#they’re both very cool in design too

[dkniade]

Sometimes I wonder if I just don’t feel emotions very intensely when it comes to reacting to stories, but then I realize if the coming-of-age (??) fine-art-focused manga Blue Period can give me so much secondhand stress as an artist that I actually paused reading about the university arcs (because of the in-universe art assignments), then surely it’s not because I don’t feel intensely, but rather the other stories I’ve been reading/viewing/playing are just either not well-written or just not my type

Not just secondhand stress though. I actually cried after watching (anime) Yuka drawing on the canvas, rejecting the prompt in the first Geidai entrance exam, in a similar way that Yun Jin’s appended line in “The Divine Damsel of Devastation” made me cry

[beesorcery]

i really liked the design of this shirt but 1) too many dollars 2) i wasn’t about to stand in that merch line for an hour and 3) it’s not on the website anymore??? idk

anyway i have decided to embark on a fun project in which i recreate this design but instead of the city names it’s the 8 ball from that show, which means it won’t be done until april! so i’m gonna post progress updates as i do them. graphic design is my passion or whatever

here is the current draft updated through 3/4:

i’m doing it in illustrator because i have access through my school and also it’s easier to move things around as stuff gets added. i don’t know yet if i’ll try to make it into a shirt or maybe a poster or something once it’s done

my main obstacle to making it really similar to the original is these fucking song titles jesus christ. it took me like 5 hours noodling to get the current composition. slump isn’t even one of their longest like if they play get busy in raleigh i’m cooked. i am having fun though so that’s what matters

finding the fonts is also very time consuming but still fun, there are some i straight up can’t find anywhere (and the image isn’t hq enough to be able to tell exactly what they look like anyway) so for some of them i’m just gonna use the best match and then convert to shapes and fuck around until it looks right; i did it with the 3.3 and 3.4 idk if it’s noticeable

i’ll rb this post with more updates!! hopefully posting will also structure the time i work on it so i don’t end up completely missing schoolwork due to hyperfocusing on this

[petrii-dish]

Behold, my magnum opus! Go forth, my rodents (?)!

(Sketches and notes under the cut)

My first attempt at a lineup, before it was stopped in its tracks by Isabeau. It’s a little crazy that I was working on these guys for so long that my art improved so much between the takes…

And my favourite sketches! Ratdile’s really nice to draw

I’m going to be honest, this isn’t even a rat/mouse isat au, because half the characters (including Siffrin??) aren’t even rats or mice, and some of them may not even be rodents!! I couldn’t keep myself contained! I’ve been working on this on and off since the end of February, and I kept falling out of because a. certain fighter was making it difficult for me. Not naming names, though.

Notes, notes… (too many notes)…

- Siffrin, Mirabelle and Isabeau all have wrapped their tails around themselves to keep them out of the way in combat, and to mimic their belts for the character design.

- Siffrin and Loop aren’t mice, actually. Or rats. They’re small gliders, which are either possums (marsupials) or squirrels (rodents). I’ve been going back and forth.

- I modelled Siffrin off the feathertail glider, which has a body and head length of 6.5 to 8cm, and is an Australian possum. I don’t really think of the Island as being Australia?? I’m just really partial to our animals and think they’re cool.. I think someone could make the argument for Australian Sif the same way you could for so many different cultures, but that someone isn’t going to be me.

- What’s important! Is that feathertail gliders! Are small!! And nocturnal! And they can fly! In the sky!! And they sleep in trees all day. And they’re very cute. They’d also have flatter faces than the rodents, which could be uncanny to them?

- Siffrin would be capable of gliding if they unwrapped their tail and took off his cloak and hat, but I don’t think Loop would be anymore. Their tail is too unevenly weighted.

- Mirabelle also isn’t a mouse or rat. She’s modelled after the mouse-tailed dormouse, which is pretty similar to a mouse but they hibernate, are often nocturnal and have fluffy tails (except the mouse-tailed one). They have a body and head length of around 8 - 13cm (I think??). Mirabelle needed to have a scaly tail so it would look like her rope belt, but I liked the idea of her being a dormouse because of the dormont pun and I think she would get stressed trying to balance the expectation of Changing with the need to hibernate.

- Isabeau is a brown rat!! They’re one of the two main rats! They’re big (body and head length of 15 to 28cm!!) and round, and fat, and I love them. He should be (at min) like twice as tall as Siffrin, but I shrunk him down in the lineup a bit because making him bigger just made drawing him harder. And I was already having enough trouble drawing him.

- Isabeau has been a consistent hassle and a pain to rat-ify, and he has delayed this project single-handedly by months. The most important part of Isabeau’s silhouette (to me) is his arms and shoulders and his big sleeves, and the really fluid and strong poses he makes with them. Rats have no arm game at ALL. They’re like. The t-rexes of mammals. Is a comparison I will make. So trying to give Isarat arms and shoulders always looks off, because rats don’t have very visual arms or shoulders, but go too far in the other direction, and it doesn’t look like Isabeau! Very frustrating. Also, rats just aren’t built for pants. Isabeau wears pants. Annoying.

- Odile is a black rat, the other main sort of rat! They’re not as big as the brown rat (body and head length of 12.75 to 18.25cm, really specific numbers) and tend to be a lot slimmer and pointier. They have a global distribution, including across both Europe and Asia. They’re very good rats and my friends.

- Bonnie is a pocket mouse!! Pocket mice are very small (the species I modelled Bonnie after, the rock pocket mouse, tends to have a body and head length of around 7 to 7.5cm) but they have very long tails! (and tails of 8.4 to 11.2cm!!)

- Importantly, they have cheek pouches that they keep their snacks inside, like little seeds. This is Bonnie behaviour.

- Euphrasie (The Head Mousemaiden…) was… maybe a dormouse? Given her fluffy tail? But she could’ve just Changed it to be like that. I never really settled on a species for her, which ended up kinda showing. She’s Changed so much she defies taxonomy.

- Like Siffrin and Loop, the King is also a glider. He’s only in my sketches, because like Isabeau, he’d just be too big and it would be too much effort for my poor hands to draw. I modelled him after the southern greater glider (also an Australian marsupial…). He would be on the bigger side of a body and head length of 35 to 46cm, which would certainly be big enough to grab one of the smaller kiddos in his hand if he needed.

- And like Loop, the King can’t glide anymore. He’s weighed himself down by tying the tails of other gliders to his fur, which resembles his hair. The armour also doesn’t help.

I’ve said so much, I’m going to bed now

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology

MDNI | Poly 141 x Fem Fat Reader | masterlist

Part 1: New Girl

You stare up at the sign reading ONE - FOUR - ONE in old English font. It’s an old building, all brick and stuffed in between several others. The windows have a thin, semi-opaque cover them to let in the light without allowing you to see inside.

You make your way to the front door, trying the handle and feeling stupid the moment you do. Your eyes connect with a small intercom beside you and you press it. There’s a small buzz, then silence.

A few beats go by, you debate pressing it again. You don’t want to be too insistent.

“Hello?” A voice comes through just before you reach up to press again.

“I, uh…” You stutter. Despite having many, many tattoos you somehow still feel like a poser every time you enter a new studio. “I have an appointment at one? With John?”

The man on the other side confirms your name before buzzing you in, the door letting out a loud click before you step inside. It both makes you more nervous and more relaxed - you can appreciate a closed storefront like that. Especially for something often as private as tattoos and piercings, but it still feels like you’re doing something wrong. Just a little bit.

The front room is lovely, though. The texture over the glass bathes the front room in a calm, iridescent light. There are a few waiting chairs, a low, black table piled high with books of flash. The front of the high counter is covered with posters and stickers from events going all the way back to the 90s.

The pretty man behind the counter repeats your name absently, obviously thinking about other things. Probably the half-finished design that sits abandoned on the iPad next to the appointment book he’s staring down at. You just nod in agreement.

“I’ll let John know you’re here.” He nods back, turning and pushing through a pair of saloon style doors to disappear down the hall. You take the time he’s gone to look around, flipping through yet another small book of designs on top of the counter. They’re good. Unique. Very gothic and interestingly detailed. Somehow both fine and bold simultaneously.

“Afternoon.” You jump, snapping the book shut and looking up to meet a pair of soft blue eyes and an easy smile. He looks you over briefly before extending his hand. “John Price.”

You murmur your name quietly, trying very hard to not stare at the incredible traditional work patched into a sleeve up his strong arm. Damn.

He leads you back to his work station - past a piercing studio and across from another room with the door shut and an IN SESSION sign on the door. The dull, buzzing sound of a tattoo machine drifts through.

“Now,” John says as he cuts down the extra paper around the stencil. “Just remember if you don’t like the placement we can move it. No problem.”

“Okay.” You nod, appreciative that he mentioned it. Sometimes these older men in the industry are gruff and have an attitude if you do anything less than treat them as if they are anything other than Absolutely Right and Perfect. Not that John came off that way. There’s a softness in his affect that relaxes your muscles and leaves you breathing easy.

“I know y’have several but I’m still going t’do a line and then see how you feel.” He murmurs, voice low.

It’s sweet, the way he’s walking you through it all despite the piece being small and you obviously having done with process several times. The sting of the needle is as expected and you murmur that it was fine before he really gets to work.

“Just let me know if y’need a break…” He mumbles, voice dipping even lower as he concentrates on his work. In any other situation that rumble would probably have you squirming in your seat. There’s a silence for a while before he speaks again, almost as if he forgot you were there. “This design have any significance?”

“I just wanted to get a new tattoo in my new hometown.” You snort - now at the point where most of your tattoos fall under the ‘because it’s cool’ category. “Probably stupid, seeing as I don’t have a job yet but… I don’t know. Feels like good luck.”

