#this post has several problems with formatting and i had to rewrite parts of it

[swallowerofdharma]

Hello🙂 I tried to message you but Tumblr blocked it so I hope u don't mind this ask. I read your reblog, thank u for writing it regarding Yashiro's consent.

Genuinely, I went back and re-read those chapters and can't see anywhere where Yashiro says he doesn't want to have sex with Doumeki. If anything even prior Yashiro asks to blow Doumeki and says, "let's have sex" now that Doumeki can get hard.

Am I missing something here?

Please explain it to me if I am. I am open to being corrected and would like to understand better 🙂

Hello, and thank you for being open to dialogue further. Frankly speaking, I don’t fully trust my own ability to persuade others as sometimes I struggle to explain these concepts in a language that is not my native tongue. But I have tried to.

One post (1) I made analyzed Yashiro’s emotional state, another one (2) further explained how he repeatedly tried to make Doumeki aware of his distress. And he never consented when Doumeki straightforward asked and decided to continue anyway. You can see Doumeki himself doubting his own decision during and after. I don’t know what more could I say, except taking panel after panel and analyzing the whole sequence. Please read the full posts I have linked and then I could try to answer specific doubts you may have. Here are some excerpts.

(1) Yashiro didn’t want to have sex with Doumeki and said so repeatedly. Doumeki has grown on him, behind liking his physical appearance or using him as a substitute for Kageyama: Yashiro truly liked this person and he liked that Doumeki was impotent. Thanks to that, Yashiro grew comfortable around Doumeki and with comfort and safety comes familiarity. When Yashiro discovered that the impotence was gone, he was angry and terrified. They had become too close and now the premise has changed and Yashiro couldn’t trust Doumeki or himself anymore. (…) And Yashiro was trapped in a situation he had tried to escape from his all life: with a person who felt familiar, a person he loved and relied on, in the safety of a home, who wanted sex and was going to do what he wanted regardless of what Yashiro had to say. (…) Doumeki broke him indeed because he broke through the lies/rules upon which Yashiro had intentionally built his entire personality/safety. And he wasn’t ready for it, he specifically said he didn’t want it, he had known all along, he already knew when men before Doumeki tried to make love to him and when he built a strategy to specifically avoid being confronted with those lies/rules. He didn’t love those men. He did love Doumeki though. But once again Yashiro didn’t have a choice. And he was physically hurt and recovering after being shot and knowing his life was in danger outside of that room. He had just discovered that Doumeki lied about being impotent the previous time he touched him in the car and before that. It was probably the worst timing possible for making love. At some point Yashiro grew resigned and even reciprocated a little, reaching for Doumeki, caressing his face, and he even reassured him before he fell asleep. There were words that Doumeki said that Yoneda didn’t disclose fully, choosing instead to immediately took us in the flashback with Yashiro.

(2) The difference between giving consent and reciprocating vs submitting in silence because there wasn’t really a choice is huge for me. And again, I am considering the mental state of both people and I know Doumeki isn’t being cruel on purpose, but you must see how Doumeki himself understands that Yashiro hasn’t really consented, because he turns him around, looking at his expression and he apologizes. (…) Doumeki expresses his wish out loud, and to this Yashiro explicitly answers, asking him in no ambiguous terms to stop. Doumeki keeps pushing, undressing and kissing Yashiro, who asks him to stop again. Doumeki asks for Yashiro’s consent again. It is significant that he pauses here again, this time there will be penetration with male genitalia: an act that is broadly and unequivocally recognized, and can’t be written off as foreplay. To Doumeki’s request for verbal consent, Yashiro responds by pushing down his face and raising his hips: not consent but submission. This is double painful because he gives up protesting or resisting his own desires, but his physical desires have never been something Yashiro knew to trust. This isn’t by any means what Yashiro wanted.

Take into consideration also that some of us have been educated and are living inside an insidious rape culture that aims to grant less power to selected individuals: women, lgtbqa+ people, including asexual people in the umbrella terms, people with supposed diagnoses of various mental illness, history will tell how legitimate that will be, people of color and disabled individuals.

“Rape was redefined as a violent crime rather than a sex crime, and its motive redefined from desire for sexual pleasure to male domination, intimidation and control. Rape also began to be reexamined through the eyes of the victims rather than the perpetrators”. [From the Wikipedia entry on rape culture with further notes and references available for verification].

See also:

“Corrective rape is the use of rape against people who do not conform to perceived social norms regarding human sexuality or gender roles. The goal is to punish perceived abnormal behavior and reinforce societal norms”. [From the Wikipedia entry on corrective rape with further notes and references available for verification].

As for the post I wrote earlier today about modern romanticism and romance as ideology, you can try for example In The Name of Love: Romantic ideology and its victims 

This chapter discusses the basic tenets of romantic ideology — love is all you need; true love is forever and conquers all; true lovers are united; love is irreplaceable and exclusive; and love is pure and can do no evil. Ascribing to this ideology, the chapter suggests that love is comprehensive, uncompromising, and unconditional. Furthermore, eternal love and self-sacrifice are used to legitimize whatever is done ‘in the name of love’.

I formed my own ideas of the subject and I have not read this book myself, I just briefly searched the web for a starting point in English language. I have several years of experience of observing people of various generations, not all women, taken by the romantic interpretation of love, reading what they were reading and reflecting critically on this topic, but really I don’t intend to write my own essay about this subject. For people who followed me recently, please check the pinned post: my analyses are mostly from a cultural studies perspective that aims to understand authors and their works in the context of their time and place and not based on literary genres, tropes or readers’ expectations.

Hope I am being useful and transparent in what I do. I don’t have any investment in bashing characters or people, nor in ruining your enjoyment of the story. My goal has always been broader understanding, respect for the cultural dignity of manga and the promotion of empathy.

[fanby-fckry]

(As many or as few as you like 💜)

🍄, 🧭, ♻️,🤔,🛠️

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on you WIP(s)

2. 🍄 Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

Child + Demon Summoning Ritual = Found Family???

(The question marks are a very important part of the equation, trust me.)

It’s for the same fic mentioned in this ask.

4. 🧭 An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

A Far Cry From Eden had several alternate titles I considered, including The Fall of Eve, and Far From Eden.

8. ♻️ A scrapped idea for your current WIP

I already mentioned how Exorcist!Vaggie knocked a chapter off of my Survey fic, so to avoid repeats I’m gonna pick another fic.

I decided to change the setting in an UH3 smut fic because there were too many different elements going on all at once.

That entire fic is actually going to be based on a scene I had to scrap from Bloodlust and Butterflies. It was in the 2020 precursor fic, Tempting Entertainment, but I chose not to include it in the rewrite because it didn’t seem thematically appropriate.

They were going to be in an elevator, for no real reason besides the fact that that’s where they were in the old fic.

The more I was writing though, the more I realized that I wasn’t doing anything with that setting, and it was just taking away from the things I actually wanted to focus on.

9. 🤔 What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

I typically get at least a few sentences down when I have an idea in my head, so I might have to rack my brain a bit to find something I haven’t started.

Oh, you know what? I’ve got a whole lineup of Women of Eden fics planned that I haven’t started yet. I’ll tell you one of those.

I want to tell the story of Lilith, Eve, and Charlie.

Eve is not just a mother, but the first mother. Eve and Lilith will have known each other for eons by the time Lilith considers becoming a mother, herself, and I imagine that Eve would be Lilith’s go-to confidant on all things motherhood.

I think Eve would become somewhat of an Aunt-figure to Charlie, and I’d love to explore the dynamic between all three of them.

There’s also a somewhat somber note in that, as far as Eve knows, she will never see her children again. She views all of the Sinners as her children in a way, because they’re all her descendants. She loves them, and she has mourned every year since the exterminations began.

But, they aren’t the children she raised, they aren’t the children she remembers.

There’s going to be some sadness there – some jealousy, even – when Eve sees Lilith and Charlie. I want to write it.

11. 🛠 Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

About 3/4 of the way through my answer for this, I realized it had turned into a vent, so I’m gonna put it below the cut in case people don’t wanna read it.

No one, including @10moonymhrivertam is obligated to read this.

Thanks so much for the ask, Moony. Don’t let the vent fool you, I did genuinely enjoy answering these. I had a lot of fun answering the other 4 prompts, and I think I needed an opportunity to vent.

Hahaha, yeahhhh… I’m struggling with writing in general, lol. There’s some specifics about pacing and plots in a few fics and of course, not knowing Australian slang is a hurdle in writing dialogue for Cherri – specifically 1980’s Australian slang; like, how do I even find that?? – but my main problem is just…

I can’t seem to write. I’ve been burnt out and distracted since Husk’s chapter. I’ve had a busy week this week, and haven’t actually written anything at all.

Cherri’s chapter is currently all just dialogue that I wrote a while back, which is something I tend to do when I get an idea for a fic. I write some dialogue or some exposition that was rattling around in my brain and I fill in the rest later.

Well, it’s later. And I’m making fake tumblr dash posts, hyperspecific polls, and playing ask games.

[aiweirdness]

Rhyming is hard

Although many people have generated AI poetry and lyrics, you’ll notice that they generally don’t rhyme. That’s because generating a decent rhyme is super hard.

You can get an inkling of this if you prompt the neural net GPT-2 with rhymes to complete. It will fail almost every time.

In part, this is because English spelling is so nonuniform. How would a model trained on just written English know that it can rhyme throw with dough but not with brow? Not to mention stress patterns and syllable counts.

A few people have attempted to get neural nets to rhyme, and one of them is a new online demo by Prof. Mark Riedl of Georgia Tech. Give it example lyrics to a song - for example, the first two verses to the Gilligan’s Island theme - and it’ll try to fit the number of syllables and rhyming scheme, as well as take inspiration from a short phrase you supply.

Prompt: “If I knew you were coming, I’d have baked a cake” Tune: Gilligan’s Island theme

Ok, but this is terrible. It’s TERRIBLE. One of the problems is a complete disregard for emphasis, making this inhumanly awkward to sing. It also does a rather cheap shortcut of rhyming words with themselves.

Prompt: “The mighty pudding god will devour you.” Tune: Gaston’s Waltz from Beauty and the Beast

Here we are not only off-topic and awkward but absolutely bonkers. It has made the rather daring move of incorporating a reference to Alusuisse, which wikipedia informs me is a defunct Swiss chemical company. In fact, looking back over the program’s output, it made this decision when looking for a rhyme for “this”, and it skipped past “bliss”, “dismiss”, and “Chris” in favor of the former aluminum manufacturer. When choosing rhymes it scores potential words according to their similarity to the prompt, and there must have been something about Alusuisse that screamed “vengeful pudding god”.

Its syllable counting also breaks in weird ways.

Prompt: “Destroy all humans” Tune: “Baa baa black sheep��

Looking back over the logs, it did correctly count 11 syllables for “baa baa black sheep have you any wool.” But this AI is built of lots of carefully-coordinated sub-programs, each of which only does a small piece of the puzzle, and apparently the sub-program that was supposed to suggest 11-syllable lines shrugged and went “on…. august? that’s all i got”.

Prompt: I am a turnip Tune: The wonderful thing about tiggers

This makes the world’s worst karaoke, and yes, Riedl has built a karaoke-making function for this. If you want to weird someone out, just casually sing a song with the AI lyrics instead of the real ones.

Botnik Studios also recently built a karaoke-generating algorithm (“The Weird Algorithm”) that instead of generating lines from scratch, picks them from some other source file, trying to match meter and rhyme. (for example, rewriting The Rainbow Connection with lines from X-files scripts). Here’s Jamie Brew demonstrating the system, including singing the lyrics as they pop up onscreen - if you tried to sing any of the lyrics above, you’ll know how darn impressive his singing is. Each line is independent, though, so if the song makes sense as a whole, it’s by accident.

So today’s AI can only sort of generate rhyming poetry. “Sigh. Natural language is hard,” Riedl tweeted, when he saw the Turnip hoowelp welp results. AI won’t be beating humans at rap battles anytime soon.

You can generate your own inadvisable karaoke using Riedl’s app.

Subscribers get bonus content: I generated more terrible AI lyrics than would fit in this blog post.

My book on AI is out, and, you can now get it any of these several ways! Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore

[henlp]

Most anime is bad.

It's fair to say anime's success in the West, starting in the 80s-90s but gaining mass recognition and appeal in the 2000s, mostly comes from a wide range of premises for stories told, and how emotional payoffs are (for the most part) earned by the writing, be it hype moments, shocking scenes, or the often-expected bittersweet finale.

However, in spite of these positives, it's very frequent that the story for an anime/manga/novel/game/etc. ends up being bad; and for the longest time, I couldn't figure out exactly why. Even a decade ago, when I was far more lenient and forgiving to the content I consumed (because I had yet to achieve the jaded, joyless state I find myself in <current year>), I could tell something was amiss.

Think I first took notice of this when the era of the Big Three was coming to an end, with One Piece carrying on as Fairy Tail instead took the shovel to the head. Alongside Bleach and Naruto, these three manga series all suffered major issues in their final arcs, so blatant that it became too difficult to accept. Something stank in Denmark Japan, and it made no sense why these (supposedly) good series where floundering as they neared the finish line.

A few years later, with more media under my belt, out came Black Clover. Both my weeb cousin and a good friend had spoken highly of the series, alongside many of the places I used to check for animus, so I watched the OVA... and hated it. There wasn't anything inherently wrong with the pilot for the story, mind you, at that point it was only the screeching from the protagonist that bothered me. When the series proper began, I made the conscious effort to try and power through in spite of the awful first impression, to see what the hype had been about... and I still wasn't seeing it. In fact, the story's erratic and hyperactive pacing, alongside its cheap animation, made it almost impossible for me to watch. Only by virtue of the previously aforementioned hype moments on occasion and the catchy OPs did I stick around long enough for the story to get interesting and for me to have any investment in the characters. It didn't get good, but it had at least become tolerable. Lucky for me AND it, I was still at a point where I wouldn't drop shows as easily.

It wasn't looking good for my outlook in regards to japanese entertainment. Even if I would end up consuming more anime than any western shows (at least animes don't fucking despise their audiences), my eye kept getting more critical, and I kept getting less adventurous, due to several shows disappointing. But I still couldn't figure out why this was. If anime and manga were appealing to me still, why was I less inclined to give 'em a pass, why was I more and more dissatisfied. And then I got my answer in 2021, thanks to two shows: Jujutsu Kaisen and the second anime adaptation of Shaman King.

A story's quality can generally be quantified based on three things: characters, world, and plot. Each informs the other two, and a good story never has one of these working against the others. But it can also happen that all three work in their own right, but not in tandem. A fourth, rarely-considered factor for evaluating story is EXECUTION. So when it comes to anime, manga, novels, games, etc, the problem usually is in execution. You could argue that there are different cultural sensibilities for storytelling in Japan, or corporate factors interjecting themselves in the process; but that would be an explanation, not an excuse. And nowadays, enough japanese creators quote some of their influences as not just being other japanese creators, but also creators from around the globe (past and present). There's not this magical bubble keeping the Land of the Rising Sun ignorant of other types of storytelling and development processes.

So how did I arrive at this conclusion thanks to Jujutsu Kaisen and Shaman King 2021? Both shows suffer terribly when it comes to execution of their stories, although in different ways:

-With Jujutsu Kaisen (at least the anime, I've not read the whole manga), there were several instances where I found myself asking "Did I miss an episode or something?", because you frequently had characters reacting and conducting themselves with one another as if there was a deluge of development between them off-screen. No better example than EmoBangs McGee, who becomes BFFs with the protagonist in less than 5min, later having a fight that was probably meant to be very heart-wrenching, except there was no development for their relation (and powers), so it made no sense for them to act in that fashion (if this is different in the manga, by all means let me know);

-With Shaman King 2021, meanwhile, I was well-familiarized with the characters, the world, and the plot. I knew the main elements of the story, I had in fact rewatched the show in the past decade, and in spite of filler content and Black Sabbath cameos, still remembered it strongly. But as I am watching the new show, the word that comes to mind is "cheap": cheap animation and rushed pacing. Maybe this is due to certain events, or the studio trying to rush past the initial stages of the story, but still. All it had to do was clear the filler, give each scene and character the love and care they needed to make their moments the best they could, and let it go from there. It's been twelve years since FMA Brotherhood, if you're going to be a greedy bitch and redo an anime adaptation, there's no excuse for it to be of such low quality.

As you can see, both failed in execution, with the latter in its new adaptation and the former (possibly) in its original format. When I realized this, suddenly the fog dissipated, and I could see why all those stories had failed: Bleach failed because its power creep and character conflicts were executed horribly; Naruto's atrocious pacing (in both manga and anime) was done solely to extend the story needlessly; Fairy Tail's final arcs (although not only that) dropped the ball because Hiro Mashima was actively trying to ensure there were no sad elements to the story or the end of his characters' arcs; Black Clover‘s poor execution came in how its first few arcs play out, trying to speed up through the world-building, which left most characters too anemic and underdeveloped until far later into the story.

But of course, this is an issue that exists in far more IPs than just the ones I’ve mentioned so far and others of the same caliber. It happens with the cream of the crop as well: Boku no Hero Academia's more recent decisions have been executed very poorly, when they were just a single step away from being done very well; post-timeskip One Piece has relied too heavily on characters having skills and forms that we aren't familiarized with, and fights that don't resolve in a smart fashion, but due to nakama power fueling Luffy; season fucking 2 of One-Punch Man is the poster child for terrible execution of anime adaptations, considering the original webcomic, the manga, and season 1. This issue is (almost) everywhere, and yeah, I get it: anime and manga are produced through such a hellish process, that a lot of times the authors or production staff don't have the time to go through their stories to make sure everything's on the up-and-up. Yusuke Murata is not exactly a common example, of someone that's allowed to go back to both redraw and rewrite entire chapters; and I am somewhat glad that, at least when it comes to JUMP, they seem to be getting slightly more lenient with the talent and their teams if it means better results in the long run.

However, the issue persists. I neither know nor think that anything can be resolved even if the extremely demanding workload of manga/anime production were to be alleviated (we've had plenty of examples in the West, of media that has all the time and money in the world, still imploding and salting the earth around it), but at the very least, it can be something that creators who are not under those retraints to take into account, so as not to make those same mistakes.

Do not try to subvert conversations that SHOULD be happening, just because in anime there's a stereotype of scenes where everything stops in its tracks just so characters can have a conversation, be it executed well or poorly (an aspect I'd wager stems from when the source material is manga or a novel). Don't think that because a character's power level let's them blow up the moon from orbit, that immersion can't be broken if you don't justify how they might struggle against another on the same tier. Be wary of the very common issue with 'Wanime' (Western animation using the anime style), where creators completely put aside depth for spectacle, to the point that it becomes indistinguishable from a parody show such as Megas XLR.

