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hwaightme · 1 year

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Feels Like Home (part 1)

(part 2)

pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader genre: fluff, slight angst, doctor!seonghwa, graphic designer!reader, slice of life summary: What is home? Perplexed by this notion, you spent many years looking for your own answer, moving and running from your past. Your new neighbour, Park Seonghwa, might just be the key to discovery. wordcount: 5.7k warnings: language, mentions of food, mentions of the pandemic, anxiety, mention of past abusive relationships a/n: thank you all so much for the love <3 beyond grateful for you, and am inspired by you! Here is a work on the longer side, so I will be splitting it into two parts, stay tuned~

You lucked out. After having spent over two years migrating from one disastrous excuse for an apartment, to another, you finally felt like you could relax. No more leaks, no more creepy crawlies threatening to fall right on your face in the middle of the night… you shuddered at the memory; no more landlords that enjoyed screaming down the phone at you… you could finally achieve your domestic dreams and lounge at home to your heart’s content.

The apartment itself was on the more ‘compact’ side, located on the ninth floor of a complex in a quiet residential area. The living room, dining room and kitchen were combined, but not overwhelmingly so – everything still had its own area, and in no time did you set up your rather wild collection of plans by the sliding windows. Since the building was fairly new, you did not need to invest much in any repainting or cleaning of the apartment, and by the grace of the landlady who took a liking to you, the deposit was equally reasonable. It was almost worth it going through all the terrors after university, just to appreciate this place.

This was the place that made you understand why some people never wanted to leave their house or area – to be frank, you were turning into one of them. Only leaving on the days you had to, your hybrid work as a graphic and brand designer was becoming better and better, and finally you managed to get rid of the nickname your colleagues gave to you: “true businessman”. Your old place had gotten you used to spending some nights in the office common room, just to avoid the seedy neighbourhood, cracking walls and windows that were threatening to fall out at any second.

Really, it was heaven and earth. What was another very welcome change was the difference in neighbours. Whilst before there was that one elderly couple down the street that ran a tteokbokki stall, sure, they couldn’t exactly make you feel continuously welcome and safe, not when you quite literally had a loan shark knock on your door that one time, and then go “oops sorry wrong address, keep your money in a bank, kid”. Since that day you became the most loyal out of your friends to filling out taxes and budgeting.

In this apartment complex, there was the receptionist downstairs who, without fail, would give you the most reassuring nod humanly possible and then with a rough clearing of the throat, would go back to solving puzzles in the newspaper he subscribed to. There also was the family of four, man and wife and their boy and girl, who lived right down the corridor from you (and who you did hear on occasion, but this was nothing) – total sweethearts, the types of neighbours who left you alone, but in a good mood. And of course, him.

Park Seonghwa.

Lived two doors away and across the corridor from you. Worked as a junior resident at a hospital. A dream of a man. You two clicked instantly; maybe it was the circumstances of your first meeting that did it. You, in an oversized puffer coat, scarf wrapped up to your very eyes and a hat completing your disguise, only the crinkling of the plastic bag in your hands revealing why you were out and about at two thirty-five in the morning. Him, eyes slightly bloodshot, beanie tugged off to reveal a mop of black hair, and what looked to be a while lab coat protruding from layers of rained-on outerwear. Needless to say, both of you made quite a fascinating impression.

“So, what did you cook up in the labs this time of night, good sir?” you tried, too sleep-deprived to not fulfil your need for entertainment.

“Probably something that you were buying, good madam.” Seonghwa shot back at the speed of light, spinning on his heels to face you. You had stopped him right when he was about to unlock his front door. You noted the smirk that was appearing on his lips, and at that moment you decided that he was your type of man.

In your full incognito Mr. Stay-Puft glory you sashayed over to your neighbour, reaching into the bag and taking out a tightly packed cylinder.

“No wonder kimbap is so addictive.”

“Oh no! Not the ultra-classified prototype! Society is in danger!” raising his hands up, acting every part the diva in a low-budget, trashy horror flick, Seonghwa began to charm his way into your heart. So you did what no introvert had ever done before and, upon loosening your scarf slightly, took the risk and… introduced yourself.

“L/N Y/N. Your neighbour from… that door over there. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You bowed your head, momentarily concealing your shy smile.

“Park Seonghwa. The neighbour you just intercepted, and the pleasure is all mine.”

That night you had also made the gutsy move to offer to snack on the kimbap together, which led to the pair of you having one philosophical discussion after another all through the night, ranging from the basics like ‘how come we did not talk a single time until now’ to the more insightful ‘what hope of yours would you want to reignite’ to the showstopper ‘why was there sound in the Star Wars intergalactic battles’. Probably the last one could be considered your first argument, but you were adults who knew how to communicate over even the most critical matters.

Steadily, you and Seonghwa became practically inseparable and were orbiting around one another even if outside of the complex. Your work schedules somehow complemented one another, and where he had to work night shifts or catastrophically long hours, you would be ready with a comforting meal and a completed chore or two – otherwise mundane and tiring but seeing a grown man giggle because he heard you took the trash out was beyond and became your choice of entertainment. Likewise, if you had project deadlines or particularly stressful client negotiations, Seonghwa would be right at your door, ready to take care of, quite literally, anything you would point at. Not that your friend from college would ever find out, but he was the one texting her back about what laundry detergent she should buy.

As time went on, you also got to see each other at your worst and lowest. His transition into being a full-time medical doctor was met with crash courses in intense epidemiology and volumes of patients unprecedented to him. Returning home after days of barely sitting down and intermittently losing consciousness for minutes of sleep had become a horrendous routine at a certain point. Seonghwa had crashed just about anywhere one could think of. His apartment, yours, even the corridor. And every time, your heart broke just a little, and you would climb close, flinging his arm around your neck and shoulder, and be his guide to a haven.