John grins. “Well then, thanks f’lettin’ me be your good luck charm.”

Your face heats at the rumble in his voice - glancing away nervously.

There’s another lapse of silence while he works, the only words exchanged are when he asks if you need a break and you decline. Eventually, toward the end you think, he asks another question. “What brought y’here then? If not a job?”

You would shrug, but you try to keep as still as possible while he works. “Just needed a change. Found an apartment easy enough - now I just need a way to make money.”

He hums in agreement. “What do you have experience in? Been around here a while - might be able to recommend somethin’.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You brighten up. “Receptionist work, mostly. Some admin assistant stuff.”

He pauses, cocking an eyebrow. “Y’know, we’re hirin’ right now.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head. “I don’t have, like, a resume with me.”

“You’ve got enough tattoos I’m assumin’ you know how the industry works. My apprentice is going to start actually tattooin’ soon, an’ I hate t’ have him still pickin up extra duties at the front.” He sits back, carefully smoothing saniderm onto your arm before turning and reaching for the ink-stained sketchbook behind him. “Tell y’what, you write down a few references for me and your number. If they’ve got good things t’ say we can do a trial period.”

You blink at him. He’s awful forward, and insistent, but you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. A temp job is better than no job. “Alright…”

Just like that, you gained employment by way of making a stupid financial decision.

John’s an incredible boss. He pays fairly (generously, but you know better than to accidentally negotiate your pay down). He gives you plenty of hours and trains you well - with the help of his apprentice. He doesn’t get annoyed when you ask questions, seeming content with your determination to do your job to the best of your abilities. The shop goes by appointment only - no walk ins and potential customers have to call to book. John keeps things old fashioned like that. All pen and paper and cash transactions. An ATM sits in the waiting area. The most complicated part of your job is changing out the cash box in it, and that only take a few days to learn. Not that you mind, it’s sort of refreshing to not deal with some fuckass new and “improved” register and appointment system.

Turns out part of the reason they operate in such a way (other than preference) is because John is a big name in the tattoo world. You hadn’t realized until he pointed out a couple of your flash tattoos were from his best-selling book of designs.

“Wait, you’re famous!?” You gasp, staring wide eyed at the old binder of newspaper clippings and book sales. ‘My Mum Wasn’t Impressed At First - Now Even She Has One’ reads the title of one of the older clippings - yellowed with age. John lacks his signature beard in the photo. It almost looks wrong.

John chuckles, crossing his arms and leaning back in his rolling chair. “You could say that. You really didn’t know about our shop before you booked?”

You shake your head. “Nah, I just saw y’all get recommended on Reddit.”

He barks out a laugh at that. It’s a low, pleased sound that sends a shiver down your spine. His beard only emphasizes the apples of his cheeks as he smiles. Yeah, that’s the other thing, having a hot boss is kind of fire.

Plus, he’s not the only one. The whole studio is full of hunks.

Kyle is easily the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. Like, run for Miss Universe pretty. Big doe eyes with a little scar on his cheekbone - small golden hoops glitter from both his earlobes. They frame his face so well, creating a perfect diamond from them to his sparkling eyes to his pretty smile; curled and genuine with perfect teeth. He walks you through the booking process step by step, that first day, a warm hand on your back and the other tracing down the columns of the physical appointment book.

His work is as beautiful as he is. At least, the ones done on fake skin. John hasn’t let him tattoo anyone for real yet - but his practice sketches are immaculate. At least to a layman. Kyle himself never seems quite satisfied with them. He gets such vivid color, though.

“Tattooing darker skin is an art form in and of itself.” He murmurs as he works on a piece of very dark fake skin. “I want people like me t’ be able t’ get exactly what they want, with just as much color as they want.”

You nod along, sipping at your coffee from across the street that you’ve taken up stopping at every day before work. Kyle has so much passion for the industry. The look he gets in his eyes while talking about it or designing a new piece makes your heart flutter.

Simon, the other resident artist, you’re the least familiar with. You can’t quite decide how to feel about him, or decipher how he feels about you. John introduced you a couple days after you started, but all you got was a perfunctory nod and a ‘good luck’. You couldn’t help but feel starstruck, despite his blunt nature. Both thick arms covered in full, detailed sleeves. High quality, ornate black work. A man of stature - six feet and some change with a breadth that a barn would envy. Pretty, blonde hair cropped just short of turning to curls and dark eyes that bore through you to the very core.

Sometimes, when he comes to ask about his next appointment, you let yourself indulge in the fantasy that he stands close because he likes you. That his knee briefly knocks against yours because he wants to touch you - not that you’re crazy enough to believe it. Just crazy enough to be a tiny bit delusional for the fun of it.

You meet their resident piercer on the weekend. Apparently, he’d been away visiting family your first week.

He leans up over the counter, grinning at you from ear to ear. A well-built man only a few inches shorter than the others with a perfectly groomed mohawk. “Well, hello there. Aren’t you a bonnie little thing?”

You frown, hackles raising instinctually. “Uh, can I help you?”

“Och, they dinnae tell ye about me yet? I’m hurt.” He pouts, thick brows emphasizing the puppy like nature of his blue eyes.

“Let her be, Soap.” Kyle sighs heavily, walking to his area of the front with a fresh sketchbook.

“Soap?” You repeat.

“Aye. Cause apparently I need my mouth washed out.” He pokes his tongue out, only to reveal a silver piercing. He holds a hand over the counter. “Johnny MacTavish.”

Johnny is the most egregious man you have ever met - always touching you in one way or another when he checks in about appointments and so on. His Scottish brogue rings in your ears, every word loud and confident. A hand finds it’s way around your waist, a finger poking under the band of whatever bottoms you wear that day. At any other job, you would have considered it harassment and tore him a new one.

Johnny’s different, though. If you shrug him off he steps away, if you flinch he pulls back. Plus, he does it to everyone else just as much as you. More, if you’re honest. If Simon is within arms reach they’re touching. You noticed Johnny pushing a hand under his shirt at one point, grabbing at the soft layer over Simon’s abs. (A great view for you, frankly.) Hell, you saw him casually hold Kyle’s hand while they were talking over lunch. Even John isn’t immune to the clinging. You don’t think much of it. Body modding attracts all sorts of people. If Johnny’s just a touchy guy then he’s just touchy. Besides, you don’t mind that much when he slips an arm around your waist or hooks his chin on your shoulder to talk to you. Warm breath tracing the shell of your ear with a quiet ‘bonnie lass’ punctuating ever other sentence. A slight pinch to your hip before he trots away to set up his station.

You feel nauseous when your trial month ends. John sits you down across from him in the back office. A practical space with not much more in it than a desk, computer and the large safe. None of you spend much time back here outside of counting down the cash and dragging the trash bags through the back door to the dumpster.

“Think you’ve done really well, dove.” He grins. You try to ignore the way the pet name looks warmth in your lower belly. “You’ve picked up quickly, you’re good on the phone. Kyle’s been very happy about the extra time to practice.”

You let out the biggest, most relieved sigh of your life, shoulders slumping slightly.

“You don’t seem to mind Johnny, but if he gets to be too much let me or Simon know, yeah? He means well but he can be… well, you know.” John says absently as he reaches for something across the desk. “How are you feelin’?”

You nod. “I, uh, feel good. I like this position a lot. Everyone’s been very welcoming.”

John nods along. “Good, good. I see no reason to not hire you on full time. Here.”

You hold put your hands as John drops a small, silver key into them. Holy shit! You get your own key! Up until now they’d been buzzing you in, but they’re trusting you with your very own key!

John must see the excitement on your face because he chuckles and extends a hand. “Welcome aboard, kid.”

A/N: I was very wine drunk writing most of this and it has next to no editing but I hope you enjoyed it! I just want something I can write that’s episodic and not as serious/brain heavy as Fancy or Across the Way

[mywritersmind]

GETAWAY - FC43

summary : An italian weekend getaway with your favorite loving boyfriend. Filled with strawberries and hammocks.

listen up : inspired by @purinfelix ! super sweet and blue vibes

word count : 884

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I yawn, walking down the kitchen and through the doorway that’s wide open, revealing my favorite part of this house. The balcony is long and filled with a couch, hammock, and table, all overlooking the crystal blue ocean. My feet are cold against the wooden floors but the moment I step outside, the sun warms my face.

I smile softly when I see him. He’s in a chair, quietly looking at the water. I wrap my arms around my lovely boyfriend, my coffee and strawberries in my hands still.

“Morning Mi amor.” His strong arms move so his hand is resting over mine, tilting his hair back so his waves brush the side of my face.

He gets a hold of my arm and gently pulls me around him, motioning to sit on his lap. He puts down his mate and welcomes me to sit on him. I put my breakfast down and wrap my arm around him, looking up into the fact I so love.

Franco’s hand goes to my leg, smiling. “Nice shirt.” I look down at what I'm wearing. It’s his shirt actually. A blue and white striped button down paired with underwear to match.

“Thank you!” I run my hands through his hair, messing it up at bit, “I stole it from a very handsome man!”

He tilts his head a bit, kissing my cheek, “He’s a lucky man.” I rest my head on Franco's shoulder. He smells like peppermint and coffee. He snatches one of my strawberries from my bowl and pops it into his mouth.

I breathe in the fresh air, closing my eyes and smiling. “You’re a vision, mi amor.” He kisses me on my lips this time, brushing my hair back softly.

I fell in love with him because of how soft he is. He never rushed me, never yelled. Him and those big brown eyes do everything to love me.

“What are you thinking about today?” I ask, looking out at the water and birds passing ahead as his lips go to my neck, “Farmers market?”

He hums against my skin, not giving any answer. I can’t even be mad at his lack of words because his lips against me and this morning view is anything I could ever ask for.

