#whereas everything else was great and I thoroughly enjoyed it all

[knockyasocksoff2022]

Some quotes from the actual Edgar Allan Poe that I think really fit BSD Poe.

This is just me rambling so it's all under the cut.

"From childhood's hour, I have not been. As others were, I have not seen. As others saw, I could not awaken. My heart to joy at the same tone. And all I loved, I loved alone."

This would refer to BSD Poe's isolation from being an ability user and a person of great intellect. (I feel like people don't talk about how actually smart he is enough because he's constantly compared to Ranpo. But if he could even challenge Ranpo that means he must be way smarter than the average person, not to mention to create mystery plots that stump most ordinary people.) When he found Ranpo it must have been a relief to find someone like him, who shared his passion for crime mysteries, only to be humiliated by him.

~

“I remained too much inside my head and ended up losing my mind.”

“I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity.”

“I do not suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it.”

“And being so young and dipped in folly, I fell in love with melancholy.”

These remind me of the six-year period he spent obsessing over his rivalry with Ranpo and plotting vengeance.

~

“I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched"

“Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it wants. The way it stops and starts.”

And then of course, these give me Ranpoe vibes.

~

“The believer is happy. The doubter is wise.”

“Science has not yet taught us if  madness is or is not the sublimity of intelligence.”

“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality”

“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

These are just the ones I think fit his general personality. I really like the one about madness being the sublimity of intelligence for him because I feel like many people characterize him as just a really stuttering and shy person (and he is, sometimes, especially around Ranpo) but he's also more than that. He's smart and creative and a lovable dork. I wish there were more Poe-centric fics.

He's very aware of how intelligent he is. And he's proud, maybe even more so since his defeat to Ranpo because he feels being smarter than most people is all he has and that he must cling to that to become superior to Ranpo. He has great confidence in his novels, only worried about what Ranpo thinks of them, not the general readers. (I'm thinking of the scene of him on the roof after Ranpo uses his novel to trap Chuuy in the cannibalism arc.)

Not to mention that, six years ago, he dared to challenge Ranpo, who by that point was already probably well-known for being a genius detective (as the agency had been around for six years by that point). He most likely knew that Ranpo was very smart, though maybe not the full extent of his skills, and was confident he could best him anyway. His defeat thoroughly surprised him, meaning his confidence wasn't based just on arrogance. He actually thought that with his great intelligence, he could beat Ranpo.

Another thing (which mostly stems from my personal interpretations of the characters) is that he and Ranpo have slightly different types of intelligence. Ranpo is skilled in detective work, but not much else (like riding the train or navigating), but Poe I think has more broad intelligence. It makes sense because he has to be very aware of the world and what goes on in it to write convincing stories. 

Both are skilled at reading people (Poe would have to be, to write characters that seem authentic and engaging) but I feel like Poe is more eloquent (he's totally an overthinker), whereas Ranpo just says exactly what he's thinking with no filter, he doesn't bother with fancy words. Ranpo may be able to read everyone in a room and know pretty much everything about them, but he isn't as good at reading the room in the emotional sense, he just says the truth and doesn't care if he upsets people.

So while Ranpo is more skilled at detective work, Poe is a very creative person, who is more socially and emotionally skilled. He's aware of the people and world around him, (despite his being an introvert) not only specific scenarios, like crime scenes. 

He has a galaxy brain that's always thinking of new and increasingly intricate ideas for his novels. But he isn't as skilled in detective work.

Same for Ranpo, for all his skill in crime solving, he would have a hard time writing a novel because he understands how people think logically, and what motivates them to commit crimes, like money, anger, or other criminal motives, but not socially. So he'd have difficulty writing dialogue for characters that weren't exactly like himself or the people he's very close to. (This is based on my reading of Untold Origins, namely his first encounter where he explains to Fukuzawa why he was kicked out of his job and seems not to understand at all why the boss got angry at him for revealing his secrets and kicked him out.)

I love both Ranpo and Poe, and both are very smart, equally so when you compare them in their specific skill sets (Poe is just as skilled at creating new and captivating mystery worlds as Ranpo is at solving crimes). Neither is smarter than the other on the whole, just in specific areas.

My point is I just want to see Poe being shown in fanworks as intelligent as well. Like him helping Louisa with strategy maybe or him being at the agency when they get a job that Ranpo deems boring, and he helps Atsushi solve the case. Maybe one of the guild/ada members reads his book and is really impressed. Or He traps a criminal inside and it takes them days to get out

Oooh, it'd be so cool if someone wrote a fic about one of Poe's victims getting trapped in his novel and slowly going insane trying to escape the complex mystery, one based on their own regrets, just to torment them with guilt, and eventually starving, dehydrating or killing themselves. And imagine it being in the original Edgar Allan Poe style!

Sorry, for my rambling, I hadn’t intended for this to get quite so long. I was so nervous to post this. I'm always nervous about posting my opinions about things.

[weraceasone]

so happy to see you happy at work!! like yeah tell us more abt it!! brag it!! own it!!!

hi sweet anon!! I wanted to wait to answer this ask until I actually had the time to answer it properly 🫶🏼 (and I felt like I also wanted to give an update on my whole uni-dropout-story, because I actually haven't done that in a while so here we go).

first of all, thank you for saying that, that's so nice!! it's funny because I feel like I am most famously known for hating work, like. maybe I sound really lazy or entitled when I say this but if I didn't have to, I just literally would not work, because I just don't like it. that sounds terrible, doesn't it?

however, I feel like I always put so much pressure on myself in the past to get it right somehow anyway; to find something I thoroughly enjoyed, which was also something that earned me good money and felt socially acceptable (as in: I felt pressure to do something that was the highest achievable for someone like me) and that's probably why I felt so stuck when I was still studying. because I did not like it. everything that's like, a really good paying job and a position that people will be impressed by, requires you to work at least 40 hours a week and sit in an office and answer emails in your free time and that's simply everything I hate, because I just don't like working.

now I'm in a situation where I have a job that doesn't require me to do any work after I've finished work because it's kind of difficult to board an airplane from my house and they do send emails but it's literally only weather updates regarding airports in other countries (and I have to admit I haven't read any of them in like two weeks). I work at extremely odd hours but that also gives me so much freedom, like I'll have the whole afternoon off on a random wednesday and for me personally, that works so well because I get overstimulated easily and I feel like in this way I actually have time to calm down and feel okay again before I see friends/start my next shift/anything really. and what makes the waking up at odd times so worth it is simply the bonuses you get, I only have to work around 30 hours to achieve a salary that's comparable to a 40-hour work week. how insane is that!! (also it feels like such an unserious and silly job. I have a friend who works at a bank and that sounds sooo serious and then I'm over here telling people that no, they're not allowed to bring a hamster on an airplane. it's so silly)

and I feel like by dropping out of uni, I also took off the pressure for myself to know everything about how my life should and will be. I just put so much pressure on myself to have it all figured out, and now I just don't know. I have a job that is enjoyable enough for me to stick to it for the foreseeable future, but if I want to do something else in the future I'll just find a way to do that. also, I have completely stopped worrying about what other people think of my job and whether it's is socially acceptable enough or not (none of my friends cared when I dropped out and none of my family cared. so, why should I care what anyone else has to say about it?). this realisation completely solved my anxiety honestly, I haven't felt nauseous for such a long time, whereas before I literally could not eat for months because of my anxiety. for now, I'm just sooo glad everything worked out and I'm earning good money and I can save up and I actually have time to do the things that I want in my free time like I'm so happy with that!! I can't believe I was fighting for my life during that uni course only five months ago, when it feels like a different life now.

this got so long and also made me realize I need to stop and be grateful a little bit more often, so thank you for making me realize that anon!! I hope you are having a great day🧡

[awesomejustgotawesome]

-

[sunfish-studies]

VS Umbrella

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall. This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing.

Previous:  ‹ Illusionary Hero › | Next:  ‹ Cogs ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

A new special move!

The third day of summer training camp and the temperature was still rising. Under the cool shade of the tree upon the hill, you, Shimizu, and Yachi were preparing cool electrolyte drinks for the team. Usually, you three done it in the gym but experiencing how hot the weather was, you three decided brought the bottles uphill so the team could drink immediately in order to avoid dehydration.

“That’s a different type of brand you use, [Name]-chan.” Shimizu commented, seeing a different colored package of electrolyte drink in your hand.

“Oh, Kageyama-kun usually used this particular brand,” you replied, pouring the powder into the bottle and turn the lid close, then you shook the bottle so it would mix thoroughly. Your upperclassman hummed in understanding from your answer.

While it was the third day of training, it’s also marked the three weeks of Kageyama and Hinata not talking to each other even though it didn’t hinder their practice. It worried you a bit, but you knew the two of them would talk eventually.

“Great work,” you said, offering the bottle to Kageyama when he and the rest of the boys arrived uphill. He rasped out a thank you before immediately downing the drink.

“Hinata-kun, this is yours!”

“Thank you!”

You purposely be the one to delivered the bottle straight to the person–Hinata was keeping a quite distance from Kageyama and you didn’t want to force the orange-haired boy to get closer with the raven-haired setter.

“Wuaah, it’s nice and cool,” Hinata sighed in content, placing the bottle upon his cheek–enjoying the coolness radiating from it. After satisfied in cooling down his face, he soon downed the drink. Now that you think, you rarely talk to Hinata these days with him busy with his practice.

“[Name]-san, is your arm okay?” ah, he must be referring to the long cut on your arm.

“It’s already a month, Hinata-kun, it’s healed but it does leave a scar,” you lifted your arm, showing a faint lighter line present on your skin where your wound previously at.

“Oh, sorry,” frowns don’t suit Hinata at all–he’s a bright ball of beaming energy, a warm figure who could lit your day in an instant. It’s his nature, and seeing him becoming dejected from the start of the day was worrying.

“It’s fine, Hinata-kun, it’s not your fault anyway. It was an accident,” you dismissed his apology. “And if you need anything, just call out for me, okay? I’ll do my best to help you.”

You didn’t know what force that made you say those words, but you know you couldn’t take it back–you didn’t intend too anyway. Hinata always worked hard by himself, so you want to support him as much as possible. The orange haired boy looked taken a back before a giving you that infamous wide, sunny grin.

“Okay! And call me Shoyo, then! I call you by your first name so it’s fair if you call me like that too!”

“Alright, then, Shoyo-kun.”

.

.

The temperature was still rising–the burning hot atmosphere exhausted your boys even further than before. It would get rough, both for their body and mind eventually. You could feel your skin prickling–the tension was rising faster than before, tiredness building up, and sooner or later it would get to them.

“Damn it!” you gripped on your hand a little tighter after hearing Hinata’s scream of frustration. He failed to get the ball over the net because he lost in terms of strength with Lev. For the past three days, he couldn’t hit any ball comfortably, and with the battle of height always looming over him he had nothing to fight it with.

The match continued–Nishinoya tossed the ball perfectly, and then Kageyama went up to made a toss. Hinata, noticing there was a chance for a quick immediately jumped. Even though the ball barely being hit, it still got over the net and fell on the opposite court.

“You held back, didn’t you!?” his upperclassmen’s praises went over his head as Hinata yelled in anger at Kageyama.

“Held back?” the raven-haired setter also didn’t like the approach, glaring back menacingly. “Me? With volleyball?”

Thankfully before a fight could break, Takeda-sensei already asked for a time-out–with that, at least the two could cool down for a bit and not causing ruckus on the court in the middle of a match.

“That wasn’t the falling toss!” Hinata’s next words, caught you off guard. He noticed something’s different with the toss? It looked the same to you.

“It wasn’t?” Takeda-sensei questioned.

“I mean, looking back, it technically may not have been.” Coach Ukai answered, a thumb under his chin. “I think what just happened is that the toss right now wasn’t like the falling tosses he’s been getting, but more of a parabola.”

It clicked in your mind–the abrupt change suddenly made sense. “Does that mean Kageyama-kun is trying to get Shoyo-kun to hit the ball no matter what?”

“It’s on purpose?” Yachi turned to look at you.

“But what for?” Shimizu’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Hinata hasn’t hit a spike comfortably for a while now,” Coach Ukai was the one who answered to their question. “That’s pretty stressful for a spiker. Kageyama might have subconsciously been worried that Hinata’s might not play as well because of that.”

You frowned in worry, seeing how Hinata still rooted on his spot despite Tanaka’s attempt to dragged him off the court. And it also worried you that Kageyama was looking utterly dejected–maybe he realized for a moment that he pulled his punches. Thankfully it was only a moment–everything was resolved rather quickly and practice resumed.

.

.

After practice at night, you found yourself helping Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi in the third gym. The owl captain immediately dragged you away as soon as the last practice was over (you swore you could hear Tanaka and Nishinoya’s screams of fury), so here you were, throwing balls to Akaashi so he could toss it to Bokuto. Surprisingly, Tsukishima was present as well–now, he’s learning to block with Kuroo’s guidance.

“Oh? Tsukki, [Name]-chan, did you bring a friend today?” Bokuto suddenly asked, which confused the two of you.

“Pardon?” Tsukishima questioned.

When you threw a look over your shoulder, you immediately took a notice of an extremely familiar figure with orange hair by the door. Calling out, you gave him a smile. “Shoyo-kun!”

“[N-Name]-san!”

“What happened to your partner?” Tsukishima asked.

“Kageyama’s practicing on his own again,” Hinata answered. “I was trying to get Kenma to throw me tosses, but he ran away after the fifth one.”

“It’s amazing that you got Kenma to even give you five during practice,” Kuroo remarked.

“So, please let me practice with you!” another surprised for you because Lev showed up and asking the same thing.

“Lev!”

“Oh, Hinata,” the silver-haired boy then noticed you and immediately waved his hands enthusiastically. “Otohaku-chan!! You’re here too!!”

“Lev, quit flirting with the manager and I thought you were practicing receives with Yaku.” Kuroo said and of course, the mention of Nekoma’s libero, Lev stiffened.

“He said I was doing well today, so he let me go!”

From the looks of it, it was no doubt he ran away while Yaku was having a bathroom break or something else that required him for leaving the gym. But Kuroo, being the lenient and laid-back captain he is, dismissed it.

“Well, whatever,” he sighed. “Then, we have the right number of people, so let’s play three-on-three. [Name], you’re in charge of the score.”

Nodding in understanding, you pushed the score board closer and changed the names above–cats and owl, it reminded you of the two captain’s characteristics. You were fine in looking over the match, but this match was quite ridiculous. Thankfully, you’re not the only to think so.

“Um, isn’t this just a bit unbalanced?” Akaashi questioned. He was in the same team with Bokuto and Hinata, whereas the opposite team was clearly having more advantage in height–Kuroo, Lev, and Tsukishima are all above 185cm. Still with the disadvantage he got, Hinata was excited for sure.

The match was interesting to watch–even with the lack of extra height for Hinata’s team, they were still on par with Tsukishima’s team. But soon it was stopped by Yukie and Kaori’s appearance.

“If you don’t wrap soon, the cafeteria will close and you won’t get any dinner.” Yukie informed. “Oh? [Name]-chan, you’re here too? That explains why you don’t show up for dinner.”

Frustration was clear to Hinata because he clearly enjoyed the match and he didn’t want it to end, however, with Kuroo’s reassurance that they would continue this tomorrow, he was back bouncing on his feet. You couldn’t help but smile at the captain’s attentiveness.

“Thank you for cheering Shoyo-kun up,” you said, as the seven of you walked towards the cafeteria. Yukie and Kaori said they had to handle other things first so they couldn’t accompany you (it was hard for them to let you go with the boys). “Today’s not a good day for him so this match definitely cheers him up.”

“It’s nothing, and we probably have to apologize to you too,” Kuroo remarked. “Bokuto’s dragging you here, you stuck with us, and missed dinner. Bokuto, you have an apology to make!”

“That’s right, Bokuto-san, you made Otohaku-san missed dinner.” Akaashi piped up. “Tomorrow she has to wake up early to prepare breakfast, too.”

As if struck by lightning, Bokuto froze and turned stiffly to look at you before he went on a full apology-mode–as far as dropping on his knees, taking your hands in his, and begging for apology. You laughed nervously, but you knew he was sincere with it.

“I’m sorry, [Name]-chan!! I’ll make it up to you!! Do I need to replace you handling breakfast tomorrow!?”

“N-no, it’s alright, I will be fine and you don’t have to apologize, Bokuto-san. I don’t mind helping you practice.”

“Bokuto-san, you’re making Otohaku-san uncomfortable.”

“Have my back for once, Akaashi!!”

.

.

Now that you think of it, your after-practice time was automatically reserved for the third gym. Bokuto would bound towards you, asking for your help as soon as you’re done with your managerial duties. With your nod, he then reached out for your hand and pulled you to ran towards the third gym.

Akaashi already informed you to just dismissed his captain, but you found yourself couldn’t possibly rejected Bokuto’s invitation–especially when his eyes practically shining, you didn’t have a heart to ruin it. That goes for Daichi also, he even offered to talk to Bokuto about it if it bothers you. You were grateful for the two’s offer, still if you could help, you want to be helpful as possible.

It’s probably the third time you helped them practice by throwing balls and keeping an eye on the score board. Well you did your usual managerial duties as well–refilling the water bottles, giving them towels, sometimes wiping the floor when it became too slippery. Kuroo mentioned that you didn’t have to do it since your work hour was over and him, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Lev weren’t from your team.

Again, you dismissed it–it’s not a heavy duty, anyway. In between water break, Tsukishima asked about why on earth Kuroo wanted to help them when they would end up being rival in the end.

The captain cleared his throat. “I want to make the Battle at the Garbage Dump a reality. It’s what our coach wants more than anything. But who knows how much longer our coach is going to continue coaching? So, because of that, we need you guys to keep winning too.”

Overall, you understood Kuroo’s reason, but there was something that piqued your curiosity.

“Uhm, I know this question might sound strange, but, what is Battle at the Garbage Dump?” you asked.

“Oh, that’s right, we haven’t explained anything to Yachi-san and [Name]-san!” Hinata said.

“To put it simple, it’s like destined match between Karasuno and Nekoma.” Tsukishima explained. “It’s been going since the previous Coach Ukai’s time.”

“Karasuno and Nekoma will climb up until they could go to nationals and then will meet up on the orange court.” Kuroo grinned, reaching up to ruffle your hair lightly.

“That’s… so cool,” you muttered. You couldn’t find the exact words to express the awe you’re feeling. A match in the orange court between destined rivals, it’s almost like straight up from a manga or a movie. Other teams could research but playing against a team that knows you really well is going to be an absolute thrill–probably the best match Karasuno could get.

“Right, right!?” Hinata went up to you and asked excitedly.

“Come on. Let’s get back to practice!” Kuroo informed and all of you immediately went to your assigned place.

Practice went on–still between the Owl and Cat group. When Bokuto had to score against someone tall like Lev and Tsukishima, he didn’t kill the ball instead he hit it purposely against the block–returning it to the team for a more proper toss. Knowing how Hinata was hungry for development, surely he wouldn’t miss this.

After Bokuto managed to kill the ball with an intense straight towards the back line, he instantly approached him to ask about it. Soon, the game continued. This time, it was Lev who went for the score but managed to be soft-blocked by Akaashi. The last ball went to Hinata and you witnessed an absolutely underhanded way of blocking.

“Ah! Hey!” Bokuto screeched, also feeling the unfairness. “You guys are playing dirty!”

Hinata had to face three blockers above 185 cm with not a good toss.

“Nowhere to aim,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes in slight annoyance.

However, Hinata intended to face them–he hit the ball to Lev’s fingertips and it flew over before dropping to the inner-side of the opposite court. He jumped high enough and landed on his back instead.

“Shoyo-kun, you’re amazing!” running and kneeling beside him, you praised. Technically, you’re supposed to check on him but it flew over your mind for a second. “It’s an amazing block-out!”

“Did…you actually aim for that?” Kuroo questioned in disbelief. “That was an amazing wipe!”

“Well, I did aim for Lev’s fingertips.”

“What!?” Lev took a full offense in this.

Still, Bokuto was impressed by the lack of fear the younger had. The owl captain was showering him with praises as the rest of you watched from the sidelines. It went well until Bokuto proposed a ‘special move’–which made almost everyone dropped their beliefs, Hinata seemed to be excited by it though.

