#then we're all caught up!!

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

chapter tags: military, mission gone wrong, implied death of multiple civilians, author certainly gets everything about the military wrong

read below or on ao3

Day 4: 2004

“What the hell is this for?” Tommy asked angrily as he stared down at the medal on the desk.

“That's a Silver Star,” Captain Jones explained.

“I know what it is, I'm asking what the hell I'm getting it for.”

“Son-”

“Don't call me that. You just told me I'm being discharged, but for some reason I'm getting a medal?”

“You're being given the option of being honorably discharged, and you're receiving a silver star for your courageous-”

“Please, do not finish that sentence, Sir."

“Kinard, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be, but this is your only option right now.”

“Then it's not much of an option, is it?”

Jones sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand over his forehead. The room was warm, but a breeze flowed through the makeshift office. A glorified tent, really. “You haven't been eating,” he explained. “Haven't been sleeping. On the off chance you do sleep, you're waking everyone up with nightmares. There's a noticeable change in behavior. There are a lot of people worried about you.”

“You mean people who don't wanna fly with me.”

“Can you blame them?” he asked. “You're not yourself ever since-” he cut himself off quickly.

“Ever since?” Tommy beckoned. “Ever since I was ordered to kill ten innocent civilians?”

“It was an order to target a terrorist cell! We didn't know the intel was bad until it was too late.”

“Well, that makes it all okay, then," he replied sarcastically with a scoff. "I'm just supposed to move right along and forget it ever happened?”

“Yes, that's exactly what you're supposed to do,” Jones answered frankly. “And it's also clear that's not going to happen with you. That's why accepting the star and the honorable discharge is your best option.”

“I thought it was my only option.”

Jones took a deep breath. “I'm a messenger here, Tommy, that's it. You don't accept what I'm offering, you talk about what happened, you're gonna get discharged anyway but it won't be honorable anymore. They'll make your psych eval results public, and you'll have an other-than-honorable, or a dishonorable discharge, that will follow you around forever. It will make it more difficult for you to get a job and you'll lose your benefits as a veteran. Is that really what you want?”

Tommy stared down at the medal, but he didn't respond.

“You need to go home, Tommy. You need to see a therapist, get in a veteran's program. I know you're young, you're only twenty, and this seems like the end of road for you, but it's not. It can be the start of something better.”

Tommy continued to stare. He took three breaths before responding. “When do I leave?”

“Next flight out is December 26th. Tomorrow morning.”

Tommy nodded, then stood. He had no fight left in him. He turned to leave but didn't get too far before-

“Kinard!” Jones called, grabbing up the box the medal was in and walking around his desk. “There's usually a ceremony for these types of things, but I didn't think you'd want that.” He handed Tommy the medal. “You are officially relieved of duty. On behalf of the United States Armed Forces, we are grateful for your service. ”

Tommy glanced down at the medal one last time before snapping the box shut. As he walked out of the office, he tossed it into the trash can that was beside the door of the tent.

He left the next day without saying goodbye to anyone.

It would take years for him to get a good night's sleep again.

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[good-to-drive]

Abuse, Silence, And Why Kevin Can Fuck Himself

I recently finished watching Kevin Can Fuck Himself on Netflix, and, aside from being the most brutally honest portrayal of domestic abuse I have ever seen, I discovered a beautifully written examination of narrative as power and silence as abuse and how this manifests in our larger culture. 

Without going into too much detail, the show is filmed in two distinct styles that are interleaved throughout each episode to tell a cohesive story. Allison and Kevin’s relationship as seen by the rest of the world is told through a multi-cam, laugh-track sitcom that depicts a very typical “goofy husband, shrewish wife” mainstream comedy. Allison’s life through her own eyes is told through a single-cam drama/thriller about Allison planning to murder Kevin to escape his abuse. 

It’s an absolute masterclass in screenwriting, but more than that, every episode explores the difference between truth, fact, and reality, and how none of these things are quite as much or as little as story. But while the process of transforming the chaotic and plotless reality of life into a story is as involuntary and essential as breathing, misogyny and the degradation of women is just as ubiquitous in our society, and a story that exists at the expense of another person’s lived reality is a refutation of their humanity. 

It's also just a great show for anyone who likes to engage with history (or reality TV or true crime or “real life stories” in general), because while we have to tell ourselves stories about her own lives, we have to tell ourselves stories about other people as well. Eternal silence is narrative death, and the perpetual silence of an unspoken narrative is often the last death we can visit on someone whose story we’d rather ignore. 