Always remember, execution is the be-all and end-all to every character development, emotional payoff, hype moment, world building, and plot progression. Think about every scene, and if it actually informs the audience of what should be happening. If it doesn't, then you'll have to try and fix it before, not after. And if you can't do it (which is fine, most of us are fucking dumbasses), now you understand why even a lot of shonen action series have a bunch of slice-of-life, semi-filler scenes interjected in-between big events, so that you can have context and weight to what will transpire.

[skybird13]

A Selective Rewrite of Episode 12

Hey all! I know I’ve been pretty quiet the last couple of weeks, at least as far as my own posts have been concerned. I sort of allowed my school work to get away from me and had some catching up to do (*cough* still not caught up *cough*). But considering we still have yet to get a satisfying explanation for the creative decisions made throughout volume 7 for Qrow and Clover (especially in episode 12) I thought I’d put this one out here today.

Full disclosure, this post was supposed to come at the end of my “What Went Wrong” series, but the ideas for it keep rattling around in my brain and I need to get this out. (Also, sincere apologies for being so late on Part II of that series. It is coming, I promise. Writing up something like that takes a lot of time and effort.)

The whole point of the “What Went Wrong” series was to tweak the writing in episodes 1-11 so that episode 12 felt less detached from the rest of the volume.

The point of this rewrite is the opposite, in that I want to showcase one way in which episode 12 could have been written while maintaining the integrity of the writing in the rest of volume 7. With that in mind, here are my goals for it:

Avoid character assassination (i.e. keep everyone in character throughout the situation)

Maintain the relationship between Qrow and Clover

Acknowledge the “Lawful or Good” arc Clover was set up for throughout the volume

Still have it end with Clover’s death. I do this under the desperate assumption that Clover’s death is absolutely necessary plot reasons in volume 8.

A few things to note before I get started.

Firstly, I will be focusing exclusively on the events between Clover, Qrow, Robyn, and Tyrian. I had very few qualms with the rest of the episode.

Secondly, I have some very little experience writing screenplays, but keeping to the strict format of one would be absolute hell on this site. I’m going to do my best to encase character action, scene notes, etc. in [brackets] and character dialogue will be indented in quotations, but that’s about as formal as it’s going to get. So don’t look at this as a model for a professional screenplay. It won’t be and my own voice will probably creep in now and again for commentary or what have you.  

Thirdly, not a lot of changes in the first part of the scene. Apart from a few tweaks, I thought it was fine. But the alterations will become far more noticeable as things progress and the ending, even with Clover’s death, will be drastically different.

[The scene opens the same way it does in canon with the black screen and Ruby’s VO repeating the lines about Ironwood abandoning Mantle. Then we’re in the transport ship with Clover, Qrow, Robyn, and Tyrian. For continuity’s sake, though, the camera work from the end of episode 11 is somewhat mirrored. Ruby gets cut off, within that wide-angle shot in episode 12 Robyn and Qrow look up at Clover, and then the camera cuts to Clover alone. We get to revisit his shell-shocked expression and the camera lingers on him while Robyn delivers her line.]

Robyn: Declaring martial law? We cannot let him do this. (oisl = original in-show line)

[With the camera still on Clover, we get to see him make the conscious effort to close himself off. The conflict in him gets pushed aside and his expression hardens. It’s clear here that he’s going to fall back on his loyalty to James, at least at first. This bit in the show was fine. I had no problem thinking that would be his initial response.]

Clover: Ms. Hill, I’m sure the General understands the enormity of his-- (oisl)

[Clover’s scroll beeps and cuts him off. He pulls it out, looks at it, and sees the orders to arrest Qrow. A shot of his face shows a flicker of emotion, something hesitant and sad. When he stands, his movements are heavy. Qrow sees him, and his own expression shifts into one of concern and confusion.]

Qrow: Clover? (oisl)

[Clover sighs and hesitates only slightly before approaching him. He doesn’t look happy but he does keep eye contact with Qrow and his posture is stiff.]

Clover (resigned, shut down): Qrow, I have orders to bring you in.

Tyrian (laughing): A free ride and a show. (oisl)

Clover: There’s also an alert out for Team RWBY’s arrest. (oisl)

Qrow (worried, scared): What? Has James lost his mind? (oisl)

Robyn: He’s trying to stop anybody who might get in the way of his inhumane plan. (oisl)

[Robyn stands and approaches Clover, engaging her weapon and pointing it at him. I also didn’t have much of a problem with this. At least Robyn had the precedent of being a bit impulsive.]

Robyn: Looks like he underestimated me. Again. (oisl)

Clover: Only Qrow is under arrest. After everything we’ve been through tonight, please don’t make me arrest you, too. (oisl)

[Robyn’s face hardens and she readies an arrow. Clover looks sad and disappointed, but he does still pull out Kingfisher. Qrow stands and gets in between them.]

Qrow: Knock it off, both of you! We’re not doing this. Not with him here.

[Qrow points at Tyrian who is sitting on the bench grinning at them. Robyn and Clover seem to remember exactly where they are and they lower their weapons.]

Qrow (to Robyn):  Let’s get up to Atlas and we can talk to James personally. Maybe there’s something we’re missing.

[Robyn does not look happy about that. Qrow turns to Clover, expression hurt. He holds out his hands and takes a step towards him.]

Qrow: I’m not resisting.

[Clover doesn’t move right away. His resolve visibly cracks, giving us another glimpse at his internal conflict. He puts Kingfisher away, his hand shifting to the bolas on his hip, though he doesn’t actually make any move to put them on Qrow. Instead, he looks painfully torn.]

Clover: I don’t want to do this.

Qrow: Then don’t.

[A tense moment passes between them where neither of them moves and we’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen. Then, with the camera focused on Qrow, Robyn shifts back into the scene over his shoulder. She moves towards the door on the side of the ship.]

Robyn: If you want to hand yourself over, that’s fine. I’m going back to Mantle.

Clover: Ms. Hill, if you leave this transport, I can’t guarantee that someone will--

Robyn (vicious): I’m not asking for your guarantees. I should have known better than to trust you. You never cared about Mantle.

Clover (moving towards her): Robyn--

[Robyn lifts her weapon again and points it at him. Clover stops.]

Robyn: Back off, Clover. I won’t ask again.

[She reaches back for the door latch and pulls it to open it, but at that moment, the ship lurches. They all look up to the front of the ship to see Tyrian with the pilot’s hat on, laughing maniacally and clearly trying to crash the plane. Clover pulls Kingfisher out and launches the hook at him, but a bit of bad luck comes into play and it misses him, piercing the ship’s console or the windshield instead. Tyrian laughs, throws the plane into a nosedive, and all four of them are inside when it hits the ground.

Clover comes to first. He is lying in the pile of snow that got pushed in through the open side of the plane. Kingfisher is next to him but it’s broken, the line and hook having been ripped out of it by the force of the crash.  He looks around and spots Qrow at the back of the ship, unconscious.

Placing a broken Kingfisher back on his hip, he crawls over to Qrow and checks his pulse. He lets out a small sigh of relief when he finds it.]

Clover (gently): Qrow. Can you hear me? I need you to wake up. Come on, wake up.

[After a beat, Qrow moans. His eyes flutter open and his face contorts in pain. Clover is visibly relieved.]

Clover: Are you hurt anywhere?

Qrow (voice tight with pain): My side.

[Clover quickly lifts his shirt and checks him, and basically has an “oh shit” reaction. There is deep bruising on Qrow’s side, suggesting some internal injury.]

Clover: Your aura’s broken.

Qrow (has his own oh shit reaction and then looks at Clover): Are you--

Clover: I’m fine.

Qrow (looking around the wreckage): Where’s Robyn?

Clover (darkly): Where’s Callows?

[They share a look that says they both know this is very bad. Clover sits back on his knees and Qrow tries to push himself up to recline against the wall of the ship, one arm wrapped around his middle. Clover reaches up to activate his earpiece.]

Clover: This is Clover requesting immediate emergency aid. Our ship went down and at least one of our party requires medical attention. (pause for a beat). Callows is unaccounted for.

[Several beats pass and Clover’s hand falls heavily back into his lap, implying a lack of verbal response.]

Qrow: Do you think they got it?

Clover: I don’t know.

[Clover stands and rifles through an overhead compartment in the ship. He shakes out a blanket and wraps Qrow in it. With a broken aura, Qrow has no defense against the cold. Then Clover looks around until he finds Harbinger near the front of the plane. He gets it and brings it back to Qrow, setting it beside him.]

Clover: I’m going to go look for Robyn. If Callows comes, shoot him.

[Qrow laughs a little and lays Harbinger across his lap. Clover takes the bolas off his belt and Qrow gives him a disbelieving look, thinking they’re for him.]

Qrow (flatly): Are you serious right now?

Clover (sets the bolas down in Qrow’s lap with a small smirk): In case shooting him doesn’t work.

[Clover stands and turns to go. Qrow catches his hand, prompting Clover to look back at him. This moment is weighted and intimate, expressions conveying concern for one another.]

Qrow (serious): Be careful.

Clover (reassuring): I’ll be right back.

[They let go of one another and Clover leaves. Qrow changes Harbinger into its shotgun form in preparation.

Scene change to outside. Clover climbs out of the ship and looks around the tundra. The shot establishes how far away they are from Mantle, how isolated they are, and finally pans over to some wreckage a little ways from the main part of the ship. Clover runs over and finds Robyn in the debris. He checks her pulse and is again relieved to find one.]

Tyrian (from behind): Well, well. That worked out better than I thought.

[Clover stands and pulls Kingfisher out, extending it to its full length. The camera makes sure to focus somehow on the warped end and frayed line. Tyrian notices the damage to the weapon and grins.]

Tyrian (sing-songy voice): Divide and conquer, as my Goddess says. There were three. And now there’s just you.

Clover: Tyrian Callows, surrender now and things will go much easier for you.

Tyrian (with a sinsiter laugh): Oh, I have something much more fun in mind.

[He engages his weapons, but instead of going for Clover, he runs for the rest of the ship. Clover’s expression shifts into one of pure panic.]

Clover: Qrow!

[Scene change to Qrow in the ship just as Tyrian runs through the door. Qrow is somewhat ready for him. He throws the bolas at Tyrian’s legs. Tyrian dodges but the bolas do force him to change his trajectory so he can’t land a direct hit on Qrow. Qrow shoots at him and manages to fend him off long enough for Clover to get there.

I’m not overly good with detailing fight scenes, so I’ll just try to give the broad strokes here.

Clover gets Tyrian out of the ship and engages him out in the open. Qrow drags himself to his feet and goes to the opening of the ship where he focuses on taking shots at Tyrian whenever Clover is far enough away from him to do so. Clover holds his own against Tyrian, but with Kingfisher broken, he’s at a severe disadvantage. He eventually takes a hard hit that shatters his aura. Tyrian is about to close in on him when Qrow takes another shot, having moved much closer. Tyrian turns and goes after Qrow instead. The altercation is extremely brief. With Qrow’s aura broken and his injury, Tyrian only has to land a single hit to get him to go down. Harbinger gets knocked from his hand in the process. Off to the side, Clover gets back to his feet. Qrow tries to reach for Harbinger but Tyrian gets to him and steps on his wrist, putting a blade to his throat. Qrow glares up at him, defiant. A moment passes in which Tyrian grins at him and Qrow’s expression shifts from defiant to confused to horrified. Just as Qrow begins to comprehend Tyrian’s plan, Clover comes up behind Tyrian to attack him. Tyrian turns, blocks with his wrist weapon things, while simultaneously grabbing Harbinger with his tail (it’s been established that his tail is that dextrous) and using it to kill Clover.]

Qrow: No!

[Clover falls to the ground. Qrow’s expression is one of horror. He tries to stand but can’t quite get to his feet.]

Qrow (to Tyrian): I’ll kill you! (oisl)

Tyrian: You mean like you just killed Clover? (oisl)

[Overhead, the ships that Clover called for are arriving. Tyrian grins and throws Harbinger a few feet away.]

Tyrian: I’d love to stay and watch, but you know my history with the authorities. Until next time, Qrow.

[Tyrian turns and sprints back towards Mantle. Qrow watches him go for a moment, furious, and then he crawls over to Clover. Maybe he even takes off his cape and tries to staunch the bleeding.]

Clover: Qrow...

Qrow: I’m here. The ships are coming. All you have to do is hold on.

Clover: I’m so sorry.

Qrow: Don’t. Don’t do that. Just... Stop talking. You’re not dying out here.

Clover (gently): Qrow.

Qrow (fierce): No!

[Qrow visibly struggles to hold himself together.]

Qrow (pleading): Please stay.

Clover (softly): I wish I could.

[Qrow breaks and starts to cry. Clover looks over and sees the sun rising. Then he looks back to Qrow and smiles.]

Clover: I’m glad I met you.  (If you want to be cheesy, you could even go with “I’m lucky I met you.”)

[The light fades out of his eyes and he’s gone. Qrow screams in agony.

End scene.]

There you have it. The only thing missing is Qrow’s promise to get vengeance on James, but that motivation could easily have been communicated in episode 13 with little more than some strategic camera shots, the fact that Qrow has Clover’s pin, and Qrow’s expression turning from one of sorrow to one of rage as they approach Atlas. Seriously. He could have looked out the front window, seen Atlas Academy, closed his hand around the pin, and gone from looking numb to looking pissed. That’s all that would have been needed.

No one had to step out of character for this to happen. The relationship that CRWBY worked so hard to build between Clover and Qrow throughout the volume, whether you saw it as romantic or not, would have been maintained. And the end result is still the same: Clover is dead and Qrow is framed for it.

Really not that hard.

[fearsmagazine]

PAINFUL TRANSFORMATIONS – Thoughts on a needed change in the Horror Writers Association Bram Stoker Awards® Final Ballot for Screenplay.

I remember attending the very first Bram Stoker Awards Ceremony. The annual conference was held at the Warwick Hotel in New York City. The Horror Writers Association (HWA), like any organization, took several years to find its center and start to emerge as a respected voice in the publishing industry that present an industry recognized award like their cousins The Edgar Award, The Nebular Award, and the World Fantasy Awards.

The HWA votes on categories in Novel, First Novel, Graphic Novel, Young Adult Novel, Long Fiction, Short Fiction, Fiction Collection, Poetry Collection, Anthology, Non-Fiction, and Short Non-Fiction. It is a well thought out and impressive array of awards that recognizes the diversity of the work being generate in the genre. They also give an award for Screenplay.

I received the preliminary ballot and then the final ballot. Looking at the two I begin to perceive an issue. While the organization acknowledges the different formats within the publishing world, they’ve lumped into the screenplay category teleplays. I’ve toiled within the medium and I can tell you that those formats are as different from each other as Novel, Young Adult Novel, & Graphic Novel. The formats differ and the process differs. To lump them together does a disservice to the craft, the award, and the writers. In addition it excludes other emerging scripted formats, such as podcasts dramas (the great grandchild of radio dramas), web series, and video game scripts.

Podcasts like “Welcome to Night Vale,” “Nightlight,” “Blackwood,” and “No Sleep” are excellent examples that vary in format. There are podcast that are an ongoing drama series and ones that are an anthology series. There are some that embrace the format to creatively spin dark tales to terrorize the imagination. All these require scripts in a variety of formats. Some are unique scripted stories, others are adaptations, but they require a script.

In the world of computer video games, the game play has evolved far beyond simple puzzles and first person shooters to immersive experiences that feature plot and character development. Also, due to develops in technology there are AI logarithms that have created a new type of game that allows the player to make choices when interacting with other characters that influences the narrative.  For me, the most impressive entry is “The Dark Pictures Anthology: Man of Medan.” Other games, such as “The Last of Us,” “Vampyr,” “Resident Evil: Biohazard” and the upcoming “Resident Evil: The Village,” or “Death Stranding” are hybrids of role playing, shooter, problem solving games. The overall emphasis is the story arch that requires scripting. As part of their production team there are script writers who are crafting the plot, characters, etc., that require just as much, if not more work, then a novel or screenplay. I’ve had the pleasure to read some a couple of them.

There are many fiction writers who would agree that it is harder to write a short story as opposed to a novel. It is harder to distill the emotional intensity and complex elements of a story into fewer pages, fewer words, than what the luxury of a novel provides. The same came be said when considering episodic, feature, and short films. As a critic and festival judge for over thirty years, I’ve viewed some short films that transcend what so many feature films attempt to deliver in the same year. Many of those films have gone on to launch the careers of some amazing filmmakers. An excellent case in point is the 2008 short film “Mama,” by Andrés Muschietti and Barbara Muschietti. The film came to the attention of Guillermo del Toro who helped them turn their short into a feature at Universal, and they went on to be the creative force behind the cinematic adaptation of Stephen King’s “It.”

The other thing I feel needs to be called into question is how the membership is voting on these entries for screenplay. Without a doubt, every other entry in the other categories has to be read.  In terms of the screenplay entries, are those voting basing their decisions on the written work or the finished product. As a writer and someone who has interviewed screenwriters, the filmmaking process is a collaborative process. The story is written three times: Once in the screenplay; Second in the direction; Third in the editing. I’ve read numerous screenplays where what ended up on the screen was far from what was on the written page, and often times inferior. An excellent example is “Exorcist: The Beginning.” It is of course based on William Peter Blatty’s “The Exorcist.” The producers brought on writer Caleb Carr, the author of the critically acclaimed novel “The Alienist,” to write the first draft. I read his original screenplay. It was brilliant story and he managed to instill the dark tone found in his novels, as well as some essence of Blatty’s novel. The film, however, was a train wreck. The producers brought in screenwriter William Wisher to rewrite the script, and both Carr and Wisher received screenplay credit. Paul Schrader was the director and retitled “Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist.” The film was already completed when the studio brought in action director Renny Harlin to retool the film. So there are two different screenplays and two very different versions of the film. Theoretically, if this ended up on the final ballot what would the membership actually be voting for?

Something else to consider is the whole issues of a screenplay that is an adaptation and the thought of when a novelist has the opportunity to adapt their own work.

Ultimately, is what is being voted a validation of the written work, a popularity contest, and an attempt to be socially relevant at all cost, or simply an thinly veiled attempt to garner the attention of the studio driven film industry? I couldn’t say.

I’ve taken the liberty of posting the preliminary and final ballot below. In contrasting the two here are some of my thoughts:

-          Not sure why Underwater made the first cut. I read the screenplay and it is even more evident that it is a “Alien” meets “Cloverfield” underwater rip-off.

-          I love Richard Stanley, especially his debut film “Hardware.” He’s had a bumpy ride back into the film business and “Color Out of Space” is a good step back in, but nowhere near his films “Hardware” or “Dust Devil.” What sets this film apart is Nicolas Cage’s yet another over the top performance.

-          I saw both “The Platform” and “His House.” I read and saw both “Vivarium” and “Relic.” These are superior genre films that I wrote and discussed on the radio show as my picks for the best of 2020.

-          I really have to question “The Invisible Man.” I thought it was a good film, but it did not stand out as, given the other films to be release in 2020, as one of the best films of that year. Especially when held up against the four films mentioned above. It also screams of nepotism as the HWA is in bed with Blumhouse Books, the company that published “Final Cuts: New Tales of Hollywood Horror and Other Spectacles,” and HWA anthology.