⋆༺

Our day is slow and peaceful, his hand never leaves mine and as soon as we get back to the house we change. Franco will go along with anything I do and I may be abusing my power a bit when I see our matching pajamas.

I can’t help but giggle at Franco in the blue and white porcelain design, they’re locally made and absolutely gorgeous. I have the pants and top while he seemed far too happy that they had no other pajama top in his size.

It takes approximately twenty minutes for the two of us to get into the hammock without falling out. He wraps his arm around me as I nuzzle into his chest, looking up at the star filled sky.

“I never want to leave.” He says as jazz plays from his phone across the balcony, “Let’s stay.”

I smile and look up at him, “We have to leave. But we can come back anytime.” I kiss his jaw as his hand brushes up and down my arm.

“I love you.” It makes me smile.

“I love you too.” I wrap my arm around his middle, his shirt soft against my skin. I look back up at the stars, feeling complete peace in the cool air, my warm skin, and my boyfriend next to me.

“Those stars look like a dick.” And he ruins it all in one sentence. I groan and he starts laughing, hard, shaking the hammock.

“Franco!” I scream and hold onto him tighter as we swing, “Fran- I swear!”

He's still laughing, his chest moving up and down rapidly under my head. He holds me tighter as we both try to stay still, “I’m sorry!” He laughs, “I’m sorry! You love me! You can’t be mad!”

“You’re the wor-” I go to jokingly hit his arm but when he moves to block me, we flip.

We’re on the floor and laughing seconds later. Franco grabs my face, trying to be serious but still laughing, “Are you okay!?”

Literal tears are coming out of my eyes which he wipes away with his thumbs, still looking at me worriedly. I just laugh again and pull him closer to me, pressing my lips against mine.

He pushes his hand into my hair, “Did you hit your head?” I shake my head and kiss him again, climbing on top of him.

He laughs against my lips, moving his hands to the side of my legs. “Attempted murder!” He says as I gasp dramatically.

“You were the one who made us fall!”

“Oh no!” His hand goes to my head, “You did hit your head!” I hit his arm as he breaks into laughter again and I move back next to him, looking up at the stars from the floor.

He kisses my head and tugs me against him again, “Those stars look like a heart.”

I raise a brow, “No they don’t.”

He shushes me and points, “Just squint.”

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Basically, it’s discovered that to help stabilize Danielle, aka Ellie, it’d be best to have her be smaller. She refused to be turned into a kid by Frostbite/her own power ability, when Danny remembered the shrink ray his parents made. The side effect is that they’re kind of stuck as humans when they’re that small—they can use some ghost powers, but basically, it’s a weird side effect of the shrink ray. That’s canon, by the fucking way, lmao

Anyways, so Ellie agrees, and Danny will shrink himself with the ray to her size to help her out when needed/when she wants company her size, with Jazz, Sam, and Tucker occasionally helping out. Sam buys one of those really ornate Victorian dollhouses, with wooden everything, and Danny does some… renovations… so that it no longer opens and is a proper house. There’s still some oddities because it’s a dollhouse originally, but it was easier and faster to give her a home. One of the first additions was a water/wastewater system, followed like two hours later by an electrical system. Since it was so small, Danny was able to do it fairly quickly in his big size, occasionally going small and using the small window for using his powers to double check on things.

The water system had to be refilled every week, unless hooked up to a plumbing system in a house, which Danny made some outlets for in Jazz’s room—it was easier and had significantly less questions/didn’t stand out as much if placed in Jazz’s room. They usually did it every three days, though, as the plug-in process was still a bit… hinky. The tanks for holding the water were in the ‘basement’, which was mostly inaccessible from the inside of the dollhouse but basically looked like a big stand the dollhouse stayed on. Like someone ripped a full house out of the ground WITH the basement attached. There was a small access hallway down some stairs in the house for the clean water system, though.

The electric system was fairly simple, as it didn’t cost much energy to light a dollhouse and heat/cool water. There was an AC unit, Ellie’s request, but it hardly was used and was fairly efficient just due to pure size. It was fueled by ecto batteries, which Danny made sure had a few rechargability options—just because it was efficient energy didn’t mean it didn’t ever need recharging. There was a very small ecto filter, but due to its relative small size, was easy to clean and was fairly stable, so they had a whole closet of them just chilling out, both filled and empty. The battery itself could be charged by ecto sources, Danny’s own blood, or ambient ectoplasm gained by using something that looked like a solar panel and a satellite dish had a child that the batter could be placed in. The hookup also allowed for like… normal D cell batteries.

They would buy dollhouse furniture, and occasionally just buy the big version then shrink it down. Ellie had a huge old house to herself, basically, might as well go ham. And she had a fun time with the designer doll clothes Sam liked to get, although the cheap doll clothes from the store were also fun. Best option was just buying normal clothes and shrinking them, but using things that were already small or just making stuff using normal sized objects was fun.

At some point, though, the Fenton siblings decide to go on a trip. Ellie begs to be taken along, and Jazz agrees—there’s a doll showcase in Gotham, and Jazz wanted to see if anything caught Ellie’s interest. Danny, having a room in the dollhouse himself, also went along. Might as well make it a sibling’s trip, right?

Ellie can be full size for small chunks of time, which they did while exploring the expo. They found some cool things to add, and some doll clothes Ellie was far too interested in trying on, as well as some to force on Danny later. He sighed, but like—that’s his little cousin-sister, he’d put up with it. After all, he learned how to plumb an entire (miniature) house in two days when she refused to move in until it had a fully functional bathroom, so.

Anyways!

They have a fun time, and sure, lugging the relatively giant dollhouse was a PAIN, but it was Ellie’s home, and some stabilizing tech made it relatively safe to move without risking everything freaking breaking. They load everything in again, and the dollhouse is now restocked with clothes, tiny furniture, and a lot of shrunken supplies—some foods are just hard to work with full size, and are easier to shrink, okay? Also soap, paper goods, pencils and pens, books, etc. Jazz loads the thing into her car, and Danny offers to stay with Ellie in the dollhouse—so Jazz gets them in, and shrinks them down, holding onto the shrink ray in the meantime.

All is going relatively well in Gotham traffic until there’s a rogue attack.

Go figure.

Jazz ends up unconscious, and Danny and Ellie can’t do anything before the rogue is taken care of and a paramedic team comes up. They hide back in the dollhouse, listening as the medics say she seems to be okay, just unconscious. A relief, but now they’re taking Jazz away. Fenton luck states she’s one of the few actually injured. The Bat Brigade comes by, and Batman notices that there’s a wallet for one Danny Fenton. Red Robin confirms that Jazz was likely here with at least two other people, based on the ticket stubs for the expo. However, there is a strange lack of social media presence, Danny doesn’t have a photo ID, and there’s no way of knowing for SURE that it was just Danny with her, if it was just two other people, or if Danny was in the car with her. Still, as they can’t find him but DO have his sister and his wallet, they assume he might be missing, possibly kidnapped.

The Gotham PD of course take in the car, although it’s pretty trashed. Knowing well and good that the dollhouse and such things are actually quite expensive, Commissioner Gordon mentions that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Batman to maybe hold onto the Fenton’s things that *aren’t* related to the investigation.

Batman just takes everything. Including a rather peculiar looking gun that seems to have sustained some damage during the attack and car crash.

Gordon sighs. Figures.

So, Danny and Ellie end up in Wayne Manor. Most of the things end up in the Batcave, but Alfred insists that they place the doll things upstairs in the manor proper—the cave isn’t *that* damp, but doll things are small and delicate. So, upstairs they go.

At first, it’s fine. Danny and Ellie are fine in the dollhouse, and it’ll be at least a week before any of the systems NEED to be worked with.

Then Ellie ends up with a massive migraine. She gets them, on occasion, a sort of growing pain. Usually, they just shrink some medicine for her as she needs it, because she’s like—twelve. While they did have some medicine that had been pre-shrunk, when they were stocking up in Gotham, it turns out pain medicine was more expensive there. Not by much, but they figured—they’ll just stock up in Amity Park, they’ll be there in two days.

Haha. Nope.

So, Danny finally has to venture out. He lucks into finding the first aid kit—why there was one in the main living room, he’s not sure—and is currently working on trying to get open the blister packet of an ibuprofen when Alfred finds him.

Alfred stares at this tiny boy with a tiny make-shift knife trying to get into… over the counter pain medication.

Danny stares at this butler guy who had very gently cleaned the outside and noted the strange fact that the dollhouse did not open.

Danny waves at Alfred.

Alfred waves a tiny finger back.

“Hello,” Alfred says softly, which is fantastic because loud noises could get painful—part of the reason for Ellie’s headache was an argument between Tim and Damian. “How do you do?”

Danny hesitates, before he makes an exaggerated so-so gesture.

“You understand me?”

Danny nods—it’s rare for people to understand what he’s saying when he’s 5 inches tall.

“How wonderful,” Alfred smiles. “And how can I help our young guest tonight?”

Danny gestures to the blister packet.

“Pain medication? Isn’t that a little bit large for you.”

The teen thinks for a second on how to communicate. He points to the pill, then makes a slight show of pretending to grind something, like a mortar and pestle.

Thankfully, Alfred got the idea. “Would it be easier if I ground it up for you?”

Danny takes a moment to think before accepting with an enthusiastic nod.

“Very well,” Alfred says, taking the blister packet in one hand. He then hold his other out, palm up, like a platform. “Would you like to come with me?”

Danny ‘his survival instincts died when he did’ Fenton gets into Alfred’s hand.

Alfred grinds up the pill into a fine powder. Danny hands him a tiny bottle—still large in Danny’s hands, as it was not a shrunk bottle—that he had tied around his waist. Alfred fills it, and hands it back.

“I assume you came from the tiny house we have in our living room?”