Though you would never understand the exact pain he felt, nor what he had to see out there and what choices he was forced to make, you tried your best to support Seonghwa how you could. Need more personal protective equipment? You were on it. Need hand sanitiser and antibacterial surface cleaner? Done and stocked up. Need to sit on the floor in silence for an hour and wait until the cacophony of the day stopped echoing in the mind? You were always ready.

It was the night of the 3rd of April, yet Seonghwa did not feel even a little bit happier, nor smarter, nor like he had the right to celebrate. For the most part, he had suppressed the fact that it was his birthday, instead pouring himself out at work until he could barely stand. At that point, like an automaton he followed the command of the doctor on call and trudged home, to the complex. He fell asleep twice on the metro, nearly missing his stop, and could barely walk up the tiny hill that now seemed to be a mountain.

He was fed up. Everything was too much. His own body was an unbearable load he had to carry. How did he fall victim to the illusion that the life of a doctor was one where he would feel gratitude and honour? The longer Seonghwa studied and worked, the more confident he became that no one ever said thank you to a medical professional. No, only blamed them. Blamed them for mistakes they did not make. Blamed them for the risks they did not take. Blamed them for when they tried their hardest, but that still was not enough.

Seonghwa thought of his family. How proud they were when he left his hometown to pursue his dreams at a prestigious university in Seoul. It used to bring him joy to think that the next time he would return for the holidays, his parents would show him off to anyone they could, and his brother would give him a congratulatory pat on the back and share the words ‘I knew you could do it, little bro’. He desperately wanted to return to the time when he still knew little about the field, so that it would not yet be tainted by the true colours of the world.

The wind was unusually cold for April, as though the winter had decided to return for a spring break. The young, fatigued man was fighting a losing battle against the gusts which did little to prevent tears from welling up. Not much longer now. One foot in front of the other. He was attempting to encourage himself to get across the little square in front of his building. In a confused panic when he almost lost his footing because of a hidden rock on the path, he raised his head, pleading for something better than this. Searching for a light.

There it was. A warm hue. Cheerful rays housed in four walls, hinting at a life behind the curtains. The sun that set only when you decided. The windows of your apartment, facing the square. He could imagine you swaying to whatever new release you had discovered, humming along to mask that you did not know the lyrics, cooking away. That was his guiding star.

In brighter spirits, Seonghwa managed to make his way to the ninth floor, where he was promptly greeted by your front door opening, and you in an oversized hoodie inviting him over for dinner once he was done with his second de-scrub and cleaning. Relief washed over him. After you had officially met and cemented yourselves as more than just neighbours, you had been nothing but kind and understanding of him. His work-induced lifestyle did not matter much to you, and you had not commented a single time that he should ‘change his ways’ or ‘go into a different field of medicine’. Over dinner at a local restaurant Seonghwa had explained to you his dreams of being a neurosurgeon, and you had merely lit up in admiration and commended him for his determination and strength.

This evening, too, you were right there for him. Once he had cleaned himself up and was at your door, he was greeted by an array of dishes that you had painstakingly been preparing for a few hours. From the traditional miyeok-guk to pajeon, you had done everything in your power to celebrate Seonghwa, even if it was just for a little, until midnight. That was when the swelling of his heart became too much, and he collapsed onto one of the dining chairs, head in his hands. The tears that had been on the verge of falling for the hours he was working were finally set free, and he could not help but want to hide.

You were taken aback. Never before had you brought anyone to tears. Especially for doing something that you would consider nice. But your intuition told you that there was something more to this, you were not one to judge. Seonghwa had been under pressure for an astonishingly long time, and his ability to still function blew you away. You did not know his whole story, but you wanted to ensure that he could get the happy ending he wanted.

Silently you poured the fragrant seaweed soup that you made, trying to follow a variation created by a cook from South Gyeongsang province, and set the bowl in front of him. You sat down across from the birthday boy. When he failed to move, you nudged his elbow with a plate of danmuji you had bought. When he finally looked up at you, eyes watery and red, you mustered your brightest grin and whispered:

“Don’t over-salt the food, Seonghwa, I want you to try it as is.” Hearing his chuckle was music to your ears. You reached over to pass him his cutlery, and before moving away, softly squeezed his forearm in reassurance. The gesture was meant to be brief and non-invasive, but Seonghwa had other plans and wrapped his fingers around your forearm, letting time stand still. He was aware that you were in a relationship with some good-for-nothing, so did not overstep any boundaries (though his body was screaming at him to act), but the touch had triggered a shutdown of his rumination. Right there and then, he was home.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He released you, only to pick up the spoon you provided and dig into the soup.

“You are very welcome, Seonghwa. Happy birthday.”

Not long after that, about a year and a half of you knowing one another, your neighbour turned closest friend had comforted you through loss of love; something you had initially attempted to hide, seeing as the loss Seonghwa had to witness day in day out was gut-wrenching on a different level, but he wanted to hear none of it. That same moment that he had managed to pry out of you the reason for your melancholy, he called into work claiming an emergency day off. He had stormed into your apartment with a mission to make you smile at least once, or at least to make you feel lighter – he did not have to try too hard, you had to admit. Part of you was certain that it was exactly because you had Seonghwa you could walk out of your ex-boyfriend’s apartment with a smile on your face.

