimacy.

> killer (he/they/it)

arabic. its almost canon at this point.

has a selection of knifes in his thigh thing if his magic backfires on them. favourite is its butterfly knife.

is legally blind. his ass CANNOT see. refuses to admit this.

acespec because like look at me. he can barely feel. i just think he'd love the idea of being in a relationship, and desperately want one. but know he cant be in one.

scars galore holy shit. is always somehow simultaneously sloppy and precise with his knifework. him and nightmare have a small rivalry to see who can get the most.

needs to have textures on his clothes. something to ground themself. like "oh shit we're dissociating." rubs pants aggressively. works for us.

transb... transverse...

also DID but this is hinted at in canon

HUh. okay wow that was alot. cres shut up about utmv for 5 seconds (IMPOSSIBLE) (I DIED AFTER 1 SECOND). anyways THANK YOU!!! i will post and draw stars and neutrals tomorrow maybe. just after some sleep because it is 2am. bye everyone 3.<

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Howdy! So i saw your blog and your writing is really good!

Sorry for my weird english but may I request for the star sanses trio (coz these guys are really underrated but I like them so much) with a reader who is ver protective over them and has powers like godzilla, like, reader can transform into godzilla and fights alongside them against nightmares gang. I've had this idea lately after watching godzilla movies.

Thankiesss!

Don't worry about your English, its more basic than weird, unlike some people cough cough I'm talking about you Leticia cough cough , not sure if you meant romantic or platonic headcannos, so Blue and Dream ended up more romantic while ink can kinda be seen as both romantic and platonic.

Featuring: Blue, Dream and Ink.

Masterlist

Blue

"Don't mess with the Zilla... Obey the Zilla, BUZZILLA!!" Is definitely the first thing that comes to his mind, even if he doesn't have that much free time anymore to play games, he still remembers some of them.

Oh my traveler? You being protective of him? You're the one that should be protected! What if Nightmare tries to kidnap you?? He just doesn't want to feel weak.

He likes to run his fingers in circles on your scales for no apparent reason, he just enjoys it.

Has scars all over his body because of battles, he likes to say it's his version of scales.

Assuming you get really big in Godzilla form, he's sitting on your shoulder

Baked Godzilla like cookies and said "It's you but mini!", seems like the sily part of underswap sanses always stays the same, no matter what they've seen huh?

If you want to leave, he understands and respects your decision, of course you won't be seeing each other much but he'll always go to you in his free time!

Dream

Let's hope he can maintain this relationship longer than the last.

He's so happy that he has an extra hand to help around the multiverse! And with your powers it may turn everything way simpler!

Dream finds it cute when you're protective of him, makes him feel actually wanted around, even if a god like him doesn't really need protection, or does he?

He thought he could never experience love again, and yet here he is.

On the other hand if you want to leave? Oh no no no no no, you can't, he'll make everything to make you stay, just please don't leave, the multiverse needs you, he needs you.

Dream doesn't know when will be the next time he'll see you, it'll take days, weeks, months, fuck- maybe even years for him to allow himself to take a break!

Truth be told he starts bugging you about why you want to leave, something happened in your AU? You feel too much pressure? What is it!?

He just wants you with him... So Please.. just stay.

Ink

Almost died when you turned into a Godzilla, definitely didn't look up and almost was crushed if it wasn't for Blue-

He finds it pretty cool, even if he forgets it and you have to remind him to NOT get close to you on Godzilla form.

Randomly draws you and him, sometimes you saving him in Godzilla or normal form, others it's just cute little doodles he thinks you'd like.

Doesn't get why you're protective of him, it's not like his soul will be harmed! Ha ha... Heh...

Doesn't really care if you leave it not, it's your choice after all, but be aware he won't be able to see you as much.

At the end of the day he doesn't have real feelings, so everything you see is only a facade, remember that, traveler.

[tgmsunmontue]

Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 12/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN

TWELVE

                “I’m still technically on leave,” Jake muses, wonders if he’s expected to cut it short. Definitely a question for Admiral Kazansky when he’s less busy talking to Captain Mitchell. He wonders if he’ll ever get to the point where he’s comfortable using their callsigns like Bradley is.

                “Me too. And yet we’re both standing around in our khakis. Well. Borrowed khakis in your case.”

                “Yeah. Looking forward to getting out of them.”

                “Yeah, me too. Uh. Yeah.”

                “How about we blow this joint and go grab some food. Think Bronco is ready to leave?” Jake asks, glancing at Bradley, noticing that he must have gotten sunburnt during the day judging from his pink face. Also he’s a little impressed with himself having already shifted from calling Bronco simply Bronco, rather than the Bronco.

                “He does look pretty engaged with whatever Starscream is saying, but can’t hurt to ask. Not like we can go anywhere if he isn’t…” Bradley adds under his breath and Jake laughs.

                “I can just drive us in the truck… going to have to drive it home actually. Huh. Yeah,” Jake muses, because that’s a logistical nightmare with Jetfire in the back. Then again it’s no longer his problem, surely that was the whole purpose of this meeting was to figure that out. “Actually, I’m going to change. Got a spare set of clothes in the truck. You go and talk to Bronco…”

                Bradley nods and sets off toward them, leaving Jake to watch him walk away and he does watch, admires the view because Bradley’s legs seem long but he also seems to strut; doesn’t walk the same way as so many of the military men and women Jake knows. It’s unusual enough to draw his eye. He glances away, only to find both Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell looking at him, and he flushes; hopes they can’t see from how far away they are. He turns and walks toward the truck, calls it a strategic retreat rather than running away.

…            …            …

                Bradley is glad that Bronco is more than ready to leave, his patience with dealing with Starscream clearly not infinite; also he can tell Starscream is maybe holding back from hitting Bronco. Definitely time for them to have a break from one another. He does insist on heading back to Ice’s place. If Jake is walking around in civvies he’s definitely not going to spend a second longer in uniform than he has to.

                Ice and Mav follow them; he dodges Mav’s attempts of trying to talk, mumbles about going out to get something to eat and maybe catching a movie with Jake. Hopefully that’ll mean he can put off talking to him for another day. Still needs time to process the bombshell that Bronco dropped, figure out if it changes anything other than his relationship with Mav and Ice. He takes the spare key and tells them they’ll be back in a few hours and to not wait up, which gets him some spluttering from Mav and a quietly amused look from Ice but he doesn’t care.

                They go to a diner and order burgers, Jake ordering an extra side of onion rings and a lime milkshake which Bradley wrinkles his nose over but then has to admit isn’t completely awful when Jake insists he try some. They have heaps of time to kill so they walk to the movie theater, which Bronco seems a little incensed about, however Bradley can’t stop thinking about his mom not wanting him to fly. He’s been flying for a couple of years now, his hard work and sheer stubbornness bleeding into spite to prove Maverick wrong only to find out that it’s not what has been the reason all along. And of course he cares about what his mom wanted for him, but he doesn’t know if he cares about the happiness of a dead woman over his own and living the life he wants.

                “What would you do?”

                “Uh… about what?” Jake asks, and Bradley realizes he’s been holding an entire conversation in his head as they walked in silence.

                “Shit. Sorry. Just… If you found out that your parents didn’t want you to do something and you went and did it anyway?”

                Jake chuckles then and pulls a face, shrugs a little and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.

                “Uh… I did exactly that. My parents weren’t thrilled at the idea of me joining. Were dead set against it in fact. My uncle is still blamed to this day for making me dream of flying. He’s a crop duster, but at least his career is farming adjacent.”

                “Your family are farmers?”

                “Farmers or ranchers. Apart from my uncle I’m the only one that has ever left the state for more than a vacation.”

                “Oh.”

                “Yep.”

                “And they…”

                “They’ve learnt to deal with it. It’s my life. Not theirs. They get worried, but unless you’re going to shut yourself away there’s inherent risk in day-to-day life right?”

                “Yeah, I guess so.”

                “I know so. And now we have Transformers as part of our day-to-day lives, and if that isn’t the craziest and most amazing thing…”

                “Are your parents proud of you though?”

                Jake blinks.

                “Yeah. Yeah of course they’re proud of me. They want me to be happy. Of course they wish I could be happy living within a few clicks of home, but that was never going to be me…”

                “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

                “I always am…”

                Bradley rolls his eyes, which Jake catches and laughs at, bumping his shoulder on purpose as they walk.

…            …            …

                Jake stares at the selection of movies, knows what he wants to go and see, but Bradley hasn’t even looked at the poster he doesn’t think. Instead he’s looking at the brightly colored poster featuring dozens if not hundreds of balloons.

                “A kids movie? Really? I was thinking the Star Trek or Fast and Terminator?”

                “Spaceships blowing up or robots killing people… both a little too close to home. I want… something happy. It’s a kid’s movie, guaranteed happy ending right?”

                Jake looks at the movie posters again, wonders how suggesting Angels and Demons would go over. Huh. Actually maybe a kids movie is a good idea.

                “Fine. But maybe Night at the Museum? I enjoyed the first movie…”

                “We can do both. I don’t want to go back and have to talk to Maverick.”

                “Oh. Okay. Sure. We can do two movies…”

                “Thanks. Not ready to hash it over with him yet…”

                “But you’re okay talking to a complete stranger?” Jake asks as they approach the ticket booth.

                “Yeah, you’re not emotionally invested. Maverick and Ice are… well, they’re the only family I have. And as I said, I haven’t really spoken to them in eight years. It feels… awkward.”

                “Oooh,” Jake says. “Right. Got you. I can help run interference if you like? I’ve had plenty of practice.”

