#yeah i actually have a backlog of edits i forgot to post here

[xx-rememberthepast-xx]

but you won't save me

[makeste]

BnHA Smash!! 01 and 02: Smash!!Might is a Fucking Menace

okay, so. I have about a million other things I should be doing instead, including (1) responding to asks and/or finishing in-progress metas, (2) reading Vigilantes, and last but not least, (3) actually making a dent in the ever-increasing backlog of Actual Work That I Really Should Be Doing Instead.

so naturally I’m procrastinating by taking my first stab at reading BnHA’s cute 4-panel omake spinoff series, BnHA Smash!! IT JUST MAKES SENSE. look, I have exactly one thing I felt like actually doing and not procrastinating today, so I might as well do the thing. basically it’s my attention span’s world and I’m just living in it.

anyway! so apparently this series was scanlated by good ol’ Fallen Angels. that’s right; prepare yourselves for some very creative cursing, fellas. other background info for anyone who, like me, is unfamiliar with this spin-off: this series debuted on November 9, 2015, a little over a year after the original series. said original series was currently at chapter 66, meaning the Final Exam arc was just wrapping up.

so now that we’re all properly oriented, let me go over a few disclaimers real quick and then we’ll get started!

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

I’m aware that not everyone may be familiar with Smash!! even if they’ve read/watched the original series, so I’ve tried to make this recap comprehensible even if you haven’t read the spin-off. that being said, it’s probably more enjoyable if you have, so you can either purchase the first volume from Viz here, or read the chapter online (I don’t want to link directly, but the spin-off is available on most of the usual sites. literally just google “read mha” and you’ll find some good options).

this readthrough contains a handful of sorta-kinda spoilers for the BnHA manga, although there are no direct spoilers. just an indirect reference to a joke in chapter 242, as well as a reference to a theory which as of now is in no way canon. but just to be on the safe side I’m posting a heads-up.

and I think that’s it! so here we go.

so we’re opening with a brief summary of the series. people have superpowers and shit’s nuts. you know the drill

there’s also a brief description of the way that the superhero economy works, complete with Mt. Lady’s employees unionizing and demanding better pay

...what

guys I keep staring at this and thinking that surely, SURELY it doesn’t say what I think it says. sidekick... what... manager??

you know what? Viz unfortunately doesn’t include this series as part of their subscription package (WHAT AM I PAYING YOU FOR, VIZ), but it does at least include a free preview of Smash, and I bet you that this, the first fucking page of the series, is a part of that preview. so... let’s see...

okay, see, this actually makes sense! so did the FA scanlating team collectively all have a fucking stroke?! just, what??

this is one of the reasons why I had difficulty reading Vigilantes too, tbh. those early chapter scans were, uh. but at least Vigilantes has a Viz scanlation too. I don’t want to spend 10 bucks just to read one volume of this, but we’ll see. anyways

so now there’s a strip about baby!Izuku watching his favorite clip of All Might saving one hundred people from a bus accident or whatever

lol Inko you should not have left your shrewdly calculating four-year-old son unattended omg

TWELVE MONTHS’ WORTH OF TEXTBOOKS HOW CAN THIS EAGER YOUNG MIND RESIST

and this is why you don’t leave your credit card info saved on the computer when you have kids. life lessons learned today

this is the first indicator we have ever had that baby!Izuku wasn’t perfect and was, in fact, capable of being a little shit and giving his mom plenty of gray hairs in his own special way. ngl, I fucking love it

also 12,800 yen is about $118 USD, which is honestly a really good deal for a year’s worth of textbooks. he got three boxes of books! I just googled the average cost of college textbooks, and the google article said the average student spends about $1200 a year. so this is a fucking steal tbh

OH MY GOD INKO HOW MANY TIMES MUST HISTORY REPEAT ITSELF BEFORE YOU LEARN

at least install a fucking adblocker ffs. you’re lucky quirk supplement ads are the worst of the ads he’s getting! PARENTAL CONTROLS

now we are cutting to a comic about baby!Izuku defending another boy from my problematic fave, as seen in page one of the original series!

lmaooo

I’m not clear on how much of this spin-off can actually be considered canon. my understanding is that it is Horikoshi-reviewed and approved, even though he doesn’t actually write it. but it’s obviously a humor series, so a lot of it is just going to be jokes. that being said, I think my approach is going to be “if it’s not completely ridiculous and doesn’t contradict the actual manga, go ahead and consider it canon”

(ETA: I might change this up after reading the first two chapters. most of these strips would have terrifying implications if they were actually canon sob.)