A few final thoughts - If you are going to give an award for screenplay, then it should simply be an award for a produced screenplay for a film that has gotten distribution, based on the current criteria that the Academy of Motion Pictures uses. They should also ensure that those voting have read the screenplay and that they are not voting for the film.

Author: Joseph Mauceri

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! I'm looking for some friends-to-lovers Season 3/4 fix-its. Any recs?

Hi Lovely! I’ve made several posts similar to this in the past, so I’ll link you to those, and on this one are updates to the posts!

S3/TAB/S4 [FIX IT] FICS (MARCH 2019) 

See also:

Friends to Lovers [FULL POST] || [MOBILE POST]

Reunion Fics and Other Post TRF Fics

The Empty Hearse-Related Fics

TSo3-Related Fics

Post John’s Wedding Fics 

Gay Bar Scene 

Post S4 / S4 Fix Its 

Post S4 / S4 Fix Its Pt. 2 

S4 Rewrites

TLD Fix Its (Community Recs)

John Apologizes for Hurting Sherlock 

John Apologizes for Punching Sherlock 

(Mini Masterpost and Fic Rec)

PRE-S3/TEH

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John’s danger days.

Holmes is where the heart is by Rose de Sharon (T, 49K+w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Post-TRF, Reunion Fic, Bromance, Empty House Inspired, Adventure) – Three years after the Reichenbach Fall. On the anniversary of Sherlock’s death, John pays a visit at 221 B Baker Street… and he gets the shock of his life.

Scars by SilentAuror (E, 60,493 w. || Rape / Non-Con / Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dub Con Elements, Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending, Mary is Not Nice) – S3 rewrite, showing Mary’s manipulation of John as he realizes his love for Sherlock. Mary is not having it.

TSO3 FICS

Fitting by thegingerbatch (G, 380w. || Angst, Hard Pining) – John and his best man get fitted for their tuxedos.

This Kiss by suitesamba (T, 731 w. || Humour, Drunkenness, Angst, Stag Night) – Stag Night - back at 221B - in a world where Mrs. Hudson doesn’t interrupt the guessing game with the client. Part 1 of The “This” Series

Like Euphoria and Scotch by FinAmour (M, 1,856 w. || TSo3 Fix It, Five and Ones, Drinking, Pining, Second Person POV Sherlock, Armchair Sex, Cracky and Fluff, Sherlock’s Imagination, Happy Ending) – 5 different ways it all could have gone + the one way it actually works itself out.

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

HLV FICS

Quite Contrary by Hollyesque (T, 1,805 w. || HLV Fic, Sherlock Whump / After Mary Shot Sherlock, Hallucinations / Flashbacks / PTSD, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Lestrade POV, ) – A short one-shot, alternate scene to Greg’s hospital visit in HLV. Instead of Sherlock disappearing, Greg is faced with an unexpected reaction to a hospitalized Sherlock and winds up figuring out something that he really would have rather not known.

BBCSH ‘Poor Mary’ by tigersilver (M, 1,839 w.|| HLV Fic, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Missing Scene, Sherlock POV) – As the tin says above, this is a missing scene, set directly after Sherlock awakens in hospital after having been shot by his best mate’s wife. Minor angst, some pining, nothing nasty; please don’t be alarmed unduly.

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he’s been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

POST-S3 

Pillow Talk by 221b_hound (E, 2,925 w. || Post-HLV, Est. Rel., Preening Sherlock, Limpet Sherlock, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Sex on Furniture, Scent Kink, Masturbation, Fluff, Soft Sherlock) – John gets home late from work and Sherlock is nowhere to be seen. John walks through the flat, distracted by memories of all the excellent sex they’ve been having, and finally finds Sherlock asleep in the upstairs room - apparently having fallen asleep mid-wank while inhaling the scent of John’s pillow. Well, you should always finish what you start, John thinks… Part 3 of Lock and Key

Pillow Talk by scullyseviltwin (M, 5,183 w. || Post-S3, Angsty Fluff, PIllow Talk, Bed Sharing, Worried John, First Time Morning After, Soft Sherlock, Sexuality Discussion, Love Confessions, Kisses and Cuddles) – John has been looking at Sherlock for ages, it feels like.

Welcome Home, John by slashscribe (G, 5,504 w. || Post-S3, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Stabbed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Panic Attack (Sherlock), Self Esteem Issues, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When John moves back to 221B, he thinks he’s the broken one, but after a while, it becomes clear that he might not be correct.

Unwasted by patternofdefiance (E, 8,966 w. || Post-S3 / S3 Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Angelo’s, Fluff, First Time, Anal, Cum Play, Flashbacks to ASiB, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Bottomlock, Cuddles, Multiple Orgasms, BJ’s, Bed Sharing) – John finds it three months after he’s moved back. He’s on the hunt for something to make for dinner, is scrounging through the cupboards, when he happens upon the graveyard of pasta boxes Sherlock still seems to create when left to his own devices. Behind seven boxes of pasta, all almost completely empty, is a dark-glassed bottle, with a paler coat of dust.It’s unopened. John’s face falls slack when he sees it, instantly recognises it, and for a long moment he just stands and looks at it.

Inked in Memory by 221b_hound (E, 9,716 w. || Post-HLV, Tattoos, First Kiss / Time, Anal, Cuddling, Scars, Captain John, Kissing, Switchlock) – John has been back at Baker Street for a year, following the debacle that ended in Mary’s death. Things are good. Back almost to what they used to be. Sherlock might wish they were something else, now, but he only has himself to blame, he thinks. It’s too late, now, for the things he first denied before he’d ruined any chances he might have had. Sherlock also thinks that people who get tattoos are idiots. But perhaps he’s about to learn a thing or two, not least of which might be it’s not as late as he thinks it is. Part 1 of Lock and Key

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock’s body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn’t as sure…

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away…

TAB/POST-TAB

The Two of Us Against the World by slashscribe (T, 1,617 w. || Post-TAB, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Anxious Sherlock, Angsty Fluff) – John is there to take care of Sherlock as he comes down from his overdose in The Abominable Bride. Set immediately after the tarmac, back in 221B.

Loudly Unspoken by Mount_Seleya (M, 1,871 w. || Post-TAB, Love Confessions, Vulnerable Sherlock, Frottage) – John confronts Sherlock about the words he left unsaid on the tarmac. Set immediately after TAB.

Stay by sussexbound (M, 2,067 w. || Post TAB, Suicidal Ideation Mention, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Love Confessions, Frottage, Coming in Pants) –  “Why? Why did you do it? Hmm…?” He takes a deep breath, waits, lets it out again. “Look at me.” There’s no denying him when he takes this tone. “Why did you kill him? Hmm…? For her? After…” A muscle twitches in the corner of John’s eye, and he clamps his jaw down tightly, swallows and sniffs a little before continuing. “For her? After everything she’s done?” “For you.” Before he can even stop himself. Just like that.

Journal of Truths by Goddess_of_the_Night (T, 2,317 w. || Post-HLV / TAB, Pining, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Declarations of Love) – When John escorts Sherlock back to Baker Street from the tarmac, he discovers a journal that Sherlock has kept secret…that he has kept secrets in.

Green Carnation by glenien (T, 2,616 w. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Meta-Fic, Angst and Fluff, Communication, Post-TAB) – John takes Sherlock home. Part 1 of It’s No Longer Eighteen Ninety-Five

The Trial of Sherlock Holmes by jenna221b (G, 3,015 across 3 works || TAB!lock, Metafic / TJLC, Victorian AU / 1895, Christmas, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Oscar Wilde) – Scripts based on speculation that Sherlock will be put on trial in The Abominable Bride to parallel the Oscar Wilde Trials of 1895.

I Love You (Is All That You Can’t Say) by theSeventhStranger (T, 3,147 w. || Post-TAB, Post-Tarmac Scene, Fix-It, Dev. Rel., Retrospective, Angst and Fluff) – “Sherlock. On the tarmac. I got the feeling that you were going to, um. To say something else.”

five times sherlock holmes lied to john watson (and one time he finally told the truth) by miss_frankenstein (G, 5,948 w. || TAB Compliant || Homophobia, Pining Sherlock, Oscar Wilde Trials, Happy Ending) – Set in “The Abominable Bride” universe, this piece adopts a familiar format to chronicle Sherlock’s quiet suffering in the wake of the 1895 Oscar Wilde trials and the particular way they affect his relationship with (and feelings for) John.

Drawstring by May_Shepard (E, 7,412 w. || Friends to Lovers, UST/RST, Fluff and Smut, Post-TAB, John POV) – John is bothered by Sherlock’s slowly-falling jim-jams… as in hot and bothered and he is trying to deal with a sexy dishevelled Sherlock while also keeping his pining in check.

Never Been This Swept Away by estalita11 (T, 8,531 w. || Post-TAB, Mary is Not Nice, Drug Use, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – Set immediately after TAB, Sherlock visits his brother to definitely not apologize about earlier and ends up finally learning a few things that would have been nice knowing about months ago. Mycroft never wants to deal with lovestruck idiots ever again.

Out of the Darkness by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (M, 12,165 w+ (WIP) || Death, Overdose, Heavy Angst, Whump, Mary is Not Nice, Post S3/TAB Compliant) – John Watson has long assumed Sherlock Holmes is immune to sentiment, “doesn’t feel things that way.” Sherlock, however, would do anything for the person he loves most in the world, including putting himself in danger while keeping John in the dark in hopes of keeping him safe. Tired of being left behind, John is running a strategy of his own. Unfortunately things do not go as planned for either of them. And as John lays bleeding, Sherlock finally allows himself to say the things he’s always meant to… This is the story of love, forgiveness and finally making right all the wrongs in these two men’s lives.

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) –  Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

POST-S4

Wish I Was In Heaven Sitting Down by standbygo (M, 3,282 w. || Post-S4, Five Plus One, Missing Scenes, Parenthood, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Declarations of Love, Fluff, Food, John Whump) – Five times when Sherlock and John ate together, and one time they didn’t. A history of the boys, in food.

Tree Topper by May_Shepard (E, 4,017 w. || Christmas Tree, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Smut, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock and John are celebrating Christmas the best way they know how–alone together, with booze. They’ve almost finished decorating their tree, but John is determined to find the best way to top it.

21 - Draft Folder by distantstarlight (E, 5,604 w. || Post S4, Epistolary, References to PTSD, Depression, Healing, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is doing his best friend a favour by doing some routine maintenance on John’s laptop. While doing so he stumbles across a well-filled file folder. Part 21 of 31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017

Six Dates by avawtsn (E, 7,421 w. || 5+1, First Time / Kiss, Post S4-Compliant, POV John) – A rather accidental 5+1 written for the prompt “is this a date?” Hint: it is.

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. “You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie’s class and you won’t have to share a room with a stranger?” “Exactly.” Sherlock beamed at him. “Don’t worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us.”

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate…

The Bells of King’s College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It’s only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths…

[migleefulmoments]

Ryan's always been a mercurial diva though he said in several mea culpa interviews post-Glee where he admitted to be a huge part of the problems, that he mellowed out after his kids were born. Iirc one of the main NipTuck actors was furious with him and vowed to never ever work with him again. I think only two of the previous shows more main actors ever worked with him again (Bryce Johnson, Leslie Grossman). Part of the issues were not even creative but organizational. 1)

2) Actors would get rewrites at the last minute, things weren't scheduled well, the last years of NipTuck were chaos because he had totally checked out and working on other stuff. Kevin has shaded Glee a lot about stuff like 18-hr work days, and he wasn't the only one. Ryan may have become more efficient on the post-Glee shows bc A) they were more self-contained single-season formats which helps focus him, and B) he doesn't do writing and even directing on some of them. He didn't write ACS 1+2

Ok..interesting -you have a much better handle on Ryan from way longer than I do.  Your comment about him checking out and not writing anymore he definitely did on Glee as well. I am sure that his son’s illness changed him..I don’t know how it can’t. That is a life threatening cancer and the chemo is not fun. 

[luxexhomines]

S

Ahhh, thank you guys so much for asking!! I just compiled them all into one post so I don’t clog up your dash with several posts. Here we go! I’m going to tag this as discourse and put a cut because my answers to the letters might not please everyone, aha. It’s long, too. Major spoilers for NDRV3.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Honestly, I’m not super sure at this point. Surprise, surprise, I only just recently finished watching the rest of NDRV3 and started writing for it. And I haven’t thought about tropes that much, though I’m sure I’ve written plenty of them into my writing at some point, even if not posted on here. 

If we’re going to go Danganronpa-centric, as this is my side blog for Danganronpa writing, I’d say that I fall in love with characters that are contradictory and with seemingly bipolar or gray morals despite probably having morals as straight as an arrow myself, i.e. Nagito or Kokichi. The characters playing “straight man” and relating to the reader’s perspective are also my favorite; in a wacky situation, they offer reason and normal reactions, which I would peg Hajime as (maybe Kazuichi, too, although he’s more of a crybaby). In fanfiction, I just love hurt & comfort fics, especially involving–you guessed it–Kokichi. I am particularly partial to the Oumota chapter 5 and chapter 5 trial rewrites, which, lucky for me, both of which are quite often rewritten by spectacular writers.

If we’re going in general, I always end up reading manga with an independent, strong and decisive character that crosses worlds and/or bodies by accident or death and becomes incredibly powerful/influential in the world and dominates over other characters with skills ranging from cooking to fighting. I guess I read a lot of manhua with martial arts or other manga with game aspects to it.Writing-wise, I love reading slow burn fics, even if I haven’t read one in quite some time. 

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

I have a feeling this is going to go into highly controversial areas, so if you ultra ship Kaito x Maki, please turn away now...

I just hate that “man saves woman” from herself or traumatic past trope. Don’t get me wrong, I love hurt/comfort like I mentioned, but to specify, what I mean is when a strong and independent woman needs saving by a man. I realize Maki has a lot of issues from her past as an assassin and that Kaito is a viable, good option for helping her out and facing those issues, but the fact of him being a man and the way he just swoops in and fixes things forcefully by pulling her along for training just irks me. And before you ask, yes, if Kaede did it instead as a woman I would have less of a problem with it, even if I don’t like that somehow after a couple days of training together Maki somehow is better able to get along with others and most notably Shuichi despite having spent the previous entire time cooped up in her Ultimate room alone, is willing to use her experience as an assassin to help out with the investigation when she just walked out in the past, etc. Problems from a past like that would never be so easily faced in reality; people and their minds are much more stubborn than we’d like to think, too. 

In general, I am also highly averse to the Women in Refrigerators trope. To some extent, I feel that Kaede fits this trope, as a.) she is an important, pivotal, incredibly fleshed out female character and even the initial protagonist of ndrv3, b.) she dies arbitrarily for a murder she did not commit, c.) a big part of her death is written into Shuichi’s character development for making him grow as the protagonist (he sheds the cap, faces the truth, and the memory of Kaede’s last wishes serves as his support to reveal the truth several times in trial), and of course, d.) her death in the execution is grotesque as befitting of a Danganronpa execution. Kaede deserved so. much. more.

There are probably more out there, but I won’t mention them for the sake of length & time. 

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Okay! So don’t hate me for this, but I haven’t been really keeping up a bunch with fanfiction writers or specific ones that much. It just hasn’t ever been a habit of mine in the past to follow one writer–ironic, I know. There’s one that immediately comes to mind, but she’s not part of the Danganronpa fandom, so unless someone asks, I’ll leave her out of it. However, there are a couple of writers that I recently discovered through the Oumota weekend event and which I follow on my main blog, and I thoroughly enjoy reading their work. Their work also contains mentions of NDRV3 spoilers!

1. @kirastrations

I recently reblogged her work on this blog because I have so much love for the Oumota fic she wrote (which deserves more love!). It’s called One by One, One After Another, and I simply adore the way she writes Kaito’s character and experiences with the other characters throughout the game and the overarching feeling that comes across as a result of the situation and what ensues. The diction choices she makes is absolute art; I see the imagery so clearly in my head, and not a single word of hers is wasted. It’s concise while being aptly and most beautifully descriptive. Even though I’m not a huge fan of Kaito, the way she writes him and his actions make me love him. I would describe the work as a futile yet desperate and exquisite struggling, an embodiment of angst that is so beautifully painful that it appears to be an illusion. I haven’t had a chance to check out other works from her just yet, but that’s on my to-do list!

2. @golden-redhead

I love, love, love their work too. They recently posted Lavender, a Kirumi x Kaede (Tojomatsu? Kaerumi? Kirumatsu?) work for femslash Feb, and it is a post-reality Virtual AU short fic. The way they write the interaction between Kirumi and Kaede offers such a delicate, carefully constructed image and story while creating some tension between the two. They also format the story with Kirumi’s thoughts in a simple and straightforward way that is just so delicious to read. Aspects of Kirumi explored are small things that unravel into a bigger statement about her character and the nature of the killing game and the impact it has left on her. It reminds me of the way a player might gently stack up a house of cards–attentively, with a sharp eye and feel. 

3. @starlightwritesalie

They wrote these two Oumota fics for the weekend that I fell in love with, especially the one for Day 1: Heroes/Villains. Sometimes when living in the world of Danganronpa, you forget that these tragic situations and the killing game are experienced, in essence, by children. You can argue that they’re older than high schoolers for the first two games, but mentally they are still high schoolers, and let’s face it–a couple years above the legal age of being an adult in America, 18, can hardly be counted as an adult, either. They reminded me of that sickening fact so poetically yet bluntly, and the story they write only serves as a further reminder of that fact. They write statements about the situation and how the pair act in the situation that are so agonizing yet irrefutable–as is the situation that they’re both trapped in. The ending is so unbearably cruel, packed with pain, but the way they create it is so decisively soft and snatches away my breath with the truth at the heart of the game, the situation. 

So there you have it! Sorry that my answers are so long... I have too much to say, and especially about the people whom I adore. Since it said to pick 3, I didn’t get to include these two, but I also love aroseandapen and mystic-mints dearly. If you ask, I’ll write a whole paragraph on why I love them, too, although I suspect by this time you all are getting rather tired of all my talking, haha. I also didn’t include imagines blogs, but if you’re curious, feel free to ask about that since I am still kind of a imagines blog! I guess at this point I’m kind of a fusion of an imagines blog and normal fanfiction writing blog.

Thanks for asking, and if you have any more questions, feel free to shoot an ask!

[thewadapan]

I rewrote an obscure Transformers comic from the 1980s.

Creator’s Commentary

It’s 1984. Marvel’s four-issue Transformers miniseries has been a smash hit, and they’re already expanding it into a full monthly ongoing. Marvel’s UK branch is looking to import the book, but they have a problem - the newsagents want weekly issues, and there simply isn’t enough comic to fill those pages.

To meet demand, they bring on Simon Furman to write extra comics weaving into the US material. Because he’s the only one with any idea what's going on, he continues to churn out Transformers stories for almost ten years - with only occasional contributions from other authors.