I also pulled up some books – Lolita and Disgrace – that dealt with similar themes, but from the perspective of the abuser. And what strikes me the most is that, across three beautifully written stories about narrative and silence within a culture that normalizes abuse, Allison, who began her story within a state of narrative death, was the only point-of-view character who had any chance of surviving. 

One of the main themes of Kevin is that a compelling story is often a story that reinforces what we already believe or like to believe, and while the story may be factual and true it often also exists at the expense of someone's lived reality. The exact same series of events can be a silly joke or a harrowing tale of abuse depending on the lens through which we view it, but historically we've only been willing to see the multicam, laugh track, sitcom perspective on unbalanced relationships.

The alchemical process of turning a series of disjoint facts and experiences into a narrative creates something new and compelling, and erases much of what previously existed. In this way, it’s entirely irreversible. We spin our experiences into a very thin thread, a story we can tell ourselves that elicits something within us, something we need in order to live with the complex, uncertain, and unsatisfying reality of life. In think in many ways the thing we elicit in ourselves is truth. But truth is both more and less than fact, often more a reflection of our own beliefs and desires than the events of our lives. And in telling that truth we may never stray from the facts, but we almost by definition cannot give voice to another person’s reality.

There's a scene in season 2 of Kevin when Allison is hit by a door – a la the classic excuse – because of Kevin’s carelessness. And while he absolutely did not hit her, the way it's written is such an incredible allegory for how Kevin has curated their story and curated their friends' and family’s perceptions of their story such that even if she tells everyone the exact, unvarnished truth of what's happening to her and begs for help, they will only be capable of seeing the laugh-track, sitcom, “Kevin is a harmless goofball and his wife is a total shrew” perspective on the events of their lives. 

As so often happens with abuse, their friends and family saw Allison being hurt because of Kevin. But the alchemy of creating a narrative around Kevin and Allison is irreversible, and the series of events they witness can only be spun together to a joke, an accident, a silly, childish mistake. Allison’s reality, Allison’s pain and fear, is completely elided. Like a lost sound in the middle of a sentence, her experience goes silent, and their larger understanding of her relationship never has to change. And you feel so acutely how Allison lives her entire life in that silence. 

Storytelling is human, it’s essential, there’s no other way to engage with our own lives. And it’s not lying. It’s never lying to tell the truth. But it doesn’t reflect every reality, either, because another person’s reality can’t be reflected within our own narrative, because that’s what it means to be another person. To spin two different threads.

And because narrative is the essential process by which we understand our reality, denying someone their own narrative, or denying that this narrative be heard, is inherently abusive. To allow someone a voice is to give them humanity, and to suppress it is to strip that humanity away. 

Disgrace, by J.M. Coetzee, follows the story of a professor, David, who rapes a student and then fails to protect his daughter, Lucy, from being raped by intruders in their home. He destroys his daughter’s life  – not through failing to protect her, but through twisting her rape into a story about why the rape of his student wasn’t wrong. The main theme of the book is generally considered to be exploitation, but Coetzee doesn’t deal with the exploitation of the rape. That’s too direct, too immediate, too easy for the reader to understand as misogynistic and wrong. Rather, Coetzee delves into “the innocuous-seeming use of another person to fill one's gentler emotional needs” (Ruden).

The rape is how we understand David as a fundamentally exploitative person, a person who denies others their humanity by converting them into a vessel for his own desires, who erases their voice in order to speak through them and give himself the things he needs. And that’s how we recognize that the way he absorbs and claims the stories of his daughter and his student is another kind of violation of their humanity. Another way of turning women into vessels for men’s pain and fear and need. 

What’s fascinating is that David's student finds her voice – files a complaint against him – and is eventually able to continue with her life. The woman he raped is less damaged by him than his own daughter, because she was the woman he couldn’t permanently silence. 

In Lolita, another brilliant novel about abuse, dehumanization, and storytelling, Humbert turns to the reader at the end and says, “Imagine us, reader, for we don’t really exist if you don’t.” 

It’s not that Humbert knew he was fictional, but that he knew everyone was fictional. Believed the entire world only truly existed in his own mind, because anything beyond that was irrelevant to his needs. He coped with the collapse of his ability to dehumanize Dolores (who he called Lolita) by demanding that his voice be resurrected. Demanding immortality. Demanding his narrative exist in another person’s world, and thereby be given the existence and humanity that Allison and Dolores and Lucy and David’s student were denied. 