The waves of bitter regret had hit you only after you came home. Replaying every scene in your head, you never thought yourself to be the one who would, one, be able to put up with someone, in retrospect, so judgemental for a total of three years, and two, be the one who was cheated on and then cussed out. The magical world of the new apartment complex you lived was shuddering under the heaviness of your dark mood.

The few weeks before Seonghwa had fully committed to treatment had passed agonisingly slow, with you hurling your phone across the living room in an attempt to silence the spam from your ex and existing on mere inertia. Getting up because you had to. Breathing out of habit. You had been struggling to keep your focus during meetings and had notified your team that you were to be exclusively online for the next couple of weeks due to being under the weather. By grace, your boss was more than understanding. And that was when you stopped being bothered to draw your curtains or to take care of yourself. Your ecosystem rapidly decreased in size until it was mashed into your apartment. Seonghwa was the one to see the signs. You were convinced that it was because he was a doctor and thus had a sixth sense, but he did not dare explain why he was acting the way he was. At least it was not the right time.

You healed fast. And got back into the pleasant lifestyle of amiable banter and housekeeping with Seonghwa. However, a few things had definitely changed since overcoming the various plot twists life had thrown at you. Probably one of the most obvious ones was that neither of you were hesitant to share stories about one another to your respective circles. Moreover, both of you would chat away even when unprompted, which had earned you a few sighs already. To express gratitude and satisfy your curiosity for where Seonghwa worked, you surprised him by bringing him a boxed lunch he had been raving about. This had set off a couple of rumours about you, though they were dispelled very quickly by your neighbour’s squadron of ambitious, wild, and hilarious doctors. They were quick to state that you had ‘old married couple energy’ and were asking if you could adopt them so they could get good treatment too. While you were laughing, you failed to notice the proud and warm grin that danced on Seonghwa’s lips and made his dark eyes gleam.

This was your shared rhythm. Your shared feeling of home.

☼☼☼☼☼

“Hey, do you need me to pick anything up on the way home?” your neighbour asked, his voice turning static for a split second as you switched the call to speaker.

You were currently hidden away in your home office – a tiny closet of a bedroom that you had converted to something of a studio for your creative deeds. So far, it was simply a desk and chair facing the window, a shelving unit housing random prototyping and art materials as well as being a pedestal to a potted English ivy to your right, and an overfilled corkboard to your left. As Seonghwa had commented, it was a manifestation of your creative and professional self. Truer words could not be said – it explained why you were constantly thinking of ways to update the interior.

As you repeatedly dragged and clicked with your mouse, scrutinising the vector image you were in the process of designing, you mumbled your resident partner in crime a response:

“I think I am good for now…”

“Really? So, we are just going to brush over the fact that you ran out of onions last week?”

You chuckled. The name under which you had him saved, ‘Mother Hwa🖤’ was very appropriate right that second. Nevertheless, these were the moments when you felt the most at ease. There was someone taking care of you, even though you were away from your childhood home, away from your old friends. There was someone right beside you, who you knew would return any care and affection a thousand-fold.

“See? You somehow know the contents of my kitchen better than I do. Please bestow some more knowledge upon me, dear Mars bar.” You countered, not looking away from your screen to pretend like you were still concentrated on work and not a soft mushy mess.

“Well… there was that one seasoning you had… you know the one in the red packet with the TV show host guy randomly in the corner and-” you tilted your head at the sudden pause “…since when am I a Mars bar???” you had to purse and suck in your lips to prevent a loud giggle from spilling out.

“Because you are a snack, Seonghwa.” Your success at a deadpan delivery sent the man on the call into a state of ‘error.exe’, even though the joke was outdated and highlighted how both of you were not quite the peak of modernity among the youth.

Before you had attained the status of singlehood, you were a lot more reserved with your jokes and flirtation, and understandably so. You had not wanted to appear to be a player, not give anyone false hopes. Seonghwa had to admit that it had been slightly easier to talk to you when he felt as though he had no chance. Now, more often than not, your comments reduced him to nothing more than a pained expression and flaming cheeks. Believing that there could be something, a tomorrow, hell, a whole future with you, really sent him into a mental frenzy.

“…okay… then I won’t get you the bbungyeoppang that is on sale since I am enough.” He whispered. Nothing much, but a shiver still ran down your spine at the sudden sultriness in his enunciation.

“Why not spice things up and add a plus one, especially since they are so willing?” you countered, mirroring him.

“Oh you- ah sorry, I have to drop the call, duty calls. Hongjoong is asking for a consult. Then I’ll pick up the groceries on the way, see you later Y/N.” Seonghwa rushed, jolting you back to reality. That’s right, you were still in your tiny room, in front of your set up, hand hovering above the mouse.

“Sure, got you. See you later, Seonghwa!”

As soon as you ended the call and watched the phone screen fade to black, you spun around on your chair, doing a miniature wiggle dance. These domestic interactions had never failed to give rise to pure glee within you. It was a tad unconventional to be pretty much sharing living space with someone who, technically, was just your neighbour, but it felt more than right. Oh, the wonders of having powered through life struggles and global crises together.

While you continued to work away at a brand re-design portfolio deck, Seonghwa was left standing in one of the many passageways of KQ Hospital where he worked. This particular one was almost fully glass, connecting the emergency centre to the main building. Whenever he felt like shooting you a quick text or to slow down after doing rounds and more training, Seonghwa would come here. To some degree, the location reminded him of the apartment complex – people bolting across, on a mission, never stopping to admire the setting sun that the glass captured, turning the linoleum floor into a carpet of glistening gold. People greeting each other with a curt nod, posing as good colleagues when in fact they had no idea what the other’s name was, nor why they felt obligated to follow societal norms and not ignore one another. Seonghwa, too, was guilty of this, especially in his first rotations when everything was a huge blur.