“Peace” is one such interloper.

Written by letterer/editor Richard Starkings under his “Richard Alan” pseudonym for the 1989 Transformers Annual (which was actually published in 1988), it presents one of Cybertron’s alternate futures. Its exact placement in continuity was contentious - even within the comics’ own letters pages, where the editors (writing in-character as Transformers) gave several contradictory answers to questions regarding its canonicity.

The comic opens when the final Decepticon is killed by the Wreckers - an elite group of Autobot shock-troopers. With the war over, the very-very-tired Autobot leader Rodimus Prime announces that he’s going to step down - letting the Wreckers’ leader, Springer, take his place.

Unbeknownst to the Autobots, not all of the Decepticons are dead after all - the double agent Triton still hides amongst their ranks. In an attempt to incite conflict, Triton suggests that Ultra Magnus would make a better leader. The Technobot combiner team agrees, and an argument breaks out between them and the Wreckers. Whirl argues with Triton, Triton punches Whirl, Roadbuster pulls a gun on Triton, Scattorshot shoots Roadbuster, Sandstorm shoots Triton, and the war begins again.

It’s a grimly interesting story, one forever doomed to remain a footnote in Transformers history. Fittingly for a bot of subterfuge, Triton’s alternate mode was a submarine - at least according to Dreadwind in the letters pages. Marvel UK fanboy-turned-creator Nick Roche much later reinvented him as a member of Squadron X - sworn enemies of the Wreckers in IDW Publishing’s Transformers continuity.

In its most recent reprint as part of the twenty-second volume of The Definitive G1 Collection, “Peace” was left stranded as an afterthought alongside Regeneration One - with the rest of the UK strips being collected across the first twenty volumes alongside their contemporary US material. That partwork was curated by Simon Furman, who still writes Transformers stories to this day - despite pleas from some corners of the fandom for him to just call it quits already.

Richard Starkings, meanwhile, went on to found Comicraft - bringing lettering into the 21st century by pioneering the use of digital fonts in comic books.

I wasn’t alive when most of that happened. My first brush with Transformers - at least, as far as I remember - came when I saw Transformers: Armada’s Land Military Mini-Con Team on the shelves of my local Woolworths (a much-loved now-defunct chain of British department stores). I didn’t get it at the time, but when our birthdays rolled around (or maybe Christmas? I was young; I barely remember any of this and neither do my parents) my brother and I got a bunch of Mini-Cons. Our first brush with Generation 1 would come much later, when we found a knackered Strafe at a car boot sale.

For a long time, my only experience with Transformers fiction came in the form of the cartoons - they didn’t show Armada on Freeview so I missed most of that, but Energon and Cybertron both aired in their entirety on CITV. I had the pack-in comics, and the Armada and Energon annuals - which basically just collected random Dreamwave comics without context. All of which is to say that, at the time, I felt pretty starved for good Transformers stories.

Finding the 1989 Annual in a secondhand bookshop, then, was like finding the holy grail.

I won’t lie. I had basically no idea who any of these characters were, or what was going on. But damn if I didn’t pore over every inch of those pages trying to work it out. And I sure as hell was gonna sign the thing, lest those abominable Firecons paid me a visit to finally incinerate what was presumably the only Annual they’d missed back in 1988.

Years passed. Some movies came out. I drifted away from Transformers for a while after my parents said “aren’t you a little too old for these” one time too many. Well, it was either that or the hordes of overpriced Bumblebees clogging the shelves at the time.

Eventually, though, I was drawn back to the franchise. A Humble Bundle of IDW’s comics and Thrilling 30 Sandstorm was all it took.

For some reason, at some point I decided to start a meme page. I don’t know why. Please don’t look at it. I don’t want to talk about it. Most of the edits I made were atrocious, although I’ll admit there’s a few I still find pretty funny. I actually referenced Transformers a bunch of times. There was this whole thing where I tried to work in a plot, so really the whole thing was much closer to a terrible webcomic than an actual meme page.

Perhaps the most involved reference to the franchise came in the form of a relettering of “The Night the Transformers Saved Christmas”, a 4-page comic originally published in a 1985 issue of Women’s Day. Why did I make that thing? I don’t know. Maybe a little more context would help.

Y’see, waaay back when the first Armada toys hit shelves, fans weren’t too impressed - to say the least. They’d seen pictures of highly-articulated prototypes, only to find that articulation completely absent in the finalised figures. To make matters worse, the first pack-in comic was pretty lacklustre - thanks to the trilingual dialogue squeezed into its speech bubbles.

One enterprising fan (Yartek, now better known as Blueshift) expressed their dissatisfaction by completely rewriting that pack-in comic’s dialogue - reimagining Hot Shot as a deranged, jam-obsessed cannibal. It was an idle joke, but one that tapped into the collective consciousness of the fandom at the time. Its popularity grew to the point where it was even referenced on the license plate of a later Hot Shot figure.

By Blueshift’s own admission, the comic isn’t all that great. Nowadays, the atmosphere surrounding Armada’s launch is but a hazy memory for most of the fandom - leaving the comic’s depiction of Hot Shot looking more like an uncomfortably ableist caricature than anything approximating a real parody.

But I digress. I was barely aware of Transformers when all of this happened. My point is that JaAm was like an abridged series, only presented as a comic, and I thought that was a neat idea. I was looking to make a post that was a little bit different for Christmas Day, and remembered the existence of that old Women’s Day comic. Thus was born “its christmas... so what??”

My process for that one was pretty straightforward. After reading the comic once to get a broad sense of its plot, I went through it again panel-by-panel - blocking out each narration box with an autoshape and adding my own text. Mustard features pretty heavily in it... I guess as a reference to jam? Honestly, I was writing this thing entirely by the seat of my pants and - with the exception of the choice panels I’m including here - it’s pretty unfunny as a result. I’m not proud of it. Even at the time, I felt like I could’ve done better. So, half a year later, I did.

When the mood eventually took me, there was only one option in my head - Richard Starkings’ “Peace”. This time, I took a moment to plan the whole thing out in my head before diving in.

I think my idea for the plot came about simply as a result of Rodimus’ body language and expressions on the second page. I reckon I looked at them and thought, “man, he looks like he’s just caught a whiff of something pretty nasty.” From there, my mind jumped to Triton... the culprit, naturally.

When you go back and read some of the early Marvel stuff, there’s a bit of dissonance between the Furman-esque galaxy-spanning conflicts and the more offbeat “the Transformers crash a wrestling match / concert / car wash” stories written by US author Bob Budiansky. At times, the Transformers could be figures of real gravitas - and at others, they were almost like children.

For both “its christmas” and “PASS” I tried to lean into the latter interpretation as much as possible. As a reflection of that, the dialogue and narration - both written in Times New Roman - are completely devoid of punctuation, capital letters, or special formatting. Well, mostly...

There’s a few instances in “its christmas” where capital letters are used for emphasis.

Roadbuster’s dialogue gets to keep its punctuation, and is written in (I think) Arial, because he’s supposed to be more mature than the rest.

Each comic had one panel which retained some of its original dialogue - the fourth on the first page of “its christmas”, and the fourth on the fourth page of “PASS”.

There’s a couple of instances in the comic where characters use swear words, only the wrong letter’s censored - “sh*t” became “*hit”, “f*ck” became “*uck”. That’s simply an artefact of the comic’s origins in my old meme page, where that was a running joke.

In addition to changing the text, I also made a few visual edits...

I changed the comic’s title from “PEACE” to “PASS” (as in, to pass gas) by chopping up and rotating bits of it.

I changed the credits for “RICHARD ALAN” (writer) and “GLIB” (letterer) to “ME” and “ME AGAIN”.

On the fifth page, I rotated Springer’s, Ultra Magnus’ and Sandstorm’s mouths by 180 degrees - changing them from horrified grimaces to jaunty smirks. That’s why they’re kind of lopsided relative to the rest of their expressions! Honestly, the original version looks pretty strange to me now.

I likewise modified Sandstorm’s and Ultra Magnus’ expressions in the first panel of the final page, and Nosecone’s in the second panel.

I scribbled out the question mark in the little “THE END?” box on the final page. This is the definitely the end; no need to beat around the bush.

The idea to make Roadbuster a butt monkey stemmed from the fact that he was the only non-triple-changer to appear on the first page. I saw that panel with the four of them together and thought “one of these guys is not like the others.” And of course, I knew that he’d be dead in a few more pages.

Once I’d established Springer as a bully, I started to get a sense for what life was like amongst the Autobots - but there were still things I wanted to leave open to interpretation...

Why does Roadbuster hang around with the other Autobots so persistently, when all he receives is abuse?

Is Triton’s fixation on “cred” overblown, or is it the only reason he’s survived as long as he has?

Is Rodimus really past his Prime?

Who’s really the coolest Autobot?

Are the Autobots inherently bad people, or simply products of their environment?

If they’re the latter, does that excuse their actions?

If these are the Autobots... then what were the Decepticons like?

Here’s some other miscellaneous notes...

There’s a single speech bubble on the fourth page where the speaker’s off-panel. In the original comic it belonged to Triton, shouting “HEY!” Here, I like to think it’s Whirl speaking.

In the narration of the second panel, I refer to the Transformers as “car robots” - a nod to the Japanese name of the Transformers: Robots in Disguise series.

Rodimus’ “light their darkest hour” line is, of course, a quote from the 1986 animated Transformers movie. Yes, I’m as tired of those references as you are, but no, I couldn’t resist.

I can’t remember if it was deliberate, but I’m pretty sure “if you catch my drift” was a nod to The Transformers: More than Meets the Eye - where original character Drift stars as Rodimus’ third-in-command.

Speaking of More than Meets the Eye - when it was relaunched as Lost Light, Rodimus got a brand new purple colour scheme. In “Pass”, Rodimus agonises over whether or not to get that same paint job.

“Mucho cred” is kind of a memetic phrase amongst readers of the superhero web serial Worm. I feel like “cred” is one of those inherently funny words (along with “cahoots”), so that was enough to justify its inclusion here. If you’ve somehow made it this far into this post, trust me when I say that Worm is a rabbit hole well worth tumbling down.

“Peace” has a very strong atmosphere. It’s about a group of individuals - who’ve known nothing but conflict for thousands of years - suddenly finding themselves with nobody to point their guns at. That exact same scenario played out decades later in IDW Publishing’s Transformers continuity, where it was explored in much greater depth - but in just six standalone pages, “Peace” presents its broad themes with impressive clarity.

I think we’re very much invited to root for Triton - he’s a real worm, but he’s also an underdog. When characters are created whole cloth in Transformers stories, they’re marked for death.

“Pass”, on the other hand, is about a group of kids who’ve lost all sense of perspective. The most important thing to each of the group’s members is how they are perceived by the rest. They’ve been living under ever-increasing social pressure, and things are finally reaching a boiling point - and people die as a result.

And I say “kids”, but the truth is that I still see these dynamics amongst grown adults today - admittedly without the death. For any given subculture, you’re going to find ingroups, outgroups, and the awkward middle ground between them. If I thought there was a clear-cut solution, I would’ve put it in the comic. But oftentimes - like I said in the closing panels - there isn’t really anyone at fault.

If you fart in public, don’t stress about it too much. Nobody really minds. Just own up. And whatever you do, don’t try to pass the blame - or else...

As one final nod to Marvel UK’s Transformers comics... here are some short AtoZ profiles for the entire cast!

You can follow me on twitter if you want to see more of my Transformers ramblings. The rest of my writing can be found right here on this blog - I recommend starting with Everything Is Red Now, a dumb comic about Spider-Man.

[flightyrock]

Laundry Day

Summary: It’s laundry day for a certain pair of half ghosts.  But when Vlad digs deeper than he should, he finds more than dirty laundry, testing the bonds between father and son.

OR

A shameless fluff fic in which Vlad is too hard on himself (as usual), Daniel does his best to reassure him, and Vlad proves he is father of the year material.

Featuring: accidental naps, hugs galore, and rambling internal monologues.

Characters: Vlad Masters, Daniel Masters

Tags and Warnings: Father/son relationships, Backstory, Emotional fluff/pain, Really Long Flashbacks, invasion of privacy, miscommunication, allusions to suicide, hopelessness, fake science, grey ethics, fake medical jargon, dehumanization, Vlad’s special brand of angst, mild body horror, clichéd tropes, happy ending, cuteness

If you’re concerned, feel free to PM me and I will be more than happy to provide a detailed summary or tell you what parts to avoid.  All of the iffy ones, save for the emotional hurt/comfort, only last for a few paragraphs.  Most of them are contained in the flashbacks, which are in italics. But on a whole, it’s father/son fluff and feels.  Be safe!

Word Count: ~10,500

I’ll also make this available on AO3 for your viewing pleasure, since I know some people (myself included) prefer that format better.  But tumblr makes it easier to share, so that won’t be linked for awhile; I’m thinking a week?

Some notes before we dive in, since this is the first fic I’ve written in this particular universe, so there are a few (read: a lot) of things I need to cover.  Explanation and story under the cut!

Update:  This isn’t posting right, so I’m going to remove the links for now.  If this works, I’ll make a separate post with the links.

This fic takes place in what I’ve nicknamed the “Perfect Son AU,” an alternate universe to Danny Phantom where Vlad successfully created a clone, which he named Daniel.  It’s a working title, and someone else might have already come up with something better, but I’m running with it for now.

I did not create Daniel; he was originally introduced as an unnamed character along with a possible future version of Vlad in Butch Hartman’s second “Danny Phantom: 10 Years Later video.” All we’re told is that he’s a mixed clone of Danny and Vlad.

Of course, this premise has tons of potential, and several artists have created content for him.  I fell head over heels for @schnivel‘s interpretation; the designs and characterization are just incredible, and gave me that creative itch. I live for that cute picture of Vlad and Daniel at a Packer’s game.  There are also a bunch of doodles, and the tags provide fun details, hinting at character dynamics and firmly establishing Daniel’s presence in-universe.  The rest of his art is awesome, too; it’s incredibly expressive (facial expressions and body language are always SPOT ON), and he has some really neat OCs, so be sure to check him out!

Schnivel also took the time to chat with me, and answered many of my questions regarding Daniel’s characterization.  Thank you so much!

I discovered that other artists loved this version of the character as well, and during one of schnivel’s discussions with prom during one of @promsien‘s streams, she had the fun idea that Vlad knits Daniel sweaters, and heaven help anyone who ruins one of those.

Needless to say, this (and other details surrounding the fallout) gave me…ideas.  This incident is only hinted at in this fic, which started out as a cute 1500 word fluff piece I thought up on the bus back to school after Thanksgiving break.  But then plot and angst snuck in, and the characters just weren’t quite right, so four rewrites, 9000 words, and about two months later, here we are; the longest piece I’ve ever written.  

Keep in mind that this is just my interpretation of schnivel’s canon, based on details from several sources, so the events described here may or may not have occurred; essentially, it’s a fanfic of schnivel’s AU.

This story takes place after about a year after Daniel’s creation, in the transition period between schnivel’s 16 y/o and post puberty designs.  While not necessary to enjoy the story, I strongly recommend taking a look at these before you begin reading; you won’t be sorry.   Some other quick details to keep in mind:

1.  Daniel is still in high school, and is enrolled in Casper High.

2.  Daniel =/= Danny

3.  Yes, Daniel knows Danny and they do not get along.

4. Vlad and Daniel live together, and share a healthy (and frequently adorable) father/son relationship.  They get along incredibly well most of the time, and genuinely care about each other.  Vlad is finally happy (mostly), and it’s my favorite thing ever.  Do me a favor and do not tag this as ship, please and thank you.

5. Danny is not in this fic, but he is referenced a couple of times; once, confusingly, as Daniel.  (I’m sorry; blame Vlad.)  It’s not mentioned in this fic, but he doesn’t call Danny “Daniel” anymore, for obvious reasons.

Alright, enough notes!  I’ve rambled long enough!   Kudos to you for reading this far; I do think the context is necessary to fully appreciate this story, so if you skimmed, I completely understand, but I urge you to check out the five-point list and links  [sorry guys, removed these to see if they were the problem] above. And remember to check out @schnivel and @promsien.  Thanks, guys!  So, without further ado, enjoy!

“Daniel, laundry!”

The amiable call echoed off the interior walls of a luxurious but tasteful mansion overlooking Amity Park; walls that had changed extensively in the past year.  Previously, the nondescript barriers existed out of necessity, stabilizing the considerable load of the structure and dividing too much space into too many cold, empty rooms.  

One wall in particular, located between the entry and the main staircase, changed dramatically, and now proudly announced to visitors that two shared the space, and quite happily at that.

An eclectic selection of frames housing amateur photographs were mounted artfully in a quantity bordering on excessive.  From this, an outsider could reasonably assume that the curator was either an overly-enthusiastic hobbyist or a new parent.

In this case, both assumptions would be correct.  Indeed, most of the photos focused on a single boy, specifically, a teenager, sporting unique, striped locks and a smile.  

But this wasn’t your average, awkward, get-me-out-of-here, oh-my-god-are-we-still-not-done-taking-pictures-yet kind of smile that most teenagers plastered on instinctively to escape the camera: No, this was a genuine, candid expression of happiness that would make any photographer worth their salt dissolve into blissful tears.  It would have been hard to believe the boy was truly a teenager, if not for the distinctive, almost puppy-like proportions that suggested there was still growing left to do.

He was occasionally joined by an older gentleman wearing a smile of his own; more guarded, but no less genuine.  In these photos, the boy veritably beamed at the camera or the man himself, expression all the brighter in his company, leaving no doubt just who was responsible for cultivating such joy.  Likewise, the boy coaxed the man out of his shell, steadily transforming a shyly quirked corner of the mouth into a joyful grin as the series progressed.

The gentleman in question was currently strolling around the house, dressed casually in socks, slacks, and a button-down.  His sleeves were neatly rolled above the elbows, exposing muscular forearms that strained to maintain an awkward hold on the large basket of casual wear.  His burden couldn’t have been too cumbersome, however, as he took a moment to admire the photo wall, as he always did.

He shifted the basket, clamping it against his left hip with the same arm, freeing his right to compulsively straighten an already perfectly-aligned portrait of the boy, providing an excuse to linger.  

It was one of his favorites; a candid shot he had snagged during one of their first snows together.  He was quite proud of it.  Daniel kneeled on the plush window seat, dwarfed by the dual floor-to-ceiling windows.  His features were alight with childlike wonder and the soft, winter sun, breath fogging the glass as he peered out of the pane, entranced by dancing flakes.  Vlad’s eyes grew misty, recalling cold, damp clothes, laughter, and hot chocolate   His shoulders softened a touch, mouth pulling upward fondly.

The reverie was broken by an uncomfortable burn in his forearms as the basket slipped slowly downwards under gravity’s influence, prompting him to readjust his hold and resume his search.  