[sylvies-chen]

Test Runs

Summary: Matt agrees to help Sylvie babysit a 5-month-old Brian Cruz for the night to help Chloe and Joe out, and gets a glimpse at a life with Sylvie he thought he could only ever dream of.

Words: ~5.5K

Warnings: None?? It’s just pure baby fever and heart eyes and canon-compliant established Brettsey

Tagging: @fighterkimburgess Cíara, this one’s for you. I hope you enjoy your much anticipated gift— and some very long, plot-less tooth rotting fluff :)

A/N: I don't know what this is and I'm pretty sure I zoned out while writing this so let me know what you think of this because this is the least edited thing I've ever written lol

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

Matt’s in the locker room at the end of a tiringly long shift when he hears Sylvie’s voice coming from behind him.

Their shift has been filled with an endless amount of intense calls. House fires, a harrowing ambo call according to Sylvie, car crashes galore. He’s more than ready to go home and enjoy his next few days off. He and Sylvie had even agreed to make tonight a date night, staying in with a bottle of wine and watching a movie (or, in their case, not watching a movie). It makes him even happier to be done with this shift. Just a regular, normal, peaceful night.

That’s what it’s supposed to be, at least. Only he hears his girlfriend’s voice and, instead of its usual soothing effect on him, is filled with something tense and nervous. He turns around and lo and behold, Sylvie’s standing in front of him with a perpetual wince.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“I may or may not have told Joe and Chloe I’d babysit Brian for them tonight,” she explains nervously, her palms stretched out flat against each other. “Which means I’m going to have to take a raincheck on that date night we’d planned.”

Matt instantly finds it hilarious that she’d been so worried to tell him about it. “Sylvie, it’s fine,” he assures her. “Date night can be any night, we’ll just postpone it for another day.”

“Really? You’re not bummed out?” “I’m extremely bummed out,” he corrects her, his hands flying to her arms and rubbing circles on them gently with his thumbs. “But I’m not mad. I just wanted to spend time with you after a long shift, that’s all.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m sorry. Joe just kept going on and on about how he and Chloe haven’t had a minute to themselves since the baby was born and I just remember thinking how, if that were you and I, it’d make me really sad not getting to have a night off with you.”

Matt swears his heart melts right then and there. Sylvie’s compassion is pretty much endless but when she mixes it with that adorably longing look in her eye, and with words like that? Yeah, Matt’s a total goner.

Things between him and Sylvie have been going so great. They’re going on six months and not a single day goes by where he doesn’t feel like the happiest guy in the world. He knows tonight is one of their only nights off between shifts and he’d prefer not to have to share her quite yet during those nights but Joe and Chloe are their friends, Sylvie was right to offer them a kind gesture.

So an idea forms.

Matt’s always been good with kids, he’ll never complain at getting the chance to look after one. Especially not when it’s with the woman he loves. Besides, he sort of loves the idea of spending the night watching Sylvie gush over Brian Cruz. She was sort of adorable with Amelia, he can only assume it will be the same with Brian.

So much for a normal, peaceful night. (Although frankly, Matt thinks normal is overrated.)

“What if I came with you?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “What if I looked after him with you? I’m sure Joe and Chloe wouldn’t mind, I’d be more than willing to give you an extra set of hands.”

She gives him a puzzled, slightly skeptical look. “So you mean to tell me,” she starts, “that you want to spend one of your few nights off in between shifts babysitting a screaming, crying, spitting five-month-old baby, just… because I am?”

“That’s sort of the idea, yeah,” he chuckles. “I’m good with kids, I can handle a little spit-up. Besides, I’ll take any time I can get with you.”

Ok. So maybe that was a little cheesy. It still rings true nonetheless. Spending time with her in any capacity is good enough for him-- and he has a feeling this will be a lot of fun.

She seems to think the same thing too, and smiles sweetly at him. “How did I get so lucky?”

“You just are,” he shrugs amusedly and leans in to kiss her soundly, sinking into it for a minute before he realizes he shouldn’t get carried away when they’re in the locker room. He’ll save the PDA for Stella and Severide. When he pulls away, she moves to pick up her bag and shut her locker, the two of them ready to leave. “So I’ll pick you up then? What time did they want you there?”

“5:00. But I should warn you,” Sylvie warns teasingly with a pointed index finger. “I will be singing a lot of Wiggles songs. It will not be sexy.”

He lets out a chuckle from deep in his chest and Sylvie returns the laugh as she heads out of the locker room and to her car. Even when she’s gone, Matt can still feel himself smiling like an idiot.

Like he said: Sylvie Brett makes him feel like the happiest guy in the world.

“Hey. You’re in a good mood.” Matt’s about to get his own bag and leave when he turns around to see Severide coming into the locker room.

“Yeah, well, I’m on babysitting duty tonight,” he explains. “With Sylvie. Joe and Chloe needed some time off so she volunteered and I thought I’d tag along.”

“Uh-oh,” Kelly teases. “I sense a little baby fever coming on.”

“What? No, Sylvie’s not baby-crazy, it’s not like that.”

“I’m not talking about her,” Severide explains. “I’m talking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. You’re a sucker for kids, man. You’ve wanted them for as long as I’ve known you. You’re going to have that little pipe dream back in your head by the end of the night, I’m telling you,” he warns, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I’ll be fine,” Matt grumbles in response. “I think I can handle one night of babysitting. Besides, we’re just helping Cruz. Kids are something for down the line. Way down the line.”

“So you have thought about it,” Kelly replies victoriously, raising a single, cocky eyebrow.

“What about you and Kidd, huh?” Matt knows deflecting won’t work forever, but he’s not ready to admit to himself that he has thought about it, nevermind Severide. So switching the subject back onto his best friend seems like the safe option. “You’re the ones who are married now. You two haven’t thought about having kids?”

Kelly bites his tongue, blushes slightly. It’s a rare occurrence for him, but one reserved uniquely for all matters related to Stella. “Maybe,” Severide shrugs. “But we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” Matt huffs, picking up his bag and shutting his own locker. “I can handle myself. I was just giving you a heads up in case you wondered why I wasn’t at the loft. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Matt heads out after that making a beeline for his truck before anyone else can question him about this.

Severide doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He and Sylvie are enjoying their time together right now, taking things at their own pace. Matt’s not about to ruin that for some fantasy he had that’s slowly dissipated. After all, what’s the point in wanting kids if you don’t have someone you want to have them with? After Gabby, he’d given up on that until what was once a pipe dream became something completely irrelevant and blurry in the back of his mind. Besides, six months of dating is a little soon to be thinking about that. There’s about a million steps they have to go through first, a million milestones before kids would be in the question. So yeah. He and Sylvie are not in any rush. For now, Matt is perfectly happy to be able to wake up to her for as many mornings as he can. Just him and her. That’s always going to be enough for him, no matter what. His small fantasies are a thing of the past.

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he drives home to the loft and gets ready to pick Sylvie up. He repeats it over and over until eventually, it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.

********

When Sylvie hops into his truck, she’s wearing jeans and an old graphic t-shirt. She figures it’s best to wear something she won’t mind dirtying a little. She explains this to Matt when they’re in his truck and he nods thoughtfully at her smart thinking. He even leans over to kiss her on the cheek while waiting for one of the traffic lights to turn red. Only then does it truly register in Sylvie’s head about what they’re doing tonight.

They’re really, truly, spending an entire night together with their friend’s adorable baby.

She really hadn’t expected Matt to offer his help tonight. She doesn’t need the help-- Sylvie knows her way around a five-month-old, after all-- but he’d offered it anyway which somehow makes it even sweeter. Joe and Chloe had been more than okay with it. There’s no one more decent and reliable than Matt Casey, after all. Together, Brian Cruz is guaranteed to spend the whole night being showered with love. She’s sure of that, so she’d obviously been thrilled to have him tag along for babysitting. Until the weight of it all sinks in, that is.

Things between them have been going so great. It’d taken them longer than she’d hoped to sort out their feelings but it’d made the release all the more satisfying. They’re here now, together. And even though they’re only six months into this relationship, she knows that she’s never backing out. This is it; for both of them. It adds an extra layer to her happiness, knowing that everything she does with him will be her last firsts. It’s wonderful and beautiful in all the best ways. They’re still fairly early on in their relationship though. She doesn’t have an exact plan for the future-- it’s the only thing she can’t plan out thoroughly, unfortunately-- but she knows six months is still fresh in the grand scheme of things. And whereas she thinks a kid or two might be nice, it’s still too early to have a conversation that’s that detailed with him. Up until now, she’d been perfectly fine avoiding that talk. Now though, it’s going to be the big, plus elephant in the room. They’re getting a glimpse at what it would be like to have a kid together. It seems silly, but she’s almost scared to let her mind wander.

She goes over it in her head quietly in the car. It’s not a big deal, she reminds herself. They’ll just look after Brian, have some fun, and put him to bed at a reasonable hour. And most importantly, under no circumstances will daydreaming about their future be allowed. Ever.

They reach Joe and Chloe’s house and Matt takes her hands as they reach the front door. She’s been quiet the rest of the car ride, ever since he kissed her on the cheek. She’d gotten so preoccupied reminding herself not to get ahead of herself tonight that it’d picked up his attention, but she gives his hand a gentle squeeze as they wait for Joe and Chloe to answer the door and he smiles, thinking nothing of her quiet mood.

“Hey,” Joe greets them when the front door finally opens. His face is beaming, and it really dawns on Sylvie how excited he must be for tonight. He and Chloe haven’t been out of the house for weeks, never spending more than five minutes alone without baby Brian Cruz. “Come on in.”

Sylvie flashes a friendly smile and lets go of Matt’s hand to step inside, looking around the place. Chloe’s putting her earrings on in the mirror, preparing the finishing touches of her date night outfit. Which, in Sylvie’s opinion, is gorgeous. Saying her friend looks amazing is almost an understatement. “Don’t you look fancy,” Sylvie teases from behind Chloe. “Sylvie! We’re so glad you two were able to make it,” Chloe cheers, leaning in to give Sylvie a tender hug and then doing the same for Matt. “Thank you so much for this. We owe you one.” “Don’t worry about it,” she hears Matt speak. “I think we’re both just happy to lend a helping hand, right?”

He looks to Sylvie with raised eyebrows, and she nods in agreement. “Yes, we really are. You two seriously deserve some time off.”

“You’re right about that,” Joe nods. “I thought being a firefighter would mess with my sleep schedule but it’s nothing compared to this kid.”

“Where is Brian anyway?” She asks.

“He’s in his crib right now, hang on,” Chloe tells her, stepping into the room next to them and pulling Brian out of his crib. The little boy sits perfectly against his mother’s chest, his feet dangling slightly. He’s wearing a onesie too, the light blue fabric covered with little robots. It’s quite possibly the cutest thing Sylvie’s ever seen and she has to fight back the urge to coo at him.

“Say hi to Auntie Sylvie and Uncle Matt, sweet cheeks!” Chloe coos to her son, grabbing his tiny hand and waving it at Sylvie and Matt for him. He can’t talk yet but he flashes a smile at them and it melts Sylvie’s heart. Man. Tonight is going to be amazing and yet so tough to get through. “So there’s fresh formula in the fridge but we just fed him so he should be fine for the night. His toys are all laid out on the floor if he needs tummy time and we normally put him to bed at 7:00. If there’s anything you guys need or any questions, just call us. We’re bringing our phones with us and the number for the pediatrician is on the counter just in case,” Joe explains to them.

“Got it,” Sylvie nods.

“Ok,” Chloe nods to herself, handing Brian over to Sylvie. The small boy fits just as nicely against Sylvie’s chest but he tries to turn his head as soon as she holds him, urgently looking for his mom. Chloe stands back, staring at Brian nervously. “I gotta go now, buddy. I’ll see you later.”

“It’s harder than you expected, isn’t it?” Sylvie asks her, already well aware of the answer. Leaving your kid with a sitter is tough, she imagines, especially when it’s your first kid.

“Yes,” Chloe admits, slightly pained. “I know it’s only a few hours but we’re going to miss him.”

“We’ll take good care of him, we promise,” Matt assures them, already moving closer to Sylvie to see Brian and let his tiny hand wrap around his thumb. “Thanks again you guys,” Joe nods appreciatively.

“Of course, anytime. Now go on, have fun, you crazy kids,” Sylvie teases.

“Alright, bye!” Chloe keeps waving until their front door is fully shut, leaving Matt and Sylvie in total silence.

Matt glances at Sylvie up and down, taking in the sight of her with baby Brian, and something in his eye lights up. It sends a warm tingling down Sylvie’s spine, but he just nods at her. “He really is a cute baby.”

“I know,” she raves instantly. “Look at how small his little hands are!”

“You’re just so tiny, aren’t you, little buddy?” Matt talks to Brian, wiggling his hand.

Brian giggles, his arms wiggling amusedly at Matt’s gesture. He looks over at the front door though, waits expectantly for Chloe and Joe to come back in. A few seconds pass where Matt and Sylvie watch as Brian stares at the door. It’s almost as if everything that happens next happens in slow motion. They watch as his face turns back to Sylvie, his twinkling eyes turning sad as his face sours. The wail comes next, matched with flailing arms as Sylvie feels his body shaking in her arms.

He’s not hungry, Joe said he and Chloe just fed him. And he can’t be tired since they haven’t done anything with him yet. So really, he just misses his parents. It’s not all that abnormal for a kid his age but it still hurts Sylvie’s heart, watching this little guy wail in her arms.

“Oh no,” she blurts out, slightly panicked. “Shh, it’s okay! We’re right here. I know you miss your mommy and daddy but they’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He continues to wail, sticking his hand out and wiggling to try and get to the front door. “Who am I kidding, you don’t understand what that means,” she mumbles under her breath, beginning to bounce him.

His wailing isn’t as shrill after the bouncing starts but he’s still crying at a volume comparable to 61’s sirens. She tries her best to calm him down but it seems unsuccessful. Dammit. Sylvie and Matt aren’t five minutes into this night and Brian’s already crying.

The reminder that Matt’s there is enough to snap her out of it. Only she turns to where he was not five seconds ago and he’s gone. “Matt?”

“I’m in here, just a second,” he calls from the family room. Sylvie moves down the hallway away from the entrance to find him. When she does, he’s hovering over a small, wooden chest and rifling through it. Brian’s still crying as she pats his back and offers soothing hushes.

“I think we just broke Cruz and Chloe’s baby,” Sylvie tries teasing, her face still making a worried wince. “Shh, it’s okay Brian. You’re okay, it’s okay.” Matt grabs something out of the chest, moving to close the space between him, Sylvie and Brian. “Here,” he tells her, revealing the little, plush blue and green robot in his hand. “I figured a toy might distract him.”

“Right, good idea,” she nods, turning to meet baby Brian’s eye again as he grabs a fistful of her hair. “Uncle Matt has some of your toys, you want to play with them?”

Sylvie turns him so he can see Matt, who extends the soft plush robot and wiggles it playfully.

“I bet you like that one, huh? He even matches your pyjamas,” Matt points out.

Brian instantly becomes mesmerized with the toy, his eyes sparkling as they follow it’s trail as it moves in the air. His cheeks are still glossy with tears but he sticks out a hand to clumsily grab at the toy. The shift from upset beyond consolation to pure fascination with something so simple as a toy robot is enough to astound Sylvie-- and, admittedly, send relief washing through her body.

As soon as her shoulders relax, she feels Brian relax in her arms too. He even smiles as she wipes his cheeks clean of the tears, pointing towards the toy and cooing incoherently. Matt keeps wiggling the toy and bobbing his head along with the toy, eventually handing it to Brian and letting him play with it on his own. He squishes the robot’s rectangular head, then mimics Matt’s movements with it and moves it around in the air. Sylvie watches in happy surprise. She’s about to move her head to send a bewildered yet appreciative look at Matt but when her eyes look up, he’s already looking at her. There’s a slight twinkle in his eye, similar to the one Brian had when he saw the robot. It’s nothing but pure wonder, and her heart skips a beat.

Up until now, she’d been trying to keep herself from getting ahead of herself. Apart from the logical reasons of it being really early and soon on in their relationship, Sylvie also just doesn’t want to freak him out with baby fever. But he’s staring at her as she coddles Brian, a smile dancing over his face, and it seems pointless.

Maybe she’s not the only one picturing them doing this with a kid of their own.

Maybe, he’s just as much of a daydreamer as she is.

********

Matt’s not trying to give himself away too much. He swears he isn’t.

But damn. If Sylvie with this little Cruz baby isn’t the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, he doesn’t know what is. It’s been an hour since they arrived at the Cruz residence. An hour since they’d walked in and immediately had to deal with a screaming, crying baby Brian. Thankfully, they mellow out pretty quickly after that. Matt and Sylvie pull out as many toys as they can and try to distract him. His tears dissipate as they play around, keeping the young child preoccupied.

Sylvie, as promised, even starts dancing and singing Wiggles songs. Matt started out singing and dancing with her but Brian had tried crawling away while they were both up so he’s now sitting next to Brian, who’s on his stomach on his mat in the family room propping himself up to watch the show as Sylvie keeps dancing and singing.

“The Big Red Car rolls along the street

And to all the people that we meet, we like to say hello

Say hello! To the people that we meet!”

Sylvie sings, spins around, and does comically dramatic gestures as Matt claps along with Brian, making a few sound effects himself to help out with the number. The songs are too catchy not to sing along, so he does. That just seems to make the baby giggle even more, and he tries crawling over closer towards Sylvie.

She finishes the song and does small but amusing jazz hands, practically out of breath. “That was exhausting,” she exhales heavily. “How’s that for entertainment, little guy?”

He coos and waves his arms around in the air, trying to cheer for her. Matt chuckles and claps along himself, keeping an expectant eye on Brian.

The baby keeps wagging his arms though, and when they realize he’s asking for an encore Sylvie leans over with her hands on her knees in exhaustion. “You want more of this?” She addresses Brian, not expecting a response. “We’ve been at this for nearly an hour, I’m getting more of a workout from this than from Foster’s infamous spin classes. How is he not more exhausted?”

“Different sleep schedule, I guess,” Matt shrugs. “Don’t worry, you can tap out and I’ll take over.”

“More romantic words have never been spoken,” she replies teasingly with a relieved groan. She wipes at her brow and moves to find space on the mat but instead of the encore, Brian turns to her.

“Oh,” Matt says. “Looks like he doesn’t want more singing and dancing after all.”

The young boy starts reaching for Sylvie’s hair, grasping at the blonde strands that fall just above her shoulders. He manages to find a fistful but Sylvie pulls him in closer so he can grab her hair without yanking it. “I think he likes you,” Matt points out with a grin. “Good, my plan is working,” she teases, resting her head ever so lightly on Brian’s head. “I’m hoping to work my way up to his favourite aunt by the time he’s two. I’m going to be your favourite, aren’t I, little man?”

Brian coos in her lap, smiling wide at Sylvie. But he looks over at Matt and reaches out from Sylvie’s hold to grab at Matt’s hand too. Matt’s heart melts.

“He seems to like you too,” Sylvie adds.

“Yeah, I’ve never met a baby with so much trust in people,” Matt replies. “And so many robot toys too. What’s up with that?” He gestures at the spread of robot toys they arranged in a row on Brian’s mat.

“I think Joe was hoping he’d get him interested in tech stuff like Otis was,” Sylvie explains, a wistful sigh falling over her. Matt gets serious too-- not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of their dear, fallen friend. Thinking of where Brian Cruz gets his name from is always a sharp reminder of Otis, and this new piece of information doesn’t make it any better.

Matt throws Sylvie a sympathetic look, which is returned. There’s nothing much to say to that, nothing but to let there be a gentle and solemn moment of silence as Brian wiggles in Sylvie’s criss-crossed legs on the floor.

The silence is broken when he crawls out of Sylvie’s lap, slowly finding his way to Matt. Somehow, some way, he can sense Matt’s heavy heart and reaches to grab his hand. Brian doesn’t try to lift it, just puts one hand around Matt’s thumb and one around his pinky. He looks up at Matt, his eyes twinkling energetically.