anyhoo, this actually does contradict the manga in that we saw this encounter play out very differently. but I kind of wish it was canon regardless because looool. these cocky preschoolers and their fucking Battle Tears

the next comic is Mt. Lady accidentally stepping on a guy’s face and the guy being way too fucking happy about it (read: having a fucking nosebleed and taking an upskirt shot). we’re just going to skip this entirely. this is another problem I was having with Vigilantes too. you know, for all my complaints about Mineta and such, BnHA as a whole is so much tamer than it could be, and I need to give Horikoshi credit for that. he mostly knows where to draw the line, and to his credit he’s also much, much better about this kind of thing than he was when he first started. maybe Mineta’s standings in the character poll results are helping to clue him in

anyway, I’ll mostly just skip past the iffy stuff because I don’t have patience for it and there’s still plenty of other stuff to cover. so on to the next strip

which features a bunch of reporters fawning over Mt. Lady’s flashy quirk while Kamui Woods laments in the shadows

and yet we know this kid will have a prominent rise within the next six months. it’s so strange to revisit the start of the series and see how much things have changed in such a short time

oh my god

no one who dresses up as a giant mushroom could possibly have good intentions. I. just

and look at the fucking disappointment in Deku’s eyes. KAMUI WOODS HE BELIEVED IN YOU!

now some strange man is coming up to Deku and is all HEY YOU, YOU’RE A HERO OTAKU, TELL ME WHAT TO BUY MY SEVEN-YEAR-OLD SON FOR HIS BIRTHDAY. better not ask him unless you’re prepared to shell out $120 bucks for some fucking textbooks

hey, what!!

WE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO SEE WHAT HE BOUGHT HIM? unless it’s the action figure the kid appears to be holding? but I’m just going to go ahead and assume Izuku recommended the number one best gift that any seven-year-old child would love, i.e. a giant sword

now it’s a sludge monster omake!

so Izuku is trudging home all depressed after CERTAIN INCIDENTS, and Sludgey is glooping his way out of a sewer towards him

oh no All Might

my biggest takeaway from this is the fact that the entire second half of chapter one takes place after All Might has emerged from a fucking sewer. I forgot all about that somehow. or maybe it never fully processed until just now. but omg. this entire chapter must have smelled so fucking bad. these poor kids

wow All Might

sure called that one wrong. ah well nobody’s perfect

looooool

lmao, Smash!!All Might appears to be quite a bit more vain than the original. wow dude

btw, friendly reminder (and I think this is something that was actually pointed out to me after one of the recaps; that’s one of my favorite things about doing these) that All Might, after saving Deku, actually read his notebook before signing it. super-fast, I guess, because he’s the best. but yeah, so he knew exactly how smart and observant Deku was, and how much he wanted to be a hero. his decision to pick him as his successor didn’t just come out of the blue; even before the “my body moved on its own” thing, there was a lot Deku had going in his favor. this is one of those little details of which BnHA has so many, and which I love

lmao what the fuck

ngl this version of the series would have been amazing in its own way. but yeah. so this is why we clearly can’t assume everything in Smash!! is canon lol. but I can already tell I am going to enjoy the shit out of this series

now we’re cutting to Deku running at Sludgey in order to save Kacchan, oh shit. the most dramatic part of chapter one. clearly no moment is sacred

sob what

I don’t understand this strip at all. is this supposed to be a serious moment inserted unexpectedly among this multitude of joke strips? or did I miss the punchline? heeeeelp

(ETA: okay so. my best guess is that All Might wrote all over Deku’s life-saving advice, and so the joke is that Deku no longer knows what to do when assaulting sludge men because HIS NOTES ARE RUINED. idk. what does 25 P mean??)

now All Might has Done The Thing and saved my boys, and now Mt. Lady is helping with the cleanup. scooping up all the bits of sludge and putting it in trash bags

oh my god

nope nevermind. nope. nope

-- shit. okay, you know what? this first chapter has been a real in-your-face reminder of the fact that the sludge monster was not made of cute sparkly 2018-trending-fad slime, but was in fact composed of RAW FUCKING SEWAGE. (ETA: to be clear, I’m pretty sure the joke in this strip is that she accidentally picked up dog-doo during her clean-up. but still, the fact that it was indistinguishable from the rest of the gunk speaks for itself.) I think I forced myself to gloss over this fact originally due to the nope factor. but just. Izuku and Katsuki were both choking to death on this shit?? and just, how the fuck did they make it out of this not traumatized

and also, like. All Might was straight up going to leave Izuku alone afterwards, just, “well enjoy your autograph, fine citizen” and blasting off out of there. and everyone fucking saw Katsuki almost suffocate to death later on, and after giving him a pat on the back they fucking let him go off on his own too? and you can’t even make the argument that this was Just Another Day In Quirk Society either, because more than a year later, Katsuki is still a bona fide fucking celebrity from the media coverage of his attack. it clearly was not something that happens every day. in conclusion, these kids are resilient as fuck, and thank god for that because people apparently just do not give a shit, holy christ

anyway. at least Mt. Lady had gloves

OH MY GOD

I FUCKING KNEW IT OH MY GOD. THE ROIDS. MUSCLES LIKE THAT DON’T JUST GROW ON TREES, I DON’T CARE HOW MANY LBS OF GARBAGE THIS KID HAULED OFF THE BEACH. THIS BOY BEEN HITTIN THE JUICE

Smash!!Might is so fucking shady omfg. probably sells cheap counterfeit electronics on Amazon

oh shit and that’s the end of the fucking chapter lol. that’s it?? that was only eight pages. fuck it, let’s read another. but first here’s Horikoshi’s note on the spin-off

so he really feels that Neda gets the spirit of the series and understands him. that’s very encouraging. the best spoofs and parodies are done out of love. I really think I’m going to enjoy this series

so! onward to chapter two

so here’s All Might dressed as Mr. 2 Bon Clay from One Piece, I guess??