                Bradley laughs at that, but doesn’t ask him what with, instead buys two tickets and tells Jake he can grab snacks. He bites back the comment about Bradley already being one, because friends. That’s what he’s aiming for here. Like Javy. Another bro. Right. He can manage that, is going to have to because they’re going to be working together for the foreseeable future and he’s not going to fuck up his career before it’s even started.

…            …            …

                Jake talks during the trailers and Bradley hopes like hell he’s not they type of person that talks through the entire movie, will reach over and cover his mouth with his hand if he has to.

                “Okay… that kind of looks funny. Do you think Admiral Kazansky is a fan of all the ice-themed movies that have been coming out? That’s the third one right?”

                “I don’t know. You can ask him.”

                Fortunately when the movie starts proper Jake falls quiet, which makes him relieved. Then he wonders what the hell kind of kids’ movie this is, tears prickling at his eyes and for fucks sake, he wanted a movie that was going to be happy and lighthearted and now he’s crying. Just has to hope Jake doesn’t notice. Of course that’s when Jake talks, but he’s sniffing and it makes Bradley feel better.

                “Fucking hell, I don’t remember kids’ movies packing such emotional gut punches when I was a kid…”

                Bradley hums in agreement, doesn’t want to actually encourage the talking. Fortunately the movie does actually become funnier, although Jake’s under-the-breath comments about a flying house being next on the Navy’s list of aircraft to acquire forces Bradley to hide a bark of laughter. It’s a better movie than he was expecting, although it’s also not the happy and funny movie he was after, it is too much of an emotional rollercoaster to make him feel settled. As he watches Carl watch his house drift away he swallows against the tightness in his throat and thinks about his own dream of flying, and how giving it up because of anyone is ridiculous. Fucking hell, he was not expecting to become so reflective after seeing a kids’ movie.

                They file out of the theatre with the other movie goers, Jake insists on getting the tickets for the next movie, both of them using the bathroom and getting more popcorn. This time he’s prepared for Jake’s chatter during the trailers, and he’s less annoyed now, knowing it’ll stop once the movie starts. He lets Bradley know which movies he wants to go and see, and when there’s a trailer for a romcom featuring Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds he hears Jake hum and he grins into the darkness. The second movie is definitely funnier and less emotionally charged than the first, which is a relief.

…            …            …

                “Well, it’s past eleven. You think we’ve stayed out late enough for you to avoid talking to everyone?” Jake asks as they head outside, wonders what Bradley is doing as he looks up and down the street.

                “How the fuck did we see two movies that both featured flying in them so heavily?”

                “The first movie was called Up, that should have been a clue. Also that movie should come with a fucking warning. And wait, where are you going? We parked that way.”

                “Yeah. That way if your ride can’t just move itself whenever it wants. He’s just down there,” Bradley says, pointing. Sure enough Jake can now see Bronco sitting about five cars away, and now it’s clear Bradley knew exactly what he was looking for.

                “Holy shit that’s useful. Bet you’ve never had a parking ticket.”

                “Huh… no. I haven’t. I’ve always…”

                “Let me guess. Little goody-two-shoes, always following the rules…”

                “Yeah. Can’t really risk bringing negative attention to myself.”

                “Fair,” Jake concedes, because as much as he might poke fun, he’s very much the same, his years at USNA drilling that into him, along with DADT making him cautious. The fact that Bradley knows, and Admiral Kazansky and likely Captain Mitchell… and Jake feels fine with them all knowing tells him he’s come a decent way from his fear and shame of his teen years. Not that he can do anything about it with DADT in effect, however knowing that others have managed to have long and meaningful relationships under DADT make him more hopeful at least.

                “Useful to have though…” Jake adds as he slides into the passenger side and Bradley grins.

                “You have no idea. Bronco here is the best, has let me get away with forgetting my keys, never putting in gas… drives while I sleep.”

                “Huh. That’s pretty amazing.”

                “I'm amazing; I'm incredible. I'm a miracle, a dream come true. I'm marvelous; I'm beautiful,” sings a voice from the radio suddenly and Jake startles a little.

                “And so humble with it too…” Bradley says with a laugh, patting the dash and Jake laughs, a little nervously, having forgotten that Bronco was… there as well.

                “That how you guys communicate?”

                “When he’s not transformed. I never saw him transformed until the same time you did… But yeah. Song lyrics have been our communication method all these years.”

                “That’s so fucking cool… wild huh?”

                “Yeah. Pretty wild.”

…            …            …

                They get back to Admiral Kazansky’s house, and like Bradley had been hoping for all the lights are off. Bradley opens the garage door and Bronco parks up before shifting to bump against Dustdrift, who almost goes flying given their size differential. They say goodnight and Jake is starting to feel the events of the day catching up with him, and tomorrow he will figure out what the logistics are for getting Jetfire to Fallon, his families horse truck back to Texas, and then how he’s going to spend the rest of his leave and then how he’s going to get to Fallon himself.

                “Uh… did you want to share again or go use the other guest room?”

                Jake blinks at the out-of-the-blue question, wonders if he can use the same reason, about not wanting to dirty up more linen than necessary. Except he feels that maybe he could share with Bradley that he sleeps better with other people around, except he’s also trying to lay mental boundaries around being friends.

                “Too quiet right?” Bradley asks and Jake lets out a breath of relief that he’s said it.

                “Yeah. Exactly.”

                “It’s all good. I’m used to sharing.”

                “Oh. Uh. Won’t they mind?”

                “Huh?”

                “You’re uh… boyfriend? Girlfriend? Person you usually share with?” Jake asks, because that’s how he’s taking that statement; and seriously, if Bradley has someone then it’ll make Jake’s life easier putting some boundaries in place.

                “Oh! No. No. I mean… I’m used to sharing space too. I share a bed with my best friend sometimes, but she’d have my balls if I ever referred to her as… well… anything. I think sometimes she even denies knowing me, let alone being my friend.”

                Jake laughs, because he’s sure that Javy sometimes does the same.

                “Cool. I’m just going to have a shower. You want the bathroom first?”

                “Nah, it’s all good. I’ll go down the hall and brush my teeth.”

                When Jake comes out of the shower Bradley is curled up fast asleep, despite all the lights still being on. He takes the opportunity to just look his fill before shaking his head and turning off the lights.

THIRTEEN

[howlsofbloodhounds]

You ever thought about the fact that, if Killer retains his SAVE, LOAD, and RESET abilities he's, like, basically a necromancer but for whole ass universes?

Like, he could genuinely go into any universe, reset it to Frisk's fall, kill them for good (aka convince the Player that their game is bugged by spawn killing them until they give up), and voila! The universe is fixed!

Like, I don't think he'd actually do it (especially considering the fact that to him Players are basically gods and he doesn't seem to want to challenge them) but I do think that if this possibility is ever revealed to others there are quite a few people who'd try to pressure him into it.

Perhaps not, like, Dust. 'Cause he's already too far gone to think there's any fixing his universe. But what about Horror or Cross? (It probably wouldn't work with Cross since there is some far greater bullshittery going on there, but he'd definitely nag at Killer until he at least tries).

I'm firmly of the belief that Color would never pressure him into it. But what if word spreads? What if it reaches Dream? He definitely could use something like that, and it would be for the greater good. I don't even think the pressure from him would be malicious, but Killer's not in the mental state to take it well.

And if the rumor spreads to someone like Error, he may be incentivized to get rid of him. As for Nightmare, he'd probably double his efforts to yoink him back.

I also don't think that Killer would be a fan of using any of those powers since they're heavily related to Chara and his trauma. Like, no matter how this goes, no matter if he agrees to help or not, he's gonna have a shit time.

Holy hell, no matter where this guy goes, someone just always wants to use him as their weapon, huh. Can’t he ever just catch a break.

And id imagine both the idea of going against Players, saying no to saving universes (because he’s trying to be “good” now and “good” people would save universes right?), and actually saving universes which actively goes against what he was made for would create an absolute shitstorm of psychological, mental, emotional and behavioral regression in killer.

color is definitely gonna have to step up and defend killer against being used again. killer is already struggling to think of himself as a person let alone a “good” person, it’d be so easy to guilt trip him when he’s in stage 1–knowingly and intentionally or not. And it’d be so easy to take advantage of him once he’s in Stage 2 and too apathetic to care about his own well being.

Because yes it would definitely improve his standing in the eyes of the multiverse and it could do a lot of good, but not only would it draw in more people who want to use him, and would once again set him back to viewing himself as a weapon. Different from a killing machine, but still nonetheless someone’s machine.

He’s already struggling under Nightmare to not kill, because the Boss needed people alive for negativity and yet killing is Stage 4’s first instincts.

And putting him in a similar situation as the one with Chara and Nightmare is just asking for his soul to tip over into Stage 4 permanently and completely losing himself. Perhaps this is the situation that sends him mentally regressing back to the early days with Chara even.

{ @stellocchia }

[icanwriteitblindfolded]

You’re Safe with Me

Eddie Munson + Reader

*Warning* discussions of attempted sexual assault and rape, suicidal thoughts and strong language. Strangers, to friends to eventual lovers. Soft fluffy Eddie Munson.

Summary: Eddie decides to find a way to cheer you up with some horror movies and candy.

Part Three:

You looked at the selection but it was picked over by kids and parents who decided to stay home tonight to watch something scary to fit the mood. Your eyes fell on a few options, Prom Night, My Bloody Valentine, The Shining and The Exorcist; the later one you never could finish because you always found yourself falling asleep and missing the majority of the movie.

“Anything catching your eye?” You held the options out for Eddie to pine over himself, he looked at them with his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Your seen him doing that when he was working his campaigns or drawing a demon on his notebook; it was something you did occasionally as well but with you it looked goofy, with Eddie it was kind of cute.