“I bet your mom and dad tell you all sorts of stories about Uncle Otis, don’t they?” Matt asks as he lifts Brian into the air. He giggles, waving his arms and toes in his little onesie. Matt knows the kid can’t talk yet but he takes that as a yes. When Matt brings him back down from the air, he presses a kiss to the kid’s forehead and pulls back with the small smack of his lips. It makes Brian laugh even more.

Man. He really is a cute kid. Maybe Severide was right, maybe Matt’s already feeling that little pipe dream of his coming back. Because he’s sitting there with this tiny little kid in his arms, having the time of his life as Sylvie watches them amusedly, and it feels like he’s getting a glimpse at their future. The idea of a family, one with someone he loves as much as Sylvie, feels so right. It’s enough to send a warm and electric feeling throughout his body.

“This is fun,” Matt admits to her, meeting her eye with a hesitant but hopeful gaze.

Sylvie pulls her lip in between her teeth, fighting a smile. “Yeah, it is,” she nods. “It’s nice, I’m glad you offered to tag along. It’s like a little test run.”

“Test run?” Her eyes widen slightly and her cheeks heat up ever so slightly, to the point where Matt thinks he imagined it for a second. “I-- I mean, for babysitting,” she backtracks, shaking her head. “You know, if Joe and Chloe decide somewhere down the line that they need more nights out.”

Matt’s heart skips a beat.

Sylvie’s a terrible liar. She knows it, he knows it, all of 51 knows it. He can tell when she’s fibbing. She gets all flustered, fumbles her words just like she is now. Only now, he can see right through it and it excites him beyond comparison. He can see it in her eyes: she’s been thinking about kids just as much as he has.

“Right,” Matt chuckles lightly, going along with it. “For babysitting.”

She knows he can see right through him and sucks in a sharp breath. She looks more hesitant than he does now. “I don’t know, a kid or two might be nice somewhere down the line,” she admits nervously. “Right?”

“It would,” he replies softly with a smile. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it once or twice tonight.”

“Really?” When Matt nods, she smiles and her shoulders relax.

“Well Severide said I should probably keep that to myself but I don’t care.”

“I don’t want you to keep it to yourself,” she tells him firmly but kindly. “You, Matt Casey, are always allowed to share what you see in our future with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods happily. “I guess this test run isn’t so bad then, is it? If we’re on the same page about things.”

“No, it isn’t.” Her eyes light up and it’s all the confirmation Matt needs that he’s not alone in his baby fever. Their eyes stay fixed on each other, a soft and exciting tension washing over them.

The moment, however, is interrupted by Brian. He’s still in Matt’s arms but Matt suddenly hears what is probably the quietest, cutest yawn he’s ever heard come from Brian’s mouth.

“It’s getting late,” Sylvie realizes.

“Yeah, his bedtime was…” Matt checks the clock and his eyebrows immediately shoot up. “Twenty minutes ago?”

Sylvie looks at the baby in Matt’s arms, surprised. “You really had a lot of energy tonight, didn’t you? You were dancing past your bedtime, little buddy!” “Well I don’t blame him, your performance was very entertaining,” Matt muses. “Maybe a little too good,” she realizes with a giggle. “Come on, let's put him in the crib.”

“Aw come on,” Matt pleads. “Just a few more minutes? I don’t think he wants to move.”

“You are a bad influence, Matt Casey.” Sylvie shakes her head amusedly. She soaks in the sight though and can’t resist. Brian is draped over Matt's chest, his head now resting on his shoulder as his eyes flutter tiredly. Matt’s hand covers the little boy’s entire back, rubbing circles on it gently as he stabilizes the boy. Sylvie bites her lip for the second time that night and Matt knows she’s going to concede. “He does seem to be comfortable there though,” she counters reluctantly.

“Very comfortable,” he corrects her. What can he say? He just wants to sit in this little fantasy of his for a little longer. He so rarely lets himself hope like this that it feels almost necessary to extend this for as long as possible. Besides, Brian Cruz is adorable, it’d be crazy if he didn’t think of a kid of his own-- at least a little-- while he’s here. “I, however, am not.”

“Well here, come up to the couch. That’ll be more comfortable for the both of you,” she tells him, her voice now hushed and soothing so as to calm Brian down and not interrupt his process of slowly falling asleep.

Matt carefully gets up and shifts onto the couch, Brian still in his arms. He leans back and lets Brian sprawl out against his chest. The boy is light, no more than 15 pounds, but it’s still enough to put a light pressure on Matt’s chest.

He doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s the opposite. He loves it.

Sylvie stands up too, clearing the toys off the floor as Matt watches Brian’s breathing, the rise and fall of the small boy’s chest against his. It’s weirdly soothing and he soon feels his breathing match Brian’s, his eyes fighting to stay open. The singing and dancing and playing around really took the energy out of both of them.

When she’s done, she looks down at the two fatigued boys, smiling gently at the sight before curling up next to Matt on the couch. She holds Brian’s hand with her index and her thumb, and runs a soft hand over his head, before Matt’s arm wraps around her shoulder and she tucks her head in the nape of his neck.

“That’s better,” Matt beams, a tired smile on his face. He moves to press a kiss to Sylvie’s forehead.

“Much better,” she agrees quietly. “But we shouldn’t stay like this forever. He’ll need to go to his crib soon.”

“We’ll put him there soon,” he tells her. “Just five more minutes, babe…”

********

Wake up.

She feels those words ring through her body like an alarm. It sends the lights in her brain slowly turning back on as she eases into consciousness.

The first thing she sees, just barely and surrounded by a tired blur in her vision, is Matt. Brian’s still on his chest, both of them sleeping soundly. She smiles to herself, noting how peaceful her boyfriend looks in this position. Everything feels so warm. She’s cuddled up next to him, he’s lying with the baby. It all seems so picture perfect. She revels in it, if only for a moment.

She looks up and realizes it’s been twenty minutes since they’d fallen asleep— and Matt had promised only five. For a minute, she considers waking him up and telling him to bring Brian to his crib. She decides against it though, choosing instead to cuddle back into him and relax.

Joe and Chloe are going to be back any minute now. But she’ll be damned if she doesn’t soak every minute of this moment in. Before they’d figured things out and gotten together, Sylvie had scarcely allowed herself to feel things for him, nevermind daydream about the life they could have. But she looks at them, sees how truly good and comfortable Matt is with Brian, and can’t stop now. It’s addicting, dreaming about her future with Matt Casey. She intends to chase that feeling like it’s her only fix, especially since now she knows he’s thought about it too. Her dreams are his; theirs.

To Sylvie, that makes for a pretty good test run.

She falls back into Matt’s embrace, the three of them dozing off. They don’t wake up again until Joe and Chloe come back.

It’s the first night Brian Cruz gets a full night’s worth of sleep.

[eyayah-oya]

Are you taking request if so can you do a tup Wooley and Comet one where someone is flirting with tup and he oblivious to it while Comet and Wooley are slowly getting jealous and possessive and it leads to Comet and Wooely showing the person that Tup is theirs only??????

Thank you so much for this request!!! I am absolutely taking requests, and I'm so glad you asked for these three.

I adore Tup/Wooley/Comet and I'm glad that they're gaining more momentum! They're absolutely delightful to write, and I hope you enjoy this one-shot, Fay!

(yes the retail worker doesn't really get a name mainly because Comet is being petty and doesn't care enough to remember)

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

It was a novelty to have credits to be able to spend. So was the idea that all of the clones were now officially citizens of the United Galactic Republic. But above everything else, the thing Comet still couldn’t get used to was the way other beings actually respected them. There was a shift in attitude almost overnight after they were given their rights and citizenship by the Elected Board of Governors that now presided over the Senate instead of a Chancellor.

It was rare to need to add a name to their Remembrances when a brother was murdered, whereas before, there were multiple deaths a day due to civilian antagonism. They were allowed to shop wherever they wanted, and they no longer had to hurry through dark streets with their friends, praying that they wouldn’t be spotted. It still startled Comet when someone addressed him or showed him any kindness.

Which was probably why Tup hadn’t realized that the sales associate had been flirting with him for the last half hour as he tried on various clothes that caught his eye. She had been getting more and more blatant the longer Tup ignored her, and Comet was getting a little annoyed at the whole thing. Wooley had wandered over to the scarves ten minutes ago, looking over the thin, soft material that came in all shades of color, but Comet kept closer to Tup, just in case.

“You should try these pants on next. They’re all the rage and I just know they’ll look fantastic on you. Also, easy to put on or take off in a hurry,” the associate said with a wink.

Comet very carefully didn’t tense or growl, but he desperately wanted to. Or maybe walk up and kiss Tup until the associate—Sari or Sani or Sahi or something like that—got the message that Tup wasn’t looking for another partner.

“What do you think, Comet?” Tup asked, holding up the glittering gold pants and frowning slightly. “I feel like these are something Commander Ponds would like to wear.”

“Gold is considered very fashionable right now,” Sati said. Or maybe it was Tasi. “Especially with some of you clones walking around with golden tattoos. Everyone wants gold now.”

“They do match Wooley’s tattoos,” Comet mused. “He’d definitely look fantastic in them, but I don’t think gold is really your color. Unless it’s Wooley that puts it on you.”

Tup considered his reflection for another second and nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I don’t think I could pull off gold like I can blue. Or maybe pink.”

Comet grinned at the memory of the last time Tup had worn pink. Someone had protested how bright the color was and ended up with a bucket of paint the exact same shade poured over their head. “Do you think Senator Amidala would wear a matching pair with you if you asked?” Comet suggested.

“Oh, definitely. I’m her favorite babysitter besides Rex and Kix, and I know she loves all the fun clothes I find. She’s the one that gave me this shirt, you know.” Tup plucked at the wide-necked blouse that bared his shoulders and had sleeves down to his wrist. It was a really pretty purple color, closer to Marine red than actual purple. And it looked fantastic on him.

“Senator Amidala has fantastic taste in clothing. For the most part. I still don’t understand why she wears those enormous dresses, especially when she’s the target of so many assassination attempts.”

Wooley appeared at Comet’s side, a bag of scarves and what appeared to be earrings and some lipstick on his arm. He’d apparently already bought his finds. “It’s all the weapons,” he said, digging out a lipstick that was a bright metallic gold. “Naboo is well known for their cloak and dagger politics, though I hear the current Queen and Senator Amidala are trying to change that. The Senator has at least two blaster and I don’t even know how many blades hidden in those dresses and hairstyles. I would not want to try to assassinate her.”

Tani cleared her throat. “Umm, right, so the gold pants are a no then?”

“Do you want them, Wooley?” Comet asked.

He tilted his head and squinted at the skin-tight pants for a second. “Nah, I already found some gold things I think you will both enjoy later tonight.” He applied the gold lipstick and rolled his lips together, spreading the color. “How do I look?”

Comet grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. They stayed there for several seconds, and Comet thoroughly enjoyed the slick feeling of the lipstick, even though he knew he was spreading it everywhere on both himself and Wooley. A small price to pay, especially with how gorgeous Wooley looked.

“I’ll take that as “I like it”,” Wooley giggled. He wiped some of the smeared lipstick off of his upper lip and winked at Tup. “It’s flavored. You can have a taste once you figure out what clothes you want to buy.”

Tup grinned. “I’m holding you to that, cyare.”

Comet couldn’t help his feral grin from taking over as he watched Tazi wilt. It seemed like she finally figured out that Tup was not available. He already had partners, and none of them were looking for another beyond the occasional play time with other vod’e.

“If Wooley won’t give you a kiss right now, I can share,” Comet suggested.

“You do have half of his lipstick on you right now,” Tup laughed. “Alright. But you have to tell me if I should go with the black skinny jeans or the white ones.”

“Why not both? I know someone who can make one pair into hotpants,” Comet said just before Tup’s lips connected with his. Comet tangled his fingers into Tup’s hair as Wooley laughed at the sudden flush on Tup’s face and the disappointed huff from Zasi (or whatever her name was).

Peace was nice if it meant Comet could spend an afternoon with his partners, shopping and buying new things that they could actually own. Besides, Tup’s ass looked great in those black skinny jeans.

[jigenshat]

I think if you gave Goemon a monster energy he'd be energized enough to take out an army of men and then have a sugar crash and wake up at 9 pm the next day

Lupin probably loves monster energy because his adhd brain violently bounces around in his skull and it allows him to get ALOT of work done in one sitting

Jigen thinks monster energy is ok but doesn't really prefer it over just coffee, honestly he doesn't seem like the type to run off of monster as much as Lupin does..

This circles back sorta to some food hcs I have, like Jigen being a sort of Salty, spicy, tangy sorta guy. He also really likes bitter for some reason, but when it comes to sweetness he enjoys chocolate quite a bit. Lupin most likely really likes Tangy, Sweet, Sour stuff the most. He can tolerate when things are bitter, but not too bitter, and he definitely doesn't enjoy it on it's own like Jegin does. I can assume he doesn't handle spice too well either. Goemon isn't too picky with flavor except for absolutely hating whatever is bitter and loving anything sweet. His top flavors are Sweet, Savory, and Spicy, with everything else being on "Pleasurable" to "Absolutely horrid" scale. The 3 of them usually have small debates over which flavor is best, as they do with just about anything food related, but Lupin gets teamed up on quite alot by Jigen and Goemon on the topic of spice, whereas Jigen and Lupin team up on Goemon to bully him about not being able to stand things that are even slightly bitter.

Bonus hc! The entire group is good with their hands, because of their occupation they probably have the most controlled hands ever. Even though Lupin's hands shake on their own, when he's concentrated they steady out quite a bit, and has a very scary grip, as do the rest of them! Jigen's hand is very steady normally, though his hands shake only when he's trying to he careful with things strangely, it's usually just because he's slightly overthinking or being rushed, but it doesn't get in the way of things. Goemon's hands are the most steady out of the 3 of them, but that was sorta obvious. He has alot of control over his hands and has trained every part of his body. It's sorta scary how still they can be, it's not surprising that they can play dead. Yea this entire paragraph of text was just a transition into me saying that they are capable of doing pen tricks. Lupin fidgets alot w pens, coins, anything that can be flipped between his fingers, as does Jigen. Goemon isn't really the type to do this, but he can. He usually just fidgets with his clothes and hair.

Sorry about dumping another textbook of info into ur ask box,,, these ideas have been floating around in my head for a while

i admire your dedication to thinking about this so thoroughly. i also enjoy thinking about tiny details that maybe aren't so important but really flesh them out as individuals.

yes, please no one give goemon monster. he would cause enough damage to start a world war and then pass out for the war's duration. no caffeine for him ! please ! lupin doesn't need caffeine but is convinced he does. he feels great on it and monster gives him way too much in a way too short amount of time. it's too sweet for jigen. he also doesn't like that it's carbonated so he can't drink it as frequently as lupin. he'll leave half cans lying around and lupin is more than happy to finish them off.

seeing them all eat together is always fun. there's always a disagreement. for no reason. they just like arguing and bickering among themselves. we really rarely see them all sit down to eat the same thing and this is probably why. lupin is definitely not a spice guy. he doesn't handle extreme heat in temperature well and he's the same with spiciness. he'll run to down as much milk as he can if anything even teeters over his typical spice tolerance. goemon likes sweet in a savoury setting (if that makes sense ??) like teriyaki sauce for example. it has the base of the saltiness and umami from the soy sauce, the sharpness from the sake and mirin, and the sweet top notes from sugar. he will quickly make up a similar sauce if he needs to eat something he's not too fond of to dull the unpleasant flavour a bit.

back to caffeine, jigen resents lupin for not drinking his tar black coffee. lupin always wants coffee but isn't prepared to drink whatever biiter brew jigen has going. he always has to go out to get coffee. its all way too fancy and modern for jigen. milk ?? sugar ?? over his dead body. it's pitch black or nothing.

all the boys are definitely huge fidgeters. they're fuelled on caffeine, and alcohol, and nicotine, and the pressure of a huge job nearly everyday. their hands will be nearly vibrating off their arms if they don't keep them busy. lupin ends up being really handsy with everyone. when you meet him for the first time its super overwhelming. jigen fiddles with his gun, taking it apart and cleaning it a lot. having a cigarette constantly pinched between his fingers also proves a 'good' distraction. goemon's mind is just as hectic as the others' but he has his energy much more under control, usually. his training in meditation has helped him to sit and drive the energy pent up inside him outwards through deep breathing exercises and clearing the mind. he can get a little clumsy if he is feeling stressed or pressured on a heist. but as soon as the zantetsuken is back in his hands, his composure quickly returns.

[justletmeplayminecraft]

guess who’s back at it again in @martuzzio‘s space outlaw au! this is a bit of a shift from my last two, so please heed the warnings below! if you want to know details about any, or think any others should be added, then drop me a message. it’s also over 7k, buckle in.

usual psa, may not be completely canon to the au. i pick & choose depending on what’ll be most fun, and its up to marzo what (if anything) she wants to keep!  enjoy it as it is!! (aka wels has longer hair in this because i have a crayon licence that says ‘i do what i want’.)

featuring: mumbo has a meeting on his home planet that goes wrong in an impressive way, wels has a sword, an evil tech guy villain, hurt/comfort, me being annoyed i have to use grunts instead of minions because i only see yellow things & good ol’ last minute rescues

warnings: violence, electrocution, mind control esq device (not used on anyone), injury, attempted kidnapping, brief imprisonment, pseudo-science lmao

"So I'm on babysitting duty." Wels is an intimidating sight in his suit, sword glinting in his hand. Mumbo finishes slicking back his hair, trying to get the parting perfect before he replies.

"You're not that much older than me." Compared to some of the hermits, at least. Nobody can come close to Xisuma, anyway. Wels laughs, checking his sword over.

"I feel it." He tilts his head towards Mumbo with half a smile. "I'm pretty much ancient next to you." Mumbo scoffs, flicking through his design folder again. Thankfully, this is more of an exchange than a pitch. Mumbo's improved, certainly, but he'd argue his reputation does most of the work for him. It's the main, if not only, reason he's back here.

"You're going to look it if you bring an actual sword to a tech meeting." Wels shifts his hold, the sword pointed towards Mumbo in an instant, narrowly avoiding the glass screens he's holding.

"Think you can stop me?" He teases, one eyebrow raised. There's the hint of a smirk on his face. Mumbo breathes out, relieved he's not offended him by accident.

"Didn't say you couldn't, did I?" Wels's shoulders rise with a smile, his sword coming to rest at his side.

"Smart decision." Wels picks up his weapon holster. A brief meeting or not, they all know better than to leave the ship without protection. Iskall refused to let Mumbo go until he checked each of his weapons, cleaning them thoroughly. His suit has been examined too, even if he's leaving the helmet on their ship. He knows the air is breathable here and it'll probably help if he's recognised. Wels has his helmet under his arm, waiting to put it on. "You ready to go?" He asks, holding his hand out. Mumbo nods, patting his folder and weapons.

"Got everything I need," he replies. Wels gives him a last smile before putting his helmet on, checking its secure then nodding.

"Let's go get you to that meeting, then." Mumbo glances around the shuttle, making sure everything's shut down. It locks with a satisfying beep. "You know where we're going?"

"Think I remember my way around." Wels nods, gesturing for Mumbo to go ahead with a bow. It's only slightly sarcastic. Mumbo makes sure to roll his eyes as he takes the lead.

He'll admit, it's nice being back on his home planet. Stepping out of the hangar bay to concrete roads and pavements. White buildings reach into the sky, entwined with greenery and tunnelling the layered streets. It's not often he gets to come back here. Plus, he might get to prove himself and his designs. If this works out, it's a massive step for him.

With all its familiarity, it's still strange being somewhere so busy. Cars and buses float down the roads, and they pass by people as they walk. Families with kids, couples, mostly people in the business wear Mumbo recognises. The pair get a few second glances as they make their way through the city. Wearing the suits is a bit of a statement. In truth, Mumbo didn’t want the stress of changing for the meeting. He would've spent forever worrying about what to put on and how he wants to present himself. Whereas Wels would probably live in his suit if given the chance. They're more common in a city like this than in other places, but hardly a frequent sight in public. Being part of the Hermits might also garner some looks, but they should be fine here. It's friendly territory.

Wels sticks close to Mumbo either way. Even without seeing his expression, he can tell how carefully Wels examines their environment. Mumbo feels safer having him here. He wouldn't want to come on his own. The building they're looking for is at the edge of the town centre, a tall office building with an angled top. The same pristine white as the rest of them.