“you know what’s funny? dressing a man in girl’s clothes LOL.” guys can we grow the fuck up. and also acknowledge that All Might can look good in anything, so this questionable gag wouldn’t have even landed anyway. you work that tutu All Might

lmao check out the past users of OFA here

All for One for All theory fucking confirmed lol. just look. that’s him in the back of the conga line. clearly

so Deku is all “hell yes why would I possibly say no??” but then

HIS LIMBS. lmao. sign here

in all seriousness, given the shit this kid has been through since the part of the series, All Might probably should have gotten him to sign a liability waiver of some sort. not that it would have stood, since Deku is underage! anyways Deku you totally have grounds to sue the shit out of the Symbol of Peace should you ever choose to do so. and the trend of Smash!!Might being shady af continues yes please give me more I love it

so now All Might is giving Deku his fitness plan which has a really elaborate name

given that this is Smash!!Might, I can’t help but wonder if this plan is in actuality some sort of MLM scheme. All Might are you trying to get Deku to do Herbalife

lol what in the fuck

the original series skipped right over a hell of a lot, it would seem. like the time Deku traveled to Arizona and fought coyotes in a poncho

I’m starting to suspect that Neda-sensei might be on some sort of substance. “let’s see what jokes can I make about chapter 2 of BnHA. I know, I’ll send the protagonist to a fictionalized version of the American Southwest in a sombrero, and then turn him into a 65-year-old oil tycoon.” naturally

lmao that’s really it, that’s the strip. moving right along. okay??

now Izuku is staring at the intimidating piles of Beach Trash and is all “I HAVE TO PICK ALL THIS SHIT UP?”

omg Deku no

somebody call Marie Kondo. Deku none of this is salvageable. not even to reuse in a color page photoshoot spread four years from now

OH SHIT

PROVED ME WRONG OH SNAP. SHOWED ME RIGHT WHERE I COULD PUT THOSE SASSY TAKES. MY BAD DEKU I’M SORRY

anyways I don’t know what Smash!!Might is so upset about. he probably wove some kind of clause into the contract Deku signed that allows him a percentage of the profits. unless Deku already spent it all on textbooks

what the fuck is this fucking series lmao

time for a round of “what is All Might casually crushing in this panel?” is it (a) a cardboard box, or (b) like, a mini-fridge or some fucking shit. IT COULD BE EITHER. IT MAKES EQUALLY AS MUCH SENSE EITHER WAY. “HEROES THESE DAYS ARE [FLEEEEEEX] OBSESSED WITH BEING FLASHY” 

holy shit no wonder he ran away to the Sierra Nevada. it’s only a matter of time before this freak fucking kills someone

NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO KAMUI WOODS DRESSED LIKE A DAFFODIL, IN THE SAME FUCKING COMIC STRIP, BECAUSE REASONS

my jokes about the mangaka being high as a fucking kite when he wrote this are gradually becoming less jokes and more serious inquiries??

lol so he coincidentally just stumbled across All Might and Deku at this exact moment

AND IT WAS A FUCKING REFRIGERATOR OH MY FUCKING GOD

do you guys remember during the final exam when All Might beat the everloving shit out of Deku and Kacchan, and everyone was all “JESUS CHRIST WOULD YOU LEARN TO FUCKING HOLD BACK A LITTLE THEY ARE CHILDREN YOU MANIAC.” but now we can see plain as day that he was, in fact, holding back. anyways Smash!!Might is terrifying as shit and if this had been the main series I would have already pegged him as the final villain by this point

here he is now wearing an old-timey bathing suit but looking more like an escaped convict than anything else

this panel is actually canon. I’ve decided. this 100% definitely happened at some point. especially the swimsuit

now two bikini babes are walking up and they’re all “IS THAT ALL MIGHT??” with excited sparkly eyes because they don’t know that he’s actually a deranged con artist who crushes refrigerators like empty soda cans. this spin-off has truly opened my eyes

LOOK AT THIS SKEEVY FUCK. JUST LOOK

AND NOW HE’S RUNNING OFF AND LEAVING DEKU TO DROWN IN EXHAUSTION, SON OF A

“SUDDEN BUSINESS” KSJLDKF SMASH!!MIGHT IS A FUCKING MENACE TO SOCIETY AND ALSO DOES NOT GIVE ONE SINGLE FUCK. NOT ONE!! HE’S OUT THERE FUCKLESS, AND NO ONE IS SAFE

now Deku is approaching his mom all serious and says he wants to change up his diet

and she’s looking at the menu he prepared all impressed and thinking that she might join him. as long as it’s for your health, Inko. if this manga starts making jokes about your weight, I will beat it over the head with Deku’s textbooks