Danny again nods. Alfred takes him there, setting him down outside the front door. Danny bows, and sure it’s Japanese as hell, and he’s white as all get out, but it’s a generally understood gesture of thanks. He hopes.

Alfred understands it just fine. “I bid you goodnight, then. Perhaps we will talk more, when you are feeling better?”

Danny hesitates, again, but he nods. Alfred had been nice enough, so far.

Danny heads in, quickly measuring out the medicine—shrunk pressure plates and scales and weights made what it was measuring relative—to him the weights on the hand balance scale felt the same weight. Ellie got her medicine, and they both went back to sleep.

He told her in the morning what happened. Ellie was strangely gung-ho about meeting this butler guy, and so—when no one else was around—, she and Danny went onto the tiny balcony as Alfred came in to dust.

“Oh my,” he said. “There’s two of you, now. Should I expect more?”

Both of them did an exaggerated ‘no’ dance.

“Very well, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

[odoraful]

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐄𝐘𝐄

it was one of the few days zayne had returned home earlier than sunset. he opened the door to the apartment to find you painting your nails. after a shower and some short pleading on your part, he was seated in front of you, hands laid out on the table for you to do his nails.

content: zayne x fem!reader; established relationship; small banter! ; greyson apperance; ~1k words a/n: i've been dipping in and out of writing, so i thought i'd make something short to get me back into practice :)

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“Hand tremors aren’t good for dexterity, you know,” Zayne quipped, gazing at your expression as you applied the polish.

You looked up at him through your lashes and he smirked at the flat stare you gave him. With a slight tilt of his head, he enjoyed how animated your reactions were to his remarks. Towel-dried hair brushed past his brows, framing his discerning hazel eyes. Did he always need to be this handsome while poking fun at you? Your hands weren’t shaky before, but they certainly felt so now.

“Oh hush.”

Putting the brush back in the bottle to collect more polish, you reset your focus.

“Just ‘cause you’re a surgeon, doesn’t mean you’d make a good nail artist,” you retorted, bringing your eyes back to your work.

You were currently on the last nail, painting it a navy blue to match the others you already finished. Zayne’s nails were well kept and trimmed short, making for a perfect canvas for you. Whilst it was rare for surgeons to wear polish, he assured that it wouldn’t be an issue so long as it did not chip. He wanted you to do it for him, anyway. Having your undivided attention on him was a perfect way to unwind after a long day at the hospital.

“And what other qualifiers need to be met besides a still hand?” he asked, teasing giving way to curiousity.

You finished up the last nail with a few glides of the brush. “An eye for aesthetics,” you declared, moving the blue nail polish aside and selecting two more colours among your collection.

“Now, pick the colour for the design.”

You presented two colours to him. A cool silver embedded with fine glitter, and a rustic gold. His eyes flicked between the two. Mind having been made up almost the second you asked.

“Silver.”

You hummed. “An excellent choice.” Shaking the polish, the glitter dispersed throughout. “Perhaps you might consider nail tech as a side job, Dr Zayne.”

Waiting for his nails to dry before you could begin the next layer, you lightly fanned them with both your hands. He chuckled—both at your comment and your cute attempt to try and speed the drying process.

“My primary job keeps me busy enough,” he replied. “Besides, I don’t have much of an eye for aesthetics.”

You were reminded of the palette of his closet. Blacks, greys, browns, and the only splash of colour being a deep green shirt. Though somewhat monotone, it did suit him well.

He continued, “I think I’ll leave that expertise up to my girlfriend.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Mouth opened ever so slightly, not wanting to reveal the way every use of that nickname slipped under your skin and made your heart skip.

You began to draw tiny snowflakes on each of them with the silver polish. Zayne admired the furrowed concentration on your face as you were locked into this task. When the design had dried, you finished by squeezing some cream onto his hands. He let out a soft sigh as you massaged it in, feeling the tension of the day release under your gentle touch.

Once you were done, you stretched your arms out and twisting around to crack your back. You held his fingers in your hands, inspecting them.

“Look how pretty they are!” You bubbled.

Zayne was honestly floored. The level of coordination it took to paint something so small was incredible.

“They’re very pretty indeed.”

You were too enthralled by your own work to see the warm smile on his face at how satisfied you were.

“Now, that’ll be sixty dollars,” you said, looking up at him smugly, placing your hands on your hips in waiting.

Zayne lifted a brow. “Do you accept payment in desserts?”

“Hm… an interesting offer,” you placed a hand on your chin in mock thought. “What kind?”

“Will each flavour of macaron at the shop that just opened suffice?” he replied. The sparkle in your eyes signalled that it was more than enough to cover the cost of your service. Promptly, the two of you went outside to resolve his payment. You walked hand in hand, matching one another with freshly painted nails.

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EPILOGUE

At Akso Hospital the next day, peoples’ gazes lingered a little too long on Zayne. As he handed out folders to nurses and gestured to screens when presenting, eyes trailed on his hands. Now, it wasn’t unusual for doctors to wear polish, but it was unusual for Zayne to have it. Another layer of mystery to unravel about the cardiac surgeon.

Greyson entered Zayne’s office to drop off some documents, sliding them towards him on his desk. “Going to some fancy event later?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses, not looking away from his computer screen. “Unless you consider a seminar at the university as fancy, I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

He gestured towards the keyboard Zayne was typing on. “I’m talking about your nails! Don’t tell me you really just got them done for fun?” Greyson asked, incredulous.

“I did.” Zayne splayed his hand out. “Is that so strange?”

“No! Not at all!” Greyon reassured, shaking his head fervently. “They do look nice though,” he admitted. “Maybe I should get their number so I can get mine done too.”

“She doesn’t take up new clientele, unfortunately,” Zayne said, resuming his typing.

At such a quick defence, Greyson immediately clocked who this person was. He was one of the few that were privy to the relationship between you and Zayne, and he knew only you could make Dr Zayne change up his style.

Exaggerating a sigh, he turned to leave. “A true shame! She sure seems talented.”

“I’ll make sure to pass that on to her,” he heard Zayne reply. Though his back was to Zayne, the smile in his voice as he answered was undeniable.

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[lovelybucky1]

1.The Interview

main masterlist

go greek masterlist

“So you’re interested in being our frat sweetheart?” Joaquin asks, a comically confused look on his face. He holds your resume in his hand but hasn’t read a single word on it.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” you say, now matching his confusion. “The position is open, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s open. I guess I’m just confused about why you’d want it. I mean…” he looks down at your resume and begins reading. “Secretary of the Environmental Action Club, Co-Editor of the newspaper, English Honors Society, Treasurer of the Feminism Collective. This is all very impressive, but I gotta say, you’re not the usual frat sweetheart type.”

“Well, involvement in Greek Life looks good on resumes and I’m not interested in joining a sorority, so I thought this was the next best thing,” you explain.

Joaquin nods in understanding. “Got it. I’m gonna be completely honest here, I’m not really sure how an interview for this kind of thing is supposed to go. Usually, sweethearts are just one of the guy’s girlfriends, but we’re all single. All the other frats have someone to design cool posters and take pictures and stuff, and we need to look appealing to the PNMs.”

“I do have experience doing social media for the Environmental Club, and I did photography for the Theater department last semester. I’m pretty crafty so I’m sure I can make some party decorations and stuff like that.

Joaquin leans back in the wooden chair that’s likely older than him. He crosses his arms over his chest and the muscles in his arms bulge against his shirt sleeves. “You are definitely way overqualified for us. I just have one more question,” he says. “Do you party?”

You pause. You knew your personal social life would come into question eventually. It’s not like you don’t have friends, you have a great network of people you love to spend time with. You just happen to spend that time doing things other than blacking out and vomiting on a basketball player’s shoes in a sweaty basement.

“Is that a requirement of the job?” you counter.

“Being the sweetheart is more than just a job. Like, yeah, you’ll have responsibilities, but you’ll also be a member of the frat. We strongly encourage all the guys to attend the parties. It’s the whole brotherhood part of it. You wouldn’t have to go to all of them if you don’t want to, but making an appearance at least a couple times a month would be best.”

You suppose a couple of parties a month wouldn’t hurt. You have been meaning to get out more anyway.

“I think I can manage that,” you smile.

“Perfect! Do you have any questions?” You shake your head. “Then I think we have just found the newest member of SAE.”

He grins cheerfully and extends his hand for you to shake. His grasp is firm and warm, and it lingers a touch too long. Before he could say anything else, two men walk through the front door.

You turn around and find Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, the President and Treasurer. You recognize them from the sports articles you’ve read in the paper. Print certainly doesn’t do the pair justice, because you had no idea that guys this attractive even went to your college.

“Buck, Steve, I want you to meet our sweetheart!” he says.

You can’t help but feel a bit shy in front of them, but you smile and introduce yourself as normally as possible. Steve gives you a charming, classic Hollywood smile and you almost swoon. Bucky is just as handsome but in a rougher way that screams trouble.

They’re both sweaty and flushed, fresh from practice. They’re holding lacrosse sticks and wearing matching team backpacks like you’ve seen all the student-athletes have. Steve is in a red Stark University tee and Bucky is in a black crewneck sweatshirt with the same logo.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Steve says. “I know being a sweetheart has a certain reputation, but I promise you that nothing like that is expected of you.” You’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to, but you could take a pretty good guess. One woman in a house full of frat guys… It doesn’t take a genius.

“That’s reassuring, thank you,” you smile. It feels weird to be thanking him for not wanting to sleep with you, but you weren’t sure what else to say.

“Are you free tomorrow at 4? We have a chapter meeting and I’d love for you to meet the guys,” Steve asks.

“Yes, I’m free,” you say. “Are meetings every Sunday?”