"This it?" Wels asks, crossing his arms. He's looking up at the building.

"Yep."

"Fancy." Mumbo can't help a soft noise of amusement. Inside is a wide lobby, with a fountain of all things at the back of the room, cushioned seats and plants filling the space. It's also strangely empty. The front desk is obvious enough. A hologram of a receptionist appears when they get closer.

"Hello and welcome to Dukes Crown Limited!" The voice is like a parody of a person. Mumbo's never liked the voice of AIs. The closer they are to human, the more uncanny they become. "What is your reason for visiting?" The wide smile never changes. Mumbo shivers.

"Mumbo Jumbo, I'm here for a meeting." The hologram remains still before jumping to life, pointing to a lift at the back of the lobby.

"Your meeting is on the thirty fifth floor, office A. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Mumbo shakes his head quickly, "Nope, that's all, thank you very much."

He's already turned towards the lift as the AI replies, "You're welcome. Enjoy your visit!" Wels joins him as he walks, leaning in close.

"Are they always that creepy?" He whispers, sneaking looks around the empty lobby.

"Unfortunately." He's never been completely comfortable with them. It's all superficial programming. You give something the ability to think and then limit it. "Lobbies aren't usually this empty either. Must be a busy day." Wels hums, sounding unconvinced. He follows Mumbo into the lift anyway, waiting in the corner. It takes Mumbo a second to find the right button. He tries to block out the cheery music and focus on his breathing.

"I don't like this," Wels states what they've both been thinking. Mumbo stares at the door of the lift. He breathes in deep, holding it before letting it out slowly.

"We can't exactly back out now," he says. He's come this far, taken the entire ship off course for this meeting. He knows Xisuma would understand. Gut instincts are there for a reason, as they've all learnt. But Mumbo wants something out of this. Maybe it's selfish.

"We could." Wels gestures to the panel. "We press the button, go straight back down and walk out of that fancy front door."

"You can if you want to," Mumbo tells him. Wels turns to him and Mumbo wishes he could see his expression.

"And leave you alone?" Wels asks. "Absolutely not." Mumbo smiles slightly, watching the number on the display climb until they reach their floor, accompanied by the same artificial voice of the receptionist. Wels steps out first, Mumbo following soon after.

Their suits click against the floors, white plastic beneath them. The walls are halftone between white and blue. It's not particularly appealing, but these offices rarely are. It was a lucky turn of events he ended up how he did. How boring his life would be if he actually made it into one of these.

"Is this the one?" Wels points to a closed door, one of very few on this floor. Mumbo checks the symbol on the side, nodding.

"Looks like it." Wels stands beside Mumbo, resting his hand near his sword.

"You ready to go in?" He asks. Mumbo quickly checks the time, sighing. It doesn't look like he can stall. This whole set-up has brought his anxiety back full force. He knows what he's doing, though. He's practised with the others, he knows not to devalue himself. He's going to be great.

"As I'll ever be." Wels lifts his shoulders, offering an incline of his head. Mumbo smiles back. He raises his hand to knock on the door, but it slides open before he can. Wels makes a quiet noise of surprise behind him. Mumbo shakes his head, stepping into the office.

It's emptier than he's used to. Two bookshelves against the walls, lined with books that look like they've never been read. There's a shutter blocking out the window, leaving the main light the bulb overhead. Towards the back of the room is the desk. It's empty. Mumbo looks to Wels, who's hovering inside the door.

"Do you think we're early?" Wels doesn't get the chance to reply. There's a loud bang from nearby. Mumbo spins in the direction of it just as his suit lets out a warning beep and the light flickers out. When he tries the display it won't turn on. Oh no. "Wels-"

He cuts himself off when he sees him fighting with his helmet, fingers missing the release latch. Mumbo drops his folder, rushing forward and batting Wels's fingers away so he can get to it himself. Wels fights him momentarily but settles when the helmet clicks and Mumbo can slide it off his head.

Fear isn't a stranger to Mumbo. He's certainly feeling it right now. But he's never seen it on Wels before. His eyes are wide until he scrunches them shut, his breath coming out in short puffs and his hair stuck to his forehead. He reaches his hand out and Mumbo offers his own to hold. His heartbeat picks up considerably as he glances around the room. The door has closed and Mumbo has no idea what this is.

"Wels?" He tries, when his breathing has calmed. "You with me?" Wels nods, taking a deep breath in and squeezing Mumbo's hand.

"Helmet stopped getting input." Mumbo winces, glad he didn't wear his.

"It's supposed to release when that happens-" He shakes his head "-I'll look into it. We've got worse problems." Wels blinks hard, standing straight and taking in the situation. His face is still red, but his composure has returned. He finally releases Mumbo's hand.

"The door's shut." Mumbo nods. He examines it, considering the model in his head. The keypad won't even activate when he tries it.

"This model is supposed to open when it loses power," he says, thinking out loud, "It's a safety feature."

"So someone's changed it on purpose."

"Appears so." Mumbo isn't going to think about those implications. "What even was that? Nothing's working." Wels's face is grim, trying to pry the shutters open.

"Localised EMP, I think. Probably only affected this floor."

"Well." Mumbo glares at the door, deciding to pry the keypad open. "This is just wonderful."

"Note to self." Wels ducks under the desk. "Trust our gut instinct." Mumbo makes a noise in response, sorting through the wires in the panel. He knows how these doors work but it doesn't seem to be getting any power. There's no amount of re-ordering wires that can change that. He tries his suit again but gets the same result. They need to get out of here and contact the others.

"Found anything?" He asks when Wels appears again.

Wels shakes his head, "Nothing. I was hoping for an escape latch or... Something." He makes a frustrated noise. "Somebody wants us trapped in here and I'm not going to let that happen."

"Well, I don't think there's any way I can open the door. Unless we can lever it." Wels looks it up and down.

"Right. Last resort." Wels pulls out his sword, launching it at the thin parting in the door. "Please don't break," he murmurs under his breath. In a sharp motion he angles his sword, managing to pry the door open by a crack. "Mumbo!" Mumbo squeezes his elbow in, pushing the door until the gap is wide enough for them both to fit through. Thankfully the only resistance is the weight, rather than any mechanism.

"I doubt the lift will be safe," Mumbo says, checking down the hallways. Wels has his sword by his side, holding it ready. He's left his helmet behind, same as Mumbo's files. An annoying loss, but he's not fighting the door again for them. "Did we pass stairs?"

"I think so." Wels leans on one foot to look down the corridor. "Are those signs?"

Both of their heads jolt in the direction of footsteps down the corridor. There's nowhere obvious to hide. Wels pushes Mumbo into the small alcove by the lift, standing in front of him with his sword to attention. Mumbo can't see his face but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Mumbo reaches for his gun, although he has a feeling it won't work. Neither of them breathe as the footsteps grow closer.

It's two men, dressed in dark clothing. Neither of them look in their direction, focused on the door they should be behind. There's no hint of movement before Wels launches. He butts one of the men on the head with the hilt of his sword, swinging as he drops to knock the gun from the other's hand. He follows it up with a strike against his head with the flat of the blade. Less deadly, but it leaves them incapacitated enough. Wels kicks their guns in Mumbo's direction.

"Anything work?" He asks, pushing the hair from his face back with a scowl. Mumbo scoops the weapons up. His own gun isn't working, so that's great. He plays with the other two, attempting to activate them. He only gets 'access denied' on a small screen.

"It's fingerprint locked. How absurd." He twists the gun to see the underside. "I could rewire it." Wels shakes his head.

"That would take too long," he says, "Our only advantage right now is that they don't know we're free. The blast will have knocked out the cameras on this floor." He nudges one of the grunts with his toe. "When these two don't report in or... Whatever, they'll realise."

"At least we know where the stairs are." Wels smiles, stepping over the grunt. He keeps his sword ready by his side, only slightly bloody.

"That's the spirit." Mumbo exaggerates his sigh and gets an amused puff in response. Wels gestures for him to continue with his hand, both of them making for the stairs.

"What's actually the plan here?" Mumbo asks as they reach the stairwell, thankfully open. Wels leans over the barrier to check below them. "Do we even have one?"

"Nope," Wels pops the 'p'. Well, nothing new there. "Stay behind me."

"Planning to."

He tries to tread lightly down the stairs, difficult with his suit. Wels nearly dances down them, feet ghosting over each step. He stops them both by holding a hand up. Mumbo only stumbles down one stair as he tries to stop. Wels turns, mouthing and pointing them both up around the bend. They press themselves around the stairwell, listening as a few people enter. Mumbo can see Wels relax when they go down away from them.

It's a tense wait for the voices to disappear, punctuated by another door sliding shut. The two wait for a few seconds more.

"This must still operate as an office building," Mumbo murmurs, keeping his voice low.

"It's a big building to rent out just for an elaborate trap." Wels continues down. "Is there usually a back door?" Mumbo hums, trying to think to his adolescence.

"There should be," he replies. Usually into an alleyway, for taking out the trash or something.

"Well, it's that or the front door." Wels checks ahead as they go down another twist. "Which would be a statement."

"They set an EMP off and tried to trap us in a room, Wels."

"A statement," Wels repeats, pausing to give Mumbo a cheeky smile. Mumbo shakes his head. It reminds him of the situation they're actually in. He has no idea what the motivation is for this. At least it's not Convex, he hopes. Variety is the spice of life or whatever. He trusts Wels when he says it was an EMP. There's something very wrong with this situation. Mumbo's a big fan of run first, ask questions later.

They encounter trouble as they reach the ground floor. Wels holds a hand out in front of Mumbo when they hear shouting, both of them stilling. Wels leans forward, listening carefully.

"Head up slightly," he murmurs, pushing Mumbo in the right direction. Mumbo hides around the corner, peering so he can just see Wels. He's pressed against the wall, his breathing measured. He's looking at the ground as the sounds come closer, voices and footsteps.

The door opens and Wels pounces. He kicks behind the knees of the first person, hitting his head with his sword. Without hesitation, he twists to the next, jabbing backwards and knocking them into the person behind. Mumbo is barely breathing, watching Wels's precise movements. Wels is quick to knock their weapons away, hair falling into his face.

A noise behind Mumbo startles him to his feet, raising his arms as he spots more grunts rushing down the stairs. He glances to Wels, finding he's mostly dispatched the ones by him.

"Wels, we need to go!" He calls, rushing down the stairs. Wels drops the last one with a jab to the spine, his shoulders rising with heavy breaths.

"Okay, that's a lot." He grabs Mumbo, narrowly pulling him out the way of a shot. His hand stays around his wrist until they're into the corridor, releasing him to sprint ahead. Mumbo gulps, breaking into a run. He can hear the crackle of electricity hitting the wall beside him, far too close for comfort.

He pauses when he hears a crack of electricity coming from up ahead, calling out a panicked, "Wels!" Wels stops, swerving to the side, but not fast enough to avoid the rope that flies out from a side door. It wraps around his torso, sparking with electricity and pinning his arms to his side. Wels falls with a pained shout. He lands hard on his arm, gasping out for breath. The sword falls too far from Mumbo's reach. He instinctively moves to help until his head kicks in, hearing the shouting around him.

"Hands up!" Mumbo looks at Wels on the ground, his chest heaving as the wire (he can now see that's what it is) crackles again. Wels shifts in place, letting out a weak cry at the pulse as his body tenses. Maybe it's a good thing his hair hides the pained expression Mumbo knows must be there. He raises his hands, allowing one of the grunts to grab his arms and pull them behind his back. Something solid and heavy is secured around his wrists. He almost loses his footing at a sharp tug, turning to see the bloody gash on the guy's head. Maybe Wels should have hit him harder.

A figure enters the corridor that Mumbo is more familiar with.

"Mr. Dukes-" he keeps his voice steady, masking the fear churning in his stomach "-This is an interesting meeting." Internally, he curses the guy out. He only has to take one look at Wels for his morals to disappear. But he knows they're at a disadvantage, and he knows that won't help anything.

"Mumbo," Dukes nods very slightly to acknowledge him before nudging Wels with a pointed toe. Wels groans, trying to curl up and Mumbo bristles. "This would've been much easier if you stayed put." Dukes waves at the grunts. "Take him to an office. I'll move them at nightfall, figure out what to do with the extra." There's a few affirmatives before Mumbo's being dragged away, battling every urge to break free or to call for Wels or something. It feels like he's failed somehow, but he doesn't fight. He doesn't know what to do.

-

Mumbo paces the room they left him in. He's tried everything he can get his restrained hands on, checked the walls, checked the door, the little furniture there is to check. He can't find a way out of here. In the tiniest crack at the base of the shutters, he can tell it's ticking into evening. They've got time. If they're moved to a second location they're absolutely boned.

There's no telling how long it'll take the others to realise something's gone wrong. First it'll be when they don't get an update after the meeting, but when did they expect the meeting to end? Then they'll send a message but how long until they worry about the lack of reply? A deep part of Mumbo is gnawing at him with the knowledge they might mobilise too late. The Hermits stop at nothing to protect their own, but they need to find them first. It's too easy to disappear.

With any luck, Dukes was only after Mumbo. Wels was extra, wasn't he? Turn him into the right governmental body for a quick profit, easy. Just as easy as it would be for the others to break him out. It's himself he's not sure about. He was the target of all this. For his designs, he's guessing. He slumps against the wall, watching the sunlight creeping under the shutter. He pushes away thoughts of what might happen to him. He's sure he'll find out soon enough.

The light outside gradually fades in colour. Mumbo paces the room several more times until it becomes a strong amber, travelling across the carpeted floor. If he stays still for too long he thinks his worry might consume him. He tries his suit a few times as a last ditch effort, knocking it against the wall. He can't even get annoyed at the work it'll take to fix it. He might not get the chance.

He's mid-pace when the door slides open. Two grunts grab his arms, holding him in place in the centre of the room. He scowls, trying to shift their grip. Dukes follows soon after them.

"It has," he replies, falling into the professional tone. "Do I get to know why we couldn't just have a peaceful, ordinary meeting?" Dukes strides forward, his hands clasped neatly behind him back. He's only an inch taller than Mumbo, but he makes him feel tiny.

"It's been some time, hasn't it, Mumbo?" Should've been longer, apparently. Being rejected for that internship destroyed him, back then. The constant comments, the reminders he'd never make anything of himself. All of it. He was so excited to finally prove himself and look at what that gets him.

"You have no idea how valuable you are, do you?"

Mumbo tilts his head side to side, "About ten million, actually, last time I checked." Dukes laughs.

"One of the smartest minds of a generation," Dukes says, "And still unsurprisingly foolish." Mumbo frowns. It's an effort not to reply. "See, I've been working on a project but I need more brains to push it further. It's nearly perfect and once finished, it could change the scene as we know it." Mumbo doesn't know it. He doesn't want to know it.

"That could've been done through negotiation," he replies, "I'm available to hire."

"I don't think I could pay you to work on this." Dukes holds something in front of him. A collar of some kind. There's sharp, thin spikes around the back, on the inside. Mumbo cringes at the sight. "This has been my brainchild for some time. This collar, combined with a remote, taps directly into the wearer's spinal cord. It can stop or send its own signals, allowing control of body parts the wearer can't use, better health management-"

"You want to use it to control people," Mumbo interrupts, the reality sinking in. He glares at Duke, hiding his terror as anger.

"Smart boy."

"You're right. I won't work on it." He edges back into the hands holding him. Dukes laughs again. The sound makes Mumbo feel dizzy.

"You wouldn't just be working on it," Dukes tells him, in the same tone someone would use to talk to a child. "You'd be one of the first test subjects." Mumbo's eyes widen. He pushes back, thrashing to loosen the grip on his arms.

"No- no, no, no-" He's completely broken and he knows it. No going back now. "Get away from me. Take that thing away. You're sick." Dukes stands there, ignoring Mumbo's panic. He opens an antiseptic cloth, running it over the metal points.

"I imagine it'll hurt going in," he explains like he's reading a book. "But we made sure it'll do as little damage as possible. It's getting it out that could mess things up a little."

"You can't do this. You won't get away with it."

"I think I already have-" Dukes steps forward, holding the collar up, "What will you do, call for help? Oh, wait-" A smile with too many teeth "-You won't be able to." Mumbo pushes himself back, drawing in as a last ditch effort to protect himself. He shuts his eyes and hears the crackle of electricity.

Then the hands around his arms release.

He tumbles to the floor, opening his eyes to see a suit he recognises stunning the second grunt. False turns to him, her expression hidden by her helmet.

"Mumbo-" It sounds as if a heavy weight is lifted when she says it. She drops to her knees, gently checking him over. "Are you okay, did he hurt you?"

Mumbo shakes his head, "No I'm... Alright. I'm okay." He's... It might take a minute to believe it. She sighs, resting her glove on his cheek.

"We were so worried. We just-" She shakes her head, standing and turning to the incapacitated people around her. "Let me sort this out first."

"No, please do." Safer than making the same mistake they did. She pulls out her sets of cuffs, securing the grunts first.

"We got a distress signal from Wels. Apparently it's set for if his suit fails. Then we couldn't find either of you- X went near ballistic," she explains as she works. Mumbo listens, her voice a grounding anchor. "We came as soon as we could."

"Who's here?" Mumbo asks. He knows they couldn't fit the entire ship.

"Iskall, Etho and I. Doc's on back up."

"Is Stress there?" False nods. "Wels might be injured. He seemed bad when he went down." She finishes checking the bindings, raising her arm.

"False reporting," she pauses for an unheard response, "I've got Mumbo. No injuries but he says Wels might be. Tell Stress to be prepared." Mumbo wishes he could hear the conversation, but False lowers her arm afterwards. She hesitates when she sees the collar, picking it up cautiously.

"What even is this?" She asks, helmet tilting to Mumbo. He shudders, drawing his legs closer to himself.

"It's a... controlling device. It accesses your spinal cord to send nerve signals. Lets you control someone." False looks at it for a long second, then to Mumbo.

"He was about to put this on you." She sounds breathless. Mumbo looks into his lap, can't find the words to reply. He might break down if he does. "I'm getting those cuffs off and getting you out. What are the authorities like here?" She leaves the collar to the side.

"They're not awful," Mumbo explains as she works on the restraints around his wrists, "But someone with money and influence like him... He'd probably find a way out of it." She makes a frustrated noise just as the restraints fall away. Mumbo's muscles ache in relief. He rubs at the soreness around his wrists.

"We'll see what we can do," she decides. She offers him a hand. He stumbles forward, kept upright by her firm grip. "Who is he? I'm assuming that's the leader." She dips her head in Dukes' direction. Mumbo sighs.

"Tristan Dukes. Everyone in the city knows him. Well-known for his innovation and inventions, donates regularly to charities. Most inspiring inventors want to work for him." Mumbo gives his wrist a last squeeze. "I tried going for an internship here. It didn't go well. Probably good I didn't get it, if this is what he's doing behind the scenes."

"If I wasn't afraid of waking him up then I'd kick him harder." Mumbo can't help an amused snort. His legs are still trembling.

"That's not very do-gooder of you, False." She laughs, bumping his side gently enough it doesn't knock him over.

"What X doesn't know can't hurt him." He breathes a little easier at her light tone. She reaches for her belt, placing a stun gun in his hands. "You ready to get out of here?" Mumbo glances to the door. He'd like to see Wels, get proof he's okay. But he'll only get in the way. The three of them are a well-oiled machine on missions like this.

"Absolutely." It's a cause for celebration when he steps out of that office prison on its own. "How did you guys get here?" It would be a bit obvious to have a crew in their full suits through the city.

False makes a high-pitched "Well." She shrugs, sounding not very sheepish. "We took one of the ships. Then we may've borrowed a few cars."

"Borrowed," Mumbo repeats. She holds her hands up.

"Hey, we fully plan on returning them this time!" Mumbo shakes his head, following behind her. She raises her arm. "False again-" Pause "-Yeah, I'm getting Mumbo out. Left three people in the office. Floor forty, office B. The one in the fancy clothes is the owner of the company, Tristan Dukes. I want a background check on him. Dig up all the dirt you can find. He's not going free." She hums, glancing at Mumbo. "Okay. Keep me updated."

"Who was that?" Mumbo asks. False starts moving towards the exit, giving her gun a quick check over.

"Ren," she replies. "He's doing comms from home. We should be all set." And isn't he glad to hear that?