It was that time of year again; the relentless heatwave had broken at last.  Residents of Amity Park gave a collective sigh of relief, enjoying cool days and brisk evenings just shy of uncomfortable as summer gave way to autumn.  Full suits were no longer suffocating.  And football season was in full swing.

In short, life couldn’t be better.  There was something invigorating about the crisp, cool air that accompanied the changing seasons, putting Vlad in the rare mood to do some tidying.  Housework was a small pleasure he had rediscovered recently; busy hands left the mind free for reflection, something that Vlad wasn’t as eager to avoid these days.  The reason for this?  Well…

“Daniel!” he called again, perplexed by the continued lack of response from his young charge.  No, his son, he reminded himself, distracted for a moment by the thrill of excitement and anxiety that still shot through him at that thought.  Against all odds, he was a father.  

He savored the feeling as he searched, peeking around the corner to the living room on a whim, and bit back another call.  Warm affection swelled in his chest at the rare and, admittedly, adorable sight.

His son, Daniel, was sprawled lengthwise across the couch, out like a light.  Sleep had hit him hard and fast; the awkward position of his limbs was telling, and looked anything but comfortable.  

A socked foot was braced on the floor while its twin was slung over the couch’s far arm, still trapped in a sneaker, laces tangled from an abandoned attempt at removal.  One arm hung limply to the side, while the other was likely going numb, trapped against the back and beneath the Maddies, who were taking full advantage of their human’s compromised position.  

The opportunistic felines were curled up on the half-ghost’s broad chest, passive-aggressively close to one another, soaking up the warmth.  Like many cats, they managed to radiate smug bliss even from the depths of slumber, much to Vlad’s amusement.  

He really couldn’t blame them.  Naps for Daniel were a rare occurrence, after all; the boy rarely slowed down long enough.

But Vlad had almost forgotten what else autumn meant; school was once again in full swing.  A ridiculous amount of coursework accompanied Daniel’s ambitious class load, pushing the limits of an already-taxing daily schedule.

In addition to coursework, he participated in several extracurricular activities, made time for friends, and dedicated himself to a rigorous training and tutoring regimen of Vlad’s own design. No wonder the boy was exhausted.

Not that he had so much as hinted at fatigue, eager to prove himself.  

Vlad mentally shook his head, pride mixing with fond exasperation.  He had, admittedly, forgotten just how difficult it was to be a teenager (though he thinks he can be excused for this oversight given that it’s been over twenty years since then; twenty long years).  He vaguely recalled expectations to tackle a workload any self-respecting, paid employee would strike over.  

Daniel, like many teenagers, did that and more with only a fraction of useable energy at his disposal at any given time, resources diverted to accommodate the emotional and physical stress the body underwent as it matured.  Puberty had hit Daniel late and with a vengeance.  The boy had been shooting up like a weed lately, the gap between his cuff and ankle widening at an alarming rate (not surprising given the state of the pantry at the end of any given week; the teen had to be burning through massive amounts of energy in the process).  

As his coach, Vlad had noticed he was struggling physically; his center of balance shifted so rapidly he just couldn’t keep up.  Daniel’s frustration was all but tangible at times, face heating with anger and humiliation when he fumbled through warm-ups and drills that had once been simple. Recently, more often than not, he left their practice sessions drained and irritable, shower doing little to dispel a dark mood that carried over into their evening lessons.

Vlad wondered if he was sleeping enough.

Judging from his current state alone, the poor boy needed all the rest he could get.  Vlad quelled a rush of remorse for pushing him so hard, reminding himself that Daniel had set the pace.  

Insisted, really.  He was normally eager, almost desperate, to improve, diving into training with a single-minded intensity that rivaled Vlad’s own.  Daniel had protested furiously when Vlad had suggested they take it a bit easier during the school year, pushing himself even harder.

Vlad chuckled fondly; Daniel was his son, after all.  But perhaps he could persuade him to revise their schedule to an every other day kind of thing; in hindsight, it was a bit ambitious to have lessons and physical training on the same day…

Musing about schedules, he set the basket aside and approached, debating whether the merits of repositioning gangly limbs into a more comfortable position outweighed the risk of waking the boy.  

No, better to let him rest. He was young, after all; he probably wouldn’t suffer from the stiff neck Vlad wouldn’t admit to getting if he slept at the demonstrated awkward though, admittedly, impressive angle.  (His neck definitely did not twinge in sympathy. He wasn’t old.)

He settled for carefully prying off the remaining shoe before unfurling a fuzzy throw that hung over the back of the couch, settling it gently over long legs, careful not to disturb the felines.  They, of course, would have no such qualms about waking Daniel in their subsequent bid for freedom should they be trapped beneath the heavy fabric.

His fond gaze migrated upward upon completion of his task, settling on Daniel’s face, relaxed in slumber. It was a rare treat to observe his son in such a peaceful state, and he was somewhat tempted to take a picture (too bad his camera was in his room).  

Daniel looked so young this way.  The man’s eyebrows bunched, oddly nostalgic as he took in the boy’s strengthening features, an early sign that he wouldn’t be one for much longer.  Soon, soft lines would vanish completely, giving way to the strong jaw and defined cheeks that were already taking shape.  

He would miss these days. Vlad felt an irrational surge of longing and loss, feeling absurdly cheated out of the early years, of a tiny Daniel smiling at him, of endless questions and childlike wonder (which was absolutely insane, considering he didn’t even like children.  There was a reason he’d decided to create a teenaged clone).  But if that was the case, Vlad supposed he wouldn’t be the Daniel he knew now.  It was probably for the best.

He sighed, and ran a gentle hand through thick stripped locks, marveling at the silky softness as it slid through his fingers.  It really was getting long, Vlad thought idly, scratching lightly across the scalp, delighted when the crease between Daniel’s eyes smoothed, and he sunk deeper into sleep with a content sigh.

Vlad lingered for a moment before withdrawing reluctantly, gathering up the basket again with a sigh of his own.  A nap would do the boy good, he reminded himself, so he’d best leave Daniel to it.

Of course, this meant he was back to square one with the laundry.  He was looking for Daniel in the first place to gather his dirty clothes so Vlad could start a load or two before dinner.

Well, perhaps he could still do that.  He could always take a detour into the boy’s room himself.  He was certain Daniel wouldn’t mind the intrusion; after all, he was simply retrieving laundry, so he wouldn’t be there long.

Decision made, he turned back, pausing to empty his basket in the laundry room before ascending the stairs once again to the wing that housed their personal quarters, hesitating for a moment before cracking open the door and entering Daniel’s room.  

It was strange, being here without the room’s main occupant.  He felt a bit like an intruder.  The space was shockingly well-kempt for belonging to a teenager, not that he was surprised; Daniel was hardly your average teenager.  

As expected, his dirty laundry was in the hamper, and Vlad wasted no time in sorting through it.  

Something was off, though. Vlad lived with his son, so of course he noticed that Daniel had started sweater season as soon as he no longer ran the risk of suffering heat stroke.  That meant there should be about two weeks’ worth of ripening knitwear, as none had been sent out recently.  But there were none to be found in the hamper, and, despite the fibers’ natural resistance to sweat and grime, it was certainly time for a wash.

Most, if not all, of Daniel’s sweaters were handmade, knitted by Vlad himself, so required special care.  He supposed Daniel could be keeping such garments separate in a display of caution. Conscientious, as always.  

Not that it was necessary; Vlad only hired the best, and, of course, always ran a brief inspection of the sorted garments before they were taken to the proper cleaning facilities. Details meant everything in his line of work, and his appearance was one of many he monitored personally.  Sure, he was a billionaire, and could afford purchase a new wardrobe any time he wished, but it hadn’t always been this way. He was taught to take pride in his possessions, and waste was unthinkable; far be it for him to neglect his roots.

Shaking himself out of his musings (he certainly was distracted today), he got back to the task at hand; finding the sweaters.  He supposed he could simply wait and ask Daniel during their evening session, but leaving the job half-done would bother him.

Vlad was a completionist to a fault, and knew that if he put this off, he ran the risk of losing his productive mood.  Not to mention the thought of the laundry sitting half-finished would torture him all evening; it would have been better to have not started at all.  And he wouldn’t wake the boy.  But this also toed the line of invasion of privacy.  

He weighed his options, and decided that a taking a brief look couldn’t hurt; he was already here, after all. In such a neat space, there weren’t exactly an abundance of hiding places.

He checked the walk-in closet first.  A thorough search left him baffled by the complete lack of sweaters, dirty or otherwise. He had checked the drawers (meticulously folded), hangers (formal wear was sorted by degree of formality then color), and even the floor (his shoes were lined up so perfectly he put showrooms to shame).

Daniel clearly treasured his possessions, and Vlad felt a rush of pride.  His son kept his space in perfect order, and everything had a logical place.  Except for the sweaters, it would seem.  Which didn’t make any sense.

His frustration grew as he continued to pace the room and failed to find a single one. ��He was running out of ideas, and was uncomfortable at the thought of exploring much further.  On a whim, he ducked his head under the bed, admittedly feeling a bit foolish; this was one of the oldest clichés in the book.

But his eyes were immediately drawn to a large cedar chest, a copy of the one he himself used for keepsakes.  He had forgotten the boy had one as well; Daniel had been delighted with the gift, especially when Vlad had shown him the contents of its twin in his private study.

Vlad slid the heavy container out, running a hand across the sanded, weighty lid, hesitating for only a moment before giving in to his curiosity and lifting it before he could change his mind.

Sure enough, here were Daniel’s sweaters.  He let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.  Mystery solved.  The quantity bordered on insane, way more than he remembered making, Vlad observed somewhat sheepishly.  What could he say?  He was a stress knitter.  

But he was particularly fascinated with the way the garments were packed.  Despite the large quantity, each sweater was folded with a degree of precision that spoke wordless volumes of care.  Handmade garments often had quirks; small flaws that made each piece unique, making it nearly impossible to pack them away neatly.  Daniel had somehow managed it by treating each sweater as an individual, modifying his folding technique slightly to ensure optimal fit.  Even the dirty ones were carefully folded, and placed on the smaller, right-hand side of the central divider.  It made his closet look sloppy in comparison.

Reluctant to ruin what was clearly several hours of work, Vlad carefully flipped through layers of sweaters, separated with tissue paper, the garments growing smaller as he descended. He was sure most of these didn’t have a hope of fitting Daniel any longer.  

One stood out from the others, though.  It rested at the very bottom of the heavy chest, and was individually wrapped, obscured by many layers of delicate tissue and tied loosely with string.  This deviation from the established system sparked Vlad’s curiosity further, overriding common sense, and before he knew it, he was carefully removing the wrappings.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t this.  

He drew in a sharp breath, unnerved, and delicately traced the ragged edge of a black-rimmed tear with shaking fingers, transfixed.  It extended downward from right shoulder to sternum in a great slice, like it had been severed with a hot knife.  

Bafflingly, someone had also gone to great lengths to attempt repair; the edges were joined with neat, if pointless, stitches.  Only the lack of patching material revealed that this was a rush job.  Admirable effort, but an exercise in futility nonetheless; nothing could hope to fix the charred edges.  

The garment was utterly ruined.  No wonder Daniel kept this one covered so well; it likely brought back unpleasant memories, but the boy clearly didn’t have the heart to get rid of it.

Upon closer inspection, Vlad realized he recognized this sweater.  The vague unease grew into a feeling far more unpleasant.

It was the first one he’d ever made for Daniel, not that he’d known that at the time.  It had been started with his own dimensions in mind, but modified on a whim; gold and green, stitched together with hands bathed in the eerie green glow of the incubation chamber.  

He had been a different person then, twisted by hatred and blinded by his obsession with the Fentons.

Each stitch had been formed in bitter anger, to keep him grounded, patient.  Clicking needles helped to cover up the maddening hiss of the central air system and the relentless beep of monitoring equipment.

He knew at his core that this would be the last plot, his last attempt to take what was rightfully his; should he fail yet again, the fallout would be devastating.  He would be unable to stop himself from giving up, from descending irrevocably into madness.  Because at the end of the day, hate was all he had, his only constant along with his pride. But hatred took energy, and he was tired.  So tired.

Lips curled in disgust as he ran the clumsily-constructed fabric sitting in his lap through his fingers, reliving the turmoil through the record of amateurish mistakes that littered the garment.  Each pucker and twist, invisible to the untrained eye, glared at him accusingly, reminding him of sins he could never atone for.  Made him sick with guilt as they whispered to him, reminded him of a time when Daniel had been merely an “it” and “the clone,” a tool he had every intention to use for revenge.

He was practically living in the dim, sterile, underground room, on standby to respond in a moment should the clone destabilize again.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in his own bed (he kept a cot down here), gotten more than two consecutive hours of sleep, or eaten something more substantial than the occasional protein bar. He carefully refrained from imagining the state of the companies he was neglecting.

But this stage of the project was too unpredictable to leave unattended, the clone’s outline in the cloudy fluid filling the tube bobbing peacefully up and down, blissfully unaware that its existence could end in an instant.  But he wouldn’t let that happen.  He would have his prize.  With a completely obedient half ghost by his side, he would rule.  He had taken no chances, had combined a stolen sample of the Fenton boy’s DNA with his own.  It was his ultimate weapon.  No one would be able to stop him. No one could keep him from his rightful place.

But throughout human history, it is in moments like these that astounding things can happen.  Picture a person building a perfect pyramid, finally reaching the absolute top, standing on that tiny, sharp pinnacle, at the very highest they can go.

It is when we are at this peak, feel the most unstoppable, have the firmest foundation, are the most confident in our convictions, that the smallest breeze can topple us over and force us to rethink the foundations of our self-constructed realities as we fall, force us to shift our reality; rebuild, or cease to exist.  

It is the small things that shake us to the core, that have the power to change us forever.

Be it stroke of luck, fate, divine intervention or pure coincidence, one such moment occurred in that sterile lab when a rare set of circumstances coincided.  The fluid ensconcing the clone ran clear for several minutes, reflex prompted new eyes to flutter open, and Vlad happened to look up.  

And looked into a familiar set of blue eyes that he hadn’t seen anywhere other than a mirror since his mother had passed away all those years ago (he had searched for her desperately after he learned the nature of his transformation, to no avail).  They may have been obscured by fluid, but the shape and shade were unmistakable; they were her eyes.  His eyes. Staring unseeingly back at him.

It was…disturbing, to say the least.  Blame it on sleep deprivation if you will, but he felt his mother’s eyes cut right through him, accusingly, judging him for his behavior in her absence.  Forcing himself to do something he had done his very best to avoid, in a way only she ever could.  

So Vlad Masters took an honest look at himself for the first time in several decades.  

And he wept, because he knew that she didn’t like what she saw, was disappointed in him.  He had known this, on some level; it was why he had been putting off this realization for years.  But, he was surprised to find that she wasn’t disappointed he had fallen so far; no, because she knew and he knew now, too, that he had fallen.  Which meant that he was capable of picking himself back up and hadn’t. He had chosen not to, had chosen temporary comfort over the harder but healthier path.  But he could do better.  He would do better.  If not for her than for himself.

And on that paradigm shift, he rebuilt his world.  The eyes closed.  

And Vlad, with fresh eyes, truly looked into the face of the being he created for the first time.  But dread overtook him when he realized he wasn’t seeing the face of a clone.  No, instead, he was looking into the face of a child.

It took him back to the first time he had met young Daniel at the college reunion, blindsided by an irrational rush of paternal pride and unspeakable longing to get to know this boy, realizing that he wasn’t, didn’t have to be alone anymore. (How wrong he was).

That familiar, fierce longing again surged to the surface, become part of his world once again.  A desire he had buried long ago when the hopelessness simply became too much to bear.

All he had ever wanted was someone to love.

He thanked everything he could think of that he hadn’t started the programming, that is, the brainwashing, yet. And he wouldn’t.  He’d keep the basic learning protocols, so the boy could communicate, have basic knowledge about the world, but nothing else. If he wanted a son, he’d earn his trust and affection the old-fashioned way.  The right way.

But he was forgetting something.  New hope warred with sick dread.  But why? What threatened his happiness now? Because this being he created wasn’t a tool, this was a child.  His child. So still.  So fragile.  

The realization opened the floodgates, and he fought to keep the rush of panic at bay. What had he done!?

Once again, in a display of arrogance and ignorance, he had put someone at risk.  He already cared too much about the boy, was once again on the verge of losing everything. Because the child, Daniel, was dangerously unstable.  He could die.

Vlad couldn’t let that happen.  

For the first time in years, he was truly terrified of the consequences of failure.  Because he wasn’t used to consequences.  In an instant, the project had evolved into a horrible tightrope walk between life and death. He hoped the anxiety wouldn’t kill him first.

It was touch and go for a small eternity.  Vlad lost sleep, hair, and his lunch to far more close calls than he cared to recall.  He was certain he aged about twenty years that month, trapped in a micro-hell of his own design; he still had nightmares about that innocent face devolving into ectoplasm, but awake, screaming in agony from the confines of the tube at a pitch that made his hair stand on end…

Vlad mentally shook himself. No.  He thought about this quite enough at night, no sense in dwelling on it during waking hours as well.  

Preoccupied with the stressful task of keeping Daniel alive, sleeping in the lab even after the boy had stabilized out of sheer paranoia, he realized he was woefully unprepared to care for a child; embarrassingly so.  He panicked when Daniel emerged from the tube, realizing he hadn’t given a thought about basic needs.  Like clothing, for example.  

His “newborn” was freezing; his small frame shook uncontrollably in the thin sterile gown as he was propped upright on a cot so Vlad could monitor his vitals, a pile of medical blankets doing little to combat the chill. The boy was in tears; uncomfortable and confused, agoraphobic and overwhelmed by this strange new world, so Vlad had grabbed the completed sweater instinctively and helped the boy into it, hoping the warm weight would ground him, rambling about inconsequential things to distract from the alarming machines as he worked to reattach feeds and wires.

He cringed; in hindsight, he had risked further overstimulation that way, and the outcome could have been disastrous.  His palms still grew slick with cold sweat, and his blood pressure skyrocketed whenever he thought about everything that could have gone wrong, all the mistakes he had made in those early days.  He cursed his stupidity.  

Vlad shook off his self-disgust in favor of gathering up the old sweaters, having forgotten his original task, otherwise occupied with the chaos of his memories.  They didn’t fit Daniel any longer, so there really wasn’t any sense in keeping them.  

It was embarrassing how amateurish they looked now.  They were an unwelcome reminder of a time when he was at an absolute low.  He just wanted them gone.  Especially that first one.  The marred fabric seemed to mock him.  Yes, better to dispose of it, and bury the anxiety and fear that came with it.

He gathered his legs under him with mild difficulty, surprised to discover he was a bit stiff—he had been kneeling on the floor longer than he thought—and glanced up at the doorway.

Only to lock eyes with Daniel, who stood, gaping, in the doorway, hand frozen in an abandoned attempt to straighten tousled locks.  Tension radiated from his too-still frame, and wide eyes flickered from confusion to shock to panic.