OMFG

THIS WENT IN THE EXACT OPPOSITE DIRECTION I WAS EXPECTING, AND THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING THING I’VE EVER READ WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. the whole fucking family is on the juice. and the fucking mangaka is on some special juice of his own oh my stars

now we’re cutting to Mt. Lady stomping on a car

thank fuck no one was actually in there. also does she not wear shoes

and also, it only just occurred to me that she must be another person with a special quirk costume, because her suit shrinks and expands along with her. Hagakure and Momo are really getting shafted by the costume design team here. they need to fire some people

anyway so Mt. Lady slipped on this carelessly placed vehicle and fell down and crushed an entire building whoops

bruh, you think you’re “ow.” let’s hope that building was empty too

and now she’s toppling another building just fucking because, I guess. and saying she can’t do urban areas

lmao and now the sidekick [CENSORED] manager from chapter one is back to guilt-trip her omg

I need this man to show up in every freaking chapter. please. respect my wishes

and now Izuku is standing on top of his collected pile of garbage screaming in victory

I only just realized that there’s still a big old Pile O’ Trash on this beach, though. someone needs to haul all of this junk away. or else get All Might and Mt. Lady to crush it all with a combined effort

oh shit here it comes y’all, the famous “eat my hair” scene. potential comedy gold right here omg

lol what the fuck

this man is a fucking billionaire and he’s out here clipping coupons and deleting pictures of his son in order to make room for them smdh

okay now we’re doing the hair scene

oh. oh no. I know where this is going sob please keep this comic rated PG for the children Neda

motherfucker they really --

Smash!!Might is a straight-up felon. this man has no fucking scruples. that’s okay Midoriya-shounen, if you don’t want to eat my hair we could just try some REDACTED, jesus christ I am going to need some bleach for my eyes after this

OR LET’S JUST STRAIGHT UP GO THERE WHY NOT

lmao sob. well, two chapters in and we’ve established that no territory is off-limits here. it’s a brave new world. wow

 so that’s it! our introduction to BnHA Smash!! I enjoyed it a lot and I will definitely be reading more! I’m not sure what kind of schedule I’ll keep, but this is a really good procrastination manga thus far, so knowing me I might actually work my way through this relatively quickly. especially since the Manga At Large is on break this week. anyways my deepest apologies to the many people who have been requesting for me to start Vigilantes instead. I just need something lighter right now, and this is a good fit. one of these days I’ll get my shit together with the other two spinoffs as well.

[princessyennenga]

The Left Hand Rocks the Cradles - Chapter 2

Previously ...

Scott adjusted his blazer around his shoulders with a shrug.

“Someone with your talents should just accept that offer at a larger, reputable and profitable paper where she can build on the potential for a career legacy. Instead of chasing followers, likes and shares.”

After another 30 minutes, Iris had filled more pages with notes and quotes about the new hospital wing. After working this room, and Scott working her nerves, she was ready to wrap up this assignment. Then the message notification jingled on her phone and re-energized her. It was Barry. Instead of texting a reply, she stole away to a quiet spot near a water fountain and called him back.

“Hi Babe. So good to hear your voice,” Iris breathed.

“Oh yeah?” she could hear Barry’s face open up into a smile on the other end.

“Of course. You're my sunshine,” Iris laughed lightly, still touched that he appreciated her love so much.

“I do my best. So I take it that means your press conference and tour went well?” he said. Iris could hear the clink of heavy glass in the background. A young girl's voice rasped ‘Daddy. Dad! We don't have enough nitric--’ For a brief moment, Barry was distracted, probably by Nora wanting to ‘help’ him with his backlog of cases.

“Hang on just a second Iris, OK?” Iris gave him gave leave to help their daughter, the time traveler, get situated to begin her first round of analysis and reports for the day. He returned with a sigh.

“Just had to get Nora --”

“Situated, yeah, I understand. Listen, you’ll probably need to supervise her, so I’ll let you go --”

“Not so fast, Mrs. West-Allen!” he chided softly. “Catch me up on how things are going. I know you were wondering if Scrat Evans was going to show up …”

“It’s Scott, Barry,” Iris corrected, only half sternly. “And we agreed to take the high road about me having to see him for work every now and then, right? We're not going to be seventh grade about this?”

“Oh yeah! High road. Completely!” Barry assured so earnestly Iris could feel green eyes widen and his head nod. “I mean, I have no reason to dislike the guy. Feel bad for him, actually. Denied!” 

“Barry ...”

“He couldn’t even get a second date … and that coffee at Jitters was technically a story meeting, and not … ”

Just then Iris saw an elegant Black woman with thick salt and pepper hair, cut stylishly short, come into view just 20 feet away.

“Barry, I promise to fill you in when I get to S.T.A.R. Labs later,” Iris said. “I just spotted Theresa Merkel, and she would be good for the article.”

After Barry signed off with few endearments, Iris adjusted the strap of her large tote bag over her shoulder and bobbed through the crowd until she reached Theresa Merkel.

“Mrs. West-Allen. Hello again,” Theresa nodded calmly. “I didn't realize your coverage included the healthcare sector.”

Iris and Theresa exchanged greetings, but not too many pleasantries or small talk. Still, there was no awkwardness between them as Iris got straight to her questions.

“Mrs. Merkel, there was a small footnote near the back of the expansion budget report --” Iris said.