Their escape goes better than his and Wels did. Any grunts on the staircase have already been dealt with, tied up in neat batches for the police to find. False still scopes out each corner, all business as they move through. It's the side door they leave through. The cool air in the alley nearly makes him sag in relief. The night is almost on them. She leads him through a network of alleys, head twitching towards any sounds she hears. The distant traffic is a quiet undertone. She approaches a parked car, knocking on the window of it.

The door swings open, Doc inviting Mumbo into the seat. Mumbo near collapses into it, shutting his eyes and leaning against the headrest.

"Mumbo," Doc greets. Mumbo cracks his eyes open, giving a tired smile. "It sure is good to see you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I could say the same." He's ready to sink into this seat forever. Doc rubs his shoulder and Mumbo allows himself to be pushed.

"What are you doing?" Doc looks to False, who's bouncing in place. Mumbo follows his gaze, listening along.

"I'm going to head back in," she tells him. "Can I trust you've got Mumbo?"

"Won't let him out of my sight." Mumbo rolls his eyes, slouching further into the seat.

"I am sitting right here." False laughs, patting his head.

"I'll keep in touch. Stay safe."

Doc nods, "You too." She offers a quick nod, closing the door and darting back into the alleys. Doc turns to Mumbo. He's smiling, but Mumbo can tell concern when he sees it. "How are you doing, man?" Mumbo sighs.

"Exhausted," he admits. "I don't think I've processed it properly at all."

"Understandable," Doc replies. "What even happened in there?" Mumbo groans, rearranging himself to rest against Doc's side. The suits aren't comfortable, but it helps to know someone is behind him after being alone in that room. He sticks his feet on the seat so his legs shield him from the door.

"Meeting could've gone better." Doc laughs deeply at that one, careful not to knock Mumbo off.

"Well, that's one way to put it." Mumbo smiles to himself, resting his eyes.

"Got into the office, EMP went off, broke out the room, nearly got out but got caught, rescued by False." He isn't going to mention the collar, or his history with Dukes. He'll save reliving that for the official report. "Think that covers it."

"Yikes."

"Yep."

"Guess it's not just Cub and Scar we gotta worry about, huh." Mumbo presses his hands to his face with a noise of displeasure.

"I don't even want to think about that. I do not want this to be a reoccurring nightmare." Doc chuckles, patting Mumbo's shoulder carefully.

"You'll be fine. Hopefully, it'll all be sorted after this. And you've got us. We're pretty terrifying." It takes a bit of effort, but Mumbo leans his head back far enough to see Doc's eyes.

"You know what, I'm holding you to that." He yawns, the energy that's been keeping him going has drained. He can tell he's crashing. "Protect me from businessmen with delusions of grandeur."

"Oh, of course." Doc's voice is dry. "I'll let Iskall know." Mumbo chuckles, shaking his head. He closes his eyes again, accepting he might not stay awake much longer.

"Big scary Iskall."

"He was big and scary when he found out you were in trouble."

"That's Iskall," he agrees. It's nice knowing that they all care about him. He wouldn't be forgotten. They'd keep looking until they found him.

He doesn't realise he's dozed off until he's being gently moved. He blinks his eyes open and realises he's now lying across the seats. Looking up, he finds Doc resting his hand on Mumbo's side. He's talking to someone out of eye-line. Mumbo relaxes. If Doc's there, then he's fine. He has no doubt in his mind about that at all.

The next time he wakes up, it's because he's being nudged awake. Doc is next to him, with a gentle smile.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he greets, sitting back so Mumbo can sit upright. He yawns, covering his hand with his mouth. "We're back at the ships. Got some stuff to finish up before we go back home."

"Is it finished?" Mumbo asks, rubbing his eyes. When he looks out the window, he recognises the hangar parking.

"Yep." Doc crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "There was an incident-"

"Is Wels okay?" Mumbo interjects, fear twisting his stomach. Doc's expression softens as he nods.

"Wels is fine. Fractured his arm and a little bruised, but Stress has got him. He was asleep last I heard." Mumbo sighs, his chest finally expanding again. He sinks back into the seat. He has no idea how they've made it out of this situation as lucky as they have. "You wanna head into the ship? Let one of the others return this car." Mumbo nods. Would be nice to avoid running into the law after all this.

When he gets closer to the ship, he can hear shouting. He frowns, pressing closer to Doc. Doc simply rolls his eyes.

"They're still going," he murmurs.

"Still?"

Doc shakes his head, "Don't worry about it."

He leans over to open the ship door. The arguing silences immediately. False and Iskall turn to them as they enter. They're helmet-less, although False's hair is still in a bun at the bottom of her head.

"Mumbo!" Iskall moves before Mumbo can react, nearly knocking them over as he wraps his arms around him. Mumbo's brain momentarily malfunctions, taking a second to remember to hug Iskall back. "I was so worried, don't you dare do that again."

"I wasn't planning to, but I'll let you know." Iskall steps back, keeping his hands on Mumbo's forearms.

"And you're okay? How are you feeling?"

"I'm-" The lie nearly slips out before Mumbo thinks about it. He sighs, answering truthfully. "I'm a bit shaken. Finding it hard to believe that all happened, honestly."

"We've got you, okay?" Iskall reminds him. "I'll listen if you want to talk." Mumbo nods. He's not sure when that will be, but he knows it'll do him good.

"Will Xisuma want a proper report?"

"Not until you and Wels are rested up," False says, "He's pleased you're safe." She nods to Doc. "We're going to take the car back."

"Make sure you check in," Iskall tells them.

"We will," Doc reassures, offering a wave as they head outside. The ship feels much emptier with the two of them gone.

"Do you want to see Wels?" Iskall asks. Mumbo didn't realise how much he wanted that until now.

"Yes. Yes, I'd very much like that." Iskall smiles, leading Mumbo through the ship. It's bigger than the one he and Wels took. Offers more than three rooms. Iskall takes them into one of the side doors. Mumbo can immediately see the pink of Stress's suit as she moves around the room, humming a tune to herself. She pauses when she sees them in the doorway.

"Oh! Mumbo, you're back!" She smiles. Mumbo spots Etho curled in a chair on his phone. He raises a hand to acknowledge them. "You're not secretly hiding any injuries are you?"

Mumbo laughs, shaking his head, "No, I promise I'm okay. No injuries on me." She pokes her finger into her cheek.

"And you wouldn't mind me checking?"

"Um, if you want to."

She beams at him, "Nah, you're fine!" Iskall scoffs, gesturing out.

"How come that doesn't work for me? This is bias. Surely that's against oath."

"Iskall, love," Stress starts, her voice dangerously sweet, "Your idea of a minor injury is a stab wound. You've lost trust privileges." Iskall makes a noise of protest whilst Mumbo breaks into laughter. He can see Etho smiling out the corner of his eye.

There's a groan from the bed, then a teasing voice, "Who let you lot in?" Wels pushes himself up with one arm. The bulk of his suit is gone, only the black under-layer left. His other arm is bound by tight fabric to his chest. More interestingly, his hair has been neatly plaited out of his face.

"You shouldn't be moving, mister!" Stress scolds, jumping to move the pillows so he can sit up. "No jostling that arm."

"Yes ma'am," Wels replies. He laughs when Stress flicks his cheek, batting her away with his uninjured arm. Mumbo feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time since all of this started. Wels looks at him, his expression soft. "Good to see you, Mumbo." His voice turns serious when he asks, "You're okay?"

"I'm fine. Virtually untouched." He holds his arms out before remembering he's still wearing his full suit. "Don't know if I can say the same for you." Wels laughs, sinking into the pillows.

"It's only a broken arm."

"Only," Iskall teases, "Like you're not going to complain when you still can't use it in a week."

Wels hums, "Well, Stress gave me painkillers, so I'm not exactly hurting right now." Stress waves her hands.

"All of you have complexes, I swear! You're gonna gain nothing by sitting there all miserable and sore!" She sounds genuinely exasperated. Mumbo is guilty of falling into that category.

"Admit it, you just like seeing us all loopy." Iskall tilts his head towards her. Stress flashes a smirk, resting her cheek in her palm.

"You can't prove it."

"That's admittance." Etho chimes in, keeping his eyes on his phone, fingers moving impossibly fast.

"I- I don't think that's how you use that word." Iskall frowns, his face scrunching in confusion.

"They're all made up anyway," Etho replies, "I'll use them how I want."

"Stress?" Wels asks, turning to her. His voice is perfectly polite.

"Yes?"

"Can I have more painkillers for the headache they're giving me?" Mumbo barely holds back his laughter. Iskall doesn't, doubling over with it. It only gets stronger when Etho makes a noise, looking disappointed at his phone.

"Yeah, I think you're going to be okay." Iskall pats the bed by Wels's feet. Stress finally sighs, standing fully and shepherding the two in.

"If you're going to clutter the room up then get some chairs. We can have a sleepover." Mumbo smiles, getting pushed into the chair Iskall slides under him.

"Woohoo," Iskall cheers dryly.

"Does that mean I get ice cream?" Wels asks, "I think I deserve ice cream."

"You need more sleep, is what you need." At Wels's dramatic noise she adds, "Ice cream when you wake up."

Iskall sticks his hand up, "Do the rest of us get some?"

"I want ice cream," Etho adds. Stress breathes in slowly, closing her eyes.

"You lot are gonna be the end of me," she announces with a smile. "Go to sleep." Mumbo laughs. Despite his impromptu nap, he can already feel tiredness settling in again. Surrounded by everyone teasing each other, it's not hard to drift off. Nothing's going to get him here.

-

"He was going to put that collar on him," False explains. Her arms are folded, back straight. The hologram of Xisuma frowns, a surprising display of emotion during a debrief. "If I'd been literally seconds later, X, I don't know what we'd be dealing with."

"And he's doing okay?" Xisuma asks, concern in his voice.

"He's dozing with Wels," Iskall replies. "He said it hasn't set in yet. I've told him I'll be there if he wants to talk about it. Stress and Doc are with them."

"Okay. And Wels?" The two glance at Etho.

"He wasn't great when I found him," Etho explains, his mission voice in full force. "We think he's broken his arm and he was giving me static shocks, so probably electrocuted. Won't know more unless they open up, but they seemed in good spirits earlier." Iskall nods in agreement. It's concerning him how quickly they've both settled. As if nothing traumatic happened. That's the most insidious kind. The one that punches you later.

"What about the people responsible?" All three of them share glances at that. False swallows.

"We secured most of the grunts. The authorities have picked them up." She made sure of it herself.

"But?" Xisuma prompts.

"The main guy, Dukes or whatever, completely vanished." Bitterness is still heavy in Iskall's tone. False sighs.

"I left him in the room, out cold, whilst I got Mumbo out of there. He was gone by the time I got back and so was the collar."

"None of us saw him leave," Etho adds.

"This is... More concerning. So that device is still out there."

"It won't be easy for him to build himself back up after this," False explains, "Most of the papers are already linking it to his company."

"That's no guarantee," Etho points out. "There's ways to place blame, claim he had no idea."

"Or he'll use it to go even deeper," Iskall comments. Xisuma taps his fingers on his arm, the hologram flickering as he thinks.

"Have you told Mumbo or Wels about this?" He asks, finally. He always puts his crew first.

"We've... No," Iskall admits.

"We're not sure how to."

"Make sure you do," Xisuma tells them, "Before you get back tomorrow." He pauses, looking over the camera. "Well, today now. Consider yourselves dismissed. We can have a full debrief when you're back on the ship." The three nod. They exchange a brief farewell before the hologram shuts off. Iskall turns to False, resting his hand on her arm to stop her rushing off.

"I'm sorry for shouting earlier," he apologises, straight to the point. "This has stressed me out more than I'd like, and finding out that scum got away just-" He breaks off. False smiles.

"It's okay. I get it." She couldn't believe it when she got back and he was gone. Then nobody knew where and her blame had to fall somewhere. "But they're with us, now. We're all safe. We got there in time."

"We nearly didn't."

"But we did," Etho states, joining the conversation. "Don't get stuck on the ifs right now. They're going to need us."

Iskall nods. "Right. Yeah." He perks himself up. "After mission nap?" False shakes her head, the three heading back through the ship.

"It's past midnight," she reminds him.

"After mission bedtime," Etho suggests. Iskall laughs, but nods along.

"Things could've gone worse," he states. False claps lightly, aware of the possible sleeping hermits.

"There you go! That's more like it."

"Mission successful-ish," Etho agrees.

"We got them back," False says, "That's the main thing."

"Yeah."

None of them want to consider the alternative.

[theelfmaiden]

Tolkien & Languages & Character names anon here again-

First of all, ouch, it is so hard when you just can't take the character seriously because of the name!

Second of all, yeah, most of the Finnish influences of Quenya as it is these days are so kind of mixed up with everything else and disappeared (or on a grammatical level where they're harder to see) that you can't really spot them, but every now and then something catches the eye and it's quite fun.

Overall I sometimes like playing "guess the Finnish/Karelian influences" when it comes to Tolkien's works, because there's some connections in the stories as well. Túrin Turambar's story is perhaps the most easy to spot; it is basically an epic fantasy AU of the tale of Kullervo in the Finnish-Karelian epic Kalevala (which, unlike Silm, does not have dragons or evil dark lords)... the stories and even in some ways the characters are very similar, and the suicide scene is pretty much exactly the same, down to phrasings like "drinking blood", and the sword pointing out that Túrin/Kullervo has killed a lot of innocent people with it...

There are other connections as well, but those are harder to spot and more debatable, whereas Túrin's story has so many so direct similarities that it's impossible to argue the connection isn't there XD

Welcome back, dear Finnish anon!

Well, lemme thank you for the starters, I'm glad you understand my suffering concerning the name of Magor. It's... just hilarious and I laugh every time when I reach that place where he's first introduced. It's very loooooool to say the least... 😅

Now, well... I can't really speak of 'the mixing up, not being that apparent' etc. much since there's little to no chance of me knowing that... that'd be your area of expertise, I only know that the influences are there... but I can defs understand the fun it can be a source of! It's surely refreshing. And I'd defs like to know more!

Concerning the cultural influences, I must solemnly tell you that I've read 'the story of Kullervo', and I have a copy of it at home (not the entire 'Kalevala', sorry, but been planning on reading the whole thing!) and from reading that I could really tell how great of an influence it was... 'cause it's nearly the same thing, as you were saying, despite both having different backgrounds. I was very like "wait! What am I actually reading?!" when I was reading it for the first time. And I enjoyed it thoroughly!

(Also the influences game you play's wonderful, I do this with all 'the Witcher' stuff...! 😅)

🇫🇮🇨🇿

[passionate-reply]

This time on Great Albums, I talk about an album that actually isn’t older than I am for a change! Enter the spooky, haunted forest of The Knife with me, and find out why it was Pitchfork’s Album of the Year in 2006! Full transcript after the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be tackling an album that’s more recent than anything I’ve done on Great Albums before, but it’s still old enough to start being considered a classic: The Knife’s Silent Shout, released in 2006, and hence seeing its fifteenth birthday in 2021. Silent Shout is a bit special to me, insofar as it was an album I loved as a teenager, back when it was still pretty new, and it was probably the first album I really fell in love with that wasn’t significantly older than I was. I was quite surprised when I eventually learned just how beloved Silent Shout is among music aficionados. This album has been lauded in critical circles, recommended as a “patrician” essential, and even considered one of the greatest electronic albums of all time! So, what’s the fuss about?

Before Silent Shout, The Knife were significantly closer to a conventional electronic pop duo. Their biggest claim to fame was the track “Heartbeats,” which scored some exposure after a cover of it was featured in a TV ad.

Music: “Heartbeats”

I like to think that “Heartbeats” contains the seeds of what’s great about Silent Shout, with its grinding synth backing and vocalist Karin Dreijer’s affecting wail. But its indie-pop brightness is something distinctively absent from their follow-up. Contrary to what might’ve been expected from an up-and-coming pop act, the sibling duo hunkered down in the studio and set about making something stranger and more exotic. On the technical front, they stripped the production down to its bare essentials, using just digital rhythms and two synthesisers to achieve everything we hear on the album. Stylistically, they took their sound into moody, atmospheric territory, imbuing it with this eerie, claustrophobic ambiance. It’s the musical equivalent of Frankenstein emerging from Mary Shelley’s mind, while the dreary “Year Without a Summer” had poisoned the world around her.

Music: “Silent Shout”

The title track here is also the opener, and introduces us to the frightful world of Silent Shout without mercy. This track is dominated by a powerful contrast of sound: low, thrumming bass, and these quick, but delicate and meandering synth arpeggios, carrying a distinctively Scandinavian flair. This bewitching synthesis of musical ideas makes sense in light of the diverse influences of the two siblings who made up The Knife: Instrumentalist Olaf Dreijer was strongly influenced by dance styles like house, trance, and progressive techno, as well as ambient electronic music, whereas vocalist Karin Dreijer was interested in guitar-based popular music, as well as the distinctive folk traditions of their native Sweden. Not unlike the Pet Shop Boys, they’ve got a wide gap between their influences, but that only serves to intensify the uniqueness of their work, which strikes listeners in a way the constituent musical parts of its heritage never could. Perhaps the most significant sonic feature of the album, though, is the extreme electronic distortions of Karin Dreijer’s voice.

Music: “One Hit”

If raw and everymannish vocals make music feel more in line with our everyday reality, the shocking and monstrous ones on *Silent Shout* render it a truly otherworldly work of art. While many people are quick to decry the “fakeness” of electronically mediated vocals--despite the fact that all art is, of course, artificial--I think Silent Shout proves, more boldly than anything else, just how uniquely powerful this musical tool can be in the right hands. Once you get past the sheer sonic force of the vocals, and their peculiar, skin-crawling timbres, you’ll find that most of the lyrical subject matter is actually painfully quotidian. “One Hit,” for instance, is told from the perspective of an all-too-normal “monster”: a domestic abuser, extracting and enforcing femininity and domestic servitude through the force of violence, dealing in “one hit, one kiss.” Sex, gender, and exploitation based upon them are among the album’s most central themes, and expressed harrowingly on tracks like “Na Na Na”:

Music: “Na Na Na”

Perhaps moreso than any other track on the album, “Na Na Na” is rendered borderline incomprehensible by vocal treatment--a trait magnified by its obviously meaningless title and chorus. But “Na Na Na” does have real lyrics, which tell the story of a life mediated by reproductive anatomy, defined by the rhythm of menstruation, coming from within, and the constant fear of sexual violence from without. It’s a tale of hidden anxiety, and experiences that go unseen and unspoken despite how common they are, making the haze of inscrutability laid over them all the more poignant. It’s clear that these issues are of high importance to Karin Dreijer, who has publicly described themself as “genderqueer,” despite both members of the band being remarkably sparing with all personal details. In another of the most striking vocal performances on the album, “We Share Our Mother’s Health,” Dreijer even gets to sing a duet with themself, and embody two distinct characters at once.

Music: “We Share Our Mother’s Health”

“We Share Our Mother’s Health” can be read in the light of gender and sex dynamics, as well, particularly if you’re willing to read its twin narrators as representations of masculinity and femininity. Personally, though, I think that’s a bit too easy, and really, a bit too cisnormative. I think the album is more interesting if we embrace the fundamental uncertainty of identity, and the transgressive queerness of it all. That said, I prefer to think of “We Share Our Mother’s Health” as a piece about capitalism--the endless toiling and scrounging for more material comfort and security, and the emptiness left behind when that proves to be no pathway towards true happiness. Besides, it’s not like sexism and the class struggle don’t feed off of each other in the end. This track’s sense of cacophony, with voices nearly battling to drown each other out, shows its more strident, aggressive, and downright angry side, which it delivers as powerfully as it does those moody atmospheres.

Silent Shout is the perfect title for this album, given its emphasis on voicing internal and private laments that go unheard--and voicing them with this terrifying sense of primal scream catharsis. While I initially wasn’t overly fond of the album art, it’s grown on me a bit now that I’ve seen it blown up to a larger size. This central disc shape is certainly evocative of a record or a CD, and its industrial-looking lattice structure, with a mottled, grimey-looking texture, helps conjure the impression of machine-age ennui.