“More or less. It really depends on how hungover everyone is,” he jokes. That smile is blinding. “But none of the teams have practice that late on Sundays and everyone is usually free, so that’s when we try to do them. We’d really like it if you came to as many events as possible to take pictures and stuff, but also because you’re a member too.”

“Sounds good to me,” you say.

Bucky is still standing next to Steve but lets him do all of the talking. He seems more focused on trailing his eyes over every inch of your body. You dare a glance, and the smirk that forms on his lips when your eyes meet is nothing short of devilish.

“We don’t wanna take up any more of your time, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than let Steve talk your ear off” Bucky chimes in, nudging his friend with his elbow.

“I do have some work I need to catch up on,” you say, then immediately regret it. Why did you have to pick the lamest thing to say? Bucky and Joaquin share a look, both with a small smirk on their lips.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Steve asks.

“Take a load off, Steve. I can do it,” Bucky offers.

“Really, guys, you just came back from practice. I can walk her back,” Joaquin chimes in.

You look between the three of them, wide-eyed. You’ve never had this much attention from guys who looked this good before.

“It’s okay!” You speak up. “I can walk by myself, it’s not a problem.”

The three are unfazed by the rejection. “Okay, but you’re part of the family now. We’ve all got your back,” Steve says.

You nod in understanding and wish them a good evening before hurrying out the door, not wanting to make a bigger fool of yourself. You’re not sure how it turned from a professional interview, something you’ve done a thousand times, to you becoming a flustered mess.

As you walk down the sidewalk back to your building, you shake your head. This is just another club you’ve joined. It can’t be different than running the newspaper or the painting club. And those guys were just being friendly, there’s no reason to look into it any deeper than that.

[zyk1ng]

I was gonna make this post way way earlier but I forgot lol but Uhm

I have played through the splatoon 2 story fully and am replaying it (for a future post bc a lot of the dialogue is rlly funny) and honestly while I absolutely loved it it makes me even sadder that splat 2’s story mode was kinda tossed aside (for valid reasons ofc) because it’s so Cool.

Excluding the gameplay, I think they did marie so well, because she sells the desperation of someone who’s got nobody she knows by her side. While she of course keeps the sassy attitude of sneak dissing her best friends (agent 3) and also telekinetically telling you to fuck off if you talk to her too much it’s very clear she genuinely cares so much about agent 4 and is so grateful they’re doing what they do.

these are only two screenshots of 8(?) of Marie randomly being really sentimental to 4 because this stranger chose to help her in her time of need rather than just ignore this GROWN WOMAN hanging out on a sewer drain

It’s like heavily emphasized multiple times that Marie could not be more grateful for 4’s help in retrieving not just the zapfish but also her cousin.

But then revealing that 4 knew about Callie the WHOLE TIME (I have a lot to say about this part but it’s mostly hc so) which is so KIND OF THEM???? this random woman recruits them into a secret military agency and hides the fact she rlly misses her cousin but they help anyway bc they WANT TO. (They didn’t even know either of them were famous btw) Marie shows a lot of gratitude toward 4 ESPECIALLY after the big reveal.

(You could make arguments for 3 being similar bc an old kook made them do it but this isn’t about them..)

And it’s not just being grateful for the one time, she genuinely enjoys 4’s company and wants to be better friends with them and chat after the zapfish and Callie are saved 😭😭😭

It’s so cute too, because 100%ing the game and even just being a little nosy is something that Marie picks up on, and remembers way later in the game. (More abt this later)

god I love this socially inept squid woman and her adopted child soldier that likes finding pieces of paper

Speaking of said soldier! I think the way they characterized 4 via the actual gameplay rather than art/statements/whatever is so cool

4 doesn’t have many illustrations besides the chaos splatfest and that one group photo where they’re being funky in the corner (and the apartment) but I feel like the reason for that is the fact that a lot of Marie’s dialogue as well as how splatoon 2’s hero mode is structured/designed speaks a lot about how they wanted to represent 4.

From a realistic standpoint, of course splatoon 2’s story mode has to be more creative both prompt wise and secret wise. But it feels like the reason its that way is because both 4 and Marie are separate types of people from Craig and 3.

The bosses help a lot with this too, being more gimmicky and weird (subtracting stamp.) Octo shower and samurai being bosses where you have to either react well or change your positioning to effectively beat them. (Octo shower is my fave btw I loved fighting it the first time)

The level design also shines in this aspect because if I’m honest I remember none of the splat 1 levels significantly besides the few octoling ones. Splatoon 2’s levels are very detailed (and also insanely pretty) and have some rlly fun puzzles in a handful of them and even the more fast ones are a blast to play through

And then all the little extras (sardiniums and scrolls alike) are hidden so well and you usually have to go out of your way to find them and even the secrets that aren’t either of those things have substance

Small note, a lot of extras are also made so that it flows well with the levels design (like the first dualie request mission) which is also extremely fucking cool.

the way marie touches on those little discoveries is so smart too because it (as I said before) characterizes 4 as someone who loves to look for things even if it’s on a whim especially since the sunken scrolls in the game are so much harder to find than in splat1.

And the fact that unlike splat 1, you can (technically) 800% the game by playing EVERY SINGLE LEVEL WITH EVER SINGLE WEAPON TYPE. to me it feels like it deepens the fact that 4 likes to be really thorough. marie goes “you have a problem.” When you break like two hidden egg crates in this one level and it’s so great.

I love what they’ve done with 4, whether it was intentional or I’m over-analytical.

Nothing gets past them, looking in every nook and cranny whether or not there’s secrets to be found. They’re too nosy and thorough and they like to be around marie after completing missions, they don’t know who the squid sisters are, hate balloons, may or may not be ok, have impulsive secret finding, partake in many extracurriculars, can be needy at times, go with the flow and they apparently smell better than agent 3.

Agent four, of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

[sofiasfanartcollection]

<3<3<3 I love it so much

A new chapter? In this economy? And it's a Ron and Leo chapter? Yeah, it sure is. This one's for you, Sofia!

[ryemackerel]

“matt.”

“Yeah?”

“you’re a dumbass. hope you know that. (smooch)”

Redraw of an old TomMatt piece from March 2024 :-] Jesus christ their designs changed a LOT since then.

I debated whether to use 2SEATER, Some, or Rapp Snitch Knishes because my god I love their themes so much. TomMatt playlist my beloved.

My favorite ship in the world, and I’ve not once even thought of a headcanon duo name for them. So I just call them Blurple for now until I can find something HAHA. I love you TomMatt.

They’re both huge dumbasses. Matt is a literal magnet to Tom and she loves clinging onto him so much. Tom lives for physical affection, and even though he PRETENDS to be completely indifferent to it, he literally LIVES for being held by Matt.

You put these two in the same room and they’ll never let each other go. They love being dumb and silly around each other. You have very energetic hyperactive vampire man and very quiet and huggable hermit.

Sometimes Matt can bring up a million topics all at once, change topics every 5 seconds, and Tom is just completely quiet, listening to all of it and going “uh huh” “cool” “okay” HAVSHSAAHGA

I just had this thought as well while drawing them but. they kind of remind me of guitar dads. Mfs who are autistic as hell about band shit, and I can see in the good Future timeline they’d probably look like guitar dads too LOL.

[welcome-to-green-hills]

With Sonic 3 out, may I request post-Sonic 3 headcanons with the Wachowski family? Shadow and Maria headcanons are a plus too. 🥰

Hey Darlin’!���️✨

I think that I can whip up a few headcanons for you, yeah!

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles were 100% there to make sure that Tom woke up from the hospital. They’re the type of kids to sleep on the hospital bed as well and wait for him to wake up. When Tom did, he was greeted with tears, laughs, and a shit ton of hugs.

Maria and Shadow have a Friday night ritual that they’ve pinky swore to each other that they’d never break. At exactly 7pm, Maria and Shadow scatter across the bunker in search of snacks and loose bedding to build a “nest” within their fort. After they’ve retrieved their goods, they building their nest and wrap themselves up tightly to watch very old, very cheesy horror film until midnight. It’s part of their ritual to watch “The Birds” and laugh at the visual effects.

Tom and Maddie are both the type of parents to ask each other to send photos of their kids to make sure that they’re okay. However, each photo update that they send one another is a highly comical photo that they’ve edited.

Maria was totally a theater kid. She absolutely put on two-actor plays and dragged Shadow along with her. The scientists agreed that their version of Grease was the best.

The Wachowski family have created a “Family Map” of all of the places that they’d like to travel to. Each destination is marked with a family member’s icon (Tom is a donut, Maddie is a pretzel, Sonic is a sneaker, Tails is a wrench, and Knuckles is a fist) on the place that they’d like to vacation to. This is usually done with a leisure roadtrip by RV so the family can look at roadside attractions to the destination.

Shadow and Maria are avid readers. They can power through a novel in an entire afternoon. Shadow has an interest in human history and has read through many books of human civilization, Maria adores mythology and has read every book that she could get her hands on about all of the myths found in different parts of the world.

The Wachowski family has officially banned UNO from their household. They can’t handle another—literal—fire burning the table.

Shadow and Maria are banned from the bunker’s kitchen. They’re never allowed to attempt to make dinner by themselves due to setting the room on fire. This is what happens when neither of them pay attention to the frozen pizza that they’re making in the oven and forget to remove the wrapping.

Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Wade regularly play extreme hide-and-seek. The boys have 24 hours to hide within the town of Green Hills without getting caught. Hiders are free to roam anywhere within the set parameters laid out in the map, but not leave the designated area. The last to be found wins prizes from the lost and found bin at the Green Hills Sheriff’s Department. An alternative (usually proposed by Knuckles) is to get free dessert for an entire week at any point in time.

Shadow and Maria are competitive Connect Four players. Extremely competitive.