Vlad froze as well, uneasy; he had never seen this look in the boy’s eyes before, and never cared to again.  Sick dread pooled heavily in his stomach as all other thoughts evaporated; he knew without a doubt that something was very wrong.

“Dad,” Daniel whispered, hand dropping abruptly.  “What are you doing with those?”

His gaze lowered, fixed on the pile of sweaters in Vlad’s arms.  Vlad looked down as well, and blinked, bemused by the sudden lack of sweaters there.

Daniel hugged the garments to his chest tenderly, like a young child would cuddle a favorite stuffed toy for reassurance after a scare.  In moments like these, Vlad was reminded of how new to the world the boy really was; it was too easy to forget when he wore the skin of a teenager.

A familiar, irrational stab of loss joined the budding guilt and self-loathing; that strange yearning for early years that never occurred.  

Nostalgia must be a theme today, he thought idly.

Reason returned as he watched Daniel drop carefully to his knees a deliberate distance away to begin refolding the stack.  Vlad’s inquisitive and concerned gaze was studiously avoided as the boy focused entirely on the task at hand.

Careful hands guided handmade fabric into precise creases reverently, deep blue eyes gleaming with a look of concentration so intense, it might have been comical under different circumstances.  If he didn’t recognize the carefully constructed front for what it was.

Upset was an understatement; and despite an admirable effort, Daniel was unable to conceal the slight tremble that made his hands clumsy and slow, an obvious tell that only intensified the harder he tried to hide it.  

Overall, he gave the impression of one who had survived a close shave.  As the shock slowly abated, Vlad’s mental alarm bells became more insistent.  This reaction was a bit extreme, even for someone experiencing the emotional fragility that was part and parcel of an unplanned nap.  Something wasn’t quite right; he was missing some crucial detail.

“Daniel, what…” Vlad trailed off, at a loss, hands reaching toward the boy helplessly, then falling short, uncertain.  “What did I—”

“You were going to get rid of them, weren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. The words were tight, clipped. His eyes remained fixed studiously downward, even though it was obvious that he wasn’t truly looking at the abandoned sweater in front of him, fists clenched in an a futile attempt to suppress trembling fingers.

Daniel abruptly rocked back on his heels and wiped roughly at his face, shattering the invisible barrier between them, allowing Vlad to finally take action.  He scrambled in his haste to close the gap.  

He gathered the boy clumsily into his arms, and Daniel practically melted into the firm embrace before returning it fiercely, clinging to him in turn.  A striped head filled his peripheral vision, resting its comfortable weight on his shoulder, and soaked the light fabric covering it in warm wetness.

It was unclear how long they remained that way, respecting an unspoken agreement to set aside the circumstances for awhile in favor of comforting another; indulging in the unique security that came from holding a kindred spirit close.  

After a while, Daniel pulled away reluctantly, sniffling wetly and wiping halfheartedly at his nose. Vlad produced a fresh handkerchief and settled into a cross-legged position, facing the teen, waiting patiently for him to collect himself while he gathered his own thoughts.

“I apologize, Daniel,” he began, slowly, when the sniffles had eased, and the boy settled into a similar position, rolling edges of soft fabric anxiously between his fingers as he met Vlad’s gaze.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that I am at fault here, but I do admit that I’m not entirely sure what exactly I did to cause you this much distress.  Regardless, I should not have been in your room or searched through your things without your express permission.  I knew better, but I did it anyway.  I invaded your privacy, and for that, I am sorry.”

Daniel maintained eye contact, reddened and puffy appearance doing nothing to diminish the sincerity evident in their depths.

“I forgive you.”

There was no hesitation. The honest declaration mowed through Vlad’s emotional barriers, and his vision blurred as identical blue eyes prickled with tears of their own.  

He bit his lip.  His mistakes had long entrapped him, clinging fast and weighing him down.  Experience taught him that, once made, he would never be rid of them.  This knowledge, this fear, were iron shackles. It was his curse.  But this boy…

Never before had he known such forgiveness.  

Daniel absolutely hated to see his dad cry.  There was just something fundamentally wrong about seeing someone you cared about in distress.  So he was quick to reassure, hoping to fend off the flood and the inevitable interrogation.

“There’s really no harm done.  They’re all here, they’re safe.”

Honestly, this assurance was just as much for himself.  Of course, he would have forgiven Vlad regardless of the outcome; his dad was way more important to him than keepsakes, but this had come completely out of left field.  

He had always been so careful, and seeing his collection spread across the floor had been the last thing he had expected after trudging upstairs to finish his homework before training, cursing himself bitterly for falling asleep.    

He had really only meant to rest his eyes for a second or two, having gone distractingly cross-eyed while undoing his laces, falling instead into the deep kind of sleep that left one feeling fuzzy-headed and irritable upon waking instead of rested.

Daniel looked over at his favorite sweater, the one he had taken the most care to preserve.  As always, fury at the damage was tempered with fond warmth.  He flushed lightly, briefly recalling the circumstances of its repair.

His dad, who had since pulled himself together, followed his line of sight, brows drawing together in confusion, focused on the blackened article.  

“Why keep these?  Most are much too small, and this one,” he pulled the garment closer, “is damaged beyond repair.”

Daniel’s hands twitched instinctively, ready to come to the rescue at any moment.  

Honestly?  The thought of getting rid of them had never even crossed his mind, so he hadn’t.  And he felt much too strongly about the garments to ever consider it.

But his dad was looking at him expectantly, obviously waiting for an answer.  He had no idea how to put his jumbled thoughts and feelings on the matter into words, so he called upon the time-tested art of stalling.

“But you made them for me,” he settled on a basic truth, trying to buy a bit of time as he scrambled, struggling to string his thoughts into a pattern his dad would accept.

“I can make more, you know,” Vlad pointed out reasonably.  “There’s no sense holding on to something that’s outlived its usefulness. At this point, they’re just clutter—”

“They’re important to me!” Daniel snapped, and Vlad blanched, drawing back in shock.  

Daniel’s eyes widened, immediately regretting his outburst.

He didn’t mean to yell at his father!  But that statement hit distressingly close to home.  It was like Vlad wasn’t talking about the sweaters at all.  For a moment, his nightmares were playing out before his eyes…

He forcefully shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind in favor of running damage control; he had hurt his dad, and he looked on guiltily as his father struggled to school his features into a neutral position.

“I’m sorry, Dad!” Daniel rushed to explain, mentally kicking himself for his tone.

“I would never get rid of these.  I just can’t. You spent so much time on them, and it makes me feel cared for, kind of important, you know?”  

He traced the hem of the special one, eyes softening as his face heated up, but he was determined to get this out before he could talk himself out of it.  “Not to mention they’re basically portable hugs.  You’re with me all day this way.”

He hadn’t exactly wanted to give quite that much away.  But if he had to choose between his pride and his dad, his dad would win every time. It was the truth, after all, and he knew he had made the right choice when his dad’s eyes softened, and he was swallowed in his embrace once again.

Daniel had learned a long time ago that his father’s hugs went beyond the physical; they were part of an extensive nonverbal language, expressing what words simply could not.  

Because he maintained a stern public image, a necessity in his line of work, most people didn’t realize that his father was a very emotional man.  Daniel had seen how often he was misunderstood and slighted by his peers (to Daniel’s fury) because they never experienced this.  

For someone who claimed to have little experience in the area of affection, he sure didn’t act like it. Daniel still had no idea how he managed it, how exactly he coordinated the variations of timing and pressure into such clear but complex expressions.  This time, Vlad was conveying relief, awe, gratitude, and as always, more than anything, love.

The guilt intensified, sitting heavy and low in his stomach.  He didn’t deserve this.  He’s such a hypocrite, furious when others fail to appreciate his father, but hasn’t he done the same thing?  Vlad cared so much, almost too much, about other people; he would do anything for the ones he loved, for Daniel.  Anything.  And yet, Daniel was upset because he had tried to declutter.

Of course, Daniel is fully aware that this isn’t exactly the reason he’s upset, but he’s very careful to avoid the thought.  Now is not the time to think about this.  It’s much easier to tell himself he’s simply sentimental.  Nothing else.  

Vlad’s grip tightens almost imperceptibly, seeking reassurance, and Daniel pushed aside the painful train of thought, eager to provide it.  

He returned the embrace fiercely; he loves his dad more than anything, and he was determined to convey this. He knows he can’t hold a candle to Vlad’s raw skill in this area, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

He must have succeeded to some degree, because he feels his dad relax a bit.  Daniel sighed, settling his head once again onto a broad shoulder, still a bit damp from earlier, and takes the opportunity to burn this moment into his memory, to add it to his collection.  

He savored the slight tickle of grey locks on his upper check, sprung loose from their ties; the pleasant burn of cologne mixed with a scent that was simply Vlad drying his sinuses and coating the back of his tongue; the unnatural heat radiating through his silky shirt, warm and comfortable. For a small eternity, he knows nothing but safety, comfort, and love, and basks in the feeling.  

They eventually break apart and, once again, take a moment to collect themselves before Vlad looks again to Daniel’s favorite sweater.

“What happened?” he ventured, concerned by the implication that someone had attacked his son in human form (and rightfully so), but reluctant to upset Daniel further.

Daniel gathered it up with a sigh, reluctant to delve into complicated memories again.  He began to refold the garment, grateful for the excuse to avoid eye contact as he, fumbled for an answer that would satisfy his father, struck with an annoying sense of déjà vu.

“I took care of it. Doesn’t exactly fix this, though.”

Vlad sighed; he knew that truth all too well.

They kneeled there awkwardly for a moment, neither entirely what to do, caught in that strange limbo that followed any major argument; that period where you tell yourself everything’s okay now, but you know deep down that it’s a lie.  Because the cycle of injury, apology, and forgiveness isn’t some magic fix, and no relationship pops back to how it was before even though the issue has been resolved.  Things weren’t really okay yet, and they probably wouldn’t be for a little while.

Honestly, the invasion of privacy didn’t sting nearly as much as his own insecurities; he’d move on. But would Vlad?

Daniel glanced surreptitiously his father.  Vlad was an expert at the practiced neutral face, but Daniel knew better; his poor father would be beating himself up about this for days.  

Sure, he was still a bit shaken, but nothing had happened.  Vlad was just too hard on himself.  He had been a mess for weeks that time he had broken Daniel’s nose after opening a door too quickly, despite the fact it had healed without a scare in a matter of days. He had hated the way his father had tiptoed around him, hated that tortured look in his eyes as the incident no doubt looped in his mind, on repeat; over and over again.

If only there was a way to reassure his dad that he still had Daniel’s trust, a way to break through his uncertainly.  He played with a loose hem pensively, cursing the circumstances that had led Vlad to rummage through his sweater box in the first place…

Sweaters.  It was so obvious.

He gathered up the unwearable sweaters into a neat pile again.  He was embarrassed by how reluctant he was to go through with this, but if he had to choose between his dad’s happiness and sweaters that didn’t even fit anymore, well…

There really wasn’t a choice at all.

He got to his feet, and hefted the pile (there really were a lot of them), depositing them in his father’s arms.  He smiled wryly as his dad looked down at the pile, bewildered, before raising his gaze and quirking an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Take them.”

Vlad blinked, lips parted slightly to respond, before they shut again.  He glanced to the side, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to reconcile the large volume of mixed messages he had received that afternoon.

“What?” he asked, settling on the explanation that, somehow, he had simply misheard.

“Take them.” Daniel maintained firm eye contact, staring into blue pools identical to his own.  “You were right, they don’t even fit me anymore.”

“But, Daniel, those are yours,” Vlad sputtered, intelligently.

Daniel smiled softly.

“They were.  But now I want you to have them.”

Vlad looked helplessly at the pile, as if it held the answer to the puzzle that was currently throwing him for a loop.

“But why, Daniel?  You told me you love those sweaters.”

He left his father on the floor and walked to the door, grabbing his backpack on the way.  He’d do some homework at the kitchen table for a while, give his dad some time alone to process.  He paused in the doorway, a melancholy smile pulling at his lips as he gave his answer over his shoulder.

“I do.  But I love you more.”

                                                      ><><

This particular project normally would have taken months; Vlad had it done in one.  But not because he had rushed; no, he made absolutely certain it was perfect.  Nothing less for Daniel.  He didn’t sleep much anyways.

Daniel’s demonstration had the intended effect; knowing he still had his son’s trust even after his mistake meant the world to him.  

It had been a shock, at first.  He hadn’t known what to think when the boy handed his treasured pile of clothing over with barely an explanation.  It had been more difficult than he’d like to admit, allowing his son to walk away after sharing such a sentiment, leaving him on the floor to collect his thoughts. But after the shock (finally) wore off, the implications of the gesture warmed him to the core.  

(He also was trying his best not to dwell on the implication that someone attacked Daniel.  His son.  In human form, no less.  Because if he thought about that for too long, it took him to a dark place.  He trusted Daniel.  He did.  But surely it hadn’t been out of line to investigate the incident himself, not that he found anything, to his frustration.)

By the time training had begun that evening, Daniel appeared to have forgotten all about the incident. To the untrained eye, that is. Vlad had to give credit where credit was due; he had admirable focus during training and finished all his homework, but he’d caught a glimpse of him with the cedar chest out again later that evening on his way to bed; reorganizing.

Vlad truly had no idea the boy was so fond of the sweaters.  He could have kicked himself.  He thought he knew his son so well; how had he missed something so important to him?  Sure, he always beamed and hugged him whenever Vlad presented him with a new one (which may have contributed to the vast number now that he thinks about it, hmm…) but then again, Daniel always thanked him for gifts, equally delighted be it a motorbike or a new toothbrush.

In hindsight, though, the favoritism for knitwear was obvious, in the way his eyes would light up just that much brighter, how he’d wear it the very next day.  And his words…

They’re basically portable hugs.  You’re with me all day this way.

He had replayed this exchange countless times over the past month, the warmth in his chest just as strong as day one.  Never before had he known such happiness.  Such love.

His eyes prickled a bit. It was strange kind of responsibility, to have such a significant role in the happiness of someone else.  He both cherished and feared it in equal measure, terrified he would wake up one day, and he’d realize he’d imagined this whole thing. Or worse, that he would drive Daniel away himself one day, just like every other important person in his life. He’d be alone again.

For years, he chased a mirage of this feeling, feeding his obsession with a woman who would never return his affections, and later, her son.  At some point, he had given up, resigned himself to a lifetime of loneliness and swore revenge instead. He had cursed his failures, then.

Now, he thanked whatever power was responsible for those failures; any “victory” he may have achieved during that time, which now felt like lifetimes ago, would have been a mockery of the affection he craved, a mere taste that would have eventually driven him mad with longing.  Daniel had freely given him what he’d never dreamed could exist.  And it meant the world to him.

He didn’t deserve Daniel. But for some unknown reason, he had decided to stay.  He was the first person who had chosen Vlad above all others, and Vlad longed to show him how much he meant to him.  

He would continue to make the boy sweaters.  Socks. Hats.  Scarves.  Heck, he’d learn how to sew properly and make all his clothes, if it meant this much to him. But one step at a time.

On that note, Vlad put the finishing touches on the piece, feeling the strange mixture of melancholy and satisfaction he experienced whenever he completed a long-term project.  

And to his delight, it turned out much better than he had hoped.  He had conducted extensive research regarding design and technique; it was pretty far out of his comfort zone, and he only had one chance to get it right.  But it was worth it.  Anything for Daniel.

He took a moment to appreciate the fruits of his labor before packing it away with the utmost care.

Everything had to be perfect.

                                                     ><><

Something was up. Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he watched his dad make breakfast.  The change was subtle.  Only someone who saw the man on a daily basis would notice the difference; he was almost twitchy, movements sharp and almost harried as he fixed Daniel’s plate.  

His Dad placed the food in front of him with a quiet “good morning” and a tired smile.  Daniel noted the bruises under his eyes were darker than usual.  Daniel thanked him before focusing on his plate, inhaling sharply at its contents.

Pancakes.  In fun shapes.

Oh no.  It was worse than he thought.

He kept stealing glances at his dad as he ate, watched him worry at the handle of his coffee mug and pick at his own pancakes.  Daniel hated to leave him like this, but really, there wasn’t anything to be done when Vlad was in one of these moods.  And his dad wouldn’t want him to miss school.

If he lingered a bit during his goodbye hug, his dad didn’t comment.  Just bid him to have a good day, like usual.

Daniel tried to go about his day as he normally did, but was unable to shake the concern for his father. They texted as per their habit during his lunch break, in between laughing with his friends, but Vlad seemed a bit…distracted, he supposed.

(His friends could have told him that Vlad wasn’t the only one, but, like all good friends, they didn’t comment, opting instead to respect his privacy, confident that he would talk when and if he wanted to.)

Needless to say, Daniel wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he crossed the Masters’ threshold that afternoon, hanging his jacket on the rack and shouldering his backpack, anxious to check on his father.

“Dad, I’m home!”

No answer.

He deposited his keys in the dish, and moved through the entryway, calling twice more, trying not to worry when he was met with silence.  

While uncommon, it wasn’t unheard of for Daniel to get home before Vlad.  But with the mood his dad was in that day, he was on edge.  Normally, he would text Daniel when he was working late.

Daniel sighed, running his fingers lightly along the wall of pictures as he made his way down the hall and up the staircase, deciding to distract himself with a bit of schoolwork while he waited for his dad to get back.  He hoped he was alright.

Daniel deposited his backpack beside his desk, taking a moment to kick off his shoes before pulling out his phone to text his dad, making his way over to sit on his bed, glancing up to check the height (his muscle memory wasn’t the most reliable these days; he was running into furniture and walls so often that his dad often joked about childproofing) only to stop short.  There was already something sitting there.

It was a box of medium size, just short of being too large to hold comfortably with two hands, wrapped simply but neatly in white paper.  Resting on top was a light green envelope, with his name inked in gold in a familiar hand.

He furrowed his brows, perplexed, and set aside his phone to pick up the envelope.  Unless he was very much mistaken, this was a present from his dad. Strange.

Not that surprise presents were an unusual occurrence; on the contrary, his dad loved giving him gifts, much more than Daniel enjoyed receiving them.  The quantity had been truly ridiculous at first.  It took a while for him to convince his father to relax, admitting that while he appreciated the thought and attention, he felt guilty that he was unable to reciprocate.  So they had compromised, agreeing to save gifting for special occasions.

Of course, Vlad pushed the boundaries of this rule, but it made him so happy to do nice things for Daniel that the teenager didn’t have the heart to call him out.  As long as he didn’t go overboard, Daniel had decided he could live with the occasional surprise.

He picked at the flap of the heavy paper envelope.  

But, unlike any other time his dad gave him a gift, he wasn’t here.  Daniel knew from experience that the real fun of gift-giving came from watching the recipient’s reaction.  

And his dad’s absence was clearly intentional.  Vlad was a master of presentation; the private location combined with the open and inviting position of the box and envelope was not coincidental.  Not to mention his unusual absence from the house at large.  And no audience meant no pressure, no need to control his reactions with the feelings of other in mind, free to be himself.