At one point he had even ceased to reach out to his friends – those in the exact same rotation and doing the same shifts as him, let alone those with whom, on top of exhaustion, there were other excuses. Funnily enough, it was you who pulled him out of this pattern, preventing him from losing himself and who he held dear. You reminded him that even in this vast world where one can never quite know anyone’s full story, you can find those whom you wouldn’t mind co-authoring with. One of these people was Hongjoong, his best friend since the first year of medical school and colleague he could count on. The shorter man was standing at the entrance to the passageway, arms crossed, his mobile phone dangling between two fingers.

“No wonder I couldn’t call you, Hwa. You were flirting with Y/N again.”

“Come on, man, I wasn’t flirting.” Seonghwa waved his friend off, hiding his phone in his scrubs.

“Then what was it, digital first base?”

Seonghwa could imagine the mischievous expression on Hongjoong’s face, one not dissimilar to that of a dad figuring out that his son was talking to someone in a very happy tone. Sighing deeply, he chose to not look to his side and continue walking, hands in his pockets. Seeing that the joke did not quite land, Hongjoong backtracked and added:

“If it is going to make you actually respond to me, I can start paging you, I don’t mind. I have gotten pretty good at dialling up the numbers at lighting speed.” This made Seonghwa shudder and turn dramatically.

“Oh, you would not dare, Kim Hongjoong, I am still getting flashbacks from the time the senior resident just decided to give me three pagers on a Friday night shift.” He proclaimed, placing a hand on his chest.

“You’ll deal with it, better train those nerves up for when you become a neurosurgeon.” Hongjoong poked him in the arm, then fell into the same stride as his friend.

That was how it had been through out the years they had known each other. Through thick and thin, on caffeine or suffering through withdrawals. They had sworn to support one another through the thorned path that was medicine, and somehow had managed to deal with each other’s nonsense. At this point they could be called brothers, having only moved into different apartments by mutual agreement to not drive each other insane 24/7. Interestingly, their opportunity to spend some time apart, forming their own habitats and lives not directly related to careers and studies, had enabled them to be even better attuned to each other’s changes. This was how Hongjoong knew you were someone who Seonghwa could rely on. In a matter of weeks after ghosting those closest left and right, he had walked into the staff common room with an apologetic smile and coffee for all his friends who he had gathered prior. And, upon being taken aside by Hongjoong for a miniature interrogation, brushed any suspicions and hypotheses aside, only saying that ‘he had found home’.

Needless to say, when the bond between you two began to grow stronger, and you had, evidently, not left his side for the duration of the worst parts of the pandemic, nor did Seonghwa abandon any hopes as he had previously done when it came to even hints of relationships, for Hongjoong you were instantly approved. Bonus points for having returned the next day after bringing Seonghwa lunch that one time to feed his friends too. It was frustrating that his best friend was not yet aware of the necessity to make the final move and make things official. For a doctor he was unbelievably thick in matters of love, or was a classicist and was afraid of rejection.

“You know…” Hongjoong began as they were approaching the elevators, “I think you really need to seal the deal, Hwa. Time goes by fast, and it is unfair to both of you if you don’t neither time nor the feelings you obviously have.”

Seonghwa expected that this conversation would happen at some point. His friend knew him too well. Maybe even caught him looking at your pictures that he had saved on his phone in a separate album of his gallery. He took a deep breath and shrugged, pressing the button to call the lift.

“True, but at the same time, things are going so well right now and-”

“Hate to rain on your parade, buddy, but that is how you messed up with your first girlfriend. And your second… oh wait a minute, even the blind date I set you up on did not work out, guess why?”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Fine.”

“No, you ‘don’t got it’. I can see you are scared. But you know why? Because you are being given a chance by the universe to hold onto something so precious and fragile that you know you cannot be the same without. But your self-doubt and anxieties wake up and torment you, day in day out, saying that you cannot step up and be responsible and commit.”

Seonghwa fell quiet, all attention on the painful monologue that was cutting up his psyche into small pieces, arranging it into a clearer bigger picture that he was trying to hide from himself.

“Take this, if you were not ready to step up, you wouldn’t have her as your emergency contact – don’t ask how I know. And, and you sure as hell would not be rushing home after a day shift just to make it to the bakery she likes. You would not be so worried for her even if everything was okay and you would not drop everything just to help her. You, my friend, are denying what is so blatantly obvious and is right in front of you that I seriously want you to call ophthalmology.”

“I swear, it is almost as if I was the one who called you for a life consult.” Seonghwa retorted as they watched the numbers blink in ascending order.

“See how lucky you are? Doctor Kim is blessing you with love wisdom for free.”

“Yeah… yeah… And I am trying my best to apply it.” If only destiny was so kind so as to give him an opportunity to just… get the awkward stuff over with and be able to wrap you in his arms – he was getting ahead of himself. Again. Seonghwa ran a hand through his hair. Way to go, declaring to another doctor he was ‘self-soothing’. He cleared his throat and decided to fully switch topic.

“Now, oh wise one, what troubles did you wish to talk to me about?”

“Oh, okay, so there is this one patient, complaining of episodes where their surroundings start spinning uncontrollably and they get a splitting headache and waves of nausea-”

“Vertigo?”

“Exactly, care to check it out?”

“Sure, lead the way.”