“Well I’m up for anything, just so long as you don’t get too scared.” “I’ll have you know Munson I have seen four of these by myself and never had a single nightmare!” He gave you that cocky smile again and put his hands behind his back dancing in place. “Oh yeah? Even the exorcist huh? No fleeing to a church or begging for forgiveness from the lord?” “Nope, I actually find that one to be a bit slow and so is the shining. Everyone gets so scared but it’s not even remotely terrifying. I like the style and cinematography but they’re not the most terrifying movie I’ve seen.” His eyebrows raised in curiosity; “What would be the most terrifying movie you’ve ever seen?” “I haven’t found one that’s actually scared me, so perhaps you could make a better selection.” “But it’s your choice remember.” “Munson, pick out a few movies for me while I run to the ladies room. When I come back I’ll look them over.” He nodded and began to excavate the collection of tapes.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, streaks of mascara and eyeliner had run down your face, the glossy gold eyeshadow on your cheeks was patchy and not as defined as it had been earlier. You took a paper towel and soaked it to rub off the makeup. Slowly revealing your face as it usually looked. Red and blotchy from the acne scars, the pale eyes that you usually rimmed with black liner and the pale chapped lips that were so small they were barely without the lipstick you had on tonight. You reached in your bag and touched up your face to look more like your usual self, tugging the pants Eddie had given you higher up around your waist to keep them from falling. You looked back to face the reflection again; it wasn’t anything spectacular but at least you looked like you again.

When you walked out you saw Eddie sprawled on the ground like a child as he looked at his lineup of films. He leaned against his arm as he pondered the selection, unaware he was being watched. He looked up and smiled at you. “I think I have a few options you might like.” You took a spot next to him, his body was hot next to yours, somehow he had worked up a sweat just looking at the movies. You ignored the heat radiating off him and looked at the tapes. American Werewolf in London, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Fog, The Evil Dead, Prom Night, Phantasm and The Thing.

All good, all movies you had seen, and just straight up blood and gore for some. “Can we pick more than one?” Eddie smiled “Absolutely, pick whatever you want, you need some cheering up and I’m just here for the popcorn.” You grabbed the entire collection and ran to the counter. “Hey now! I assumed you meant three!” Eddie laughed and followed after you; Robin turned around and began to scan the tapes for you both, her eyes darted from you to Eddie and back to the tapes a couple times. She looked back towards Steve who was still trying to place labels on the covers.

“So big night for you two huh?” You looked at her, it wasn’t a judgemental comment just idle curiosity, after all while you and Eddie hadn’t been together in an official capacity there was still some sort of connection between you that was not yet defined. “And obviously going to be a rather disgusting one at that.” Robin’s face grimaced as she seen the creature on the back of the Thing. You laughed and threw Eddie a look, he wasn’t paying much attention to you, his eyes were fixed on the candy selection as he tried to decide what he wanted. “He’s just cheery me up. Had a bit of a rough night.” “Did you hear about Chris’ party?” You hesitated as Robin placed the tales in a bag and waited on Eddie to make up his mind. “About the party itself or didn’t something else happen?” Robin smiled and leaned over just for you to hear, “Kate came in and told us he was planning something to the extent of a big orgy and was trying to see how many of his friend could get with her. She heard about it and spread the word. By this time tomorrow Chris McDowell will no longer be the most popular guy in Hawkins.” “Because that title is mine.” Steve chirped in, still focused on his task but apparently aware of the customers.

“What candy do you want L/N? I’m a Reese’s pieces guy myself, do you want M&M’s, milk duds, snow caps, dots, Mike & Ikes, Good and Plenty…” “I’ll have peanut M&M’s and milk duds Eddie.” “Interesting.” He placed the selection along with a bag of popcorn. Robin rang them up and gave you the total, Eddie had a membership card to get the movies and paid the $7.50 for the snacks. “You two have a good night.” “You too.” You said as the two carried on with their work. Eddie opened your door again and handed you the bag.

“Okay, you ready?” You looked at the clock on the dash, 8:30, as far as mom knew you were going to be out until 10 or 11 at the latest. Just so long as you got home before midnight she was fine with it. “You sure it’s okay if I come over?” “No it’s cool. My uncle is at work now until around 3 so it would just be us. You think you can handle being alone with the freak that long?” “I’m presently alone with you right now, and I have to be home by 11. So one movie or two.” “Sounds good.” You laughed and glanced back towards the video store, Robin and Steve were laughing as they cleaned up Eddie’s mess and began to close the store. “I might be able to call my mom and see if I can stay out with a friend for a bit longer, maybe 12 at the latest.” You smiled as Eddie roared out of the parking lot to head back to his trailer.

You’d never set foot in these parts of Hawkins but you didn’t have a fear about it. You probably should be worried because Eddie was taking you somewhere he knew but you didn’t, yet so far he was probably the most decent man you ever been near. He led you into the trailer and began to pick up a few clothes and dishes that were strewn around the room, it was messy and smelled of stale cigarettes. Smaller than your living room at home and even your mom’s bedroom, but it was cozy. Eddie ran back to the bedroom and brought out a pair of men’s boxers; you glared back at him. “I’m I figured these would fit better than my pants and I thought you would rather wear these than that. Unless you want to keep my jeans?” “The jeans are fine, thank you. I could use a belt though if you have an extra one?” He ran to the room and came back with a black leather belt that had an odd clip to hold it.

“Are those… handcuffs?” He laughed, “Yeah, I used to be into magic so I had them lying around; cheaper than buying a new belt you know.” “Eddie the magnificent! Has a nice ring to it, you still know any tricks today?” “Nothing of merit, and it’s kind of dorky.” “Eddie you play Dungeons and Dragons, and read the Lord of The Rings; you’re already a bit of a dork.” “Yes but I’m a sexy dork; magic doesn’t make you sexy.” “You underestimate yourself Munson.” You were amazed how coolly you said it. He smiled and made his way over to the microwave as you adjusted the belt on the jeans.

“You want your M&M’s mixed in the popcorn or would you just like it straight?” “Good question, I’ve never put them in the popcorn before but you can add it in there if you want.” He smiled and poured a small amount in the bowl and gave it to you before dumping the entire bag of Reese’s pieces in his and going to put one of the tapes in. You looked at the slight peak of boxers showing out of his jeans, averting your eyes to one of the hats on the wall. “Wow, must like baseball huh?” “My uncle Wayne is the fan, he used to play baseball and was hoping to get into the minor leagues.” “Really?” “Yeah then he had an accident and couldn’t play anymore. But you ask him anything about baseball and he knows it.” “What about you?” “I’m into music and art. You know the nerdy things.” “That’s not nerdy, it’s just creative. And I’ve seen those things you draw in class and heard you play your guitar. You’re a talented guy yourself Eddie.” He stood up and walked over to the sofa taking the spot beside you, resting the bowl of popcorn onto his lap and nestling into the cushions. “Not enough to get out of Hawkins.”

“Where would you like to go?” “I’d love to play the Whiskey A Go Go in LA, maybe Maddison Square garden, shredding my guitar and making my name.” “What else?” “What else would there be?” “You ever thought about having a family? Or where you would live?” Eddie took a handful of the popcorn in his mouth, the crunch covering the silence. “Have you?” “A little, I mean I don’t think I’ll be able to do much after school, I never really assumed I’d have a great career. Kids? Once upon a time I liked the idea of it and same with marriage; but realistically I wont make it that far. I’m lucky if I make it to twenty.” “How so?” “I just don’t feel there’s much of a life for me.”

Eddie paused and a knowing look crept onto his face, he set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and curled his right leg on the couch before scooting closer to you. “What do you mean?” “Eddie, I know my circumstances and they’re not great. What’s the point of it?” “Don’t say that. I’m sure things are not as bad as you think they are right now.” “Eddie Chris McDowell tried to assault me tonight. Everyone in school will hear about this tomorrow and I’m going to be the town slut after this.” “He didn’t do anything, and I know that. Robin said that Kate found out what he was intending so I’m sure Chris will be the one everyone will be talking about not you.”

You glanced at the tv, the ghosts on the ship coming out to slowly take one victim at a time. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Eddie still staring at you. “F/N, you know I am here if you want to talk.” “Eddie listen you are really sweet for this. The movies, the ride, the clothes; I mean it’s all been very sweet. But would you have spoken to me if you didn’t see the circumstances that you found me in?” He began to play with a lock of his hair, twisting it between his fingers and splitting it in half. “I know who you are L/N. I always sit near you and always find myself… looking at you when your nose is deep in a book. You like to read gothic horror stories like Edgar Allen Poe or H.P Lovecraft. And you always smell like this sweet floral perfume, I’ve never smelled anything like that but it’s probably my favorite smell in the world. You like to drink tea not coffee and you sneak cigarettes when you think no one is looking.” “But would you talk to me or do any of this?”

Eddie brought his face dangerously close to yours, his voice lowered to a whisper. “I have been trying to work up the courage to ask you out on a date for god knows how long, mind you this wasn’t exactly how I imagined the situation would be. I mean I was hoping you would be at that party so I could maybe get the chance to talk to you.” He smiled and took in a deep breath, his hands taking yours. “Then you ran into me and yeah that wasn’t ideal.” You shook your head and wiped a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “But I knew you needed someone, I didn’t want to see you hurt like this so I’ve been doing my best to cheer you up. I guess I’m pretty lousy at this huh?” “No you’re a natural.”