“The budget report?” Theresa was taken aback. “But financials are confidential. How did you obtain …?”

“Just. Connections, I guess,” Iris shrugged.

“And incredible resourcefulness! Well, continue.”

“It was a $13 million line item denoted by ‘PM’ …” Iris said. As she talked, Theresa’s mood shifted noticeably, but not toward hostility. She nodded slowly and took a soft, deep breath, and for a brief second Iris registered a very similar feeling to the one she read from Cecile when Jenna had kept her up for much of the night.

“Yes, well. A $13 million budget item, in my view, was a starting point to address some of the issues that have come to light in Central City recently,” she sighed. “I was not the only hospital board member to realize that many lives have been touched and changed in many ways. More than we can understand.”

Iris looked slightly puzzled, but before she could ask any more questions, a well-built man, fashionably bald, came along and looked eager to steal Theresa’s attention. Theresa recognized him instantly, as ‘Donovan,’ and excused herself from Iris. ‘More than we can understand’ echoed in Iris’ mind as she shook hands with several more hospital staff members while making her way to the coat rack. Most of the journalists for the city’s two largest newspapers had already fled to their offices to write up what they considered fluff pieces before moving on to meatier stories. Their hospital items might get boiled down to a full-page story in the Picture News, or a quick photo story leading the City section of the Central City Tribune, the city’s premiere broadsheet. 

The phrase was reminiscent of what Barry, or The Flash, then The Streak, had told Iris during their first rendezvous on the Jitters rooftop. As she tried to pry out of him how he could do what he did, he answered

‘There’s more to this than you can understand.’

Iris had felt slightly challenged by his answer. How did he know what she was capable of understanding and what concepts were beyond her grasp? His answer, almost a dismissal had fired her curiosity to really dig into who he was. It led Iris to a world of metas.

Barry was right when he excitedly drew a circle around that dot on his equation board in circle around that dot on his equation board in his CCPD lab. The particle accelerator had opened an entire field of science that Central City, and the world, were just beginning to explore.

‘Fully understand.’ Was Theresa Merkel saying that there is a $13 million pediatric meta research facility here? At the children’s hospital?! It was a theory that, if proven to be true, would impact the lives of every citizen of this city, population 1.7 million. A story like that would finally put the Central City Citizen on the map as more than just a “citizen journalist” blog, or “amateur researcher’s” blog or … the “how funny” blog, as Iris had overheard a few hardened career women describe her publication at networking events.      Iris pulled her jacket off the coat rack and rushed out of the hospital. She had her own fluff pieces and bigger stories to plan.

After an easier ride away from the hospital, Iris was energized. She stopped at Jitters to find a quiet, familiar spot so that she could focus. She ordered a chai latte and a small scone, then settled into a favorite spot near one of the tall windows. The winter sun easily reached through bare trees and poured through the uncovered glass windows, warming Iris so much that she had to shake off the duster that she wore over her long-sleeved, wrap silk blouse. She set her phone to 'Do Not Disturb' and opened her laptop. After almost an hour, Iris sat up high in her chair and stretched. She posted a 750-word story to Google Docs for her freelance editor, Julie Greer, to pick up and review. Then she picked up feature stories a couple of college stringers had turned in: a profile on a tattoo artist, and an organization bidding for a paralympic training camp. Over the next 90 minutes Iris swiftly edited the two stringer’s stories and passed them to Julie for a second read. Then they would be placed in the queue for posting, both to the main Web site and to subscribers’ e-newsletters. Another 30 minutes went by as Iris checked emails: a programmer had sent a link for a sample redesign; Emmet, the commission-only ad sales rep had great news about a rideshare service and fashion subscription Website.

And then a peculiar message: one from Theresa Merkel. Actually, her executive assistant. Iris leaned closer to her screen and craned her neck, taken aback at the outreach. Just as she had clicked it open and begun to read it, her video chat app intruded.

“MOM!!” Nora’s brown eyes wide with agitation, blocked the message. “Dad and I have been trying to reach you for the past hour. Where are you? What’s going on? Why is you phone going to voicemail??”

Then Barry’s face slid into the frame, his brows furrowed and his eyes peering into the lens. Iris suppressed a laugh behind her hand. Her adorable nerd husband forgot -- again -- that lenses do not always give up the secrets on the other end.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Iris uncovered her mouth. “Work got away from me a little bit.”

“Hey, no schr---!” Nora fired back.

“Nora!” Barry’s stern tone checked Nora’s language, but not her exuberance.

“Of course. Sorry Mom. But we have lunch plans, remember?” Nora said, glancing back at Barry. “You can’t just go offline for half the morning and not let us know. It’s like Dad says, ‘all family plans come first’.”  

Iris launched into a flurry of apologies as she snapped her laptop shut and collected the pens, notebooks and papers fanned out on the table. Just as she stood up and slid into her duster and camel hair coat, Iris heard the sound of a toddler giggling and babbling. She didn’t see a child, but noticed a brownie float off of another patron's plate, who was so distracted by her own phone that she barely noticed the brazen theft. Then, a young woman bustled past Iris' table, looking frantic. The alarm in the woman's face crested when she saw the dessert seemingly float away on its own. The young woman smacked the food away, causing it to hit the floor. She feigned clumsiness and apologized profusely to the woman who was sitting behind the empty plate, slapping a bill down on the table to pay for a replacement. Iris' interest is piqued when she noticed the young woman looking at the front door, as three more customers pushed the door wide open and walk in. The young woman hurriedly followed the swinging door and looked around. Then, thinking that no one had noticed her, she crouched down and appeared to grab thin air with her hand.