I think a lot of the enduring appeal of Silent Shout is its sense of mystery. A lot of that mystery is deliberately crafted iconoclasm, and part of the art--while promoting the album, The Knife were photographed wearing sinister, elaborate beaked “plague doctor” masks, and their live performances from this period shrouded the band in darkness to obfuscate their appearances. They’ve refused to accept awards for their music or attend award ceremonies, including one memorable incident in which they sent costumed representatives of feminist organisation Guerrilla Girls in their stead. After Silent Shout, the duo created an opera based on Charles Darwin’s The Origin of Species in 2009, and released one more studio album in 2013: Shaking the Habitual.

Music: “A Tooth For an Eye”

Shaking the Habitual received mixed reviews, and so far, has proven to be the siblings’ final work together, though they remain active as musicians independently, with Karin Dreijer recording under the moniker “Fever Ray.” Part of the great myth of Silent Shout is the fact that nothing else in their discography really quite approaches its specific sound, and sharp precision of conceptual focus. It’s like the album is tailor made to stand perfectly alone, outside of context, perhaps even outside of genre.

For many of us, this great legend of lightning-in-a-bottle genius is infinitely alluring. But I’ve never really bought into it too thoroughly myself. I obviously adore Silent Shout, and I think it’s a Great Album. But, unlike many people who have showered it with praise, often claiming that they don’t enjoy “electronic music” overall, I’ve always been interested in a lot of heavy, angry, creepy synthesiser-based music, and so I never thought too much of listening to this and liking it. People praise Silent Shout for being unlike anything else, but I think it sounds like a lot of post-industrial dark wave, like Attrition or Chris & Cosey, and its themes of feminist rage feel like a strong parallel to that of more recent stars of noise music such as Pharmakon and Lingua Ignota. But that’s not to devalue what Silent Shout does achieve! I think it *is* a unique album...in the way that a bat is a unique animal. Much as bats are not the only creatures who fly, but stand out for having developed that ability despite their mammalian heritage, Silent Shout doesn’t actually take direct inspiration from the earlier music it sounds the most like. It ended up there through the aforementioned eldritch alchemy, combining trance and folk and Kate Bush to get something new. That’s still something worth celebrating! Silent Shout needn’t be a perfect enigma to be a stirring masterpiece of an album.

My overall top track on Silent Shout, which I bet will be a popular choice, is “Forest Families.” It’s equal parts bleak and strangely anthemic, defined by both the unease of adapting to a plainer and harsher existence, outside the bounds of society, as well as the release that music itself provides to so many of us as we seek comfort. Since music is so important to me, I’m a real sucker for music about the importance of music, and it feels particularly well-placed on an album that’s a cathartic listen in so many ways. That about wraps this one up; thank you for watching!

Music: “Forest Families”

[deliciousscaloppine]

Hot takes galore 2: A brief overview of fandom backlashes that influenced fanfiction writing traditions as I have personally experienced them.

In this segment we examine...THE INDOMITABLE MARY SUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, as I was entering fandom in 2008 (Bleach, a manga by Kubo Tite), the hottest, sweattiest discourse pertained perhaps to Mary Sues. I thought the hatred of Mary Sues had completed its cycle and it was dead and gone in our days, BUT I happened upon a post that said that we are all stanning Moxiang Tongxiu’s OCs (original characters), in a sort of admonishing tone, and I couldn’t help but smile.

For back in the day, OCs, were termed self-inserts at best, and if they were a female protagonist that would sideline the canonical cast of characters then they were Mary Sues. And there were as many people hating original characters, and Mary Sues in particular that I remember sitting up all night thinking on whether I should post or not this fic that had some OCs in it that were there to just deliver some messages.

And of course this bled into accusations of writing canonical characters as basically “original characters” or “self-inserts”, by use of the term “ooc” (out of character). Personally, I thought this was over, but recently Riri accused me of disregarding the existing characterization and turning the CQL characters into my own original characters...for KINKY HAVOC IN VOLCANO PALACE!

An unjust accusation, I feel, Riri, because I do my damnedest to maintain characterization even under the wildest circumstances. 

People were looking to extend their enjoyment of the existing characters and story, and for some reason fanfic authors could come under fire for not catering to that, and writing for their personal self-fulfillment. 

And there were as many people writing oc’s and Mary Sues as there were people hating them, and the writers for it. It was chaos, there were journals (i was in livejournal) devoted to roasting mary sues, laughing at authors etc. If you came in fandom after me, you live in much much gentler times, and perhaps you have the Mary Sue to thank for that, because the Mary Sue kickstarted a lot of fandom feminist discourse.

Back in the day they usually determined “Mary Sue” as an overpowered, female character, whom everyone loved even though she might not be particularly charming (by whose standards?), who was adept at everything, knew everything, felt everything etc. 

The thing is that Mary Sues did not seem to exist only in fanfiction, but everywhere around us, whenever there would be a project film/show/comic/book that had a strong female protagonist.

And that was because fandom and male nerd culture were intertwined. Anime, games, comic books were heavily “invaded” by swaths of girls who were not quite fulfilled by corny pop stars, or saccharine rom coms, and seeing that there were no female power fantasies available in these media, they created their own.

It was a very interesting time because if you remember, Marvel Movies started getting made around that time, riding on that convention power, which was dominated by male nerd culture - and that is why they gave so little screen time to female characters, because the demographic was pretty thoroughly examined and they were found to dislike any and every female character that was not there to validate the male character’s cishetero sexuality (YEAH BABY)

I mean women, actresses, female characters had a good portion in media, and the marvel cinematic universe and its imitators pretty much sidelined all these people very aggressively. Male stories started exploding and taking over during this time, exploiting that very vocal male nerd demographic. 

But where is the backlash you ask, because so far we’ve only seen the oppression. 

I saw a lot of writers struggle with the validity of the female character, and then the validity of female writing. They conflated writing female characters, as writing without examining themselves, or attaining a neutral voice and a role of representing accurately reality (lol). Writing Mary Sues was bad writing, and at some point all women were Mary Sues.

...So can you guess what happened?

A lot of these people turned to male slash in order to cope. Before the Mary Sue hate, male slash was a considerable but not dominant piece on the fanfic pie, which was mostly dominated by main het ships. Male slash was already enjoyed by female heterosexual audiences, but it started gaining more and more traction until a term was coined (shipping goggles), and accusations were once more flung: that fangirls will ship any two white dudes - not untrue. 

This audience was not very friendly to actual gay people. There were all sorts of strange views passing before my bespectacled eyes at the time. People proclaiming that they loved yaoi (i was in manga, so this was the term used), but would not watch gay porn, and thought gay people were gross. And in the case where gay people were in fandom these people often complained of not being included/invited in fandom activities, or having minimal readership from groups that promoted male slash, but not gay writers.

This is why I often say fandom is not a friendly place for lgbtq people, because this type of audience still exists, even if it had to suppress their discomfort and assimilate the rhetoric of allyship at some point. And sadly a lot of people who dominated these early discussions about fandom becoming more lgbtq friendly since it consumed such relationships in media, managed to set this climate of dishonesty where everyone is pro-lgbtq in theory, but not in action.

Meaning a lot of stereotyping that is not endemic to actual lgbtq communities. Like top-bottom (most people are verses), whiny bottom, subby bottom, violent top, aggressive sex, hypersexual gay characters, almost complete erasure of bisexuality, lesbians what are they?, a complete and absolute fear in portraying trans characters, suppression of genderfluidity, accusing people of writing male gay characters as female characters as a form of wish-fulfillment or supposed homophobia.

A while ago I saw this article asking why lgbtq people are so mean to each other that confused me thoroughly, until I remembered this call out phase that happened a while ago and still goes on, where everyone blames everyone else of abusing and gaslighting them, friendships falling out etc, which is not at all the reality of older lgbtq scenes, because these were not formed online under this climate. 

And because fandom is a vehicle for self-exploration a lot of people to this day conflate consuming lgbtq relationships through media as being lgbtq themselves, or these “actual” relationships being set as these other fictional “idealized” relationships. Whereas in older lgbtq scenes a lot of people come into them by realizing their attraction to actual, real, live people and not characters, or hot celebrities.

I am not saying that current lgbtq people who discovered that about themselves online are lying, or lying to themselves, but they definitely came out in an environment of fake acceptance, and have a hard time reconciling reality with that lie of acceptance through no fault of their own, of course, because they never developed the language and the understanding that language brings in order to communicate amongst them. The characteristics were set by a group outside of them that might be pro gay marriage, and having a cool gay friend, and the inherent tragedy of homosexuality or something, but are not really for it - as a very wise queer eye contestant once said. 

And so every trespass by their own people, becomes a proof of this generalized rejection with tremendous consequences for young people’s mental health. YOU ARE BEING GASLIT IT’S TRUE - but not by your own people, it’s just a miscommunication going on there.    

BUT WHAT HAPPENED TO THE MARY SUE. She changed. She stopped seeking love, sex, and power, or at least pretended that she did not want any of these things, or did not understand them, she stopped speaking, and became more stoic so people wouldn’t judge her opinions, and finally one day she went on to accomplish great things, because women seeking representation was also a pretty set demographic, and somebody could and would exploit that!

The Twilight Saga, Fifty Shades of Grey, even Hunger Games, are the media progeny of the Mary Sue powering through the entirely of male nerd culture. In a whole decade where people wanted Marvel to release a Black Widow movie, there have been three major spy/action girl movies that did very well in the box office, and since producing and releasing a movie usually takes three years, i’d say the audience was heard loud and clear - even though not by Marvel. 

And the side girls in these Marvel movies, or other action movies, became more and more badass - they all went from damsel in distress, to saving the hero, and of course the male characters were subsequently “queer-ified” until everyone was finally happy, and nerd culture was exposed as having been infiltrated by neonazis and that’s why it was making those unreasonable demands for no women ever in the first place.

And everything was right in the world, except that it was not. Because...girls had also been infiltrated by “neonazis”. A lot of these media, and a lot of these “white” Mary Sues, fall under many conservative criteria. Conservatism being a nice word for fascism. 

A few examples is the person of color always dies, or is brutalized, or is admonished constantly even as they shadow the protagonist in order to reinforce their inherent radiance. Characters who might be poc in books or in the anime (hur hur), are whitewashed in the visual media. The women are almost never comfortable with sex or romance, always thinking about the future and amassing power, not for themselves, but for the benefit of the resistance, or the family, or any other entity they belong to. And of course they are forever incredibly flawed - as opposed to idealized versions of male heroes always on the side of good for the right reasons! Also a minimal cast of women, with one woman being the protagonist, and the rest functioning as side characters or mostly antagonists.

So every time you feel a slight trepidation for not being the right type of lgbtq for writing something that is not strictly anal, or fear to include feminine characters, every time you erase yourself from the narrative it is it, the spectre of the Mary Sue coming to haunt you with a “We won, what more do you want?”  

[dasphinxone]

I hope I'm not too late and asks are still open. But I wondered if you had any more thoughts/ideas/scenes/etc for the Mummy au? I totally love your contribution of Booker and Nicky as brothers and what that dynamic would look like. BAMF!Nile and Librarian!Booker give me life. Thanks for all your wonderful au ideas and fic!

Oh man, you are NEVER too late for Asks and they are currently open! In the meantime, allow me to ramble about my PURE AND UTTER LOVE FOR THE FRASER/WEISZ VERSIONS OF “THE MUMMY.” 

You see, I had a mad HUGE crush on Brendan Fraser when the first one came out. Except it turned out that the entire damn cast was so beautiful (OMG, the Oded Fehr hotness. So glad they brought him back for the sequel). They all have wonderful chemistry too, and rather similar to the group dynamics of The Old Guard. 

On top of that, I have always maintained that it’s Evie who is the real protagonist of the movie. Everyone else stays pretty much the same to their characters as when we’re introduced to them. Meanwhile, it’s Evie who goes from librarian to adventuress. She is thrown into all sorts of situations where she can prove to the world that librarians are just as damn smart and necessary as the brawns of Rick, the cunning of her brother Johnathan and the honorable warrior of Ardeth Bay.

It’s also Evie who comes out of the other end of the wild-ass adventure a changed person. It’s even more obvious in the sequel, where she takes a level in badassery. The best part about that? Rick adores her for it and they are clearly in a happy marriage versus the tired trope of married couples being all bitter. 

(I pretend the third movie NEVER HAPPENED, you hear me?!)

ANYWAYS, As Evie and Jonathan grew up rich (the museum curator clearly says to Evie that the only reason he puts up with her is that her parents were the largest donors to the museum), I figure Booker can grow up pretty wealthy too.

Sébastien le Livre is an only child who spends his life around his Action and Adventure!French Parents who have moved to Egypt to be archeologists. While they are world famous archeologists? They’re not the best parents. For they drag Sébastien along on their archeological excursions because they don’t know any better. So Sébastien spends all of his childhood time around his parents and their eccentric adult friends. Yes, they should have sent Sébastien to boarding school, like other rich folks of their time. But what kind of boring-ass education is that as compared to going out into the real world for field study?  

Sébastien’s field experience makes him brilliant child. Yet it also turns him into a socially awkward little boy. He’s rarely around other kids or attending school since he out on digs with his parents. On top of that, when his parents can’t bring him on digs, they leave him home in their great big house with his nanny, tutor and the servants for company. Since Sébastien doesn’t have kid friends, he’s always taking in stray animals, rescuing birds that fell out of their nests and doing precious sorts of things like that. He also LOVES reading. He’s fluent in French, English, Latin, Greek  and conversational Arabic. Oh, and he can also read hieroglyphs with ease.

Again, Sébastien is a weird kid.

When Sébastien is around say, nine or so, he catches seven year-old orphan Nicky in the parlor of his and his parent’s grand house breaking in and trying to steal things. His parents are out of town on yet another dig, so Sébastien’s randomly wandering around the house by himself. Instead of panicking, Sébastien just invites spooked Nicky to kitchen for tea and sandwiches out of the sheer delight of having another child to talk to. Thoroughly used to Sébastien and his soft spot for strays, the kitchen staff sits the two boys in the corner and lets Nicky wolf down whatever he wants. Nicky eventually leaves after Sébastien swears he won’t tell his parents about the stealing. But only if Nicky promises to come back tomorrow to hang out with Booker.

Nicky actually shows up the next day. Mostly due to the promise of food. While he thinks Sébastien is clearly odd, he also realizes he’s just as lonely as he is (after all, street kid orphan Nicky hasn’t survived this long on his own without being able to see people for what they truly are). But whereas Nicky is aggressive with acting out due to his abandonment issues, Sébastien tends to implode on himself due to his own parental abandonment issues. Basically, they balance each other out. 

Three weeks later, Sébastien’s parents come back from their latest dig down in Alexandria. They find Sébastien playing with this street kid out on the extensive grounds of their estate. Shocked at seeing their usually quiet and withdrawn son having a blast with this Italian ragamuffin of a child, due to being the impulsive types, Booker’s parents decide to adopt Nicky. So Sébastien gains a new brother. No matter that they’re not related by blood, Nicky is his brother.

Since Sébastien loves to read, he enjoys reading out loud to Nicky (who is nearly illiterate since he’s an orphan who never had formal education before being adopted). While Sébastien and Nicky have their own rooms at their parents’ estate, Nicky will often sneak into Sébastien’s room at night so that his older brother can read to him. Their nanny usually finds the two boys asleep together with a book sitting between them. Sébastien also helps Nicky learn to read far better than their tutor does. Mostly because Sébastien is so patient with his new little brother.

It’s because of this that Nicky comes up with the affectionate nickname of “Booker” for his new big brother.

Booker graduates from boarding school and attends The Sorbonne back in Paris. While he misses Nicky something fierce, everything will work itself out because he’ll be graduating from The Sorbonne at the same time Nicky will be finishing boarding school. That way, they both be archeologists together and follow in their parents’ footsteps. Booker plans to focus on the research side of things from either libraries or teaching. Nicky plans to actually go on digs and bring back things for Booker to study and catalogue.

Booker does eventually get sent off to British style boarding school in Cairo, as is expected of a wealthy child of his class. A couple of years later, Nicky is sent off to the same boarding school.

Nicky's always getting into fights. Mostly due to the other kids bullying him for his accent, heritage and defending Booker against bullies too. The only reason Nicky doesn’t’ get kicked out is because Booker is able to charm the teachers into looking the other way (remember, he was around mostly adults before he started attending school) when it comes to punishing Nicky. Also, their parents donate a ton of money to the school.

Except the Great War breaks out the same year Nicky graduates from boarding school. He signs up with his school chums for “a great adventure,” like all of the other young men of means did in the opening days of the war. 

However, Booker refuses to come along. He’s studied history all of his life and intellectually knows how terrible war can be. As far as he’s concerned, the war is stupid. People are going to get themselves killed over all of these royal families of Europe who refuse to apologize to each other over the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand. He’s certainly not throwing his life away to get shot at, thank you very much. Besides, he didn’t grow up with much in the way of friends or camaraderie among the other boys while he was away at school. So he doesn’t feel like he’s going to miss out on anything. 

Nicky thinks Booker is a coward who has no appreciation for a right proper great adventure. Booker thinks Nicky is a headstrong fool who doesn’t value the opportunities their parents have given them. They part ways on bad terms. 

Booker eventually relents and writes to Nicky whenever he can. However, he never hears from his little brother. The only way he knows Nicky is alive is through their parents, who Nicky constantly writes to in Cairo. At the same time, Booker doesn’t  return to Cairo because it would remind him too much of how much he misses his brother. So he throws himself into his work at the Egyptian Antiquities department of the Louvre. He also tries to ignore the raging war moving closer and closer to Paris.

Wars come and go, antiquities do not.

Except Nicky suddenly goes missing during the Battle of Verdun.

Still in Paris, Booker is dealing with his side of suffering through the war as a civilian. He suddenly gets frantic word from his parents (who still live in Cairo) that Nicky is MIA. The panic immediately starts to set in. He regrets that he didn’t do more to communicate with his little brother while he was away at war. To assuage his guilt, he goes down to the war office every single day to find out where the hell Nicky is.

After a few frantic weeks, Nicky turns up alive but injured. As a result, he’s evacuated to a Parisian hospital. Booker takes a sabbatical at the Louvre to attend to his beloved brother there. Nicky almost dies of an infection but pulls through. Too weak to go back to fighting, Nicky is honorably discharged and goes to live with Booker to convalesce.

Nicky’s not the same vivacious, passionate young man he was before the war. He’s the only one of a handful of his unit to survive both death and not losing a limb or having parts of his face blown off. So there’s the survivor’s guilt. He constantly has nightmares about his time on the front and in No Man’s Land where he wakes up screaming. Bouts of rage and grief hit him without warning.

In order to deal with the crushing swirl of ugliness that’s festering within him, Nicky starts spiraling. He starts heavily drinking. He skips meals. He starts hitting up gambling dens and whorehouses that can make your every wish come true in Paris.

Booker has no idea how to cope with it all. So he once again throws himself into his work. He feels disgusted with himself for silently judging his brother’s actions all while he absolutely has no clue how to deal with his own guilt of not being by Nicky’s side during the war. Perhaps it would have been better to have died together than exist in the sea of darkness they are trapped within now.

Within two years, the war is over. Everyone celebrates only to see the rise of the Spanish Flu Pandemic. It ends up killing Booker and Nicky’s parents, who die within days of each other back in Cairo. 

Now, Booker and Nicky are alone in the world and with only each other to depend on. Wanting to escape all the pain they’ve seen in Paris, they head back to Cairo to put their parents’ estate in order. Since their parents split their inheritance evenly between them, they’ve inherited a hell of a lot of money. At the same time, money doesn’t fix their psychological problems.

Yet while they both have a difficult time dealing with their parents’ death and each other’s war trauma? It turns over a new milestone for them. For it allows Booker and Nicky to make their peace with each other since they're the only ones left of their family. They vow that they’ll try to go back to their dream of working together as an archeologist team.

Unfortunately, it never happens. Nicky is still dealing with the PTSD and acting out. Booker tries to manage his  brother’s psychological issues and balance his work at the Cairo Museum. Problem is, it’s a job he knows he only managed to secure out of pity since their parents were the largest donors to the museum. The nepotism stings and makes Booker feel inadequate. All despite that he's a damn good researcher and brilliant at languages and hieroglyphics.