He stopped the tape and got up to take it out, you followed him over to the tv and stood between the two. “Listen Eddie, back at the video store. When we were in the car and you said you thought I was pretty…” A blush began to form on the tip of his nose, making his freckles pop and him looking like a strawberry. “Did you, I mean were you?” He looked up with those big brown eyes under a mop of curly bangs. “Were you wanting to kiss me?” He hesitated and put the tape back in its case before placing another in the player.

“Honestly? Yes.” You felt your heartbeat in your stomach, drew in a sharp breath and began to inch closer to Eddie’s face. “But I can’t.” You pulled back, the space between you now wide enough for another person. “Oh. Why not?” “Because you deserve better than this.” “Better than you, you mean?” “A little, but also after what happened to you I didn’t think it was right to try and make a move on you.” “Really?” “Yeah, you deserve to be treated better than what you were tonight, you should decide if a man kisses you or takes you out or…”

You pulled his face to yours and planted your lips on his for a deep kiss; he tensed up at first before his body softened and he pulled you closer to him, his tongue darting around your mouth and his lips soft like rose petals. You pulled away and he released you; both your faces were bright red and you’re out of breath.

“What was that?” “You said I should decide what happened to me, so I was just taking the matter into my own hands.” “You mean, you wanted me to kiss you?” “Honestly Eddie I think you’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted to kiss me. You think you want to try it again?” “Hell yes!” He wrapped you in his arms and carried you over to the sofa, the movies and the earlier events long forgotten between the two of you. All you wanted was to have Eddie kissing you until daybreak, and he would happily take that challenge.

[stromulites]

The Window to You, The Other

okay this is like, semi related. Pre-RGBverse stuff let's call it. My adhd addled brain can't figure out if it's consistent or not or if the convo jumps around too much but i also,,,,,kinda too tired to bother now, jkerlsdg.

Word Count: 1446

Hannah (IDU!gf) and BJ (IDU!bf) talk :) it's completely normal.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sometimes it’s better, sometimes it’s worse. But whether he wants it or not, the smoke stings in his throat and burns in his lungs. A too bright fire flashes in his vision, his eyes already too dry to see anything beyond the white, black, and licks of orange dancing in mockery. 

He’s dying, he belatedly recognizes. He’s dying, and someone killed him. 

“Your death is an unrighteous one.” He hears Grayson say, days later when he finally stops running away. The older Reaper hangs over him like a vulture, eyeing its prey sprawled out on an open field. “...Come with me.”

The burning never goes away. It crawls on his skin and leaves him hating it. A persistent itch lingers in his lungs. The air hangs thick with black smoke and the scent of burning plastic. It’s his death all over again. He’s dead but it’s like his mind hasn’t fully caught up with the fact. 

So like a rat in a wheel, it goes. And goes. And goes and goes and—

“BJ…? BJ! Liam!”

He jolts awake, body spasming as he immediately falls off of the bed he’s borrowing and onto the expensive hardwood floor. Between the mess that he’s made himself and the light thump of his landing, he’s no worse for wear thankfully.

Where the hell was he again…?

“...BJ?” Hannah’s face looks down at him from atop her bed, worry written all over her face. “...Are you okay?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah?” He replies, drawing a smile onto his face as he pulls himself upright. “Why?”

She doesn’t look convinced.

“You were having a nightmare again, weren’t you?”

He deflates instantly. Well, that’s kind of on him for trying to lie to his girlfriend.

“Kinda. Reapers aren’t supposed to really sleep, y’know?” he relents, averting his gaze. At least he doesn’t get the morning sleep haze like he used to. “...how long did I…?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Just ten or so minutes. Come here, you dummy,” she patted the mattress, inviting him back. “I’m still picking that new full body mirror my parents want me to replace, remember?.”

Instead of actually getting on the bed, BJ shuffles closer and sets his chin on the edge of the mattress. To accommodate, Hannah rotates her laptop halfway so that they both are able to see the screen.

“...They’re all so expensive.” Is his immediate reaction, seeing prices all the way to a thousand on the curated list Hannah had been given. 

Her parents were still the same, after all; absolute control freaks in ever minute detail. BJ’s not sure how much energy they would need to micromanage all this, or how they have it at all. Seemed like a complete waste of time.

“...Not really? They’re only three-hundred dollars. That’s still on the lower end. My old one was in the five hundreds.”

He makes a face at that statement. Sometimes he forgets that she was also immensely rich and not raised in a frugal, stingy household like he was. 

“Still, I didn’t think that Sebastian would destroy the old one,” Hannah remarked offhandedly as she continued down the list. “He seemed…fun, if a little gross.”

BJ winced. It was technically more of his fault, since he had riled up the older Reaper. But only because he would budge on who ‘Pinnochio’ was. Honestly he should’ve asked Rammy to accompany him. At least she was reasonable about her outbursts, and was liable to smash something out of nowhere. 

‘Mommy issues: old man version.’ Not that Fafnir could be measured on a human age scale, but everything about her had promptly flew over his head. 

“This one looks like my old one,” Hannah said, snapping him out of his musings as she pointed to her screen.

“...isn’t it kind of small?” He scoots further onto the bed to get a better look at the screen. 

“I mean, maybe? But it has a wooden frame and backing. Maybe it’ll stand up to a little beating. Plus, it’s not like you need to walk through it to get to your…spooky dead people land, right?” She jabs, smiling. 

“Why would I need a mirror for that…?” he asks, genuine confusion setting in.

“I’m just joking, BJ. There’s a lot of media that uses mirrors as portals is all.” She pushes the laptop aside after shutting it off. “TVs too. I guess anything with a screen can be a conduit to the supernatural.”

“In fiction,” he amends.

“Yes, in fiction,” she agrees. “...How is that side doing, by the way?”

“Huh?” He sits up a little straighter.

“You know. With Sebastian. I know Grayson left recently, but I don’t know what that really means for you. You don’t really talk about him now. You used to whine all the time about how he wasn’t letting you steal his coat or taught you something new.”

“Them,” he corrects as a habit. “It’s um…” he wrestles with the words to talk about it. 

“You’re doing that thing with your hands again…” Hannah says, pointing out his fidgeting fingers in his lap. “...is it that bad?”

“No! It’s not bad, I still see them. They’re not gone or anything,” he crossed his arms. 

“And the others?”

That question was harder to answer.

“...I dunno. I don't really go to Veilside anymore. Everyone I give a shit about is here; you, Grayson, my parents...”

“What about Sebastian?” Hannah asks.

“He’s a Reaper. I don’t need to look out for him,” he replies defensively. The skull-headed man was downright obnoxious to be around, what with the constant teasing and jokes that might as well come from a twelve-year-old’s mouth. The guy was at least five hundred…

“Rammy?”

“She’s busy.” Looking out for her still living family and all. Truthfully, they were both doing the same thing, so he can understand.

“Grayson…?”

“I told youuuuu, they’re not a Reaper anymore! They’re doing like…rehab or something. I dunno,” he mumbled the last part. He last visited maybe two weeks ago now, back when they first woke up. Not sure what they were doing now, but they were probably fine without him.

Hannah only sighed at the rebuttals, weak as they were.

“Is there really nothing better for you to do other then…haunting me?”

“Hey! I go out and do other things!”

“For three days out of a seven day week, because I made you.” She immediately pointed out, an unimpressed look directed at him.

“Guh.” He wilted.

“...I’m just worried okay? Not that dying but still being around is normal or anything, but you’re always around me and I don’t hear about how you’re doing. You weren’t even this clingy before the accident.” She kneels down on the ground and pries his hand out of the deathgrip he has himself in. Her hand is warm, as it usually is nowadays, and BJ finds himself reluctantly letting her have it. “So can you tell me why?”

He could just brush it off, take his hand back, and go back to being a shithead about his own feelings. But it’s just Hannah. She has a right to know, wouldn’t she? 

“...I have to be around when you die, y’know?” He lets himself say, “So your soul doesn’t drift off and—”

Not that the universe wants him to finish, anyways.

The shrill call of his girlfriend’s ringtone cuts through the air, drowning him out. He falls quiet anyways, as she has to answer it. There’s only two people still living in this world that have her number, afterall, and they’re the kind of people who don’t like to wait.

Hannah’s face is stone still as she listens. The call cuts without her having said a single word beyond a simple noise of affirmation.

“Sorry, I have to go. They’re…parked in the front already. Tell me next time?” She says, standing up. He stands up with her and follows her to the bedroom door.

“...yeah. Okay.” Regret and guilt stings his lungs, but he keeps himself from coughing. 

The door closes, leaving him in an empty house. The warmth of her hand was already leaving his, even as he held it against his chest. A chest filled with ash and soot and that no longer intakes air, of a heart that no longer beats, of flesh that isn’t warm. 

‘...I don’t want you ending up as demon fuel, with no one to guide you.’ He finishes for no one in particular.

He supposes he’ll follow her around now. Just out of reach, but ready if the worst comes to past. It’s the least he can do after going back on his word, after all, even if the circumstances were completely out of his hands.

[captainofthedauntless]

More Rise!Nardo thoughts.

Just thinking about how he'd abuse the fuck out of his portal abilities with you. Always offering to be your "ride" when you need to go somewhere, using it as an excuse to see you for just a minute when you're busy. The classic you're upset? oh lol i just Happened To Pop By A Shop, Here, Your Favorite Snacks.

He'd show up in a heartbeat to help you move furniture, or to help you cook, or to help you speed clean because your aunt's in town all of a sudden and you cannot let her know you live like this.

You don't think anything of it, really. Because it's effortless for him. It's like getting up from the couch for how much energy it takes him.

But it gets to be a habit.

It's a pattern.