Maddie has an odd collection of things that her boys find her throughout their morning runs. Sometimes Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles bring her rocks and acorns that “looked cool.” Other times it’s random things that they’ve found on the side of the road, like a shoe or a toy car. Her favorite thing that the boys have given her was a rock in the shape of a heart.

When Pong was released in 1972, Shadow and Maria were practically glued to the TV screen and played for hours before Gerald had to hide the gaming device. Maria was missing school work and Shadow was absent from testing too much.

And finally, both families are no stranger to hugs. Why? Because I say so.

[erose-this-name]

Kabru is such a brilliantly written character, one of the best in Dungeon Meshi (which is a high bar as it is, most of the main cast are similarly genius). 

His thing is that he is very friendly and nice confident and maxed out his charisma stat, but is also kinda ambitious and manipulative. But not in an overtly malicious way. Which kinda scares me.

The most impressive thing about him, writing wise, is that it’s all show-don’t-tell. He very frequently uses his charm and empathy and understanding of how people think in really clever ways.

We’re often walked through his thought process of how he does these social deductions. We’re never told he’s scarily charismatic, besides other characters reacting to him being scarily charismatic.

Kabru is a natural-born leader and social engineer with superlative skills in both, which makes him the perfect foil for Laios, who’s too autistic and unambitious that he’s not even the de facto leader of his own party that he’s the official leader of. He’s so bad at leadership that his party just, sort of, doesn’t have a leader. They just kinda argue and do stuff.

What’s also neat, and perfectly inline with Meshi’s general theme of clever and logical subversions of fantasy tropes, is that Kabru’s character design in no way clues us in on this fundamental character trait of his.

He’s sort of a human fighter / knight archetype, which in the language of fantasy RPGs is a class most would associate with being a white bread jock, chivalrousness optional.

(Laios subverts the same trope in the same way. It’s really funny that the walking exposition dump of the group looks like the character creator default preset spec’d as the most generic class available.)

If Kabru was a bard or noble and Laios a wizard, their character traits would be far less interesting

Even better is that we would expect someone who looks like Laios to have Kabru’s personality, and vice versa. Their character designs are flipped; the confident super charismatic leader is a short wide-eyed twink, while the slightly naive and very autistic monster enthusiast is a tall conventionally attractive Aryan lookin’ mf.

(see what I mean by Kabru being such a good foil for Laios?? No wonder everyone ships them, they’re perfect for each other!)

Yet, their designs also work for them. Kabru just has a face that’s easy to talk to, his piercing blue eyes and curly hair gives him a false sense of naïveté, while his iconic 👁️👁️ expression hints that there’s actually quite a bit going on inside his head. Meanwhile, Laios believably looks like someone who doesn’t know what hair conditioner is. His armor’s collar gorget thing is also pretty dorky.

You can’t trust people like that (I mean overly charismatic people with a manipulative streak, not blue-eyed twinks) because you can’t know what their real motives are. You can’t know they aren’t pretending, you can’t know they aren’t trying to or haven’t already manipulated you. How could you? When he has so much more social intelligence than you do, average socially awkward Tumblr user? He’s touched all the grass!

In episode 16 (spoilers, btw) Kabru finally meets Laios’s party, who he’s been trying to find and fight for the better part of the season, and he just decides that no confrontation is necessary. Like, immediately upon meeting the guy. Just from how Laios looked at him. He figures that since Laios didn’t seem to recognize him, they either have never met meaning he has the wrong guy, or Laios forgot meaning he didn’t think it’d be a big deal, meaning the treasure was a trap or something. Which is pretty in line with Kabru’s established ability to always roll nat 20s for every charisma and deductive reasoning check, so cool.

But he doesn’t even seem curious about which of those cases is true. (He might be interested to find out some of the treasure wasn’t dangerous, but accidentally got thrown off a bridge). Much to Rin’s dismay, he’d rather just not bring it up because that could upset the leader of the party he might be working with for the foreseeable future.

Actions speak louder than words. So, all we really learn in this scene is that Kabru’s goals and M.O. can change on a dime, and that he values reputation and political capital more than money and vengeance. More than his own party’s desire for those things. Not only is he someone with a silver tongue, but he knows its value and is determined to use it at every opportunity.

Kabru and his party might not be very good at fighting or surviving in the dungeon, in fact their frequent TPKs are a running gag. But, he also doesn’t need to be when he can just manipulate Laios’ and Shuro’s much more proficient parties into helping him.

So far, Kabru seems like the most likely one to become king of the dungeon or whatever the mcguffin is. He is the only protagonist so far who has said that’s an actual goal of his. He’s said that he doesn’t think someone like Laios who isn’t a born leader should get it.

In fact, Kabru seems to have very strong opinions on what kinds of people should be allowed to adventure in the dungeon, evidenced by the fact that he murdered an entire party over it, justified or not. Kabru seems to think that Kabru is such a leader, and he’s probably right about that, but what kind of leader? 

What would Kabru do with that kind of power if he gets it? Because I’m not sure. All I know is that he is the kind of person with the ability to use real political power to its full potential. For good, or for very, very bad.

I’m not saying that Kabru is evil or that he’s secretly gonna be the surprise villain. I dunno, I haven’t read the manga. He could just be a nice guy that’s just, like, is like that. Everything he’s done could be justified by the explanations he’s given. He actually reminds me a lot of one of my IRL friends, and I’d trust him with my life.

But, I can’t help but feel a distinct sense of unease whenever he’s on-screen. I try not to trust confident natural-born leaders like him right out of the gate. I don’t like that our instinct as humans is to blindly follow them without thinking about it.

Tyrants and psychopaths also use confidence and charm and a friendly demeanor to make people think they’re a good guy, while manipulating everyone into thinking their self-serving actions are altruistic. Benevolent, confident, skilled leaders do exist. But there exists many more snakes wearing their skin. Wolves rarely bother with sheep’s clothing, they dress as shepherds and sheepdogs.

Anyway, my point is that I think it’s kinda neat that it’s possible to overthink this much about a character whose probably just a nice guy that is the mirror opposite of an autistic person. Writing that kind of ambiguity is hard, and employing it in this way is inspired.

[insidekatmind]

The Fascination with Tattoos~Levi Colwill

A minute of silence to appreciate him and his tattoos!

Your gaze is lost on Levi's arm, as it happens far too often. You’re both sitting on the couch at home, enjoying a quiet evening after a long day. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt, leaving his tattoos clearly visible as they wind along his muscular arm. Each line seems to tell a story, each design captures your attention. You can’t look away, and when you realize it, he’s already watching you with that mischievous smile that always makes you blush.

"Do you like what you see, love?" he asks, his voice warm and tinged with amused curiosity.

You quickly avert your gaze, embarrassed, trying to mask the heat rising to your cheeks. "I was just... thinking about what to cook tomorrow," you lie awkwardly.

Levi chuckles, leaning a little closer. "Sure, sure. So why were you staring at my arm for at least five minutes?"

You sigh, knowing you can’t escape his observation. "It’s just that... your tattoos are so beautiful. I can’t help but look at them."

He leans in even closer, propping his elbow on the back of the couch, his tattooed arm right in front of your face. "Oh, really? Which one’s your favorite?"

You bite your lip, hesitating. "The one with the roses. It’s so detailed, it almost looks real."

Levi raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your answer. "The roses, huh? I didn’t think you were into flowers."

You shrug, trying to play it cool. "I’m romantic, didn’t you know?"

"I know very well," he replies, leaning even closer. His arm is now practically under your nose, and you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Do you want to touch it?"

Your heart races, and you look at him with wide eyes. "What?"

He laughs softly, his voice a perfect blend of sweetness and teasing. "I said, do you want to touch it? I know you’re dying to."

You bite your lower lip, but eventually, you give in. Reaching out, you lightly trace the black lines of the tattoo with your fingers. Levi’s skin is warm under your touch, and he watches your every movement closely, as if you’re uncovering a secret.

"You really like it, huh?" he asks in a lower tone, almost whispering.

"I like everything about you," you admit, your voice a bit more confident now. "But the tattoos... they’re fascinating. They say so much about you."

Levi smiles, but there’s something different in his eyes now—a mix of pride and desire. "You know I got them to mark important moments in my life, right? But now, you’re making me want to get another one, just for you."

You look at him, surprised. "For me?"

He nods, his gaze serious but tender. "Yeah. Something that represents you, us. Maybe your name, or something only we’d understand."

Your heart tightens at the thought. "That would be amazing. But are you sure? I don’t want you to get a tattoo just to make me happy."

He takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to. You know how much my tattoos mean to me, and you’re such an important part of my life. Why not celebrate that?"

You look into his eyes, feeling the love behind his words. "Then I want you to choose the design. Something that reminds you of me but also has meaning for you."

Levi smiles, pulling you closer for a kiss that’s sweet yet intense. "You’re incredible, you know that?"

After a few minutes, when you’re both lying on the couch again, he can’t resist teasing you one last time. He lifts his tattooed arm, showing off the details you adore so much. "So... how many times a day do you think about my tattoos?"

You laugh, hiding your face against his chest. "Too many to admit."

He wraps his arms around you, laughing with you. "Perfect, because I want you to keep it that way. And next time, I promise I’ll get something special inked, just for you."