Booker once again throws himself into his work at the museum. He has no social life, rarely goes out for fun and no relationship lasts for more than a few months at a time. For he’s grieving his parents and the shell of a man Nicky has become. Meanwhile, Nicky drinks, gambles and whores his way through Egypt in between digs with folks no better than grave robbers. But he always comes back home to stay with Booker in the nice house they own together.

Booker is always there for Nicky and vice versa. No matter how hard it gets for both of them to deal with the losses in their lives, they are and will always be brothers to the end.

And then one day, Nicky finds Booker in the Cairo museum after he’s been rejected by the Benbridge Scholars yet again. All after Booker’s ruined the library and knocked over all the bookshelves after he nearly killed himself trying to get off that damn ladder while filing away books.

Nicky reveals to Booker an odd little box that he found on a dig down in Thebes. Turns out the box contains a map to the lost city of Hamunaptra…

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

I'm not against he tian paying mo for something. or just giving him money. But I didn't think mo would say that he likes he tian's money. In the past mo hated he tian and his money but now he knows that there's more to he tian. I just wasn't prepared for mo to actually admit that he likes his money. Your thoughts?

Hello, dear anon!

I have mentioned money in the context of Tianshan a couple of times but I don’t think I have ever talked about it in more detail. As you said, there has been some development regarding this part of their relationships, too, so I thought why not take this opportunity to talk about in a broader sense.

Here are some previous posts that I think could be related to this topic:

My thoughts on the boys making HT pay

What could MGS’s “secret” be?

Did MGS hate HT in the beginning? 

HT and spending money on MGS (among other things)

MGS as a worker (among other things)

My Tianshan “timeline” (for how I interpret their development in general)

For the most part, I will be concentrating on MGS’s perspective on money and what part it plays in his relationship with HT. I feel like that’s a somewhat natural perspective to look at this topic, but we’ll see if I can get something out of HT, too.

This will be a longer answer than you were strickly speaking asking about, but I feel like I needed to take a step back, so it’s easier to see where I’m coming from when I finally do get to your question.

MGS and money

MGS is a strange mix of emotions when it comes to money. On one hand, he’s incredibly proud and adamantly refuses any handouts and charity. They might be poor but he won’t grovel. He works hard to support his mother and takes great pride in doing a good job and earning honest money.

On the other hand, money is a sore spot for MGS and he gets easily defensive about it. Being desperate for money is not only something people could take advantage of if MGS isn’t keeping his guard up but being poor is also something that is usually looked down on in society. Sometimes I get the feeling that MGS feels like he’s not only an outcast but he’s also below others.

There are a few occasions in the comic regarding MGS and money that I think are especially interesting. The first one we’re probably the most familiar with is when he agreed to take the blame for something he didn’t do and get compensated for it (ch. 154, 178, 188):

I think this spoke volumes about how deep in desperation this kid had sunken. He was basically ready to throw away his future - or at least getting the same chance at it like others - to work at a bar. I think it showed heartbreakingly clearly under how much pressure MGS was and how heavy the responsibilities had grown in his mind. Despite everything, we still have to take him as a kid with a kid’s mind, and I think this was a good example of that. I’m sure he knew what submitting to SL meant but he saw no other way than to make an almost desperate sacrifice as a child who had been taking on adult’s responsibilities. When in truth, no matter how tight they might have been on money, I refuse to believe his mother would have ever agreed to MGS quitting school and start working fulltime. MGS is proud and strives for independence and I admire him for that, but this side of him also has pretty dark downsides.

Another interesting occasion was MGS’s reaction when JY offered him a bag of money (ch. 254):

First of all - and this is something I hadn’t even noticed before - MGS’s visible, physical reaction to seeing so much cash. He was literally trembling. I doubt he had ever seen so much money. Imagine suddenly seeing something that would solve the lion share of your problems.

Secondly, the way MGS turned the money down has always been an interesting detail to me.

I wasn’t expecting him to accept the charity but I was half expecting him to smack JY in the face with the bag. Smack him with something at least. Curse and yell, full of defense. To my surprise, though, MGS seemed almost...dare I say, touched? Even a tiny bit gentle? I think JY often gets on MGS’s nerves but I don’t think he quite knows how to handle it when JY is being a good friend to him. When JY is loudly standing up for him or offering him something like that bag of money. I also think JY might have been onto something when he said MGS was running away from the situation. I would say he needed to physically get himself away from the stack of cash but also to hide what emotions JY’s gesture had evoked in him.

The last detail that has always interested me is when HT and MGS were talking about the future (ch. 305):

First of all, I feel like this is a good representation of how much not having money affects our overall mindset. When you live from hand to mouth, the “future” might be difficult to picture and something you can’t waste time thinking about. When you need to work hard just to survive for a moment, your field of vision narrows down. While not trying to get political, I think this is often lost on people who are better off and can’t see why people who are struggling aren’t “working hard” to get themselves out of the situation. 

Secondly, I think this is an interesting meeting between two opposites in life. HT has been surrounded by wealth his whole life but he’s always been lacking something deeper. All the money his family has can’t make up for the fact that he’s lonely and uncomfortable with the “meaning” his life is supposed to have according to his father. Whereas MGS feels like he has to put everything else on hold until he’s secured a stable enough ground in life. Money will give meaning by allowing him to finally enjoy life and opening opportunities to him.

However, perhaps the most interesting little money-related detail to me has always been what MGS said after that.

This panel is connected to what I said earlier about MGS feeling inferior because he’s poor. It no doubt has contributed to his spite and pride but at the same time, it sounds like he’s fantasized about being rich. He would show everyone and make them recognize him - look up at him instead of down. In his fantasies, he thoroughly enjoys rubbing his money in everyone’s face and make them respect him. I think this showed something new in MGS - something a bit childish but also what he doesn’t really share with others. What we fantasize about having in life are also often things we’re touchy and insecure about.

Tianshan and money

As you mentioned it yourself, dear anon, MGS’s views on HT having money have shifted as their relationship has developed. In the beginning, he saw HT quite one-dimensionally (ch. 155):

Quite understandably, given MGS’s bad experiences with people more powerful than him, he was very guarded towards people like HT. He put HT in the category of rich people who thought his self-worth was for sale just because he was poor. Just because they had money, they thought they could take advantage of him and make him their monkey. In many ways, MGS saw HT’s money as a threat.

One of the things HT, on the other hand, very much admires in MGS are his pride and integrity (ch. 216):

MGS was given a chance to earn a considerably larger sum by doing something that would have made him uncomfortably but he refused. He was desperate for money but he still had limits and he wasn’t about to sell himself. His pride and dignity were few of the things MGS could still call his own, and they weren’t for sale. People in HT’s world acted differently. They would sneak and cheat to get richer, and you couldn’t trust anyone. I think HT fell a little deeper for MGS when he told him why he didn’t want to model.

As their relationship kept developing, MGS started to see that HT wasn’t looking to trick him and use him. He might have had his own agenda but he was on MGS’s side. Of course, MGS still didn’t accept charity but they fell into this strange, almost illusion-like dynamics of HT giving MGS silly little tasks he could pay him for.

There’s one panel, especially, that I have always been wondering about. It’s when MGS was at the hospital and JY came to see him (ch. 246):

The way MGS reacts to JY’s complaining seems almost like he’s defending HT? Was he being like that because learning to see new sides to HT had made him see people like him in a slightly different light? That having lots of money doesn’t determine anyone as a person?

I think that’s probably very likely but I also kind of think that despite being suspicious of rich people who approach him, MGS has somewhat of a complicated relationship with that class of people. He feels inferior to them but also seems to believe that there’s no shame in being rich. Just like he doesn’t want people to badmouth him and put him down for being poor, it’s not really in his nature to look down on people just for having lots of money. After all, they have what he also desperately wants and dreams about.

Then, to finally get to your question, what seemed to be MGS’s and Tianshan’s latest development in regards to money (ch. 324):

In a lot of ways, money is about trust in Tianshan. HT wants MGS to rely on him and he wants to be able to provide in case MGS needs something. He wants to help lighten the burden MGS carries and open up opportunities in life for him. On a more selfish level, he also wants to tie them more together by offering MGS chances to rely on him. Not in a “you owe me now” kind of way, though, but rather “I want you to see me as someone reliable and trustworthy and that will help deepen our relationship”.

MGS, on the other hand, has always rejected charity and HT trying to give him money or favors without paying them back somehow. He doesn’t want to put himself in that position of owing to someone despite HT trying to make him believe that he’s not going to hold it over his head. He doesn’t want to ask for anything or let HT do things for him. All of this connects to MGS’s pride but also him trusting HT.

I didn’t really take MGS saying he likes HT’s money (or likes him for his money) in a literal sense. Rather I interpreted it as MGS allowing HT to do this financial favor for him and - perhaps more importantly - allowing himself to rely on HT like this. I know letting HT pay for the groceries didn’t seem like a big deal but I think in MGS’s case, it is definitely development. He doesn’t see HT’s money as such a suspicious threat anymore. I’m not expecting him to start relying more on HT, to be honest, but I think this showed his feelings about HT’s help and support have shifted a little.

Was I surprised by the last panel and MGS “confession”? A little, yeah. I wasn’t expecting him to say something like that. But it also made sense to me as a part of their development.

Thank you for your question, dear anon!

[malfoymanortings]

i don’t care PART 1

SUMMARY: Lavender Brown begins to find herself after Ron Weasley breaks her heart. An unlikely Slytherin helps her do just that.

PAIRINGS: to be decided. 

had to get this written as it just would not leave my mind. Lavender truly deserved better, she was just a girl with a crush. this is my way of giving her a better ending. maybe another part? depends on if this is received well.

Lavender Brown was furious with herself.

The entire time, she should have seen it coming. She should have known that this relationship would just end with a broken heart for her. Everyone knew that Ron and Hermione had, at the very least, a thing for each other. 

But Ron had chosen her. At least for a while. Really, how was she supposed to know it was all just to make Hermione jealous? And, for Ron to practice (very thoroughly, she might add) kissing and touching on someone else before he went to Hermione.

How the fuck was Lavender supposed to know she meant nothing to the boy who had meant everything to her?

Now, as she sat at the opposite table, she clenched her spoon in her hands as Ron whispered to Hermione and Harry, his eyes on her. Almost comically, the trio all turned to face her unabashed, openly staring at her for a moment before turning back to their whispers.

“She seems a bit.. Put out, doesn’t she?” Ron’s voice was never quiet.

Lavender slammed her utensil down, and swung her book bag over her shoulder. She wasn’t just going to sit here, and let them whisper about her. She could see the apprehension in Ron’s face, the annoyance in Hermione’s, and the fear in Harry’s.

“I wonder why, Ron, I would be ‘put out’,” seethed Lavender, crossing her arms in an attempt to keep her emotions in check. “It’s almost like you dated me, used me, just to get Hermione jealous.”

“Lavender, I-” Hermione broke the silence, giving an annoyed look to both Ron and Harry, the two boys silent. 

“Really, you’re the last person I want to hear from,” Lavender cut Hermione off, her gaze locked on Ron. “I deserve an apology. At the bare minimum.”

Ron was silent for a moment, his blue eyes averted from hers. “Erm, sorry.”

Lavender blinked slowly, tapping her foot. When Ron said nothing more, she scoffed. “That’s really all you’ll say, hm? You’re absolutely disgusting.”

Without waiting for what would surely be a useless response, Lavender left the Great Hall. Her anger carried her all the way to the Divination room, which was usually always empty. Yet, as she entered the room, there was someone already there, lying on one of the poufy pillows with the hood of his robe drawn over his face.

Draco Malfoy.

Lavender faltered in the doorway, unsure of what she should do. All she had wanted was to be alone, in her safe haven of Divination, perhaps read her tea leaves if she were feeling up to it. But of course, yet another male had to ruin her plans.

“You haven’t got to leave on our account,” Lavender turned to see Blaise Zabini sitting on the opposite side of the room, flicking through a weathered book. “He’ll be out for at least another hour or so, as long as you aren’t loud.”

Lavender nodded stiffly, unsure of what to make of the Slytherin boys. She hadn't had much interaction between either boy, although everyone knew them. Draco “my father will hear about this” Malfoy was the infamous Slytherin prince. Blaise Zabini was one of Draco’s close friends, and he had always reminded Lavender of an elegant renaissance painting. He moved with grace and poise, same as Draco, although with Blaise there always seemed to be an air of serenity around him. Draco, on the other hand, was the furthest thing from a picture of serenity.

Regardless, Lavender wasn’t going to let the Slytherin boys stop her from enjoying her Divination time. She was done modeling her life after what would make men most happy.

She sat furthest away from the two boys, moving to make her tea. Once it was done, she sipped it slowly, savoring the warm chamomile on her throat. She busied herself with staring at the ceiling, decorated in various runes and symbols. A few of them were recognizable enough, whereas others seemed to fade and twist in and out of each other. It made it rather difficult to decipher them.

Of course, the tea and the ceiling couldn’t distract her for much longer, and she soon found herself thinking on Ron fucking Weasley.

What did Hermione have that she didn’t? Lavender’s wavy blonde hair was properly managed, instead of a wild frizzy mess like Grangers. Lavender wore makeup, Lavender wore pretty clothes, Lavender took great care in her appearance and the way she presented herself. Lavender knew she was pretty. She was smart too, even if it wasn’t quite like Hermione.

It seemed the only thing Hermione had that Lavender didn’t was Ron’s love.

That seemed hardly fair to Lavender. She was the one who Ron had snogged rather indecently. The one he had touched, even if it was rough and… pokey, the first time. He was incredibly eager, anxious to learn, even if his first few executions were awkward and lackluster. Now, after Lavender had spent time and effort into helping Ron understand the more physical side of a relationship, he was sent off to Hermione, primed and ready to go?

How was that fair?

The sad truth was, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Ron Weasley had used her to make Hermione jealous. It wasn’t fair that he had used her body, her emotions, as a weapon against Hermione. It wasn’t fair that in the end, no matter how much she proved to Ron she loved him, cared for him, it wasn’t enough. Did he think she enjoyed all of the public affection and nicknames? She didn’t, but with Ron being the youngest boy in his family and the most overlooked, she had wanted him to feel special.

Even if that meant making a fool of herself by constantly throwing herself on him and giving him a nickname like Won Won. She had thought, making him the center of her world, showering him with love and affection, it would make him happy. After all, he was overshadowed by his brothers and Harry Potter. Didn’t he want to feel special for once?

Yet, every time he had instigated their snogging, their groping, whatever it may be, Lavender now realized it was because Hermione was in the room. Whether it be she was coming back in the common room, or innocently sitting with Harry, Ron would force himself onto Lavender. Of course Lavender would respond eagerly, she loved the boy.

Although he never loved her.

The revelation hurt her deeply, and as her chest cracked, a few tears slipped down her face. She stared into her teacup, determined to not have a breakdown while Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy (although the latter was still sleeping soundly) were around her. It wasn’t working, and before she knew it, she was sniffling quietly into her now empty cup of tea.

“Here.”

Lavender dared look up to see Blaise Zabini standing in front of her brandishing a dark green handkerchief. It was labeled with an elegant Z, and she eyed it suspiciously.

“What, did you charm it to give me a rash? Stick to my face, perhaps?” the words came out defensively, and Lavender found she didn’t care. She was tired of trying to make men feel safe and secure. Respected. They didn’t bother to make her feel that way, Ron had made that clear.

“I wouldn’t waste a hanky on a charm as trivial as that,” Blaise responded tartly, raising an eyebrow. “You’re crying, and Gryffindor or not, my mother raised me better than to let pretty girls cry over useless boys.”

Lavender took the handkerchief hesitantly, dabbing at her eyes. Sure that it was indeed just a regular piece of cloth, she wiped at her face, crying her tears. “Thank you.” Dimly, she recognized that the ever so handsome Blaise Zabini had called her pretty.

Blaise nodded. He sat next to Lavender then, looking at her tea. “Are you reading your leaves?”

“Yes,” started Lavender, pleasantly surprised that he knew what she was doing. “Are you familiar with Divination?”

Blaise nodded again, his nimble fingers reaching over to hold her cup. “May I?”

It was Lavender’s turn to nod.

Blaise examined the cup for a minute, a crease appearing in his brows. This close, Lavender admired his long eyelashes. Blaise was quite handsome, as though he had been carved from clay by the hand of Michelangelo. 

“I see a spider,” confided Blaise, setting her cup back down. “In ancient times, a spider symbolized growth, power, and mystery. Translated, the way you handle situations in your life will determine if you will be prosperous or not. The power of growth lies squarely in your hands.”

Lavender swallowed hard. She hadn’t been expecting that. “You didn’t even have to look that up.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her, glancing at her. “I usually don’t.”

Lavender wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She hadn’t been expecting Blaise to be like this. She was expecting more of a Draco vibe from him, but she found she was pleasantly surprised at his true self.

Speaking of the blond boy, he began to stir on his pillow. 

“Looks like the dragon has awoken,” conceded Blaise, standing up from his spot next to Lavender. “I’ll see you around. Remember your leaves.”

“I will.” Lavender nodded to the Slytherin boy, watching as Draco rose from his spot. 

The blond looked like he wanted to say something about her, but Blaise guided him out of the room before the blond could open his mouth. She assumed it would have been in question as to why she was in the same room as the sleeping boy, but she would never know. Perhaps it was better that way. Draco had a wicked tongue when he wanted.

As Lavender stared into her tea leaves, she thought of Blaise. She wondered if she would in fact see the handsome boy again. Probably not. He was a Slytherin. She was a Gryffindor.

And men, she had found, were utterly disappointing.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 233: At Least He Has Some Spares

Previously on BnHA: Twice made a duplicate League of Villains to take on Re-Destro. Re-Destro took this in stride and very calmly inflated his left fucking arm and slapped the whole lot of them so hard that most of them literally died. But the clone Shigaraki survived somehow and scuffled with RD for a bit while RD told him the story of how his great-great-granddad was born with a quirk and his mom was like “please be kind to my baby” and society was like “nah” and then they killed her too just for good measure. Anyway so this was of course the original Destro’s Origin Story, and his mother later on became a kind of martyr figure once society began rethinking their whole outlook on the whole superpower thing, and they even borrowed the term “quirk” from her as a way of trying to honor her I guess. But Destro and his descendants weren’t happy with the fact that quirks are still regulated and ~suppressed~ and blah blah blah, so I guess in RD’s mind this gives him justification to be a massive dick and wantonly murder people left and right. It’s all very political and complicated. Anyway, so in the end the Actual Tomura came over to RD’s tower and used his quirk and the tower came crumbling down, and now Tomura and Re-Destro are gonna fight.