You text him after a long day, once, and you say something about being tired and not wanting to cook, and then he's in your kitchen with a crackle of blue energy and a bag of take out and a hoodie he pulls off less than five minutes later, passing it to you with an easy shrug and a nonchalant smile. Lot warmer in here than the lair, he says breezily, as though it isn't your favorite of his hoodies. As though it was an accident.

He does that a lot, you realize. Act as though calculation is coincidence.

And then you can't stop realizing it.

It's not just the portals.

It's everywhere.

He's everywhere.

He's spending enough time at your place that he just leaves his stuff there when he gets a mission call, and you end up with a stack of books and comics that you definitely didn't pick up yourself, and instead of mentioning it you just replace his horrifying whatever-he-can-find bookmarks (you find one of your bracelets there, once) with actual ones. People keep giving them to you as freebies- might as well put them to use.

Somehow he knows when you've got big appointments scheduled, and he just casually shows up the night before and complains about how you do your chores and insists on showing you how it's done, and then you blink and he's put away every dish in your kitchen, all while playfully critiquing your organization. And, like magic, you're free to sit down and relax, because evidently your sweeping technique is also tragic, no, no, give me that, you're- you're banished, that's abysmal, and feet off the ground- don't care, it needs swept, go on.

Crazy how his movie night picks are some of your favorites. Great minds think alike, eh?

And then 'huh, Leo's pretty helpful' becomes 'oh, Leo's given me impossible standards' when you wake up in the middle of the night and can't seem to catch your breath from a nightmare. You fumble for your phone and type what's supposed to say are you up? and comes out as ate yii yo? and then your phone is ringing.

He greets you with a you alright? that you think should probably be harsher than it is considering the hour, and when you manage to get the word dream out of your face he follows up with want some company?

And you must say yes, because the next thing you know is a crackle of blue energy (which should look dangerous, should feel dangerous, but looks like a playful wave and feels like home) and nearly six feet of mutant turtle dropping onto your bed, landing with a playful bounce that shakes a little of the dream-scented-sludge from your mind.

Sorry, he says, playful and grinning as he folds his arms behind his head and watches you like he can read your mind, traffic was a nightmare.

And you shake your head, because what the fuck, but you're laughing despite yourself and some of the scrutiny melts from his eyes.

Thought I'd-

Don't say drop by.

I would never, he says, but he doesn't elaborate on what he was going to say, and you draw your own conclusions. Anywhoozles, what's the vibe? Movie? Snack? Field trip to the top of the Great Wall?

And somehow he means it.

He's in your room at four in the morning, still in his pajamas, mask down around his neck, all warm and soft and sleep-shaped, and offering you the world like it was a piece of gum.

And you just stare at him, wondering if you're still dreaming.

[rmorde]

Trigun Manga Reaction

Here we go! Chapter 8 Volume... Huh?

Voulme 2? I thought this is still Volume 1. Am I tripping?

Anyway! Just a moment of appreciation for this parody page of he cover.

This while thing is so "busy" yet it still make sense. There's so many elements layering on top of each other. It should be a confusing mess. However, I can still easily pick out the four components that tells a story.

Component 1: Vash as a happy salary man being served a drink by a geisha (judging from the hairstyle and accessory) with shadowed eyes on the opposite end of the page.

Component 2: BDN at the dead center. The text makes it a bit difficult to confirm if he has a top knot, but he definitely is rocking a traditional Japanese look. He looks menacingly at Vash as he drinks.

Component 3: Meryl and Milly running in a hurry but for two clearly different purposes. Meryl looks like a traditional restaurant staff frantically trying to serve a lot of guests. Meanwhile, Milly doesn't look she's working anywhere near the food service industry with her get up and the tool that she has on hand.

Component 4: The Bad Lads drinking in celebration while an ambulance seems to be sounding its sirens as it parked near them.

Look. I may seem to be too obsessed with this gag page but it's crazy how its a fucking busy mess that still works at telling a cohesive story!

With just this two page drawing, I can infer easily that someone is in danger and may need to be hospitalized - so the ambulance was called and asked to stand by. Milly is probably the heroine about to save the day with the overworked yet eager to help Meryl. The party the Bad Lads are having is a big distraction at a possible murder attempt starring Vash as the victim, the geisha as the accomplice, and BDN as the mastermind.

I'M SORRY BUT HOW THE FUCK?!!!

And don't get me started on the scaling of each figure and the silhouettes. Just... I'll just repeat, Nightow is amazing for how pretty AND technical his drawing is. It's so clean. Wow...

Sorry for getting derailed. So, back to the chapter.

Ok. I lied. Let me just appreciate Winter Mery and Milly here. I love them so much and they so fucking cute here with their dynamic pose... solid silhouette... Clean fucking lines... Sorry... Give me a minute!!!

Sigh~

Interesting. So, '98 rearranged the sequence of events here. This happened a bit later... which I think is better. It adds more impact on Vash's duel against BDN.

These guys are no stormtrooper shooters. They having really good aim!

They didn't hit Vash. Okay. Maybe the tails of his coat now have fresh bullet holes, but aside from that, Vash is fairly intact. The Bad Lads have great accuracy.

This is an intriguing way of drawing a spinning gun. It's simple but effective in visually communicating that that is what BDN is doing. A good choice. Thinking about it... If three twirling guns in a blur of circles were drawn, it would be too distracting and BDN will be overwhelmed in the panel.

Cool foreshortening. Incredible detail on the filigree. And a bonus Goofy Face Vash!

So so fucking glad '98 was faithful to the manga with these scenes. Meryl and Milly were such badasses here.

Huh... Well that's a huge difference. There's not much:

GASP! It'S VaSH tHe STampeDE!

vASh ThE StAMpEdE?!

VASH THE STAMPEDE!!!

It can get a bit much... sometimes in '98. So, this is refreshing.

WHAT...

WHAT THE FLYING FUCK?!!!

So, those lines by Miss Purple Avenger from the filler episode were originally from BRILLIANT DYNAMITES NEON?!

I-

Oooohhh.... Pretty art... Wait no... I can't distracted. I'm mad!

I'M VERY VERY MAD!!!

OML! This is much more intense! IT ADDS SO MUCH WEIGHT TO THE DUEL!

Oh my goodness... This nuance... WHY WAS THIS CHANGED?!

Not to say that Miss Purple Avenger and the episode featuring her was bad. It was actually great! Her version of July was nightmare inducing... and her confrontation with Vash was truly tragic too but.... Uhm...uh... AAHHHH!!!! I CAN'T CHOOSE! THEY'RE BOTH GOOD!

Oh... break my heart into fucking pieces will you huh?!

LOOK AT THESE! Manga Vash getting cheered on by the people! People were supporting him! He is being treated nicely as he deserved.

Even in '98! It was not as overt at this page. However, that scene of the captain from the beginning of this chapter replaced these panels instead and is just as effective. '98 Vash has people believing the good in him.

TRISTAMP VASH WAS ROBBED!!! HE NEVER HAD THESE!!! That poor precious boy! The few precious people who supports him only showed up near the end... and... and...

Now getting even more upset again with the Jeonora Episodes in Tristamp!

It's so not fair!

Oooh. A cinematic page!

HOLY SHIT!!! THESE PAGES ARE AMAZING!

I can't believe this. This fight is better in the manga!

I am not dissing Studio Madhouse for what they've done tho. The '98 Duel was epic too! They did great! But all these crazy angles and perspectives in the manga just elevate the overall awesomeness of the gunfight. It's just more immersive.

Tbf to the '98 anime, this is a nightmare to animate faithfully. With the technology and techniques at the time, this would be so difficult to pull off beautifully - going topsy turvy in one smooth motion for two characters at the same time in a fight scene with a complicated moving background? Yeah... The animation staff would go insane. It's totally understandable that they simplified this duel into extreme close ups and strong facial + gun drawings instead.

I hope Studio Orange re-hashes this fight in some way tho... or does the Episode 1 duel count?

Sigh... With the my discovery that Miss Purple Avenger's lines were actually BDN's, and that the outrage towards Vash for not remembering anything about July belongs to the Bad Lads', these words have become so much more meaningful.

It's also now more effective at convincing me that Brilliant Dynamites Neon have hidden depths.

Oh... Ow... The detailing here is just ow for the hands of an artist. Perhaps I overreacting, but those fine lines in the crooks and crannies make me wince.

Once again tag responses:

@revenantghost

Yeah. The more I see his work, the more I'm awed by his skills. That's a cool detail that his design incorporate realism. I thought the glasses are for the light tho? But maybe it's like those the Olympian gunners wore during the competition?

The dead REALLY haunting the narrative? Looking forward to it!

@takeshidude

Ok. Monthly publication are still grueling but at least its not as nightmarish with weekly mangakas. No wonder the quality is consistent with the art. Nightow was allowed to breathe.

You make a good point. '98 did have a bit of a mystery woven into it. We know Vash the Stampede - we follow his misadventures and people kept saying who he is ad nauseam in every episode. However, we don't really know know him for quite a long time. It's a different, but no less interesting, spin to the story.

Which kinda explains I'm misremembering some scenes and characterizations? The last third of '98 made a long lasting impression that I kinda forgot about Vash's horn dogginess.

[delinquentbookworm]

howww about ❄️ & 🌤️

Oh thank you so much! Okay so a snippet from a WIP of my choosing and some dialogue. I'm just gonna do one that covers both of these because the first bit I picked is pretty long.

This is from a fic that I started writing when I got sick a couple weeks ago and decided to project how I was feeling onto Jace. The context is that Jace has called out of work but there isn't a substitute sorcery teacher available. Porter, who at this point is still nothing more than a coworker, draws the short straw and ends up being the person who has to go heal Jace and drag him into work before one of his students burns the school down.