Which meant it was a gift intended for Daniel and Daniel alone.  He was touched.  And intrigued.

He finally managed to get a thumb under the tight seal, prying the glue apart slowly, careful to leave the envelope intact.  He pulled out a sheet of simple off-white stationary, revealing a message in his father’s distinctive hand.  

Daniel chuckled a bit; for someone so detail-oriented, his handwriting was atrocious.  He sat down, and began to read.

Dear Daniel,

I apologize for violating your privacy and your trust about a month ago.  I have no excuse.  I allowed my curiosity to overrule my common sense and overstepped your boundaries.  Worse, I used this knowledge to impose my will when it was neither wanted nor necessary, failing to respect your space, and by extension, you.  I am sorry, Daniel, for this, and any similar past missteps that I failed to recognize.

I cannot promise you that something similar will not happen again; I promise to try my best, but as much as I pretend otherwise, truly, I have no idea what I’m doing.  You are the first person I have shared a space with in over twenty years, and those past examples did not end well.  Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I successfully drove away everyone close to me.  I hurt people.  I’d like to think that I’m a bit wiser now, but I know that’s not entirely true.

To be completely honest, I’m terrified, Daniel.  You are my only son.  I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt you as well.  And I did hurt you, that day.  Others have left for far less.

Imagine my surprise when you forgave me so easily.  I simply couldn’t believe that it could be that easy.  You know that I trust you, Daniel, but you have to understand that years of evidence to the contrary are not so easily ignored.  

And then you decided to prove that there were no hard feelings; you gave the subject of my betrayal back to me, as a sign of good faith.  Your prized possessions.  Given freely.

I suspect you don’t have any idea clue how truly special you are.  So selfless, so kind.  If I hadn’t had such an involved role in your creation, I never would have believed that you were my child.

So thank you, Daniel.  Thank you for being you.

Daniel blinked back tears, taken aback by the forthright nature of the letter.  It was just so honest, so Vlad that he wasn’t sure if he should shake his head or cry.  Honestly, he was a bit disappointed; he had thought that his show of trust with the old sweaters had been enough to assure him of Daniel’s sincerity, and relieve him of guilt.

He loved the man, but it killed him how stubborn he could be.  He didn’t need to apologize again; Daniel had been tired that day, and overreacted, reading farther into the situation than he should have.  They were just a bunch of old sweaters.  This was his dad.  Why couldn’t his dad see that?

He decided to move on, rubbing at his eyes, unable to suppress a snort at the next line:

Now, because I know you, I’m certain that unlike every other teenager in existence, you read the card first. So do me a favor, please; open up the box before you read the rest.

He shook his head.  No one knew him like his dad.  He’d worry about the implications of his predictability later.

For now, he took the box into his lap; it had heft, but wasn’t heavy, per se.  He turned the package over, searching for the seams, and methodically pried tape away from the wrappings, careful not to tear the paper, savoring the anticipation.

He set the paper aside, and grasped the lid of the oversized white cardboard clothing box, prying it away from the bottom half, and brushed aside green and yellow tissue paper.  His hands began to shake.

He was greeted with something familiar, yet new.  He traced the old knit pattern, yarn soft from wear, but freshly laundered.  He tried a couple of times to lift the bulky block of fabric from the box, but it was packed tight, and he was unable to find purchase.  So he gave up and turned the box over onto the sheets instead, then unfolded its contents, eager to see the piece in its entirety.  He gaped.

They were all here. All of his old sweaters, the ones that he had given to Vlad that day.  The ones that he reluctantly put aside one by one when he could no longer slip into their warm embrace.  He had mourned the loss of the memories that went with each one, resigned to enjoy them as mere keepsakes.  

He didn’t regret giving them to his dad, but he had missed them.

Here they were, but not as they were; the torsos had been divested of the sleeves and divided in half down the sides, former front and back forming large patches that were sewn methodically onto an oversized sheet of ultra-soft fabric.  Parts of the sleeves had been repurposed into artful borders to separate individual sweaters.  The construction had been stuffed lightly, and formed a type of quilt.

Overall, the effect was stunning, striking a perfect balance between respect for the past and celebration of a new era.  

As far as he could tell, every salvageable part of his collection had a place.

In the middle, framed like a piece of art, was the front of his favorite sweater.  His first one, complete with mar and repair job.  He traced his friend’s handiwork reverently, taking a moment to reflect before taking action.

He arranged the quilt on top of his comforter, admiring the personal touch it brought to his space.  He itched to burrow under it immediately, but he knew better; there was no way he’d be able to avoid falling asleep right now if he was that warm.

It was, without question, the most thoughtful gift he had ever received.  So much time and care had been poured into this.  He had no idea how his dad had managed to organize the diverse collection into the aesthetically-pleasing and functional piece of art resting on his bed. He felt a rush of concern for his dad.  When had he found time to sleep this month?

With a jolt, Daniel remembered that he still had half a letter to read.  

He bit his bottom lip, conflicted, and decided to take a calculated risk; he burrowed socked feet under the quilt and shimmied down to his hips, sighing in delight.  The warm weight was unbelievably comfortable, and his feeling of nostalgia only intensified with contact. He had missed this.  His dad’s voice colored the rest of the text.

Life is full of change.  I often did my best to resist it, believing it could bring only pain.  You have taught me that this isn’t always the case.  Change can bring pain, but it often brings benefits as well.  Especially when it brings about growth.

Take your sweaters for example. You were, and still are, incredibly fond of them, despite the fit becoming uncomfortable as you outgrew them.  To continue to grow unhindered, you had to take the small sweaters off.

You’ll continue to grow in many different ways.  I look forward to seeing who you will become.  

But you will find that you will outgrow more than old sweaters in the course of your life.  Mindsets, routines, places.  At some point, you’ll realize that they’re no longer as comfortable as you remember, but moving on can be hard.  

When you reach the point of no return, Daniel, you must promise me you won’t linger.  Trying to fit into that “old sweater” again, as tempting as it is, will only bring you pain.

I regret to say I speak from experience.  I was stuck, for many years, trying to fit into my own “sweater,” denying the restriction because it was all I had.  I was stuck, longing to change my circumstances, but unwilling to release my hold on the “then” and embrace the “now.”  

It was painful, to say the least. I wallowed in anger for years, refusing to share blame, placing it fully on the shoulders of my friends, pushing them away.  Then I wondered why I was always unhappy and alone, with only my dark thoughts to keep me company.

I was still that person when you came along.  No hope, intent on using you as a tool for revenge and conquest.  But you were greater than I ever dreamed, far more than I could ever hope: A person.  My son.

It terrified me; you were too good for this world, too good for me.  And I was ashamed, thought myself unworthy to be your father, terrified I’d ruin you. That I’d fail you.

Please don’t make my mistakes.  Make your own.  Grow.  Live.  

Let this quilt remind you that it’s okay to remember the past, but not to dwell on it.  With some imagination, your memories can grow with you.   The past has its place, but life can only continue when you let go.

You taught me this, Daniel.  Let me return the favor.

And no matter what else in your life may change, you can rest easy with the knowledge that I will always be here for you, for as long as you’ll have me.

I am so proud of you, son.  I can’t wait to see what kind of man you’ll become.  

I love you.

-Vlad

An ugly mix of tears and snot streamed unchecked down Daniel’s face, dripping off his chin onto his shirt, arms carefully outstretched to preserve the letter.  

Sure, parts were a bit embarrassing. And sad.  But while his dad expressed his love often enough verbally, it was a different experience altogether see it in writing.  It felt more authentic, somehow.  Perhaps it was the deliberation that was required to record such a sentiment on paper; completely separate from the heat of the moment.  Sincere.

Today had been a roller coaster of emotion, from pancakes to quilts; he was exhausted.

When he first slid under the blanket, he had thought he’d never want to get up, reminded of his dad’s embrace.  But now, he found himself longing for nothing less than the real thing, confident he knew where his dad had been hiding under the circumstances.

In his haste, he elected to phase out from under the quilt, pausing only to set the letter carefully on his desk before phasing through several walls into Vlad’s private study.

Sure enough, there he was. Daniel barely registered that the man was staring blankly, hunched over an old photo album before it was lost from sight as he released the transformation and buried him in a hug from behind, over his shoulders and the desk chair.

Vlad tensed at first, so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard the boy come in.

“Thank you,” Daniel whispered.

Vlad relaxed, closing the book before turning around with a tentative smile.

Daniel let go, and Vlad stood so he could hug his son properly.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading!  I hope you had just as much fun as I did writing it!  I’m pretty new to writing fiction (I normally write research papers), so I’d appreciate any feedback you’d be willing to give me.  Feel free to point out any mistakes or oversights!  Overall, I’m really happy with how this turned out.  I guess fifth times’ the charm and all that.  I was concerned about the pacing being too slow, so I’m curious to see what you guys think.

I’m also open to requests!  Feel free to hit me up.  I have a few more shorts planned in this universe, namely, the story of how Daniel’s favorite sweater was damaged and an, admittedly, crack-ish short where Vlad and Daniel react to the sketch that started it all (Vlad commissions a family portrait, but has mixed feelings about the result); but after that, nothing’s planned, but I do have a couple of vague ideas.

Thanks for reading!

[talysalankil]

talys’s great nanowrimo 2019 debacle: the post

i felt like being grandiose, just not grandiose enough that I’d properly capitalize things. bear with me.

So I’ve had a bit of a time figuring out what to do for NaNoWriMo this year. So it’s venting time.

I’m also using this to do like, a status report on all my writing endeavors.

Okay so I haven’t had any new novel idea in a while now. I mean, that’s fine. I have a massive pile of WIPs anyway. But (and I think I already made a post about it earlier) the problem for nanowrimo was this:

I didn’t want to do a rewrite of any of the existing drafts:

FEITS v3 was paused at about halfway done in 2017, and while I’ve had a bunch of ideas for it, I haven’t really taken the time to work on them.

Psychopomp’s first draft is complete, but it could use a rewrite

Tangled Stars and Dragged to the Underworld are about 50k each with a missing third act

Eloped in the Night is a 15k word mess that needs major rewriting because it was still Brooding Lust when I wrote those)

Of these five books, four have planned sequels, but: I didn’t want to write a sequel, since none of them anywhere near a final stage. That being

FTEITS (for which I wrote like 30k of a first draft of book 2, most of which is good for the trash what with all the changes I’ve made), 

Psychopomp, whose sequel would have been the best candidate in this category honestly because I don’t think the rewrites would be super structural

Eloped/Dragged are part of the same universe though mostly standalones, but each of the subsequent books in that series would draw from one or both of these, and like I said, neither are even a complete first draft.

While I have a bunch of fic ideas, I didn’t want to do a fic for nanowrimo because it felt like cheating.

Which left me with um…like, nothing. Well, not quite.

So you may or may not know this (I kind of forget where I put information online) but my first draw to storytelling was actually video games. In broad strokes, here’s a quick history of that:

As a very young child (we’re talking 4-8 years old here), I’d play pretend with my plushies

When I got Crash Bandicoot 2 (one of my first video games I was really into), I started to imagine various games where my plushies would be the protagonists. Inspired by Crash, Zelda, other games…I remember once outlining a 15-part series of games around my favorite plushy, each of which was basically subdivided into chunks of different genres. I even invented a “dark age of the franchise”.

When I got Final Fantasy X and then got another gaming magazine with a walkthrough of Final Fantasy X, I started inventing a self-insert game based heavily on it, and wrote most of my ideas in the format of a walkthrough. I even parroted the editing style because I was like nine.

That story was iterated upon several times, and eventually yielded the character of Talys Alankil (well, sort of—the name actually originated in Guild Wars and was then repurposed. Somewhere in the lore, the two of them are like, extremely distant relatives, or were until I decided all copyrighted works were purged from canon). Thanks for creating my brand, 13 and 15-year-old mes.

I actually got into computer engineering because of games, except I then realized the storytelling was what interested me. Oops. I mean I like programming but I’d never want to work as a programmer in a game.

That tangent was completely pointless but whatever, this is the state of the talys post.

Anyway. Point is. I got a new idea for a game earlier this year. Life Is Strange 2 meets Octopath Traveler by way of Vanitas from Kingdom Hearts as the protagonist. This is the first time I have an idea that I can phrase in this kind of pitch so I’ll indulge. Fight me.

Working title is just “The Road” though obviously it needs some work, and over the past few months I’ve actually done some pretty good prep work, so I thought, hey, why not challenge myself this nanowrimo and write a script for a game instead of a novel!

And like, there’s no reason why not. I’m actually feeling pretty attached to the protagonist already, I’ve been wanting to try scrivener’s script writing tool, it could be fun. Of course, the problem is that a script for a game (especially this one) is inerently nonlinear and requires thorough planning, which I have not done. And nanowrimo starts…technically tomorrow night if I can still stay up past midnight.

[Second tangent time: I’ve been going for a teaching degree, which has forced me to reset my sleep schedule extremely hard and I hate it]

So that brings me option 2. Well, technically there are two options here, but only one that’s remotely viable.

I may have mentioned it before but in FTEITS, Adam and Cell bond over (among other things) a shared favorite book/author. Well, mostly a book. There is also a scene of Adam finding that author’s new book and experiencing nostalgia over his lost life, which may or may not survive the rewrites. The author, incidentally, is my self-insert in that world, and will also not be an active character in the plot of the books, but I just felt like mentioning it. And yes, that means my protagonists are fans of my work. Sue me.

The one they’re both a fan of is titled Snow to Ashes (I remember way way back, when I randomly picked a title “The Brain is Out”, before I had any idea what it was about). It is, incidentally, a chance to analyze Adam and Cell’s character arc by proxy and in a microcosm, which is good because I feel that sometimes their arcs are still kind of ill-defined. Basically the story has two protagonist and it is canon that Adam and Cell each relate more to one of them.

The problem with that is that now I’m getting a lot of ideas for Snow to Ashes, and I don’t know if I have the time to work all of these ideas and iron them out before nanowrimo starts.

So that’s where I’m at. Either way I will be pantsing it. I was hoping to get to do some outlining this week before Friday, but it turns out that being tired, having a pretty big spike of executive dysfunction, final fantasy 14, and my parents deciding to watch the TV again after years of not doing it (thus making noise at the time of day that would be perfect for me to write), is not fertile grounds for productivity. I am, incidentally, out of a FF14 subscription in four days, which is very fine by me since that game would also ruin nanowrimo itself, not just the pre-nano prep.

This isn’t really a request for feedback tbh, just, like I said, venting. Hoping to straighten my thoughts and figure out which choice is best.

As a PS i should mention that yes, the Talys Alankil game is also technically a writing option, and I could write a script for that. I mean it’s almost a rewrite because that one has a pretty rigid outline already, but. Yeah. It’s an option too.

Edited: I didn’t mention Malefacta. I didn’t forget about malefacta. I just don’t know what to do with Malefacta. It’s annoying.

Edited2: Remember when I almost wrote a superhero book for nanowrimo 2017? yeah that’s still a project I have somewhere. I’m no feeling it though. Sorry, superhero project. You were never meant to be, I guess.

[guidetoenjoy-blog]

Will Modern technology Developments Limit Leisure Options?

New Post has been published on https://entertainmentguideto.com/entertainment-news/will-modern-technology-developments-limit-leisure-options/

Will Modern technology Developments Limit Leisure Options?

Hollywood recently been telling United states about the economic problems the film industry is facing. In reaction, American citizens have questioned Hollywood to start generating videos which are sufficiently good to watch and well worth the 15 money theaters cost! Within the last four years admission revenue for new motion pictures have progressively lowered. How come this taking place? Are film theaters disappearing? Will movie studios get out of company and further limit client decision? This article will make an effort to solution these inquiries by evaluating the difficulties and opportunities faced by both the entertainment buyers and sector.

How come ticket sales declining?

Home entertainment system solutions

Aside from the restricted top quality of movies becoming created, many People in america have create %u201Chome theater%u201D systems inside their properties. The lowering of prices of big display theatre and TVs high quality encircle audio systems has generated a generation of film viewers that have the resources to create a theatre surroundings in their residences. Once you put the benefit of without having to accept a person else%u2019s weeping little one and having the capacity to pause the film when you should get a treat or drink there%u2019s really no question why movie theater attendance is downward.

Digital video disc release and rates house windows

For many years, the film business has operated on a series of sophisticated discharge windows:

Initial, films play in theaters, then, six months in the future, the video windowpane starts up, then the starting of your pay TV after which totally free television set home window. (Slate, Accessing for Bucks)

Since the price stage for the DVD is less than having a group of several towards the theater, numerous buyers just wait for a motion picture to become unveiled on DVD. Digital video disc participants have decreased in price a great deal they%u2019re virtually ubiquitous in American homes and so are an important component of any home cinema method.

Hollywood is being pressured monetarily on the movie theaters by these circumstances. An effective opening up weekend is an important part of the viability of your film. Studios spend about $30 mil every video marketing the theatrical relieve. The question several industry specialists are asking means that the studios don%u2019t change the making windows. Otherwise, get rid of them altogether.

Simultaneous Lets out?

Several of Hollywood%u2019s most significant players are testing this theory at the moment, sort of. The film Bubble, instructed by Steven Soderbergh and reinforced financially by tech businessman and Dallas Mavericks owner Label Cuban will be the very first of half a dozen motion pictures planned to test Hollywood%u2019s window process. Introduced Jan 27th, Bubble could be observed in movie theaters or pay-per-view on cable television and from satellite suppliers by way of HDNet television. 4 times later, Bubble was published on Digital video disc with additional content material on the DVD edition.

Bubble is a firmly controlled test. The film itself is short (72 minutes or so), starred only inexperienced stars and was largely panned by pundits. Theatrical syndication was limited to Landmark Theaters which Cuban owns plus some independents%u2026other movie theaters boycotted it. Pay out-per-perspective was also dispersed by way of a Cuban possessed business HDNet which includes circulation via numerous significant cable tv satellite and firms suppliers Recipe System and DirecTV.

A few days following the film%u2019s Soderbergh, Cuban and relieve declared glory with their experiment. Although theater income had been only $70,644 on 32 screens, DVD revenue quadrupled anticipations. A profit discussing model offered 1Per cent of DVD revenue to movie theaters that demonstrated Bubble. The motion picture by itself cost about $1.7 zillion to experienced and then make profit projections soon after simply a few days of launch.

Are motion picture theaters disappearing?

How come Hollywood earnings make a difference to Us shoppers?

If you like economics, the declining film ticket sales conundrum may be appealing to you. Most Us citizens nonetheless don%u2019t mind. Hollywood offers a photo of huge spending budgets, costly automobiles, film and mansions legend life styles while many of America is hidden under credit debt and battling to get gas with their Hondas or pay out their home heating bills. But, Hollywood profits need to matter, as if a movie, Television set system, or documentary doesn%u2019t possess a big audience, it receives cancelled and nobody reaches view it.