They ambled onwards, having fully moved on from conversing about you, however Seonghwa was still clouded over, pondering what you were up to. He was meant to have a full day off soon, and his infatuated self was inclined to conjure up plans exclusively involving you. But first, this patient…

You had not moved much in the time of Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s chat, nor for the two hours after that. Having found the perfect position in your chair, you were an unstoppable force, bashing out page after page of innovation for a re-branding that a late-stage start-up had requested. Their market focus reminded you of Seonghwa. Neuro-something or other. Maybe you should show him a sneak peek of one of your designs, just to see what the impact would be, though the non-disclosure agreement was hanging right above you like a guillotine. Yet another cause for your having been accustomed to asking well-crafted questions about your neighbour’s day – patient confidentiality was not too far off, style-wise. Like serif and sans serif fonts. Or two font families that could be mish-mashed together and no one would mind.

It was obvious that you had spent far too long doing some ‘font shopping’, as you liked to call it. Another hour, to be exact. However, you pushed the initial wave of guilt away pretty quickly, reminding yourself that, thankfully, this, too was part of your job. You yawned and stretched, taking a look at the time.

“Right, time for a snack!” you exclaimed out loud, and with a huff pushed yourself to your feet.

It was already getting dark outside, and temperatures were dropping in true autumn fashion, so after much deliberation you settled for a decaffeinated latte and a yogurt you found in your fridge. You moved to your sofa and turned on some random drama to play in the background while you zoned out scrolling for inspiration on your phone. After not finding anything too impressive but liking things for the sake of it, you clicked on your own profile to reminisce on the memories you captured. Funny how more and more of them appeared to involve the doctor next door.

After you proudly deleted any traces of your ex from social media, you vowed to be careful about the people you included in photos. So, none actually revealed the identity of be it a shadow or an extra mug or the holder of a ticket, but for you each scene was crystal clear, and replayed with ease. There was the picture Seonghwa had taken during your ‘supposed to be spontaneous but was planned weeks in advance’ getaway to Daejeon – you looking particularly cute while scrutinising an exhibit at the museum of art. There was the snapshot from one of your late-night trips to the convenience store, when you two were snuggled in oversized hoodies, sprawled on plastic chairs. And one of a completed Lego build, completed in three hours, mainly with you observing and searching for any stray piece that had gone flying across your neighbour’s living room.

You were also glad for the time you had to move on. You had a problematic relationship previously, you had to admit, and rushing into anything more would have had you repeating patterns you did not want to remember. Yet now, all you were hoping for was for a new chapter. An evolution of what you had been cultivating. Your instincts were telling you that you and Seonghwa were approaching a sort of crossroads, or a breaking point, and depending on what decisions you two would make, your future could be rewritten, and the world around the apartment complex either bloom or wither.

It was not that complicated a conclusion to reach – your ex had been bothering you incessantly with messages, voicemails and even direct messaging on social media, leading you to block him almost everywhere. He was going through the usual routine of pretending to care for your wellbeing, demanding attention and then on a night when he was probably shitfaced, saying he loved you and then proceeding to call you a whore. Prince charming indeed. You were disgusted that you had ever associated yourself with that sorry excuse for a man.

Tonight was no different. After deciding to post a ‘throwback’ story, he was back. It had been months since you last shared a full conversation, and it appeared that he was more communicative than ever. Was this what the memes you had seen online were talking about, where two people in a breakup often had radically different grief processing schedules? You were tired. You wanted to forget what and who you had moved away from. You wanted to build your new home in peace, and here was a ghost, howling and wishing to haunt you.

[do not answer!!] hey

[do not answer!!!] I know you are seeing this, you have read receipts on

[do not answer!!!] Y/N… come on I just want to talk things through

[do not answer!!!] I don’t think we have ever really had a chance to go over things

[do not answer!!!] you know, understand each other’s perspectives

[do not answer!!!] Y/N! seriously give me a chance I want to just TALK

[do not answer!!!] anyways, I am on my way to your place so… I guess talk soon?

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sarucane · 7 months

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OFMD Spiral Parallels 5: The Unicorn

Intro: What I love most about how season 2 builds on season 1 of OFMD is the spiral narrative structure. Ground is repeatedly and explicitly re-trod from season 1 to season 2, but in season 2 everything goes deeper than season 1. Meanings are shuffled, emotions are stronger and truer, and transformation is showcased above everything. The first season plucks certain notes, then the second season plucks the same ones--but louder, and then it weaves them together to create a symphony.

---

In the first season of OFMD, the unicorn figurehead on the Revenge is associated with failure. Like Izzy says in season 2, it just doesn't do its job in season 1: it doesn't keep an eye out for danger on the horizon, it doesn't act as a guardian of the crew. It's a failure.

More specifically, the unicorn is Ed's failure. Ed who tried to be this larger-than-life figure in Blackbeard--a mythical monster, a kraken, a unicorn--but just couldn't cut it because he's a person, not a myth.

When Ed first appears on deck of the Revenge, he's clearly lined up as a parallel to the unicorn. What he's doing fits with that visual parallel too: he's looking out at the horizon for what's coming, and he's making a plan to protect the ship accordingly. Except, that plan fails because he's literally ahead, thinking it's a day earlier. The unicorn fails.

The unicorn also fails in episode 7, when the English shoot its head off. Calico Jack lured them in because of Ed, and it's Ed who failed to spot Jack's treachery (to Jack's own surprise).

The thing is, Ed's not as good of a pirate as he used to be. The first time, this is because he's not paying enough attention to the world. He's introduced as completely isolated from everyone but Izzy--of course he didn't notice it was a leap year. The second time, he fails because he's changed. He's become more trusting than he was before, and it makes him a worse pirate. He doesn't belong as captain anymore. It's not good for him or anyone else, as gets played out at the beginning of season 1.