This snippet is Porter having just arrived at Jace's place and calling him on the phone to be let in, while Jace is half-asleep and feverish and has no idea what's going on.

“Hey, Stardiamond. Aguefort said you weren't feeling well and he asked me to come heal you. I'm outside now. Tried knocking but you didn't answer.”  A voice says through the darkness, vaguely familiar, deep and rumbling. And, oh, wouldn't that be nice if it was true? Arthur Aguefort actually giving a shit about him, sending someone to make sure he’s okay. It’s never happened before, Jace can't see why it would start now. A pleasant dream, nonetheless. “Mmm, that’s nice of him. An’ who’s this?” Jace slurs out. “It's Porter.” Even in his delirious state, Jace recognises that this is a nonsense premise. Porter is the barbarian teacher. He doesn't have healing powers, doesn't have any kind of magic. Jace isn't about to turn it down, though. A healing-fantasy-slash-sex-dream about the hulking, brutish barbarian he ogles in the teacher's lounge sounds far better than the strange nightmares that plagued him all last night.  “Oh, hi Porter,” Jace lets his voice turn flirtatious, or at least, as flirtatious as he can considering how much he’s struggling with his words. “You've - you've come to kiss me an' make me all better, huh?” There’s a bark of laughter, and Jace feels vaguely offended (is he being rejected in his own fantasy?) before Porter's low, gravelly voice returns. “Yeah, something like that. I need you to come let me in, though. Your front door's locked.” “Not very barbarian of you. Jus' break it down.” Jace moans a little at the thought of Porter wanting him so badly that he kicks the door clean off its hinges. “Gods, you sound fucking delirious. No, I'm not gonna break your door down. You're gonna have to come open it."

"I don't think I can get up," Jace whines. His whole body aches terribly, and every part of him just feels so heavy.

"For fuck's sake. Alright, have you got a spare key hidden somewhere? In a fake rock or something?” Jace pouts. Why is his damn mind so focused on logistics, why can't it just skip straight to the good bit? “No, don't need it. I've got Knock if I ever forget mine. It's fine, if you can suddenly have healing powers - and fuckin' telepathy, apparently - you can have teleportation too. It doesn't have to make sense."   “What? I'm a paladin, that's why I can heal. I don't have any teleportation shit. Or telepathy. What are you talking about?" Porter asks, sounding frustrated. That makes two of them. “Okay, fine, you can be a paladin. Still doesn't matter how you get in. Break in if you want, it'll fix itself when I wake up." There's a brief pause before Porter speaks again, amusement seeping into his words as he asks, “Stardiamond... You do know this is real, right?" “Uh huh. Yeah. I'm sure you're very real.” Jace says placatingly, in the tone he always takes when a martial class thinks he’s insulting them. (In fairness to them, they're usually right.) “Real an' big an' strong an' handsome. Just, just waiting to have your way with me while I'm all weak and helpless. Can't even cast spells right now, 'm totally at your mercy." “Fucking hell." Porter's voice sounds a little thicker than it did a minute ago, a bit gruffer. "Don't get too excited, sweetheart. I'm here to heal you. That's it."

(Eventually Porter checks the back door, finds it unlocked, and manages to get inside to cast Lesser Restoration on Jace, who is absolutely mortified at everything he's said, and spends the next few weeks avoiding Porter. Or at least, that's what I've currently got plotted out, idk, that might change.)

[sharksnshakes]

Bad Dream? - Stephen Strange

Gn! reader wakes up from a nightmare when taking a midday nap. Good thing a certain sorcerer (and a certain cloak) is around to ground them.

A/N; as a throwback to my very first post on this blog pls enjoy some stephen strange hurt/comfort that's been in my drafts for an actual eternity!! use of (y/n)

Wordcount; 542

TW; none i can think of! other than (some) mutual pining and stephen being emotionally constipated but what's new.

You jerked awake with a start, a strangled sound ripping itself from your throat.

"(y/n)?" Stephen's voice called.

Chest heaving, you pawed at your eyes, wiping away hot tears and cold sweat.

"Hey," Stephen said, louder this time. Your surroundings started coming back into focus--you were on the couch, you must've drifted off, and the cushion you were sitting on sagged slightly as the sorcerer sat down beside you. "(y/n)? Breathe, alright? Breathe."

You followed his instructions, attempting to steady your semi-hyperventilating. As you came down from your rude awakening, you looked around once more: you were in the Sanctum Sanctorum, curled up on the couch in the library. The grandfather clock boasted the time, it was just after three in the afternoon.

"Breathe," Stephen repeated.

Though you'd seen Stephen sit down beside you before, it took you until this moment to actually realize it.

He watched you with concern. The Cloak had wrapped itself around your shoulders--How did it get there? You sure didn't remember. You were clutching Stephen's hands in a clammy, shaky death grip.

Dropping his hands like they were hot stones, you stared into the oriental rug on the floor. This was not the way you wanted to end your nap.

"Sorry," you mumbled, voice raspy from sleep. "I didn't mean to... you know."

"Are you alright?"

You sighed. "Not really."

A steaming mug appeared in Stephen's hands a moment later, and he handed it to you. It was filled with a sweet-smelling tea.

"Rose," he supplemented, gesturing to the mug. "Good for nerves."

"Thanks," you echoed, taking a small sip. The near-scalding liquid was at an ideal temperature to warm up the cold that had buried itself deep within you. "...Sorry."

"For what?"

You glanced up at Stephen, confused as to why he seemed so nonchalant.

"For using your hands like a stress ball and making you go our of your way to get me tea?"

He chuckled, a slight grin tugging at his lips. "For starters, it wasn't so bad. And, secondly, conjuring tea is hardly going out of my way--though I certainly would've. For you."

"Did I interrupt anything important?"

"No."

"You, uh, don't have to stay-"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You frowned. "Huh?"

"You're... not the only one who has nightmares," he supplemented, shrugging. "I've found that getting them out makes them a bit less intimidating."

You sighed, taking another sip of tea.

"It's up to you, though."

After another beat of silence, you explained the bad dream. Stephen nodded along as you explained. The Cloak rubbed your shoulders soothingly, and you found yourself leaning into its warmth.

"You're right, you know," you finally said, "I do feel marginally better."

"Told you so."

"Uh-huh. Rub it in, Doctor Strange."

You met his eyes. He was smiling at you, you were smiling at him... and you were instantly aware of just how close he was to you. Your thighs were touching, the Cloak drawing you closer together, the two of you sharing its warmth-

"I'll be in the study if you need anything," Stephen said, quickly standing up. He swallowed, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"I... yeah," you nodded, feeling warmth crawl up your neck. "Yeah. Thanks."

He gave you a nod, and disappeared through the door without another word.

It was safe to say you wouldn't be taking any naps for a while.

[cloudwhisper23]

Trick or treat ✨ฅ(•ㅅ•❀)ฅ

Depends on your interpretation of a treat, Pix. You get an excerpt.

The new school was interesting, at least in Chris’ opinion. Sure, people still gawked at his scar all the time, but it was so much better than where he was before. His English teacher immediately assigned reading partners, explaining that discussing the readings was just as important as drawing conclusions individually.

Chris glanced at his reading partner with disinterest. Her name was Millie Fitzsimmons, and she did not speak sign language. Her last name reminded him of Jeremy, which was the only reason he bothered to take an interest in her at all.

She was staring right back at him, seeming very interested in his dyed hair and scarred face. Chris didn’t take it personally. He did look interesting to an outside observer. His hair hadn’t really grown back yet either.

Millie leaned toward him as she spoke, “So, Chris. What types of books do you like to read?”

Chris tapped his pencil against his notebook for a moment, considering her question. His mother’s house had a wider selection of novels, and since she was gone all the time – albeit seeming more apologetic than his father or sister had been – he was allowed full access to her bookshelves.

Chris wondered if she was the reason his father’s house had absolutely no books or interesting material. It explained a lot, especially after he’d found his own name scribbled in the front cover of several books. He determined that they were definitely above his age-range when he’d originally read them, probably explaining his nightmares.

Finally, he remembered that Millie was waiting for a response. He shrugged, writing, “A bit of everything, to be honest. I prefer short stories to anything else.”

He wished he could explain better. That he loved seeing how writers wrote such wonderful stories without needing a whole book or even a series to capture it all.

While Millie skimmed the words he’d written, Chris quickly added, “Poe’s my favorite author though.”

“The Cask of Amontillado” was Chris’ favorite story to read since the Bite. The implied betrayal and potential for the narrator’s guilt at having killed Fortunato was all too familiar to Chris.

“Edgar Allan Poe is your favorite author?” Millie raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. “What’s your favorite work by him?”

Chris stared at her for a moment. Should he be completely honest? Truth be told, no one had tried to hold a conversation with him this long before. He gave a so-so gesture before writing, “If I have to pick one, I’d say ‘The Cask of Amontillado.’ What about you?”

She hummed for a moment. “I’d say… ‘Annabel Lee.’ The love shared between her and the speaker transcends heaven and hell, Chris. Isn’t that amazing?”

Chris shrugged. He found the poem depressing, truth be told. He couldn’t even imagine understanding what it could feel like to care for someone like that, only to lose them to others’ jealousy. But Jeremy would, a voice muttered in the back of his mind. He frowned slightly as that came up. It was private information, and whomever Jeremy chose to be with was none of his business.

Millie was carefully watching his expression, and she frowned back at him. “Do you hate romance or something?”

Chris shook his head. He wrote, “I just don’t get it.”

“Huh. Maybe you should read more,” Millie said, patting him gently on the shoulder as the bell rang for the end of class.