Pushing his needs, finally, onto the reader, because we are the only person he has left, and a person like him can only exist through the use of another. In that way, Humbert was powerless. In that way, Kevin and David were powerless, too.

In Disgrace, David’s dream is to write an opera, and at the end of the book he realizes he’ll never finish his magnum opus. He’ll never be able to terminate the process of converting himself, his world, into a story. But he does learn to decenter himself in that narrative. And it’s when he loses all fear of death, and any conception of the self, that he gains the ability to give dogs – who he generally equates to women – a voice within his opera, his life’s work. 

It’s in death that we discover our true unimportance as human beings, that we learn to let go of vanity and our conception of the self entirely. And David had degraded women so thoroughly in order to justify how he used them to meet his own emotional needs that it was only in losing all value for his own life that he could gain the ability to see them as equal voices. To actually put those voices into his own life story. It's at the cost of himself that he allows other people to truly exist, in the death of the self that he finally allows the world to exist outside of himself. It’s almost a positive character arc. Almost.

When Kevin finally loses the ability to abuse Allison, he, like many abusers, loses all desire to live. His world was built on a structure of superiority and inferiority, on beings and vessels, on the inherent value of men and the inherent meaninglessness of women’s lives. The system on which he based his entire reality has been destroyed by Allison’s declaration of the self. And, if he was a being because she was a vessel, then in losing the ability to treat her as a vessel, to fully and completely dehumanize her, he has lost his own humanity. 

It may be perfectly summed up here: “Become major. Live like a hero. That's what the classics teach us. Be a main character. Otherwise, what is life for?” (Coetzee).

If you’re not to be a main character, if there indeed is no split between major and minor characters, between people and the paper dolls that populate their story, between living beings and the vessels into which they pour their need – what is life for?

Nothing. At least, not for people whose narrative must exist at the expense of another. 

And that’s why I say that only a narrator like Allison could survive this kind of story. Despite beginning her story trapped in eternal silence, her reality fully elided no matter how immediate and obvious it became, Allison was the only point-of-view character of any of these three stories who didn’t establish her power through the degradation of another. Who didn’t conceptualize the world via being and vessels. Whose narrative didn’t exist, by necessity, at the expense of another person’s humanity. Whose thread could exist in a larger tapestry without destroying her sense of self.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s not generally a likable character. She’s misogynistic, cruel, selfish, jealous, desperate, afraid, and in pain. Like anyone in an abusive relationship, she’s not at her best, and she’s often pushed to do things that are ugly and disturbing because she’s simply been pushed too far. 

But, for me, the power in her character is in how her last scene never felt like a final scene. Her story didn’t have to be killed, her conception of the self didn’t have to be killed, in order to reveal the brutal reality of stories twisting and intertwining without any inherently superior truth or narrative among them. Allison’s story was one of declaring herself. And that’s why it didn’t feel like it ended at the end. Instead, this felt like a beginning.

[waywardted]

I really do have love to give. I just don't know where to put it.                - Magnolia (1999)

[chiyana]

Jon: Damian, I have a suggestion that you're going to hate, but I need you to bear with me and seriously consider it Damian: very well Jon: *takes a deep breath* I think we should go on an adventure with our brothers (Kon and Tim) instead of our dads Damian: *visibly vibrating with anger* *deep inhale* ...eXpLaIn Jon: our dads are constantly talking about responsibility and the importance of a well-balanced SuperBat partnership, working together as a single unit and approaching things seriously Damian: they are respected heroes, above reproach in their conduct and two of the three main founders of the Justice League Damian: meanwhile our "brothers", as you say, have a public history of being reckless and idiotic when teamed up together and are regularly involved in inane, useless shenanigans Jon: they would let us ride laser dinosaurs into battle without question Damian: they- Damian: -later- Damian: father Jon and I are going on an adventure with Drake and his clone boy

[feeling--pink]

Day 20 (blue) - Luberto 💙

I couldn't decide which idea I wanted to go with for them so I just did both? I loved the idea of doing a floaty space pose reference I found with their sea monster forms but how could I NOT do a (kinda) redraw of Kenna Harris's umbrella kiss?

Speaking of the umbrella kiss the original under the cut!

I know I said original but I did photoshop this back when it was first posted to make it a little cleaner (I did my best lmao)

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

We now have poster images for all the guys for the November exhibition art!