But out of the wreckage of Blackbeard, a new unicorn emerges.

Izzy's association with the unicorn, and with Ed's failures as Blackbeard, is visible even in season 1. He's there when Ed is paralleled with the figurehead, and the unicorn head is blown off because Izzy sold them out to the English. And underneath that is Izzy's failure to understand Ed. He resists engaging with Ed on the "frankfurters" business, even refusing to use the same word to describe the clouds. Then he completely misjudges the situation that resulted in selling Stede out to the English. Ed would rather accept anything than watch Stede die, and Izzy just does not get this. In his own way, he's failed as a figurehead too: he hasn't anticipated what's coming, or protected what's important to him.

In season two, Izzy's fixation on the unicorn is a clear externalization of the self-hatred that drove his earlier suicide attempt. The unicorn didn't do its job, so it lost its head. Izzy didn't do his job, he failed the crew along with both Blackbeard and Edward (he couldn't make Ed be only Blackbeard, he couldn't make Blackbeard be more like Ed, he fed and perpetuated that duality until the paradox nearly destroyed everyone) and now he can barely get around.

Izzy's removal of the unicorn's legs is a form of self-punishment, like his refusal to let anyone help him after he falls and his insistence that "you're born alone, you die alone."

Except then, the crew transform the symbol from failure to rebirth. After all, a unicorn is a mythical creature. It's a story, and in the world of OFMD, stories can damn the unwary--but they can also offer salvation.

The unicorn is transformed from a symbol of forced obligation (the unicorn attached to the ship, Ed trapped in his life as Blackbeard) to decision (the unicorn transformed by collective action, a person choosing who he'll be to the people around him). They repaint it to shine in the dark, and it becomes a physical incarnation of Izzy's second chance--to "do his job," for his crew and his friends. And he doesn't stray from that. He doesn't fail them.

Izzy's out front when he's shot in episode 8, leading the way for the crew just like the unicorn led the way for the ship. Richie (being The Worst) tries to use the unicorn foot against Izzy, tries to transform the symbol back into one of failure. But it doesn't make a difference, because that's not what gets him shot: it's Richie himself who shoots Izzy. And Izzy dies having done his job, that he chose, out of love rather than obligation.

And in the final moments of the episode, the Revenge sets out with a limbless and headless figurehead. Without a unicorn. It doesn't need one: they're going to look out for each other.

And on Stede and Ed's island, the unicorn leg remains as a reminder of the potential for transformation, even from the deepest depths of failure and brokenness.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #omfd meta

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randomscpventblog · 1 month

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Honestly it really saddens me that when I look back at my scp album (I make albums for every main fandom I’m in) all that comes to mind is how much mental distress the whole of the fandom caused me, my friends, and so many others. Seeing as Bright is still my comfort character everyone’s insistence on completely erasing him triggered my OCD so badly that I spent days, if not weeks, archiving everything in pictures, google docs, and files that I would check repeatedly multiple times a day and I was well off compared to others who suffered much worse mentally, I still have an unanswered ask in my inbox from an anon who wanted to unalive themselves due to feeling like they lost their comfort character(Bright) and I still have no idea how to respond to that.

I literally joined the fandom because I was under the assumption that since it was a Creative Commons community this type of drama and erasure wouldn’t happen since there was no company or person being directly financially compensated for anything. So I figured no one would have an issue supporting anything on the wiki but it appears I was wrong obviously. The whole Bright can’t be separated from his author argument is still absolutely ridiculous as well as anyone can engage in disgusting roleplay with any character.

But back to the fandom, the wiki users and Scp content creators dropping the character and acting all morally superior was incredibly gross and performative considering most of them were around when AdminBright was still active on the wiki and had nothing to say or qualms about using the character until AB was banned and people started turning it into an issue. Then there was DJK, who still has allegations of sleeping with a freshly turned 18 y/o and attempting to provide them with alcohol, who decided to use the lists deletion to try and get clout with his own character. Which so many people decided to switch over too completely ignoring the fact that DJK was complacent in ABs predatory behavior on the wiki and that DJK himself also has allegations against him. The only silver lining to Shaw is that one of AB’s victims is working with DJK which in its own way is odd considering how they were brought on to work on Shaw with DJK who as previously mentioned also has allegation’s of predatory behavior against him.

The fandoms response wasn’t much better you had people switching over to Shaw which they only used as a rename instead of as their own character which was what the victim wanted as they don’t want Shaw simply being a repaint of Bright. You had people here on Tumblr demonizing Bright fans for not being able to move on from the character like they were, because they somehow assumed that just because they were able to detach themselves from the character that everyone else could too, completely ignoring the fact that most Bright fans are young, mentally ill, and/or neurodivergent. Those same people would use the excuse of trying to protect the victim’s feelings and mental state’s, again completely ignoring the fact that their causing thousands of other people so much pain and distress all over using a character. Then you had people fear mongering and accusing Bright fans of potentially giving AB new victims with their usage of the character which makes no sense considering AB has completely disappeared from the internet and I doubt them flaunting the fact that they created a niche character on the internet is going to be impressive enough to get them any irl victims.

All in all this has to be one of the most distressing fandom experiences I’ve ever had, and I’ve been in a lot of fandoms. Literally the only good part was the friends I’ve made along the way, and they were the only reason I remained in the fandom for so long. Due to this experience this will be the last fandom I’ll ever join that’s a community lead fandom, because for as bad as your usual fandoms can be at least people understand how to separate the work from the company’s that create them.