[hellequinist]

ok had some proper time to digest whatever the fuck happened in the world of ghost so. yapping/rambling session because perpetua and copia already foil each other so much just solely based on designs and im losing my marbles

ive seen some miscellaneous thoughts floating around so some of them may be echoed here but. yeah

im especially going insane over the potential sun/moon dynamic shenanigans we can get here… copia’s colors are blue and gold (apologies, i don’t know specific colors) whereas perpetua appears to be purple and silver. now, gold and silver have obvious relevance, both being metals commonly used for jewelry and whatnot. blue and purple, however, are more interesting choices. typically, sun + moon shenanigans are represented w/ blue and yellow, so having purple instead is a Choice. yet, it fits — especially given the shades they’re wearing, purple can represent the night sky whereas the blue can represent the daytime sky. combine that with the metals, you get the sun/blue sky and the moon/night sky. a lot of copia's little designs on his outfit resemble stars as well.

and this especially comes into play w the eclipse shown during the rhrn montage when imperator sees her life flash before her eyes. i saw a comment somewhere suggest that this could represent perpetua eclipsing copia, or surpassing him.

and then in addition, we have perpetua’s cool ass metal gloves + metal looking mask too. like yeah its a half mask bc its toblerone but also like. having a mask on skull paint which already should be kinda masking half ur face is. An Interesting Concept and i definitely think theres more to be said about it... almost like double masking in a sense??

a lot of the glittery stuff on copia also feels equally distributed across the entire design, whereas w perpetua it's really concentrated on his specific accessories/jewelry. like copia's entire outfit is Sparkly As Fuck...

shoutout to my friend (@galaxy-of-me) for pointing this out but even their face paint differs in the balance between black and white. copia’s facepaint is mostly all white, with the black being used to distinguish the little jaw bones or lack of them in skeletons. however, perpetua’s black skullpaint has the opposite effect. it highlights kinda the “main” parts of his face (and helps to highlight the mask).

also the design of their clothes is interesting. like, copia's reads w more circles/curves whereas perpetua's feels more rigid and sharp. something something shape language. it also stands out to me how copia's has like. a solid blue that's divided on the front of his chausible by black whereas perpetua's is just solid black solely divided in the middle by purple. this is also seen w the mitres...

ok and. back designs from that really quick camera shot we got. idk what colors it's gonna Specifically be but you can already see some kinda lace thingies on perpetua which is cool... like i'm not sure if this is a cape of sorts (since copia's is more of a cape) so idk if it's fair to draw Exact Comparisons here... but on another note the lappets/ribbons from the mitre are also diff. copia has star looking things (again) whereas perpetua's are more rounded/oval shaped (sun and moon content AAAAUUGHHHHHHHH).

and then in regards to lore like. if we assume that satanized really is perpetua's backstory (I HOPE IT IS!!) it would make their backstories like. Very Opposite. i think it's commonly believed that copia grew up in the clergy or wtv under sister, but then this would mean perpetua possibly grew up in the catholic church or in an abbey of sorts. so, already they grew up in different environments and thus have different viewpoints on a Lot of things. i am SO excited to see how this is gonna play out oh my days

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Thomas, Engineer

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know I could have guessed it, but you guys are way better at this than me,” Thomas said, running a hand through his curly brown hair.

“That is only natural, as our programming and design allow for rapid reflex and dexterous manipulation of our extremities,” Sixer said.

Thomas had invited the Padrino back to his quarters for an impromptu fighting game tournament. Sixer and Mace both attended, as well as one of the Galley named Odis, another of the engineers, and of course Roomba was there, though he was having difficulty handling the controller since it was about as big as he was.

Odis and Roomba had already been knocked out, the Galley by elimination and Roomba by… technical knockout, so it was just Thomas and Sixer left. Mace had winner.

“I refuse to lose, especially not while I’m wearing my lucky shirt,” Thomas said. Odis snorted, but the Padrino spun their heads to face him.

“Human Thomas, please explain how the apparel you are wearing will enhance your performance in this competition,” Mace asked, his synthetic voice as unchanging as always.

“Does the apparel provide some sort of stimulant to your body that will change the outcome of this match?” Sixer accused.

“No, nothing like that, it’s just lucky,” Thomas said.

“Please explain,” Mace pressed.

“Gimme a sec, round three is starting, I got this,” Thomas assured himself.

The game was human designed, an indie title called Galactic Brawl! It was your typical fighting game, but it was making the rounds on Earth due to it using characters similar to GAIL member species locked in mortal combat. The humans had assured the intergalactic market that it wasn’t in anyway meant to be detrimental to universal relationships, but to expose humans to other species in a fun and interesting way that younger humans would enjoy. Plus it made the other species look ‘very cool’, which the GAIL members were assured was a good thing.

The players were 1 win a piece, so this would be the tie breaker. Naturally the players had chosen their own race for the game, something Odis and Thomas thought was quite funny, although the characters were caricatures of the real thing. Very buffed up, with bigger action hero muscles and such.

Buttons were mashed, triggers were pulled, combos were pulled off, and Sixer had him on the ropes. But then Thomas got the BRAWL POWER meter all the way up and executed his ultimate move flawlessly, and came out with the win.

“Yes! I told you, lucky shirt!” Thomas cheered, Odis laughed so hard he fell over, and the Padrino sat there looking as dumbfounded as they could without actual faces.

“Please explain,” they said in unison.

“The shirt?” Thomas pulled the hem of the shirt down so they all could see its glory, a ratty old gray Tee with the sleeves cut off. It had smudged names all over both the front and back. “I got it at this punk concert right before I went into the academy, got all the band members to sign it for me after the show! Good show, too, they came into the crowd while they were still playing, and…”

“Easy, humy, just tell us why the shirt is lucky,” Odis said, tossing back some chips.

“Right, yeah. So I wore this shirt for every test, quiz, and exam I ever got during my training, aced all of them with flying colors. Scored me both a guy’s and a girl’s number on the same day, that was cool, and I was wearing it when I applied for my post on the Noah,” Thomas explained. “Bad things do not happen when I’m wearing the lucky shirt.”

“Yeah, they’re not gonna get that,” Odis said smirking.

“Human Thomas, explain this luck phenomenon,” Sixer requested.

“See?” Odis said. “The humans have this thing, they call it ‘being superstitious’, it’s something the humies believe controls the universe.”

“Explain,” requested Mace.

“Okay, so there’s, like, good luck, where good things will happen if you have it, or bad luck, where bad things happen,” Thomas said, trying to explain. “Think of it this way. It’s like little random acts turn out in your favor if you have good luck, like finding money on the ground or it’s pizza day in the cafeteria.”

“And bad luck breaks your mom’s back or something, right?” asked Odis, laughing.

“Yeah, if you step on a crack in the road or something,” Thomas said. “Or breaking a mirror gets your seven years bad luck.”

“You humies believe the most ridiculous things,” Odis said.

“There are acts that can accumulate negative impacts to your existence?” Mace asked.

“Totally man, tons of them. Like last week, I was having lunch in the mess hall, spilled salt everywhere!”

“And this entails what?” Sixer asked.

“Well it’s supposed to invite enmity and future problems, but I threw some over my left shoulder, so it was fine.”

“You humans are so gullible,” Odis said. “This is why we came to earth so often to mess with you.”

“Tell that to the shirt man,” Thomas said.

“So the garment has… accumulated ‘good luck’, therefore you remain in a sustained field of positive chaos,” Sixer said.

“I guess, yeah,” Thomas said. He’d never heard it described that way before, it was probably the most scientifically accurate portrayal of ‘luck’ he’d ever heard.

“You two are not gonna make sense of this, it’s an illogical belief from a less evolved lifeform,” Odis said. “Next thing you know, the kid is going to tell you he doesn’t walk under ladders or let black cats cross his path.”

“First off, I love all cats,” Thomas said indignantly, “secondly, how do you know so much about earth superstitions?”

“Earth movies. You think you can keep the Galley in the dark? We’ve been sneaking onto Earth for generations.”

“Riiight,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Reminder: engineering staff are to head to the WARP core at 1900 hours for new maintenance procedures]

“Oh, man, is it that time already? We better head out,” Thomas said, zipping up his jumpsuit over his lucky shirt. “Thanks Roomba, I totally forgot the time.”

“Beep.”

[Acknowledgments: you’re welcome]

“Smarter every day, good for you buddy. Alright, come on guys, let’s get to the core before Chief Nivan sticks us on plumbing duty,” Thomas clapped his hands together, ushering everyone out of the room.

“Human Thomas, if we may make a request, may we continue to observe you? This ‘lucky shirt’ phenomenon may lead to some observational data previously unknown to us,” Sixer said.

“Sure guys, whatever you need.”

“You’re not gonna get any data,” Odis chided. “The kid is just going to confuse you both.”

“Regardless, we will continue to observe,” Mace said.

The group made their way to the lifts, Odis still grumbling about how stupid the idea of a lucky shirt was, lucky anything really, the whole time. Thomas tried to explain, saying there were tons of lucky objects on Earth, like the rabbit’s foot.

“You mutilate another lifeform for its appendage just to positively charge your own chaos?” Mace asked, surprised.

“That seems counterproductive to what you have described as Karma,” Sixer said.

“Yeah, that wasn’t great, admittedly. Ancient Earthlings weren’t great at critical thinking yet. These days we have synthetic feet, so that doesn’t happen anymore, I don’t think. I got one on my keys, see?” Thomas pulled a key ring out of his pocket and showed off the foot.

“Double luck today,” he said, smiling.

“Fascinating,” the Padrino said in unison.

“Weird,” said Odis.

“Beep.”

[Request: game pad, please?]

Thomas stuffed his keys back in place and pulled the pad out, giving it to the tiny droid on his bag. Roomba had recently started a new game, having earned the highest score possible on PAC-MAN a few cycles previously. Now he’d moved on to Galaga, another port Thomas had made.

“Beep.”

[Information available]

“Hmm?” Thomas looked at Roomba in his bag.

“Beep.”

[Statement: this new game is stimulating]

“Oh my god you’re so freaking cute Roomba,”Thomas gushed. The little droid was getting smarter by the day thanks to the cognitive upgrade the Padrino had given him. He was ‘talking’ in more complex sentences and could ask for more stuff as he wanted it, Thomas was overjoyed!