“Barry, Nora, I might be a little late for lunch …”

“Iris, come on! I haven’t seen you all day,” Barry took over the video chat while Nora was in the background grabbing their jackets. Of course, he had seen her just several hours ago, that morning, but to a speedster a few hours felt interminable. 

“Is it the blog relaunch,” he asked, “because you have to be careful not to overwork yourself.”

“No, no Barry, I’m on to something here,” then Iris lowered her voice to a whisper. “Of the *dark matter* variety …”

“Oh! Look, Iris be careful …”

“I will, I will,” Iris said hurriedly, and began to follow the young woman outside from a safe distance. “Look, Barry I have to follow up on this, but I’ll fill you in when I see you a little later. For lunch. Promise.”

After a round of “I love yous” Iris dashed off. She followed the young woman down a busy street, which was beginning to thicken with lunchtime crowds. Every now and then her arm appeared to lift away from her body, tugging her wildly. A couple of times the young woman stopped and looked around her, while Iris hid in a doorway. Finally, the young woman turned at the entrance to a quiet alley, where she crouched down again. She spoke quietly but firmly to *someone* until the air in front of her shimmered and a small child, about three or four years old, appeared. The young woman sighed and spoke to the child again, stroking his arm warmly. Then she took the child by the hand and they walked to a luxury sedan, where she buckled him into a carseat. Iris stayed out of sight as she watched the mother hand over a juice box before buckling herself in and pulling away.

[calleo-bricriu]

(( Another conversation-in-the-comments with @absintheabsence thing I converted; slight editing for clarity and all that. Original post was on Sept. 9th and the year in which it took place 1990. It’s, like, 90% fluff which is my favorite sort of thing. ))

"I really ought to consider getting up at some point." Calleo hadn't been speaking to anyone in particular so much as he was thinking out loud. He'd never been good at laying about and doing nothing, even on days off.

"Don't." So he WAS awake. Honestly, with Grindelwald it was difficult to tell sometimes.

Calleo blinked and, as he hadn't yet started to move, there wasn't much of an issue in staying where he was, “Fair enough. It’s quite comfortable now that it’s no longer actual straw.”

"If I’d allowed you, you would have made it goose-feather or worse. Anyhow, isn’t this meant to be the ‘day of rest’ for you heathens?”

“Feathers poke." The statement was dry enough, but mitigated by the laugh that followed it, "And I AM resting. Sort of. Still laying down at any rate."

“You can spend the day in and out of sleep, if you like. I won’t disturb you.” That offer struck Calleo as mildly unsettling, sleeping when he knew the only other person in the room would be awake was just--odd, regardless of who it was.

“Oddly enough, I’m not particularly tired, just–lazy, I guess.” The shrug he offered turned into more of a stretch.

“More than fair; you’ve certainly earned the right.” A curious statement, earning the right to be lazy, of all things!

“I’d say I agree if half my mind wasn’t still needling me to get up and do something.” This time, Calleo was only partially speaking in jest. It was his mind, after all, that rarely let him relax or, at least, relax while doing nothing that could be measured in terms of productivity. Years of bad habits break hard, after all.

“I can tell it quite directly to hush and let you alone.” What Grindelwald said didn't sound like a threat, it didn't even have the undercurrent of a threat, yet it still somehow was vaguely just--a tiny bit threatening. Control over his own mind was not something Calleo was ever keen to hand over to someone else.

Access, sure, but not control.

“You can," he began slowly, "but I doubt it’ll listen. It’s easy enough for me to ignore, if nothing else.”

“Good. If it grows more persistent I’ll have to do something about it.” It still wasn't a threat. A threat would be more direct, would it not? Definitely not a threat just--some kind of mild chiding, maybe even teasing. But, not a threat.

“I’m usually all right with ignoring it–mostly–on weekends." Maybe he'd stop suggesting taking control of the blasted thing now if that sounded placating and good natured enough, "Still might try to get a little more work done this afternoon, though.”

An exaggerated sigh is heaved, eyes turned up toward the misty heavens above. “I suppose, if you really must.”

Calleo blinked owlishly and, for the moment, forgot all about the 'I'll make your mind behave if you can't'. When he finally found his voice again, the question was nearly entirely laughter, “Did…you just roll your eyes at me?”

“Nonsense. I did nothing of the kind.” A mock-offended answer, of course.

“I CAN see without my glasses," which he pointed to, sitting on the desk across the room, "you know. They’re only for reading small print. But, all right, I’ll leave it until tomorrow.”

“Ah- of course you can. I’d forgotten. Hm.” A silver head nestled into Calleo's chest. “Very good. I’m pleased.”