[lemonandpie]

Dick Grayson would go on a podcast and in his attempt to seem normal would accidentally be so unhinged the internet would lose its collective shit.

[fellamarsh]

another thing i've been trying to do recently is read more self-published stuff. "but fell," you say, "you're a self-published author. surely you've been reading self-published stuff all along" and then i laugh for so long in response we both become uncomfortable.

see, the fear (which has for a long time been killing my mind) that i'll read other self-published stuff and find out that it's so much better than mine that i might as well stop writing forever kept me from doing that basically ever. i have a hard time not unfavorably comparing my work to others and had convinced myself i was being smart by withholding an avenue of de-motivation (reader: i was not being smart). it also doesn't help that i'm pretty low income and have a hard time spending money on books i haven't already read, and that self-published stuff isn't always available at the library---but really a lot of it was just me being a coward. which i'm working on. i could talk about how this particular cowardice is Very Silly, but i think enough has been said about it on writeblr and in the Writing Space in general that i don't feel the need to (though i will if anyone wants me to).

instead, i wanna talk about the self-published things i have read in the past few months and ask about the self-published things you love!

so: what happened was i got real sick, and while i was real sick i (naturally) read over 200,000 words of ace attorney fan fiction in the span of a few days. eventually i got bored of it (and also maybe annoyed at how people were characterizing some of my guys), but i still wanted to read something gay and romantic and nice, something i knew was gonna end happily, which isn't my typical fare.

now you may be saying (having gotten over all the uncomfortable laughter from earlier) "fell, you write gay romance. what do you mean that's not your typical fare?" listen. until a couple months ago i hadn't read a cut and dry romance novel since before i finished college. for context: i graduated in 2015. i know it doesn't make sense. i'm a guy who doesn't make sense.

but in this case it worked to my advantage. not the not making sense thing, but the not having read Published Romance in 1000 years thing. I didn't know where to start. I was very skeptical of everything the library had Available Now in the Gay Fantasy Romance category. what if it was all bad and also not good?

and then i scrolled past the familiar cover of our very own @ashen-crest's A Rival Most Vial.

now this was comfortable territory! this was a novel by a very nice writeblr person whose posts i enjoy! i already loosely knew the plot, i was familiar with the characters, i knew the names of things like rosemond street and the griffin's claw and that ambrose had blue hair and that at the end of it all there would definitely be Boyfriends. i didn't have to worry that this would be bad! i only had to worry that it would be really good!

but i wasn't worried about that, because i was officially Not Writing at the time, and because why the hell hadn't i read this book yet Ash literally emailed me some very kind words last year when my cat died??

Y'all, I devoured ARMV. If you haven't read it yet---especially if cozy fantasy is more your thing than it is mine---you should check it out Immediately. It was fun! It was heartwarming! It was sweet and earnest and confident! I was delighted to find it was occasionally hot! Ambrose and Eli snuggled up into my sick exhausted heart and found a permanent little place there. (Especially Ambrose. I have such a thing for Stiff Guys who Kind of Suck for Tragic Backstory Reasons and are So So Lonely They Don't Even Realize It. gawd)

(And a very small part of my brain spent the whole time wondering why I had been so afraid to really engage with the work my community is doing. The community that I'm in. The one I'm a part of. Why?! Maybe more on that later.)

But from there the curse was broken! I immediately devoured @stjohnstarling's What Manner of Man in a similar sort of frenzy (and hooooly shit guys am I excited for the expanded, finalized version to come out at the end of next month!) and started digging into @lurinatftbn's The Flower that Bloomed Nowhere (which I can already tell is going to be an All Time Favorite).

And now I want to ask you what your favorite self-published books are so that I can read them, too, but I think I will in another post that doesn't dedicate so much space to talking about my various and sundry Issues and isn't Terminally Long

[chungmyungenthusiast]

Banter

Notes I Pure fluff maybe + chung myung content ?!?! woah.. keep in mind that this is not edited and checked :3

Chung Myung will never let you live this down. No way. Especially when he, quite literally, had you pinned down. "Give up yet?" He asks, his tone teasing as he looks down at you with that shit-eating grin he knows you have a hate-love relationship with. God, you want to wipe that grin off his face so bad. "Love," You start, your tone seemingly pleading as you look up at him. The one and only Mount Hua's Divine Dragon, Chung Myung, swore he could explode at any given moment. And while that normally is a threat to the other disciples, it means something else now. Slowly but surely, you lean closer to him. You then pout, "Please.." A kiss, then you turn the tables on him. For a split second, he was caught off-guard with that kiss; you didn't waste any time switching your positions. How cute he looks when he's under you. "I'll kiss you, okay? So please, keep your voice down."