In The United States, we like our amusement. Even with the quality of a software program, television shows that don%u2019t have adequate enough audiences for community TV undoubtedly get cancelled. During my mind, Arrested Growth is amongst the funniest applications out there at the moment. It offers experienced essential achievement plus a central of visitors, but it won%u2019t be coming back again following time of year. Fox will shed the remaining events in poor and sometimes arbitrary time slot machine games. Even extended operating, %u201Csuccessful%u201D plans like The West Wing and Celebrity Trek: Company eventually get the axe. They could still create a earnings and United states shoppers could get the encoding we desire if Hollywood resorted to different syndication and income designs.

Will shoppers pay for TV encoding?

Hollywood has created an presumption that shoppers won%u2019t buy encoding and have to count on advertisers for profits. But, more than 70Per cent of Americans already sign up for cable television or satellite TV to obtain crystal clear programming. The question isn%u2019t regardless of whether American citizens are prepared to pay out, it really is exactly how much would they pay.

Andy Bowers from Slate gives this theory %u2013

The Western side Wing has about 8 million audiences per week. It costs about $6 million for each episode. To put it differently, if everyone who now wrist watches the display paid $1 a week, TWW would more than pay for alone.

Obviously not all the 8 zillion audiences could or would pay money for the show. But let’s say a quarter of which would. That’s 2 zillion men and women having to pay $3 for each episode (or possibly $4, organizing within a buck for Steve Tasks as well as the cable television organizations). The attacks could possibly be viewed over a PPV channel, delivered electronically to some DVR, or slurped on online video iPods.

If all Tv set coding could be distributed within this style, now, envision! Applications like Arrested Development wouldn%u2019t need to depend upon a high 20 standing to remain about the atmosphere. Coding would develop into a purpose of client demand%u2026American Television set watchers would actually have a lot more decision!

Will advancements in technological innovation lessen consumer selection?

Technologies creates selection

Technology may be the enabler within this case. If there have been no system for people like us to document or playback applications, we may still be at the mercy of Television set broadcasters for the leisure. The Electronic digital Television migration of 2009 will make it easy for every household to permit some sort of spend-for every-look at choice, even though they don%u2019t join cable tv or satellite Television set. Mobile observing options is likewise improving with models like Apple%u2019s video clip ipod device and Recipe Network%u2019s PocketDISH.

Now how do modern technology advancements impact films?

I found myself seeing yesterday following a Shaggy Canine commercial that a majority of new videos which can be advertised greatly are re-helps make, sequels or rewrite-offs of comic guides, video games or Tv programs. Consider the films unveiled currently %u2013 Starsky And Hutch, The Dukes of Hazzard, King Kong and Celebrity Wars: Episode III. But Edward Jay Epstein clarifies they are doing it on objective, i think it is due to the fact Hollywood experienced finally exhaust new ideas!

Simultaneous release on multiple websites will lessen the $30 thousand advertising expense studios use to blitz consumers into going out to a brand new motion picture on starting saturday and sunday. In turn, Hollywood will be able to manage to %u201Cgreen light%u201D a lot more movies that can nonetheless change a return even with smaller audiences. If movie theaters are shown a talk about of Digital video disc product sales, the burden of potentially getting a lot less video goers inside their chairs is relieved.

Bubble is only the initial of six films to be introduced concurrently by Soderbergh and Cuban. Soderbergh produced a prescient statement in a latest meet with, %u201CName any large-label film that’s appear within the last 4 years. It really has been for sale in all formats at the time of release. It’s referred to as piracy.%u201D Without a doubt, controlling piracy is a large determination associated with the market large move to digitize Television. Movie piracy can take numerous forms which includes recording the movie inside the theater with a superior quality video camera. Additionally, copying the expert disc from a submit-generation premises.

A conclusion

Bubble was just an exam. I believe another handful of films to get released by Soderbergh and Cuban will have a-checklist celebrities and really send a note to Hollywood they have to alter their enterprise model, or they are often out from company.

Technology is a good enabler of consumer and alter option. For Hollywood studios this is basically the ultimate revenue motor vehicle and maker for %u201Cjust in time%u201D product or service delivery. Simultaneous shipping of brand new films by means of numerous retailers like DVDs, movie theaters and cordsatellite and cord Television pay-for every-perspective allows far more selection for customers plus more option for Hollywood to create progressive, top quality videos. These positive aspects will also trickle as a result of Tv set development too.

Once they will adapt to technological developments instead of preventing them, hollywood often leads just how in driving a car electronic movie content for Television and movies whilst residing in manage. The music industry has recently displayed suing 12 12 months olds for installing pirated tracks is not any remedy for anyone.

Referrals:

http: //www.slate.com/id/2131124/

http: //www.slate.com/id/2135544/

http: //www.slate.com/id/2134933/

http: //media.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060131/ap_en_mo/package_place of work_bubble

http: //the-op.com/saveourbluths/

http: //www.slate.com/identification/2134803/

http: //www.alternet.org/mediaculture/31379/

http: //www.politechbot.com/docs/cbdtpa/hollings.cbdtpa.relieve.032102.web-page coding

http: //www.tv set.com/seinfeld/the-small-kicks/episode/2378/overview.web-page coding

http: //www.theforce.internet/episode3/narrative/Seven_Accept_Copying_Superstar_Competitions_DVD_96736.asp

http: //www.slate.com/id/2134453/

[miilk-honey]

Ejaculation Trainer Review

The Ejaculation Trainer is another guide that focuses on “fixing” the premature ejaculation issue. But will it extremely work? Is this product price your cash? Well, I even have bought it and below is my detailed look within this product with advantages, disadvantages, and within look. Hopefully, you will find answers to any or all your queries there. Attention: Before you purchase this program, try following free methods explained in this article – nine Ultimate Tips to Last Longer in Bed and Increase Stamina. These will price you nothing! My Personal Experience with Ejaculation Trainer Guys, before I strumbled upon Matt Gorden´s Ejaculation Trainer a few years ago, I was doing research on numerous ways the way to last longer in bed as I was the therefore-known as one-minute man. I actually have spent days whereas analyzing and trying completely different “secure and tested” methods. Sadly, these were either focusing only on temporary fixes or simply on one individual facet of ejaculation issues and were lacking a comprehensive approach. Luckily, when I have seen Ejaculation Trainer, I knew that this was a guide that can work as an extended-term final resolution on behalf of me. You may raise: “How did he apprehend that?“ Really, you can see that this can be not any scam from the primary look on its table of contents (see image above). This can be about 133-pages long document that covers most of the aspects connected to fighting early ejaculations. The first part of this guide (about 30-forty pages) is additional informative and will guide you thru what your ejaculatory issue is, and reasons why you're not lasting so long as you truly need to. These include your genes, heat of a moment throughout sex, higher mental and physical sensitivity, also poor masturbation habits. The rest of this guide is where its price lies! It explains the foremost effective techniques for regaining control over your ejaculations. Whereas copyright protects this eBook, I can attempt to provide you with a brief overview of what you'll expect:     Mental triggers & management – This was the foremost helpful half of Ejaculation Trainer on behalf of me. Some years ago, I had never even guessed that the most economical means to stop early ejaculation in my case would be through mental exercises and psychological control.     Eating the proper food – Issues with ejaculation (either premature or delayed) are littered with various hormones in your body like dopamine or serotonin. Luckily, there are not any pills required – all you have to do is to alter your eating habits slightly.     Techniques for regaining control – This guide can concentrate on long-term fixes for ejaculation problems like a specific manner of breathing, proper manner of masturbation, techniques for a rewriting of your ejaculatory reflex, plus techniques to strengthen your pelvic muscles. Keep in mind: Each end each man is individual with a distinctive explanation for ejaculation issues. Therefore, you wish to scan the second half of this eBook (about 70-80 pages) that focuses on each mental, also physical ways that of regaining management over your orgasms fastidiously. Personal Notes: What I Liked & Disliked ejaculation trainer basic package Benefits     This guide has been several years on the market already and has helped thousands of men.     Matt Gorden offers a complicated and long-term approach (that worked for him) to solving premature ejaculation once and for all.     All techniques, tips and tricks are clearly explained, and that's why making a blunder is almost not possible while following this guide.     With simply one payment of $49.0zero, this eBook is abundant cheaper than it is value.     Your purchase is protected by wonderful sixty-day, full-price, cash-back guarantee.     Alpha package with a ton of bonus materials to enhance other aspects of your sex life.     Confidential and useful customer service and suppport. Disadvantages     Initial half of this guide is written in a boring style (about 1st forty out of thirteen3 pages long E-book).     Sadly, author, although an knowledgeable on delaying ejaculation, isn't a doctor.     Beating premature ejaculation with Ejaculation Trainer methodology will take some effort and time.     This guide is only out there online in a PDF format. No hardcopy or paperback versions. Feedback on Ejaculation Trainer Feedback-on-ejaculation-trainer-ebook Source: Yahoo.com ejaculation-trainer-feedback Source: Yahoo.com Yahoo-answers-on-ejaculation-trainer Source: Yahoo.com Final Verdict: Promising Long-Term Answer for Simply $49.0zero ejaculation trainer rating Guys to be honest, though this product isn't totally excellent, it is one among the best I even have found as an extended-term solution for the early ejaculation. Although it is offered only online on the official website and your results can take time, with useful customer service and clearly explained techniques you may beat premature ejaculation. Just be patient and chronic with your training and you may see results soon! Believe me that feeling when you recognize that in sex, it will be she who can cum initial and not you is price each minute and penny you will invest into this program. Read these posts next to improve your sexual skills:     nine Ultimate Tips to Last Longer in Bed and Increase Stamina     9 Ways in which to Make Sex Last Longer     5 Fabulous Tips to Make Any Woman Squirt Easily     eight OMG Sex Tips That Will Make Her Obsessed with You     9 Types of Female Orgasm You've got to Apprehend

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[mingi-multifandom-blog1]

Ejaculation Trainer Review

The Ejaculation Trainer is another guide that focuses on “fixing” the premature ejaculation issue. But will it really work? Is this product price your cash? Well, I have bought it and below is my detailed look within this product with benefits, disadvantages, and inside look. Hopefully, you may realize answers to all your queries there. Attention: Before you get this program, strive following free strategies explained in this text – nine Ultimate Tips to Last Longer in Bed and Increase Stamina. These will value you nothing! My Personal Experience with Ejaculation Trainer Guys, before I strumbled upon Matt Gorden´s Ejaculation Trainer some years ago, I was doing analysis on varied ways the way to last longer in bed as I was the so-referred to as one-minute man. I actually have spent days while analyzing and trying different “secure and tested” methods. Sadly, these were either focusing solely on temporary fixes or simply on one individual aspect of ejaculation issues and were lacking a comprehensive approach. Luckily, once I have seen Ejaculation Trainer, I knew that this was a guide that will work as an extended-term final answer for me. You may ask: “How did he understand that?“ Actually, you'll see that this is often not any scam from the first look on its table of contents (see image higher than). This is concerning thirteenthree-pages long document that covers most of the aspects connected to fighting early ejaculations. The primary part of this guide (concerning thirty-forty pages) is a lot of informative and can guide you thru what your ejaculatory issue is, and reasons why you are not lasting as long as you really need to. These embrace your genes, heat of a flash during sex, higher mental and physical sensitivity, furthermore poor masturbation habits. The rest of this guide is where its worth lies! It explains the foremost effective techniques for regaining management over your ejaculations. While copyright protects this eBook, I can strive to provide you with a temporary overview of what you'll expect:     Mental triggers & management – This was the foremost useful half of Ejaculation Trainer on behalf of me. A few years ago, I had never even guessed that the most efficient means to stop early ejaculation in my case would be through mental exercises and psychological control.     Eating the proper food – Issues with ejaculation (either premature or delayed) are affected by varied hormones in your body like dopamine or serotonin. Luckily, there are not any pills needed – all you have to try and do is to change your eating habits slightly.     Techniques for regaining control – This guide will concentrate on long-term fixes for ejaculation issues like a specific means of respiratory, proper way of masturbation, techniques for a rewriting of your ejaculatory reflex, as well as techniques to strengthen your pelvic muscles. Keep in mind: Every finish each man is individual with a distinctive cause of ejaculation problems. Therefore, you would like to read the second part of this eBook (concerning seventy-80 pages) that focuses on each mental, also physical ways that of regaining control over your orgasms carefully. Personal Notes: What I Liked & Disliked ejaculation trainer basic package Benefits     This guide has been several years out there already and has helped thousands of men.     Matt Gorden offers a complex and long-term approach (that worked for him) to solving premature ejaculation once and for all.     All techniques, tips and tricks are clearly explained, and that's why creating an error is almost impossible while following this guide.     With simply a single payment of $49.0zero, this eBook is a lot of cheaper than it is value.     Your purchase is protected by wonderful sixty-day, full-value, cash-back guarantee.     Alpha package with a lot of bonus materials to boost different aspects of your sex life.     Confidential and helpful customer service and suppport. Disadvantages     1st part of this guide is written during a boring vogue (about first forty out of thirteenthree pages long E-book).     Sadly, author, though an professional on delaying ejaculation, is not a doctor.     Beating premature ejaculation with Ejaculation Trainer method can take some time and effort.     This guide is solely offered on-line in a PDF format. No hardcopy or paperback versions. Feedback on Ejaculation Trainer Feedback-on-ejaculation-trainer-ebook Source: Yahoo.com ejaculation-trainer-feedback Source: Yahoo.com Yahoo-answers-on-ejaculation-trainer Source: Yahoo.com Final Verdict: Promising Long-Term Answer for Simply $49.0zero ejaculation trainer rating Guys to be honest, though this product isn't totally good, it is one among the best I actually have found as an extended-term solution for the early ejaculation. Although it's available only online on the official website and your results will take time, with helpful customer service and clearly explained techniques you will beat premature ejaculation. Just twiddling my thumbs and chronic with your coaching and you will see results soon! Believe me that feeling when you recognize that during sex, it will be she who will cum first and not you is price each minute and penny you may invest into this program. Read these posts next to enhance your sexual skills:     9 Ultimate Tips to Last Longer in Bed and Increase Stamina     nine Ways that to Make Sex Last Longer     5 Fabulous Tips to Make Any Woman Squirt Easily     eight OMG Sex Tips That Will Make Her Obsessed with You     nine Types of Female Orgasm You've got to Recognize

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[ohmygodsun]

Ejaculation Trainer Review

The Ejaculation Trainer is another guide that focuses on “fixing” the premature ejaculation issue. But does it very work? Is this product price your cash? Well, I even have bought it and below is my detailed look within this product with benefits, disadvantages, and inside look. Hopefully, you'll find answers to all your queries there. Attention: Before you purchase this program, strive following free methods explained in this article – 9 Ultimate Tips to Last Longer in Bed and Increase Stamina. These will price you nothing! My Personal Experience with Ejaculation Trainer Guys, before I strumbled upon Matt Gorden´s Ejaculation Trainer a few years ago, I was doing analysis on numerous ways in which a way to last longer in bed as I was the therefore-referred to as one-minute man. I actually have spent days while analyzing and attempting different “secure and tested” ways. Sadly, these were either focusing only on temporary fixes or simply on one individual facet of ejaculation problems and were lacking a comprehensive approach. Luckily, after I have seen Ejaculation Trainer, I knew that this was a guide that will work as an extended-term final answer on behalf of me. You will ask: “How did he grasp that?“ Truly, you'll be able to see that this can be not any scam from the first look on its table of contents (see image on top of). This is about thirteen3-pages long document that covers most of the aspects related to fighting early ejaculations. The primary half of this guide (concerning thirty-40 pages) is additional informative and can guide you through what your ejaculatory issue is, and reasons why you're not lasting as long as you actually wish to. These include your genes, heat of a flash throughout sex, higher mental and physical sensitivity, with poor masturbation habits. The remainder of this guide is where its price lies! It explains the foremost effective techniques for regaining control over your ejaculations. While copyright protects this eBook, I will attempt to produce you with a temporary overview of what you may expect:     Mental triggers & management – This was the most helpful part of Ejaculation Trainer on behalf of me. A few years ago, I had never even guessed that the foremost economical manner to stop early ejaculation in my case would be through mental exercises and psychological control.     Eating the proper food – Issues with ejaculation (either premature or delayed) are stricken by numerous hormones in your body like dopamine or serotonin. Luckily, there are not any pills needed – all you have got to try to to is to change your eating habits slightly.     Techniques for regaining control – This guide will specialize in long-term fixes for ejaculation issues such as a specific approach of respiratory, proper means of masturbation, techniques for a rewriting of your ejaculatory reflex, with techniques to strengthen your pelvic muscles. Keep in mind: Every end every man is individual with a distinctive explanation for ejaculation issues. Therefore, you wish to read the second part of this eBook (about 70-80 pages) that focuses on each mental, in addition to physical ways that of regaining control over your orgasms fastidiously. Personal Notes: What I Liked & Disliked ejaculation trainer basic package Advantages     This guide has been several years on the market already and has helped thousands of men.     Matt Gorden offers a advanced and long-term approach (that worked for him) to solving premature ejaculation once and for all.     All techniques, tips and tricks are clearly explained, and that is why creating a slip-up is nearly not possible while following this guide.     With just a single payment of $49.00, this eBook is a lot of cheaper than it's price.     Your purchase is protected by excellent 60-day, full-worth, money-back guarantee.     Alpha package with a heap of bonus materials to boost different aspects of your sex life.     Confidential and useful client service and suppport. Disadvantages     1st half of this guide is written in an exceedingly boring vogue (regarding first 40 out of 133 pages long E-book).     Sadly, author, although an skilled on delaying ejaculation, is not a doctor.     Beating premature ejaculation with Ejaculation Trainer method can take some time and effort.     This guide is solely out there online in a very PDF format. No hardcopy or paperback versions. Feedback on Ejaculation Trainer Feedback-on-ejaculation-trainer-ebook Source: Yahoo.com ejaculation-trainer-feedback Source: Yahoo.com Yahoo-answers-on-ejaculation-trainer Source: Yahoo.com Final Verdict: Promising Long-Term Answer for Simply $49.0zero ejaculation trainer rating Guys to be honest, though this product is not totally good, it's one in every of the best I actually have found as a protracted-term answer for the first ejaculation. Although it's on the market solely online on the official web site and your results will take time, with helpful customer service and clearly explained techniques you will beat premature ejaculation. Just wait and protracted with your training and you may see results soon! Believe me that feeling when you recognize that in sex, it will be she who will cum initial and not you is worth every minute and penny you may invest into this program. Read these posts next to improve your sexual skills:     9 Ultimate Tips to Last Longer in Bed and Increase Stamina     9 Ways to Make Sex Last Longer     five Fabulous Tips to Make Any Woman Squirt Easily     eight OMG Sex Tips That Can Make Her Obsessed with You     9 Types of Female Orgasm You have to Recognize

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trl5LKWBc-M

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