“You’re a bit like an oversized cat, you know. I figure if I don’t leave it until tomorrow, you’ll just knock my coffee," which was now probably just going to end up cold, "off the table out of spite.”

“I never dreamed you had such a talent for Legilimency.”

“I can manage if I really give it a go; that one was just pattern recognition though,” the answer was a short laugh, “The rug might protest if you did, however.”

“How I’d hate to lose its esteem.” A dry, vaguely sarcastic reply but that was to be expected.

“It might try to trip you," Calleo pointed out, "I seem to recall it doesn’t like having coffee spilled on it. That's what always got it to try and trip me, at any rate.”

“Really the last thing I need.” The previous time Grindelwald had tripped had resulted in mildly fractured bones in a couple of places and that hadn't been much of a tumble at all.

“Assuming it can hear somehow, if it trips you deliberately, I may just set it on fire.” The rug inched subtly away, scraping a little on the stone floor.

“I said IF!" Calleo deliberately looked at the moving bit of carpet, "It has to know that if it sneaks away like that it was probably thinking about it.”

“Or you sounded very sure in your threat.” He chuckles low, pressing a kiss or two where he can reach. “My brave champion.”

“It wasn’t a threat, more a statement of fact. If it trips me, I’ll just purposely dump coffee on it out of spite,” he snickered in response, “Yeah, brave enough to tackle a seventy year old rug!”

“Well, now, I doubt tackling it would do you much good." It was a chastisement, but a playful one, "That would only serve to place you far closer to the floor than I know you’d want.”

“As though I’d get into a physical fight with a rug. That’s only slightly more absurd than getting into a magical fight with a rug.”

“You’ve managed to keep me in bed all day and into the night. I do enjoy laying around as we are.” It definitely would have been a lie to say that Calleo’s mind hadn't frequently wandered back to exactly how much work he wasn't getting done that needed to be done before Monday morning but it had become clear some hours ago that that was not going to be a thing that happened today.

“I think it’s just wonderful. I can scarcely remember anything like this sort of ease. Well done, spirit; you’ve successfully seduced me into comfort.”

“What an awful thing, being able to relax a bit.” That coffee on the table was definitely stone cold by now.

"Halte den Mund. You know perfectly well that it's more than that."

“I’m aware. It is nice." After a moment, an oddly excitable sounding question, "Guess how long it’s been since I’ve not worked for an entire day?”

“Infancy?” Grindelwald didn't even attempt to hide the sarcasm behind that answer. Not even a little.

“I’m not counting things I wasn’t getting paid for," he waved the sarcastic answer away, "If I were it’d probably be since I was 11. Otherwise, 23.”

“Seven years, yes? Auspicious.”

"Mm. Just over, yes. The backlog always bothers me. It was worse before I got there and even with mostly competent staff, we’re still only up to 1986.”

“Needless to say I have every confidence in you. If anyone can grapple with the needlessly complex…” he trailed off.

“Two of my three can keep it going when I’m out. The third–would be able to if he spent less time being mad about reporting to someone thirty years younger. He spends probably 80% of his time being mad about that."

“If you can master a will such as mine, his should be no great feat.”

“I’m pretty sure he wants to fight me, actually; mostly on account of him saying so. And I don't want to master anything about him, I want him to do the job he was hired to do, which he should be doing without needing to be forced into it.”

Grindelwald laughed at that, shaking his head. “I relish the thought of how very sorry you could make him should the fool get what he asks for.”

“It’s probably for the best that I don’t want to deal with the paperwork hassle.” Now, Calleo fell silent for a few minutes, “Could I ask you something, out of interest?”

“You can ask, yes.”

“I’ve seen you make comments now and again about how you were "beautiful then”. I’m curious as to why you seem to believe it belongs in the past tense.“

The look Calleo received was utterly blank, uncomprehending. “Put your blasted spectacles back on, Bricriu.”

“All right,” he did exactly that, after summoning them back over from the desk across the room, “Not sure what difference it’s meant to make; still think it’s definitely a present tense thing.”

Grindelwald sat up abruptly. “Enough flattery. You scarcely need it now.”

“It isn’t flattery. If it were flattery, I’d be trying to convince you that you looked the same, wouldn’t I? Feel free to rifle through my head if you’d like to see for yourself–and lie down again.”

The old man only growled at him. “I can stretch my back, can’t I?” He doesn’t look. He couldn’t be sure he would know what to do with what he might see.

“Is it bothering you again? Your back, I mean,” Calleo reached out to run his hand over the other's back, “You do realise that I only said I find you beautiful, right? Not that you look the same as you did fifty or so years ago.”

“My hearing is perfectly fine, thank you,” he said testily, making an abortive move to bat the hand away but not quite following through. “And it aches a little, nothing that needs seeing to. The scarring likes to twist now and again. Readjust.”

“You know what’s funny? A few years back a Muggle showed me some techniques that can loosen or break up the adhesions that cause that to happen. It’s surprisingly not painful, though it does produce some unsettling crackling noises. I could have a go, if you’d like,” that offer was more rhetorical than anything and there was strong indication that he intended to have a go anyway, “And, just to avoid an argument you’re not going to win, there’s not a thing you can say to change my view of you. I love how you look.”