Notes II Chung Myung deserves all of the kisses and hugs in the world.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

You could say that I have strong feelings about this ongoing debate

[sysig]

Hi there! As a requestober request could you please draw something cute with Mob? I'm planning on rewatching Mob Psycho 100 and it would be great to see fanart of him in your style! :D

Day 17 - She loves me, she loves me not...

[dimension-20-every-introduction]

Everyone Introduced in Dimension 20's Fantasy High: Junior Year episode 11

[cerealforkart]

Dungeons and Daddies the Manga Lesson 31: Halt and Catch Fireball

Read right to left

[first] [prev] [next]

[masterpost]

Transcript under the cut

Transcript reading guide / key

[xxxx] =  identifier of text source

- =  break between panels

(xxxxx) = text outside of normal speech bubble

Call for Mommy (Page 121)

[Normal]: Get out of here Scary!

Banishment

-

[Dice roll]: Charisma, 15

[Normal]: …

[Scary]: …

-

[Scary]: Oh, you want me to go?

[Normal]: Yeah, I want you to go! You suck!

[Scary]: Oh, wow. Well, this house is on fire, so maybe I’ll go outside and hang out with my pal.

-

[Normal]: Mom! My friend blew up the house!

[Dice roll]: Fire Extinguisher, 9 

Hug 1 (Page 122)

[Link]: If you’re gonna go, fine, just-...

-

-

-

[Combat Box]: Eldritch Blast, Lincoln, -21

Hug 2 (Page 123)

[Scary]: Am I…enough?

[Willy]: Hoo Boy… Once you break the other anchors you will be.

[Scary]: Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too…

[Willy]: Yeah good, so get back to it. 

-

[Scary]: Well - I know we’re in like, my mind and stuff, but I was just wondering if I could have like, a hug?

[Willy]: From who?

[Scary]: Yeah, I was ju-...From you?

-

[Willy]: Ha ha! Oh shit! That’s funny.

Yeah, you can wake up now. 

-

-

Declaration of War (Page 124)

[Taylor]: Scary! Can I borrow that hat? Please please please!

[Scary]: I guess I don’t care.

[Normal]: I gotta go check on Hermie. 

(He gets mad when we ignore him)

-

[Taylor]: Willy. I call forth for you. 

[Willy]: What the fuck? Oh god. Cover up your dick. 

[Taylor]: Your worst nightmare, motherfucker!

(Literally in this case.)

-

[Taylor]: I see right through your plans. Get your loins ready, ‘cause I’m coming for you!

[Willy]: Who are you?

-

[Taylor]: That’s right. You’ll never know…

[Willy]: What the fuck???

[Text box]: Close Family : III

Stampler Family: I*

Transcript provided by @confusedfoam

[sportsthoughts]

.

[companion-showdown]

Most Likely to Wander Off - Nominations

a penchant for wandering off is a core trait of practically every companion, but who is first out of the starting blocks even when its incredibly dangerous, who cannot stay put no matter how imperative, who can the doctor not afford to let out of their sights?

no specific rules for this one, just the general guidelines of preferably no alternate versions of the same character unless they are very different eg through regeneration, and limited nominations from franchises other than doctor who and only if their universes are incredibly intertwined with Doctor Who (ie more than a small handful of crossovers)

all tv companions, along with some of the better known eu companions, are automatically included and so don't need nominating. full list here

Nominations:

Antranak

Missy

Wolsey

Rose the Cat

K9 mk 5

K9 from K9 Australia

John and Gillian Who

The TARDIS

Cousin Eliza

Delgado!Master

Ainley!Master

Miss Evangelista

proper Dave

other Dave

Anita

guy played by steve pemberton whose name i will look up in a minute: Strackman (??! - what) Lux

Death's Head

Thomas Brewster

Lulubelle

Mels Zucker

Rose Noble

this list will be whittled down to 8 during the round 1 group stage

Nominations will be open for at least 24 hours, until 14:00 BST (GMT/UTC + 1) 30/08

after that no guarantees, but always worth a try if the tournament isn't yet underway