Today on BnHA: We jump around Deika City getting updates on the rest of the League. Twice is currently trying to save Toga while Skeptic sneaks up on them both. Spinner is duking it out with Hanabata and his squad of Dudes With Spikes All Over Them And Stuff. We learn that Spinner’s quirk really is just “Lizard Quirk. That’s It. That’s The Quirk”, which, fine, whatever then. Dabi and Blue Bunny and Compress are off somewhere, presumably. Slidin’ Go is directing traffic and about to be flattened by Gigantomachia (or so we can hope). Giran is running off with one of the clone Twices (“running off” as in to safety, as opposed to them getting married or something. although). And Tomura is having his hand ripped off by a Hulkified Re-Destro and his newly revealed Stress quirk! Just, plucked right the fuck off, like a flower petal. It’s pretty horrific! And meanwhile Horikoshi is dipping out to go take an honestly well-deserved vacation, so there won’t be a new chapter next week. So basically just good news all around. Anyhow, so Tomura seems to have his hands full here and it may be time for him to hand in the towel and hand things off to Machia before things get out of hand even more well anyways enjoy the chapter guys.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

so once again I got an Intriguing Anonymous Ask, but I only skimmed it because it seemed to delve into some of the details of the chapter, albeit in a very vague way that probably didn’t actually reveal anything. but one thing I did pick up on was that there may possibly be a break after this week’s chapter? if so I will cry but then I’ll get over it I GUESS

(ETA: well enjoy your hiatus then Horikoshi you knave.)

anyway so let’s get into it

quick observation before I actually start reading the chapter itself -- so apparently the title is “Bright Future”? correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought we already had a chapter with that same title though. chapter 161, also known as the Nighteye Fucking Dies chapter. is the kanji slightly different or something, perhaps? if not that is odd

(ETA: so after reading the chapter, serious question: is this Horikoshi’s idea of a joke, or. ...

but yeah, the kanji is different. or rather, this chapter’s title isn’t written in kanji at all, but in katakana, whereas 161 was written in kanji like normal. as for the why of it, though, your guess is as good as mine. right now “mangaka has a fucked-up sense of humor” is basically at the top of my reasons list.)

anyways, clicking to the actual chapter now, and... oh wow

okay I think I mentioned the movie The Island a few recaps back, and my sincere apologies to everyone for making repeated references to a typically dumb and explosion-y Michael Bay movie where Ewan McGregor tries and fails to speak in an American accent and everything explodes for no reason and the protagonists cause so much collateral damage while being hunted down by the bad guys that you almost start to wonder if it wouldn’t actually be better for everyone if they did just die. but anyway, so I’m sorry to keep coming back to this movie, but -- and spoiler alert for a 14-year-old Michael Bay film you guys -- the plot is basically that scientists figured out how to clone people, and so Rich People immediately proceeded to make clones of themselves to keep for spare parts so that if they ever needed organ donors or the like, they’d have a perfect match available

and anyway, so you can see the connection here, right? basically this is a super-pragmatic application of Twice’s quirk, and I have to applaud the logic and ingenuity, but also bro that’s kind of a fucked-up thing to do though, sob. let’s just make a spare Toga so we can immediately harvest her blood, oh boy. though in fairness it is Toga, so maybe she won’t mind since Harvesting Blood is like her thing

also can we take a moment to appreciate how thoroughly wrecked this Skeptic!Puppet!Twice is, though. the one that’s just lying there dead. like, his leg’s all bent the wrong way and he no longer has a face and I fucking can’t stop staring at it though. I feel better knowing that it wasn’t actually a real person because that’s seriously all kinds of fucked up

anyway now the Twice clones are arguing over who gets to measure Toga. and Horikoshi has honestly built up a lot of goodwill with me over the course of this Mineta-less arc filled with hot Girans and LoV character development, but all the same he’d better watch himself though, because all of that could be gone just like that in an instant if he tries to get cute! so don’t push it dude

(ETA: and not to harp on this or anything, but Twice did clone Toga back during the My Basement Academia arc (in chapter 147), so there wasn’t really a need for this scene to begin with. but whatever, he didn’t really go overboard at least.)

okay good, actual!Twice (? is he the real one?? he’s the only one without a mask and he’s not using his arms so I think it’s him, at any rate) is shouting at the others to get their shit together

Twice Status: Still Hot. wow, and barely two seconds after I made that remark about Horikoshi needing to focus up. should I take my own advice perhaps. eh

oh my god

nooooo now I’m actually really upset that one of them’s gonna get sacrificed for the other! noooo Toga

and now we’re getting additional background information on Twice’s quirk, specifically about the fact that his clones’ appearances and personalities/memories are based on the last time the clone target was measured and the last time Twice saw said target, respectively. makes sense. so anyway because of that the clone Toga is also all beat up

friendly reminder that Toga is only seventeen and still just a kid, albeit a freaky sort of horror movie-type kid. but anyway, so I’m feeling really fucking protective of her though, and I need them to hurry up and save her already!

oh my god

yes, Dabi is the poster boy for great plastic surgery results. staples left in and everything. then again I don’t know how bad off he looked before, though. we still don’t actually know what the original injury was, aside from it obviously having something to do with the whole “his quirk fucking burns him from the inside out” thing we recently learned. you know what might help with that, Horikoshi? a flashback, omg

yuh oh

gonna go out on a limb here and guess that this is Skeptic coming to fix his screw-up before Re-Destro snaps his neck like so many Mitsubishis. or whatever that damn mouse’s name was. Miyashita?? actually I think that was it lol

anyways so let’s now turn the page and confirm if it actually is Skeptic

...confirmed

also, holy shit. just, holy shit to everything. that freaky close-up of the puppets’ faces; that blobby image of one of the puppets being formed; Skeptic’s crazy eyes in the bottom panel; him screaming I HAVEN’T FAILED!!! over and over again, etcetera. just, everything. good lord

and now we’re cutting somewhere else. looks like it’s Spinner and a bunch of the clone Twices dealing with Hanabata’s over-inspired lackeys

Spinner what is your quirk

okay so as he’s fighting he’s doing that shounen thing where he uses his keen observational skills to come up with a strategy on the fly

yes, please feel free to take him out! he’s annoying and he hasn’t done anything interesting, so really he’s just dead weight as far as this arc goes. feel free to use your quirk, too, buddy. if you even have one, holy shit. Horikoshi’s probably keeping it safe in the same place as Kacchan’s hero name

anyway so now he’s fighting his way through the waves of redshirts and trying to reach Hanabata’s van

he’s thinking that his job is to “lighten Shigaraki’s burden, if only a little”

awww. League of Loyal Bastards. I can’t believe there was ever a question of you possibly betraying these guys, Spinner. I’m sorry for doubting you, guy

Hanabata seems worryingly unconcerned, though

who the hell wears their watch on their right hand? what time is it, Hanabata? it’s time for you to fucking die already that’s what

-- oh

so it’s some kind of Magic Quirk Watch then, eh. should have figured as much

also, “A MAN WITH A WEAK SUPERPOWER SUCH AS YOURSELF” oh? please do tell us more about this quirk! also how is it that you of all people know Spinner’s quirk. Giran’s intel, I guess? I’m suddenly really annoyed that the Liberation Army apparently knows more about the LoV than we do. bastards

anyway so now Hanabata’s own quirk is being revealed, so I guess let’s see what that’s all about

okay so this is exactly what we all thought it was based on what we’ve seen of him so far. so I guess this weird mask is basically just a big microphone thing. imagine if his and Mic’s quirks were combined

at any rate if it’s not clear, I really couldn’t give two farts about Hanabata or his quirk and I just want to see Spinner take him out, and then have Gigantomachia show up and save Toga and Twice, and see Tomura kick RD’s ass. oh and Dabi still needs to beat up Rita’s Italian Ice too, I guess

(ETA: okay but Horikoshi would it really be too much to ask for at least one of these things to actually happen oh my god. my poor villain children.)

-- OH MY GOD

EVERYONE SHUT UP SPINNER’S QUIRK IS FINALLY BEING REVEALED AHHHH

lmao was I too invested in this perhaps. all this time and all this mystery and it really does end up being some little lizard quirk that lets him cling to walls? and this is how it’s revealed of all ways? he doesn’t even get an official Quirk Reveal Box?

I mean, this can’t possibly be it. he’s gonna do something badass and unexpected, and then we’ll get his Quirk Box and we’ll all be like, “OH SHIT! SPINNER!” and so forth. right??

(ETA: I seriously can’t decide if this will actually be the case, or if this is another Sports Festival scenario where I’m firmly expecting the typical shounen thing and Horikoshi has something else planned entirely.)

wow

as opposed to you? your power is literally just “I can get stupid people all hyped up.” it’s probably given you an overinflated sense of your own importance, and I can’t wait for you to get one-upped by this lil lizard boy with his ninja turtles costume and the tactical knife he bought on Amazon

oh shit lol

so I guess that’s as good a way as any of syncing up all of this action to one timeline again

heh Hanabata’s panicking a bit

I’m enjoying this, ngl

oh shit!

this motherfucker really popped through a magic quirk hole in the wall and grabbed onto Spinner and suddenly got all spiny just like that oh shit

AHHH

SOMEONE HELP OUR BOY, HE’S BEING PORCUPINED BY FUCKING REDSHIRTS. WHAT IS THIS

now Hanabata’s directing all of the remaining cannon fodder to go and help Re-Destro. well at least that’ll get some of them off of Spinner’s back

YESSSSSSS

GET HIM SPINNER GO FOR THE JUGULAR!!

AHHH SPINNER FLASHBACKS YESSSSS, THE MY FLASHBACKS ACADEMIA ARC CONTINUES

I’ve suddenly been struck by the urgent need to go do my dishes from last night omg. Spinner would it kill you to take the fucking trash out at least

oh shit you guys he’s making a speech!

IT’S HAPPENNIIIIIIING. go, Spinner! speech! and then kick some ass! and then Quirk Reveal Box and “OH SHIT! SPINNER!” just like we planned!!

sob why am I empathizing with this guy who’s getting inspired by Stain and then by Tomura’s “let’s destroy everything! :)” rant of all things. what has this arc done to me. Spinner I can’t relate to you at all omg. but, just like every other member of the League of Villains, at your core you’re really just someone who was searching for a place to belong, and damned if that’s not the most quintessentially human struggle of all

so to sum, you sure picked some questionable role models there but I support you, kid

sure Horikoshi, go ahead and just fling Spinner’s super-weak and boring quirk in my fucking face then! lol okay I get it! it was never meant to be some big reveal to wow us all at a dramatic moment; the whole point is that he’s utterly unremarkable, and it doesn’t matter because despite what the MLA believes, quirks don’t define who a person is. all right, all right. that’s cool then

no you dingus he’s trying to say that even if he doesn’t have a big flashy quirk, y’all ain’t shit either and he’s still going to kick your ass

-- OH SHIT YOU GUYS!!

WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM TO ADVISE YOU ALL THAT OUR HANDSOME BOY GIRAN SURVIVED THE TOWER FALL AND IS FINE AND DANDY! and still handsome! so we all can rest easy now on that account, thank god

omg omg omg

Tomura VS Re-Destro hype intensifies!!

also lmao because I genuinely think he’s asking him for real because he can’t quite sort out reality from his sleep-deprived hallucinations right now

or maybe that shouldn’t be “lmao” on my part, because that’s actually a legitimately concerning thing, there. but I can’t help it guys, he’s so tired and fully and entirely out of fucks, and RD is so fucking screwed and doesn’t even know it and it’s going to be so goddamn satisfying I can’t fucking wait

anyways, no, Tomura. he was not. but he’s apparently got some sort of Hulk quirk. so you just do your best and you sic your own Hulk on him then if need be

yessss he’s talking trash, yes, Tomura!! you’re doing great!!

IT PROBABLY FEELS BAD! I BET! HAHAHA. SUCK IT

LOOK AT THIS YOU GUYS OMG

ranged attacks and everything, now! I wonder if he’s always had this sort of capability and we’ve just never seen it before, or if this is another new development. probably the latter. those six weeks of training really leveled him up

wow even his fucking shoes are disintegrating now

so GiranTwice are getting the fuck out of Dodge, and Giran’s right arm just sort of ends in this big mess of bandages omg

don’t worry Giran, Twice is gonna get Dabi’s plastic surgeon on the job. you will be fine

holy shit you guys would you look at this fucking shounen bullshit

I’m starting to get an inkling that this will be the kind of fight that’s going to look amazing in anime form, but will basically just be a lot of flying rocks and smashing panels in manga form. and I’m prepared for that if that is indeed the case! I have not forgotten what genre this actually is, and that this is still a manga where the main character’s attacks all end in “SMASH!!!”, and every so often we get to a point where the characters who are at the center of the current conflict just have to punch it out. so I’m not going to complain

but I do hope that won’t be all there is to this, though. and ngl, I have higher expectations for BnHA’s fights than for any other manga’s fights, and I’m still expecting a few twists here

(ETA: oh lord I should just learn to keep my fucking mouth shut.)

oh shit

poor Spinner. fucking Re-Destro gets a Quirk Reveal Box before he does

also it does seem to be a Hulk quirk then, huh. so it’s safe to say that once Gigantomachia shows up and they hash things out, there won’t really be a town here afterwards. like, this entire city is about to be straight up wiped off the map. that’s lowkey terrifying to think about

-- HEY WHAT THE

(ETA: sob he looks so shocked. that’s right Tomura, it’s the hard knocks path to redemption for you too, buddy boy. probably when you go talk to Ujiko to get it patched up after the arc is over it’ll trigger some more character development somehow. just, my point is that you are an important character in a shounen manga, and so, unlike people in real life, you at least can be somewhat assured that your pain is probably happening for a reason.)

fuckING -- IS THAT REALLY -- DID THEY JUST

DID THIS MOTHERFUCKING INKBLOT HULK MAN REALLY JUST PINCH MY BOY’S HANDS BETWEEN HIS GIANT THUMB AND INDEX FINGER AND JUST FUCKING PLUCK HIS FUCKING FINGERS OFF HOLY GODDAMN FUCK

DID HE DO THAT TO GIRAN. IS THAT WHAT HE FUCKING DID TO GIRAN I’M ABOUT TO FUCKING -- I CAN’T --

IS THIS FUCKING ATTACK ON TITAN, GODDAMN!? WHAT THE WHY

THERE REALLY IS A HIATUS SOB I CAN’T. I HOPE HE HAS A GOOD TIME ON HIS VACATION OR WHATEVER, THEN!! BE THAT WAY! I KNOW YOU’RE A HUMAN BEING AND ENTITLED TO TAKE SOME TIME OFF AND GET SOME GODDAMN SLEEP AND GO TO CONVENTIONS OR WHATEVER, BUT I’M ALSO ONLY HUMAN, AND WHEN YOU TAKE MY WEEKLY FIX AWAY WITH NO PRIOR NOTICE, I’M GOING TO GET CRANKY ABOUT IT. I CAN’T HELP IT OKAY

GOD DAMN IT

fuck

sob. okay sorry guys, I’m done being dramatic now. so let’s go back and finish up those last four panels that I haven’t actually read yet orz

lol there already practically isn’t a town there anymore. Giganto you better hurry up and come finish it off. this asshole is out here playing the most vicious game of eenie meenie miney moe the world has ever seen with your boss’s hands and it’s very upsetting

who the fuck is this

lmao what. someone’s actually trying to visit the city? turn your van around, pal. we are closed for business for real here

and then our last two panels are Slidin’ Go being all punchable, and then getting shaken up by a sudden earthquake omg

I WONDER WHAT THAT COULD BE omg. :) :’D

well shit. so! 

a wild Gigantomachia approaches

Slidin’ Go is living on borrowed time presumably (good riddance)

Skeptic is trying to harass Twice again while he’s busy trying to save poor Toga’s life, like excuse you dude, no, please fuck off

Dabi is currently MIA and still fighting Dippin’ Dots while trying to keep his organs from getting any more roasted. maybe a flashback would help you there, Dabi. I don’t know how, but it couldn’t hurt, surely. I promise I have no ulterior motives in suggesting this

Spinner is trying to work out how to score a really satisfying victory to show us all that Quirks Aren’t Everything

Giran and his bandaged arm are running off to safety with Twice, which is the only thing that really matters in the end here

and Shigaraki Tomura has just had his own hand Luke Skywalkered in the manga’s latest and greatest instance of Cruelty Against Limbs. but at least this presumably means that he himself is about to get a hell of a lot hotter if Giran and Twice are anything to go by

so yeah. a lotta stuff going on. so really it’s the perfect time for a hiatus. lol

well, friends. I’ll see you all in two weeks I guess. hopefully someone will lend Tomura a hand. ba dum crash

[numberonepapermaker32]

The Book Thief review (SPOILERS!!)

What I CAN'T believe: that it took me this long to read this book. What I CAN believe: that this book is going to be that one that stays with me for years to come, one of a handful few that is going to mark my whole reading life. It's difficult to put every single thought into words. I'll try. Lately, I've been reading YA books because I feel how in my now adult age, I often forget what it was that brought me here. I don't necessarily mean events and people, but ways of thinking and doing. When I remember myself at the age of 13, I chuckle and sigh. I chuckle for first kisses, friendships, playing outside. I sigh because then, I saw things more simply and clearly. As an adult, I'm often sad and feel helpless about not being able to solve tons of problems and doubts that plague me daily. As an adult, I have work, health issues, and other monstrosities. What I don't always have, is perspective. I don't see everything clearly. I complicate to the verge of losing my mind. I read somewhere the other day how people get depressed because they see things much too clearly. Wrong. It's the opposite. Reading this book showed me just that. It reminded me how a child sees and understands things in a pure and simple way without complicating them. And that's one of the facts I liked best about ''The Book Thief''. It is also one of the most heartbreakingly devastating things about it. Liesel's simple way of seeing life and people around her while living in one of the darkest periods and one of the worst regimes in human history. Her being able to stay innocent in mind and soul. This book made me see through Liesel's eyes. Through my own childhood eyes. Brilliant. I thoroughly enjoyed having Death as the narrator. It gave me chills all the way from beginning to the bitter but hopeful ending. There were moments when I would forget who narrates the story, and then the author would gently or at times, not so gently, remind me of the fact that Death looms over me. All the time. But I don't think I've EVER thought of Death as having a complex existence, a character, or that he/she sees the world in colors! Again, brilliant. We know from the Prologue that this is going to be a sad story interlaced with beautiful moments. I mean, Death tells us so constantly. Still, every ugly thing that happens surprised me and made me pause for a while. Could I have expected this from a book set in WWII Germany? Yes. Could I have braced myself better? Not really. That's one of the main points I got from the story. Another thing I loved was the rich symbolism behind a light language. That gets me every time. It takes a skilled storyteller to manage to pull that off. Not that many actually do. Zusak does. He's a master storyteller. Inserting ''Mein Kampf'' into Liesel's books, having Hans play the lavish and nostalgic accordion amidst the chaos of war? Breathtaking. There's a feature on goodreads and book blogs on recommending a book to your friends who would like it. I recommend this book to all my friends. To everyone, really. EVERYONE should read it!! The political climate behind the public discourse in our country is certainly not light. For years on now, there's been talk and tolerance of oppressive regimes. Read this book, people!! And when you finish it, pass it on first to all of your family and then your friends and so on... Don't let this fictionalized experience which undoubtedly has root in reality fall on to deaf ears. This book is meant to be read and re-read. We are never meant to forget the horrors of our human race. We are never supposed to forget all the countless little book thieves whose families died for someone's greed or politics. They were many. Too many... Here are some of the quotes I found most thought-provoking, but just some. There are oh so many... ''They were French, they were Jews, and they were you.'' ''The human heart is a line, whereas my own is a circle, and I have the endless ability to be in the right place at the right time. The consequence of this is that I’m always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both.'' ''If there was one thing about Liesel Meminger, her thieving was not gratuitous. She only stole books on what she felt was a need-to-have basis.'' ''At first, Liesel could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him? It’s likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her.'' '' 'How about a kiss, Saumensch?' He stood waist-deep in the water for a few moments longer before climbing out and handing her the book. His pants clung to him, and he did not stop walking. In truth, I think he was afraid. Rudy Steiner was scared of the book thief’s kiss. He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So hard that he would never ask for her lips again and would go to his grave without them.'' ''I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sandcastles, houses of cards, that’s where they begin. Their great skill is their capacity to escalate.'' ''The best world shakers were the ones who understood the true power of words. They were the ones who could climb the highest. One such word shaker was a small, skinny girl. She was renowned as the best word shaker of her region because she knew how powerless a person could be WITHOUT words. That’s why she could climb higher than anyone else. She had desire. She was hungry for them.'' ''There were stars. They burned my eyes.'' ''How could he show up and ask people to risk their lives for him? How could he be so selfish?'' ''On Munich Street, a boy and a girl were entwined. They were twisted and comfortless on the road. Together, they watched the humans disappear. '' ''You are going to die.'' ''Kommunist.'' ''[…] at some point on time I will be standing over you, as genially as possible. Your soul will be in my arms. A color will be perched on my shoulder. I will carry you gently away.'' ''He'd have been glad to witness her kissing his dusty, bomb hit lips.'' ''It kills me sometimes, how people die.'' ''From the toolbox the boy took out, of all things, a teddy bear. He reached in through the torn windshield and placed it on the pilot's chest.'' ''In short, Himmel Street was flattened.'' ''Although something inside her told her that this was a crime - after all, her three books were the most precious items she owned – she was compelled to see the thing lit.'' ''When a Jew shows up at your place of residence in the early hours of the morning, in the very birthplace of Nazism, you're likely to experience extreme levels of discomfort. Anxiety, disbelief, paranoia.'' ''Beneath her shirt, a book was eating her up.'' ''The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this. Without words, the Führer was nothing.'' ''Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children.'' '' 'Is it really you,' the young man asked […]. Is it from your cheek that I took the seed?' ''