“If it’s the sort of thing that’s meant to reduce the size or the shape of it I’ll do more than produce a few unsettling noises," Grindelwald still sounded more than a little testy, “You could live here day and night for a hundred years and I could never begin to understand the, the twist in imagination that would bring a mind like yours close to such a thought as that. And I have been mad for some time now; you’ve seen me raving.”

“Oh, no, it won’t change the size or shape of anything; it just removes adhesions to the tissue below. That’s usually what causes them to remain a bit painful, especially when moving,” he sat up finally and moved to be, as usual, half curled instead of sitting like a normal person, behind Gellert, “I’d be a bit cross if you did anything that’d change or remove any of mine, after all; wouldn’t dream of doing that to you.”

“I’m not mad and neither are you,” Calleo placed his thumbs side by side atop one of the scars, pressed fairly firmly, and made a slow back and forth movement, inching along the lines of it, “we both have our moments, certainly, but not mad overall. It’s not imagination either, mine or yours. I can see you well enough and clearly enough, and it doesn’t change my view of any of it. I quite like the view from every angle I’ve seen it.”

“Thing is, for as much as I know you could sit and watch me do nothing at all, I could easily do the same with you,” Calleo's tone had shifted to absently but still pleasantly conversational as it often did when he was speaking while working on something else.

Gellert hissed and then swore as his companion began the work of pushing through the gnarled knotwork of tissue that was by now almost a century old, the lines etched into him bone-deep. He said nothing as Calleo spoke, and continued to speak. When the old man’s eyes screwed tight, however, the trace of moisture in them had nothing to do with the painful cracking, loud as a whip, between his shoulder blades, or with the nails digging into his palms.

When the response was silence, Calleo shifted a bit to more easily reach around and tap one of Gellert’s hands, “I don’t need to use them both; it works just as well with only one.” He kept his hand resting lightly over the other’s, “There’s pretty clearly a story behind this one. If you’d like to tell me, I’m happy to listen; if you’d prefer not to, I completely understand, and will not pry.”

He seethed a breath, but ran his thumb over Calleo’s still- such beautiful hands, so clever, so vicious, so gentle, so merciless- “I was seventeen. It was the first of its kind ever to be drawn in flesh like this.”

“Does it do anything? Or was it just an indicator mark?” He paused, trying to figure out how to best move the areas where different shapes touched; a movement in one direction or another wouldn’t have been quite right, and he opted for small circles instead, “It’s not in a spot you could have reached on your own. Do you mind if I ask who did it?”

The air shudders even as it’s pulled into his lungs, bright things burning behind his eyes when he shuts them. Triangles and circles and lines. “It was long ago. We were boys, he and I. A great many of my ideas began their life inside him."

After a pause, “To this day, he has the twin of this mark.”

“I’m not entirely sure why, but none of that surprises me,” Calleo kept kneading at the area, “Does it do anything? Communication wise, specifically—or was it just more of an identifier?”

“When it was fresh… yes, a little. Sympathetic sensations, temperatures. A key to easier Legilimency, possibly. The effects- did not have the time to be tested fully." Grindelwald paused, “It isn’t just a brand, you know. Look closely. There’s a form of ink there also. Keep on the way you are and surprise may well find you by and by.”

“Oh, I’ve read about things like that before." Specifically, he'd heard quite a lot about the brands Voldemort's Death Eaters all carried but thought it best not to mention that part, "Never really looked into doing anything of the sort though. Does it still—ah—work? Or are you not certain?”

“I would never presume to try. Not now, and not ever.” His eyes hard as he turned to catch Calleo’s in their gaze. “I suppose you can guess what two boys drunk on their own power and impossible promises used for their ink, hm?”

“Fair enough, especially not knowing if it’d be welcome or not,” a slightly sympathetic smile, “I could guess, just based on what I already know.”

“I also know this is an uncomfortable topic for you, to put it lightly, and I wouldn’t wish to pry if you’d rather I don’t. I also won’t lie and tell you I’m not curious.”

“I will tell you this. Never convince yourself, as long as you live, that another man’s blood belongs under your skin. No mortal man is worth the utter wreck it has the power to render you. Once ‘always’ has run its course, my dear, even the possibility is an unbearable humiliation."

“I think you have guessed his name. In my madness I may even have said it before. All I ask of you, Calleo, is that you take this knowledge with you to your grave, such as it will be.”

“I’ll assume whatever it is we’ve done that lets that Astarte react to you now is significantly different.” That was the only very mild indication of 'hey, that would have been a useful thing for you to have said five days ago before you did exactly that and not five days after the fact'. Now would not have been the best time to bring that up. Some other day, perhaps. “You have said it, and you needn’t worry about it ending up in a gossip column somewhere. Private conversations are private, after all.”

“Oh—though, it’s not going to have caused anything to happen with what I’ve been doing, is it?”

“No. The distance is too far.” He lays his hand atop the other man’s, and falls silent.

“Would you like me to stop for now?” He does at least pause long enough to lean around and give Gellert a kiss on the cheek. “Should you ever wish to talk about any of it just to get it off your chest, I’m always happy to listen.”