He decided he didn’t really like Millie, after that moment. Maybe it was something he should’ve blamed the Bite for instead of her overwhelming emotional attachment to a piece of poetry, but really. Did people actually develop obsessions with other people’s relationships?

Unfortunately, the rest of his morning didn’t go very well, and he found himself stuck eating lunch with Millie that day. And the next day, and the next day.

He didn’t understand how the entire school just decided they weren’t worth the effort of getting to know, and he expressed it in his letters to Fritz. Fritz would write back, saying the social circles must’ve closed before he was ready for it.

Chris always scowled after he read that. So eventually, he gave up, instead asking Fritz how Susie was doing. Funnily enough, his responses to that were much lighter and more cheerful. Fritz had succeeded in getting her to spend more time with him at lunch, and apparently, they ate together every day.

Fritz talked about how much she loved baking and how cool she found his ability to run. Fritz was excited about his friendship with Susie, and Chris was certain he wanted to push it further. If he’d had any advice for Fritz, he’d tell him to slow down and make sure they were close enough that their friendship could handle it if things went downhill. But Fritz was his best friend, so he just pretended to be happy for him.

The next week, he decided to be nicer to Millie about her whole thing with romance. “So,” he wrote in his notebook during lunch, something Millie never ate. “I’ve attempted to figure out what you mean by the transcending romance, and I just don’t get it.”

Millie frowned as he started eating. “Well,” she said with severe emphasis, “I prefer the stories where they’re willing to die for each other. When one dies for the other, you really see how things are. Like, depending on how they grieve, you can tell whether they actually loved each other, or if something was amiss.”

Chris considered that for a moment. “So if they don’t mourn properly, they don’t love each other?”

“Exactly.” Millie’s frown faded. “See, you kind of get it.”

Chris frowned. “Well, if that’s how it works, then my family probably would prefer if I was dead.”

Millie stiffened. “What?”

Chris shrugged. “I don’t mean my mom. I just mean that my dad and my sister probably couldn’t care less if I was alive. So I left to live with my mom.”

“Oh.” Millie blinked at him. “I thought you meant they’d try to kill you or something.”

“Well, someone actually did do that too,” Chris wrote. “But it was an accident.”

“You’re a strange guy, Chris.”

Chris just shrugged. He didn’t really care either way what she thought. Pointedly taking a bite of his sandwich, Chris successfully ended the conversation.

“Got any plans for winter break?” Millie asked him a few days later.

Chris considered the question for a moment, before shaking his head. “Fritz wants me to come visit, but I don’t particularly feel like going back there.”

Especially since Fritz was talking about all the kids who’d gone missing. Each time it happened, Fritz sent a letter dedicated to all the information he knew about the kid who’d gone missing. Every time, Chris could tell right away, and he’d put it in his desk, unread. Fritz wasn’t sending those for a response anyway. It was just a way to cope, or so Chris believed.

He sent letters back asking about school and Fritz’s relationship with Susie. Fritz constantly shot back encouragement to come visit and see for himself, but Chris didn’t think he was ready to go back.

[racfoam]

yfsm chapter 2 snippet Harry with Teddy

“Harry, Harry, Harry!” a five-year-old boy with light blue hair came running up to Harry, holding a book. “Read! Read!”

“Hang on a bit, Teddy,” said Harry, smiling, endeared by the boy's enthusiasm. Harry took the book. “This book's a little long for you, don't you think?”

“But it’s got," said Teddy, hopping up and down excitedly, “you in it!”

“A lot of books do.” said Harry calmly. “Too many, actually.”

“But this one's got You-Know-Who, too!”

“A lot of books have him in them, too,” said Harry reasonably.

“You're in all the books about him and he’s in all the books about you, too! That’s what Aunt Hermione says!”

Dammit, Hermione.

“Yeah, well, of course we are. I did beat him twice...”

“Read it to me? Please?”

Teddy used the most devastating move in his arsenal. The puppy eyes. Harry's heart melted.

“Teddy, you don't want to know about him. You'd get nightmares. Your grandma would kill me.”

“Then... just the parts with you and You-Know-Who! Aunt Hermione bookmarked them! They're the red-green ones!”

Of course she did... Hermione must have forgotten to take this book with her on one of her visits...

The Second Wizarding War

Harry restrained a sigh. This was the book she avoided reading the most.

“Okay,” said Harry. “But only one bookmark.”

Teddy cheered, hopping onto Harry's lap, holding out the book. Harry tapped her holly wand against it, floating the book mid-air in front of them.

The pages of the book turned, opening to the first bookmark.

“Huh?” said Harry upon the sight of the black-and-white drawing. Under it was the title He Who Must Not Be Named. It was a very unflattering, unappealing drawing. Harry needed a moment to realize it was supposed to be a drawing of Voldemort. Voldemort looked more like a snake in the shape of his face in it. The outline of his face was too skeletal, his chin was completely off, and his eyes weren't very well drawn. Why did he have wrinkles? His skin was as smooth as a marble sculpture’s, without any wrinkles, with a little bit of scales on his cheeks.

Who drew this? Voldemort looked like some sort of monster from a children’s book.

Maybe that's the point.

Sure, Voldemort could pass off as such most times, but they could have at least given some effort into capturing him correctly...

“That's not how he looks like!” yelled Harry before she could stop herself, indignant. At least they could have come and asked her to describe him so a magical sketcher could sketch him...

Oh, right. I refused all interviews.

Teddy blinked up at her, confused.

“Teddy," said Harry, standing up. “Get your trainers and coat. We're going to the..." Harry checked the publishing house and groaned. “Daily Prophet Publishing. I'll read the book to you while we wait.”

Excited by the prospect of seeing the office of The Daily Prophet, Teddy hopped off of Harry's lap and raced out of the room and down the stairs of Grimmauld to grab his coat.

Harry checked the page didn't have any text behind it, looked left and right, fearing Hermione would pop out anytime.

Coast clear, Harry grabbed the page with the illustration and ripped out the terrible drawing that didn't capture Voldemort at all.

Addition

Harry: My man hasn’t been drawn accurately, this is an insult! (kicks down the doors of the Daily Prophet) YOU BASTARDS, GET ME A PENSIEVE AND A MAGICAL ARTIST! YOU'RE GOING TO DRAW VOLDEMORT PROPERLY OR I'M GOING TO BURN THIS ENTIRE BUILDING TO THE GROUND!

Teddy, hanging off Harry’s back, going with the flow: Yeaaah!

Voldemort, laid back on a sunbed on a beach, wearing pink heart-shaped sunglasses, sipping a cocktail through a straw, watching Harry's life through a screen in limbo: You tell them, darling.

[howlingday]

A Terrible Choice

"Alright, I'm heading to bed." Emerald said, getting up after a long time sitting on the couch. The others were watching something she didn't really care about, but she didn't feel like sitting around in her room. "G'night."

"Good night!" Everyone else called, with only one of them filled with enthusiasm. Oscar watched her as she left for her room, letting out a sigh as he laid back with half-lidded eyes.

'Another night, another echo of affection unanswered.' Ozpin said with his own brand of sarcasm.

'Can't you let a guy dream?' Oscar replied in his head.

'Only when you are sleeping. And even so, this is a terrible nightmare that you refuse to wake from. You do realize that it's only a matter of time until you fade away.'

'Don't remind me.' Oscar slumped. 'What should I do?'

'Forget about Ms. Sustrai and focus on yourself.'

'I mean about dating Emerald.'

'I know what you meant.'

'Come on, Ozpin, haven't you ever been in love?'

'I believe we no longer need the Relic of Knowledge to know that answer.' Oscar groaned.

"Everything okay, Oscar?" Ruby asked. "Is the movie getting to be too much for you?"

"No, I'm just... talking with Oz, y'know?"

"Oh. About what?"

"Trying to watch a movie here!" Nora yelled, making the movie even more unheard.

"Sorry!" Ruby squeaked, then shifting to a whisper. "What were you arguing about?"

"Uh, well... Hey, Ruby, had did you know Whitley liked you?"

"Well, he did tell me, but... He also picked me a bouquet of roses after I helped move Weiss' stuff into her office. He said it was just a thank you, but I could tell it was him telling me he liked me." She giggled. "Guys usually don't know how obvious they are."

"Huh..." Oscar considered what Ruby said. Was he oblivious to how obvious he looked to Emerald? If so, then why didn't she respond to him?

'Because she's expecting you to grow out of it.'

'I wasn't asking you.' Ozpin rolled his eyes. How? Oscar just knew.

"Well, I gotta go use the bathroom." Ruby said, leaving Oscar to sit and think on this debacle.

He could ask the others, but it would probably draw too much undue attention on himself, and if word got to Emerald, he might actually lose her forever. He had to really think. He couldn't solve this alone, but he also couldn't ask the others. Wait... What if-

'No.'

'Please, Ozpin! This could be my only chance at love!'

'Or it could be a disaster, like my own love story.'

'I won't make the same mistake as you did!'

'Obviously, because it's not going to happen.'

'Ozpin... Please...'

'...Very well. I suppose this will put an end to your pestering.'

'Great! So, uh, what should I do?' Oscar quickly amended his statement. 'That ISN'T giving up.'

'I wasn't going to suggest that.' He totally was, Oscar knew. Or he was at least thinking it. 'I suppose if there is any advice I can give on the matter, I would suggest doing something nice for her.'

'Something nice?'

'Something that proves your concern for her is beyond that of a normal friendship. For example, shortly after rescuing Salem, she and I rested for a night at an inn. I was about to go to bed when I heard her whimpering in her sleep. So, I posted myself outside her door until she awoke the next morning, ensuring her safety.'

'Wow, that's... That's really good.'

'A knight such as myself must always be chivalrous.'