They stepped off the lift onto the Core deck, where the fuel was stored, as well as where the WARP core was kept. The thing always looked like a captured star to Thomas, suspended in the air by antigravity struts, a shining ball of orange and red fire behind the dozen or so walls of safety fields keeping the room from being vaporized. Chief engineer Nivan was already waiting for them, pouring over a data pad with another maintenance officer. The room itself was vast, lit by the core, at least the size of the cargo bay on the other side of the ship. Rows of control consoles lined the walls, as well as data screens and input terminals.

Thomas dropped his bag by the door and put Roomba on his shoulder where the little robot looped himself around the cord the human had sown into his jumpsuit for the little guy. Roomba muted the game pad but continued playing.

“Hey chief,” Thomas called out. “We’re here for that briefing on the new core terminal procedures like you asked.”

“Yes, thank you Human Thomas,” Nivan said, two of his four spindly arms waving in acknowledgment. Chief Nivan was a Zilont, whose species had no actual set amount of limbs. Some had 2 arms and legs like humans, some had up to 8 of each. Nivan himself had 4 arms, 3 legs, and his torso moved and bent around like rubber, since he had no spine. The species moved via a series of gas bladders, reminding Thomas of this uncomfortable movie he’d seen where a clown made a person out of balloon tubes. But Chief Nivan was an upstanding guy in his opinion, never pushed work onto his subordinates and tried to be as helpful around the engineering deck as possible. Thomas thought he was a cool boss to work for.

“Lets get started”, Nivan said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chief Nivan got them working, showing them how the new terminals worked, and how to input commands into the core controls in case of emergencies. The Padrino picked it up while he was explaining it, but Odis and Thomas needed a demonstration. Thomas watched as Nivan’s odd balloon-esque tentacle limbs punched in commands, taking note of each key he hit.

“Got it?” Nivan asked. Thomas sometimes had a hard time gauging his emotions, what with the beak and all, but he thought the Zilont looked a little tired.

“I think so, yeah. You okay Chief?” Thomas asked. “Need me to grab you some salt water or something?”

“No, thank you Human Thomas. We’re getting run ragged down here. Odds and ends keep disappearing, tools and spare parts, and just yesterday somebody claimed they had their locker ransacked.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, and the maintenance crew is already out of sorts. This is just adding fuel to the-”

The entire room shook violently.

Chief Nivan was cut off by a series of small electrical explosions from the wall of terminals behind him, throwing him a ways away. Thomas threw his arms up to shield his face, making sure to cover Roomba as well. The floor beneath their feet rocked, the entire ship seemingly to jerk several meters to the side. The lights blew out, raining sparks down around the crews working in the core room. Over a fourth of the crew in there were thrown to the side or into a wall at the sudden shift. The walls groaned and creaked at the rapid change, and Thomas saw something that stopped his blood cold. The safety fields holding back the core’s fire were flickering off one by one.

“EVERYONE OUT RIGHT NOW!!!” Thomas yelled, rushing to Nivan. He grabbed two of his four arms and started hauling him towards the door.

“Twins! What the hell happened?!” He questioned, looking to the two Padrino.

“Ships systems registered a local star released a wave of energetic ions creating a solar storm. Detecting multiple failed systems, including-”

“THE CORE YEAH I KNOW!” Thomas cut him off. “We have to get the hell outta here now! Is anyone else in here?”

“Multiple life signs detected. In approximately 3 minutes the last containment field will fail and the core will vaporize everything in this room.”

Thomas set Nivan down outside the safety doors.

“Okay, Mace, you call them out! Sixer, Odis, and I will go get them. MOVE!” Thomas ordered while he rushed up and over one of the hanging walkways. Odis didn’t have time to argue with him, Mace was in the doorway and Sixer was already on the move as well.

“SQUAL!” Odis yelled before getting in gear. Thomas didn’t need a translator for that one. Odis was Galley, and they were generally self centered. Not today.

Thomas must’ve moved 6 crew out of the core room in those first 2 minutes. He saw a third Padrino in the door now, a new unit he hadn’t met yet, talking to Mace and trying to contain the core. Thomas didn’t stop. Whether they bought more time or not, he wasn’t about to leave this room while anyone was still in it, not while time was still on the clock.

Finally the three minutes were almost up. The safety field was down to its last wall. Only a thin blue screen of light stood between them and obliteration. Thomas grabbed the last crewman on his side, a Zilgrat about half his size and started running back towards the door. From what Mace had said, it was just the space ferret and that should be it. Thomas looked over at the others.

Odis’s foot was caught in the railing.

The crewman he’d been sent to get had been thrown down to Sixer who was rushing him outside.

“There are only seconds left, Human Thomas! We must seal the door immediately.”

Thomas looked from the door to Odis.

He ran to the door.

Dropped the Zilgrat at the robot’s feet.

And sprinted towards the Galley.

His lungs hurt. His muscles ached. It was getting hot in the room, each layer missing from the security wall allowing more heat to escape containment.

Thomas jumped up the stairs to Odis.

“Sorry man!” He said as he grabbed the little gray alien’s leg and yanked. The foot dislodged with a sick crunch and Odis howled, high pitched and clutched at his leg.

Thomas had been counting. No time left. The Galley man didn’t weigh much.

Damn.

He really wanted to keep playing games with these guys.

Thomas took Roomba from his shoulder and shoved the little droid into the Galley’s chest before hurling them both over the railing towards the safety of the blast doors. He actually threw them so far and so hard they struck Mace and forced the whole bunch out into the hall.

“SHUT THE DOORS NOW!” Thomas ordered. The Padrino unit he hadn’t met yet, and now probably wouldn’t, hit the release, and the doors slammed shut as the last field lost power.

Thomas threw himself behind a console as vaporized plasma filled the room. The temperature must’ve leapt by several hundred degrees…

For about 3 seconds.

Then the safety fields sprung back to life, holding back the fire. Thomas sucked in oxygen as the ship’s automatic air filters kicked in, sucking the heat out of the room. Emergency coolers clicked on, rapidly suppressing the temperature fluctuations. His skin hurt, and he caught a vague whiff of burning hair.

The console he’d hid behind seemed to shield him from the sheer worst of it, but Thomas would be very glad to get to Med Bay in the next few minutes. Everything burned. Finally shock and lack of clean oxygen let him pass out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas awoke to the sound of Odis and the Padrino… were they yelling?

“I’m telling you,” Odis was saying to someone in a nurse uniform, “if you cut that shirt off him, I will personally teach you how the Galley get even…”

Shirt? What shirt?

Ohhhh.

Thomas started laughing softly, on his bed in the med bay, covered in burn gel.

“I told you guys…” he said hoarsely, “it’s a lucky shirt.”

“Kid!” Odis was standing next to him, leg in a cast. “Kid what the hell were you thinking? Why didn’t you just leave??!”

“Human Thomas, we are please you have not expired,” Sixer said.

“Agreed,” Mace said.

“Thanks guys,” Thomas coughed. “Sorry about the leg, dude, there wasn’t time…”

“My leg? Kid you just got cooked and you’re worried about my leg?” Odis looked at him in disbelief. “You humies are so freaking weird, you should’ve just left me there.”

“Nah… I had that. It’s my lucky day, remember?”

Roomba was sitting on the side table next to his bed. He was holding the game pad, but it wasn’t on.

“Beep.”

[Information Request]

“What’s up buddy? You okay? Sorry I threw you,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Is your unit going to be repaired?]

“Yeah buddy, I’ll be okay. Just got a little too hot in there for a second.”

“Beep.”

[Statement: Unit Thomas is required to be repaired, or ability to complete task {hang out together} will be incomplete]

“Yeah, I love you too buddy,” Thomas said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A quick 2 cycle stint in a regen-pod got Thomas back on his feet and the worst of his burns treated, though he was significantly more tan than he was before. He’d had a short meeting with the captain and first officer, both of whom said something to the effect of ‘what is it with you humans, throwing yourselves into danger?’

He was on his way to the Padrino now, they’d taken Roomba and his main translator for repairs, and to see if they could finally retrace that weird signal he’d heard the other cycle. Since he was told by both the doctors and Odis to focus or rest and recovery, he’d agreed to them babysitting. The spare device in his ear was itchy. He’d be happy to have his back.

When the lift opened, there was Odis the Galley. His cast had been replaced with a prosthetic boot. Thomas stepped in. The doors closed and Odis cleared his throat.

“Listen kid,” the little gray alien started, “that was a real decent thing you did back there the other cycle.”

Thomas looked down at him and shrugged.

“I’m not gonna say it wasn’t a big deal,” Thomas said, “I definitely thought I was gonna die in there. It just didn’t need to be all of us, is all.”

Thomas rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out his keys. He slid the rabbits foot off the ring and held it out to the Galley.

“Here. I think we both need some luck on this ship right now. Have it.”

Odis looked from him to the foot.

“…you sure kid? Didn’t that thing save your life?” Odis said, his usual smirk coming back a little.

“Nah, the shirt saved my life. Plus I feel like I owe you a foot, yeah?”

Odis laughed, shoulders shaking. He took the rabbits foot and stuck it in his pocket.

“Lucky severed animal feet huh? You humies are such deathworlders it’s not even funny.”

“Then why are you laughing, close encounters?”

The lift erupted in laughing fits from the both of them as they made their way down to engineering.

On the engineering deck, the Padrino, along with the small unit known as Roomba, watched the pair leave the lift.

“The human should have expired in the core room,” said Sixer.

“Agreed,” said Mace.

“But he did not,” said Sixer.

“A good thing, yes,” said Mace.

“Beep.”

[Statement: agreed, this is a good thing. New observations can be made now. And new games can be played still]

“Agreed,” said the Padrino in unison.