#scp dr bright #scp dr jack bright #scp drama #scp discourse #dr bright #scp 963 #scp dr bright discourse #scp dr shaw #dr shaw #scp wiki drama #scp bright #I can’t wait to leave this fandom #hopefully my hyperfixation ends soon

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paytato435 · 8 months

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Chapter 4: Spider's Web

Inspiration

Donnie agreed to go with Casey and Leo if Casey agreed to help him work on the Turtle Tank. Since it had nearly been crushed in the subway tunnels, Donnie hadn’t been able to decide how to “improve” it. To be perfectly honest, it would have still run just fine; the only things that really needed repairing were the shields, but simply fixing the machine didn’t seem to interest the soft shell. Instead, he had completely deconstructed the vehicle and put it back together again- thrice.

Casey had no idea what Donnie was going for with this obsession, or how he had time to work on it at all with his college applications, scholarship essays, etc, etc… but perhaps that was why he had asked for help.

“We’re taking it apart again,” Donnie told Casey when they walked into the garage.

“Again? It’s not going to be done in time before dinner,” Casey groaned.

“Not with that attitude it won’t!” Donnie cackled, tossing him a drill. “But in all seriousness, it doesn’t have to all be done tonight. I just can’t stand looking at her right now.”

“She looks great though,” Casey pointed out. And he was right. The tank had never looked better. Donnie had gone all out on the tank’s design too. Each exterior piece had been repainted, waxed, and buffed. There wasn’t a scratch on her.

“But it’s just… the same!” Donnie growled.

“You say that everytime and then you put it back in the exact same way,” Casey reminded him, looking at his reflection in the tire rims. “Do you want to redesign it?”

Donnie looked stumped.

“Maybe you should plan out what you want before you actually, you know, make the tank unusable? What if we need to take it somewhere?”

“That…" Donnie looked around the garage for the answer to his problem. Seeing nothing to help him, he slouched.

"I am completely stumped, Junior," he admitted, dropping his head.

"You're stumped?" Casey had never seen him so defeated.

"Yes, stumped. Don't go bragging to the others, but I have no idea what I'm doing," Donnie grumbled, tapping his foot in frustration.

"Now that is a first."

"Wow, that must mean a lot, coming from the future boy."

Casey pinched his lips together. He needed to really keep his walls up around Donnie. Out of everyone here, he was always asking the most questions. He was infinitely curious, and didn't seem to know when to stop asking.

"I'm sure you'll come up with something cool," Casey encouraged. "Maybe you need to work on something new. Set this aside for a bit until inspiration hits."

"Inspiration… that's it!" Donnie grabbed Casey by the shoulders.

"You gotta tell me what I build in the future!"

"You told me not to do that," Casey pinched his eyebrows together in confusion.

"Past Donnie didn't know what he was talking about," Donnie turned up his nose. "But future Donnie is a genius! It would be foolish not to learn from the best!"

Sometimes Casey forgot that Donnie's ego was just as great (if not greater) as Leo's.

Donnie looked at Casey expectantly.

"You want me to just, what? Tell you everything you did over the course of twenty years?"

"If you had a list in chronological order that would be best."

Casey sighed. Oh boy he did not want to have this conversation.

"Donnie… I can't just give you everything. First of all, if you had a list it's long gone. I didn't exactly bring everything here with me."

"You didn't? Why not?"

"I don't know, maybe because I didn't plan to come here in the first place!" Casey burst out, frustrated. "You don't need help from your future self, Donnie, you are literally him! You're smart and can figure your way out of whatever rut you're in."

Donnie sank back a little, looking a bit hurt.

"I'm sorry, I'm not here to solve your problems, I'm just… stuck here."

The statement sat in the air like a rain cloud, its ominous presence daring Donnie to try and argue against rain. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes Donnie made Casey feel like an exotic creature or prophet- if he could just pick him apart in the right way maybe the secrets of the universe would just come spilling out. But Casey wasn't that; he was just Casey. He just wanted to keep the little bit of life before to himself; nobody could understand it the same way he could. He was put off that it would be anything different to someone else. The future had not been kind, but Donnie seemed to see it as a gold mine of opportunities.

Donnie took a deep breath.

"You don't think me having access to my future self's technology would be a boon to us in any capacity?"

"That's not my point," Casey told him. "I don't know what it would do."

"It seems straightforward to me!"

"Our circumstances are different now. If I gave you the information for this stuff, which is limited at best, by the way, you'd just have more questions because there'd be no context for what anything would be made for. Sure, giving you a design for a new tech bo could be useful, but you don't need one that specializes in taking out only the Krang."

"So you do have some information?" Donnie's eyes sparkled.

"I have had enough," Casey answered.

"I'm sorry I can't help you with the Turtle Tank. I'm going to get ready for dinner."

"Hey wait-"

Casey put the drill down and turned to face Donnie.

"What?"

The softshell shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

"Okay."

Casey felt a little bad leaving the conversation there, but he didn't know what else to do. It wasn't as if he could help Donnie get out of his block. If there was some tech they really needed that Casey just so happened to know Donatello had in the future, he'd let them know about it, but not before. He wouldn't give that up just because Donnie was having a bad day.

Or maybe a few bad days. It did take awhile to disassemble the tank, after all.

Casey found himself directionless again. Leo was still watching tv, and even though Raph had come out to join him, Casey kind of wanted some time to himself. If he were in a movie, this is where the script would cut to the next scene.

But Casey's life wasn't a movie, no matter how fucked it was, so he decided to do the thing anyone would do when they were waiting for something to happen:

He went to his room to doomscroll on his phone.