'Okay. Okay! I'll do something like that!' Oscar beamed from ear to ear. 'There's no way this could go wrong!'

--------------------------------------------

"What are you doing outside my room?" Oscar flinched as he turned around to find Emerald looking down at him, her red eyes narrowed on him. His throat dried and he could feel his palms soak with sweat while his heart thundered in fear, rather than the usual admiration while looking at her. "Well?"

"I... was keeping you safe?"

"Safe from what?" Her gaze intensified less.

"Well, uh, I was just trying to do something nice and-"

"So you were standing outside my room like a creep?"

Oscar's eyes shot wide open as he threw up his hands in front of him. He tried to get the words out, but his tongue tripped over itself, and he babbled for a bit until she covered his mouth with her hand.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. First, I'm going to tell you why you're a creep." He gulped. "I don't need somebody standing outside my door. If anything, I feel even more unsafe knowing that you're standing out here. Also, the fact you think I need someone to protect me really pisses me off."

"I... I was just being nice..." Oscar mumbled out. He felt like he was going to cry.

"You were being a creep." The word stung even worse the second time he heard it. She sighed. "Look, you're a nice... guy, but I don't need somebody treating me like a kid. Maybe next time you wanna be nice to me, buy me a soda, or something. Don't stand around outside a girl's room like some pervert." She slipped past him. "I'm gonna get a drink. You are gonna go to bed, right?"

"Yeah..." He muttered. "G'night, Emerald."

"G'night." He turned away and shuffled down the hall to his room.

'Great. Now I have to make double-lock my doors.' She shook her head. 'I don't know where he got this idea from, but wherever he got it from needs to get out of his life fast.'

[animebw]

Short Reflection: Kaguya-Sama: The First Kiss That Never Ends

I have never quite understood the hype behind Kaguya-sama.

Don't get me wrong, it's a great show. Actually, strike that; it's a fantastic show. It's one of the most consistently funny comedies of the past few years, and its clever character work and outrageous animation are more than deserving of their high praise. But whenever I hear people calling it the best rom com of all time, all I can think is, "Wow, y'all really are so young that you've never heard of Toradora, huh?" Never mind Kimi ni Todoke, Ore Monogatari, and countless other spectacular shoujo rom coms that people are all too quick to forget even exist. I love Kaguya-sama dearly, but I've never quite felt comfortable ranking it among the best of the best like so many others do.

At least, not until I watched this movie.

Now, though? I understand completely.

See, the reason I never rated this show as highly as other people is because to me, Kaguya and Shirogane's romance is the least interesting part of it all. Even after season 3 finally made me give a damn about them officially hooking up as a couple, Kaguya-sama is always at its most interesting to me when it's focused on anything other than its title character. Chika's insane wild card antics, Hayasaka's perfectly deadpan straight man routine, Ishigami's bizarrely endearing blend of misanthropy and sincerity... Kaguya's supporting cast has always been its biggest draw for me. Kaguya and Shirogane aren't bad by any means, and they've had plenty of great moments between them. But most of the time when Kaguya-sama is playing at being a straight romance, it just doesn't connect with me as strongly as it's trying to.

And that's why The First Kiss That Never Ends is so phenomenal. Because after four years of show, it finally, finally made me fall in love with the main romance of Kaguya-sama. After all this time, I get why these two crazy kids are so special to so many people. I get why countless adoring fans consider this their favorite rom com, even if it's still not my personal best. No longer am I standing on the sidelines in mild confusion; I am officially a full throated Kaguya-sama stan at last. And in accomplishing this feat, this movie finally helped me understand why these two weren't clicking for me before... and how I may not have been giving this show as much credit as it deserved.

You see, one of the central tropes in Kaguya-sama's romance is a trope that I have more bad experiences with than I can count: the Ice Queen. Kaguya is a frigid, closed-off girl who must learn to open her heart and be honest about her feelings over the course of the show. It's a character type I've seen a lot, and it's a character type that is dangerously easy to fuck up. Because if you don't treat this kind of story with care, it can very easily come off like the story sees her as a haughty bitch who needs to learn her place, stop being so stuck up, and let a man sweep her into his arms. And considering how many hang-ups a lot of male anime writers clearly have about writing female characters... yeah, let's just say I have enough nightmares of this trope being done wrong to last a lifetime.

And Kaguya's not even a bad example of the trope! She's always been a very well handled character, even as far back as season 1. But one always had this uncertainty in the back of my mind: how aware is this show of the gendered nature of the tropes it's playing with? There are countless times where either the narrator or the characters will make some sweeping statement about what girls are like, or what boys are like, or how relationships between men and women are "supposed" to work. And while they're always presented so absurdly that no rational person could take them seriously, it's never quite clear how unseriously we're supposed to take them. Cause, like... there's a lot of these moments for them to not be indicative of something.

So that's where I've been at with Kaguya the Ice Queen. A very loaded, very gendered trope in a series that has a very unclear stance of loaded, gendered tropes. Was it trying to say something? Did it have some grand thesis about the harmful nature of gendered expectations waiting in the wings? Or like so many anime before it, was it just uncritically parroting the same old tired expectations for good little boys and girls? Looking back, this was the sword of Damacles hanging over my head as I've watched and enjoyed Kaguya-sama, the uncertainty that kept me from opening my heart to it fully. Whether I could fully put it into words or not, I couldn't get past that question: is this show yet another victim of sexist stereotypes it doesn't fully understand?

Thank god, then, that The First Kiss Never Ends had finally proven the answer to be no.

Yes, if you thought the aftermath of Kaguya and Shirogane's first kiss was going to be smooth sailing for these two neurotic messes, you clearly don't know what show you're watching. They've taken the biggest step forward imaginable and brought their relationship right to the precipice of being official. Victory is so close they can taste it, but with that comes a terror the likes of which they've never felt before. Suddenly the reality of what their lives are about to become crashes up against their long standing hang-ups about love and self worth, and their mutual fear over thinking they aren't yet living up to the standard of what a Person In A Relationship is supposed to be leads to the biggest rift in their relationship yet. Neither understands what the other wants from them- hell, they don't even understand what they want from themselves. Which means after so many mental battles and false starts, it's time for Shirogane and Kaguya to rip off their masks and face each other's true selves once and for all, even if they can't bear the answers they think are waiting in the other's gaze.

And yes, in exposing themselves so completely, it makes clear just how inexorably their issues are bound up in gender. Kaguya's so obsessed with playing out the script of the submissive lady who lets the man make all the first moves that her spiraling self-loathing ends up hurting everyone who tries to get close to her. Miyuki's so wrapped up in the need to prove himself manly enough to be worthy of Kaguya that he loses the ability to connect with her on her own terms. And when these two deeply flawed approaches to romance collide with the heightened tension of two dumb kids desperate not to fuck everything up, they feed into each other in the worst way.

In other words, what this movie proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is that Kaguya-sama fully understands the importance of leaving gender roles behind. The final boss of this show isn't just the inescapable fear of knowing and being known; it's also, explicitly, how that fear is made worse by gendered expectations that leave lost kids flailing in an attempt to live up to unhealthy notions of love and companionship. It's the kind of misunderstanding plot that actually makes sense and leaves you agonized because of how well it understands why their wires are getting crossed, as opposed to agonized because the writers are clearly dragging things out tortuously to avoid progressing the plot an inch further. For Kaguya and Shirogane to truly overcome their issues, they must leave behind their notions of who they're supposed to be, how they're supposed to act, and see each other as the people they are. Not a girl and guy following a pre-written script, but two complex human beings who make each other's lives that much brighter for being in them.

And in retrospect, that's always been what Kaguya-sama is about, hasn't it? All of this show's best non-comedic moments have been when it takes an ax to a restrictive gendered trope and lets the character behind it fly free. Miko's introductory arc was all about Shirogane realizing that this girl most people dismissed as a naggy bitch in need of an ego check was in fact one of the most passionate, dedicated people in the school, and doing his damndest to give her a chance to speak her truth. And hey, remember how Ishigami's rise from Reddit-pilled loner to someone who can embrace his place in the world without feeling like an incel involved him dressing in drag and feeling happy doing so? When you look back at the whole picture, Kaguya-sama has always been about breaking free of gendered expectations, in ways both big and small. And now that we've reached the climax of Kaguya and Shirogane's arc, it's finally time for them to break free just the same.

And my god, it is spectacular. It's an emotional payoff to years of slow-burn character work that makes look back and realize just how fucking good it’s been at laying the foundation for this moment. It bares Kaguya and Shirogane’s souls like never before, and it took me from being nominally interested in their antics to openly weeping over their attempts to understand each other. This isn't just a beautiful finale that washes away all my concerns, it's made me appreciate everything this show was doing so wonderfully before that I was too uncertain to pick up on. At last, I can see that Kaguya-sama is as incredible as everyone says. It is genuinely a masterpiece of rom com storytelling. It's an uproarious, beautiful tale about the importance of living true to yourself, even when you feel like yourself is something to run away from. And if this movie is the last part of the manga to be adapted, then it's as perfect a conclusion as I could hope for.

It's not a perfect movie overall, to be fair. It pretty much skips over an Ishigami/Miko subplot it starts building up, and there are points in the middle where the lighting is so dark it's almost impossible to see what's going on. Which is a weird misstep for a series that's always had such a strong visual identity. But as a climax to this war of hearts and minds that finally made me care about those hearts and minds, it's an unimpeachable triumph. The First Kiss That Never Ends made me believe the hype at last, and I can't wait to join the rest of the world in preaching the glories of the series it caps off so wonderfully. And I give it a score of:

9/10

Thank you all for reading. Here's holding out hope for season 4!