Tamanegi

Raph knew from the jump this was a bad idea. He didn't even just have a feeling. He couldn't believe Leo had just decided to go to Big Mama's for help and expect everything to go fine. Not only that, but he was probably going to end up dragging Hueso into it too if something did go down at Run of the Mill. What was Leo thinking?

Of course Raph was going along. Just because Leo was the leader now didn't mean Raph wasn't the oldest anymore; he still had a responsibility to look after his family.

He just hoped this Synth guy was worth the trouble.

When they showed up to Run of the Mill, it was bustling just as usual. Ok, that was a good sign. Nothing seemed to be suspicious yet. But Raph wore his no nonsense face anyway. He wasn't about to let his guard down.

"Wait, I just realized, this is the first time Casey can actually eat the pizza here!" Leo pointed out as they sat down.

"You've adjusted?" Raph asked CJ. He had noticed the kid had started branching out from plain sandwiches and oatmeal, but he was afraid CJ might still have hang ups about pizza. Not liking pizza seemed like a fate worse than death.

To his surprise, the kid gave a small smile and nodded in response. "That's awesome! Wait until you try the armadillo meat pizza!"

Casey's smile fell into a look off horror to show that maybe he wasn't that adventurous yet, but Raph let it slide. He would appreciate it soon enough.

Synth was five minutes late, Raph knew because Raph counted.

The bobcat that Leo had described clopped in with an unusual gait, like he didn't quite know how to walk right; even for a person with cloven feet. He looked around the place cautiously, more like a snake than a feline, before his eyes found the massive snapper.

Raph was a little glad he seemed more uneasy seeing an extra turtle at the table. He didn't want the yokai to think he had all the cards, even if he was sincere.

Leo waved the blademaster over, and he clopped his way across the room and into the booth beside Casey. Leo and Raph sat across from them. The yokai was lucky to be sitting as far as possible from him.

"Okay… on a scale of 1 to 10, how well do you think that grindstone actually kept Big Mama from listening in on our conversation?" Leo opened after Hueso had taken their orders.

The bobcat immediately squirmed in discomfort, which Raph did not take as a convincing reassurance.

"Is that why you brought the big guy?" Synth asked, flitting his eyes quickly over to Raph and back to Leo.

"Maybe," Raph propped his elbows on the table and leaned in a bit, demanding the attention back to himself.

"Synth, this my brother Raph," Leo introduced. "Raph, this is Synth."

"Nice to meetcha," Raph grumbled. "But if anything funny happens tonight, you'll be lucky if you walk out of here on both of your legs."

Leo gave him a concerned look, but didn't say anything. He was probably wondering where the big softie had gone.

Raph wished he could loosen up a bit too, but his perspective had changed a little since he'd been kidnapped by giant pink aliens. Or maybe it was when Casey had first appeared. Or maybe he just wasn't used to Leo calling the shots yet. Either way, his role was to act as the gatekeeper; he was not going to let anyone near his family that shouldn't be.

The message came through crystal clear; Synth looked like he was about to try and leave while he still had his legs.

Leo sighed.

"Don't mind him. He's just very protective. A big sweetheart, I promise."

Leo batted his eyes at Raph and made a stupid face, but Raph didn't let that break him down. If anything, he scowled harder.

"Right," Casey stepped in. "Where we left off, you all but admitted you're not happy with your current employment. Would you like to elaborate on that?"

Raph was surprised to hear Casey speak up, and so confidently too. He kind of sounded a bit like Leo.

Synth turned to face Casey, and seemed to relax a little at the prospect of having something different to talk about.

"Y-yes. Well, I wouldn't say I'm unhappy… or perhaps it'd be better to say I'm just uninspired. The money's too good for me to consider workin' anywhere else. But I'm an artist. If I'm making the same shit everyday I start to lose it. But Mama's got ears everywhere; if she heard I was moonlighting or doing anythin' off task she'd put me in a cell or worse."

Worse needed no further explanation. Even the people Big Mama claimed to have a good relationship with seemed to end up in her arena at some point.

"So you want to help us?" Leo asked hopefully.

"In a manner of speaking, I do. But there are a lot of steps to consider if you're going to get me to make anythin' for you."

"Like what?" Leo crossed his arms.

"Firstly, if I make you swords, Big Mama'll be pissed."

"That kind of seems like a big issue," Casey noted. "How are we supposed to help with that?"

"I did some thinking, some research, and I've come up with a solution to many problems in the Hidden City," Synth explained. "So while it is a big ask, I think you'll find the reward worth everyone's while."

Everyone waited for him to say what he thought, but he held back. Raph thought he looked unsure.

"You're asking strangers for help with something that could get you into serious trouble, and there is a very high chance Big Mama knows exactly what you are up to," Raph pointed out. He did not like where this was going.

Synth looked up to the ceiling as if he could find an answer there. When he looked back down, he seemed to find his answer on Leo's face, because it was only then he had the courage to speak.

"The second problem I have, has somehow, ironically blessed me with a solution. You see… I'm kind of cursed."

"Great, you're cursed too. Leo, Casey,have we heard enough? I think we've heard enough we should probably go."

"But we ordered pizza already!" Leo complained.

"I nearly forgot about the curse," Casey mumbled.

"You know about my curse?" Synth turned to Casey, surprised.

"Aha," Casey made that 'oh shit I said too much again about that future' face. "Yeah, about that…" the kid ran his fingers through his hair and gave a nervous smile.

Leo made a gesture for Casey to knock it off, but Casey put his fist over his lips.

"So, Synth has a curse that enables him to tell when anyone is lying," Casey squeaked.

"And how do you know that?" Synth bristled.

"Other than by the fact that your question is an attempt to test my honesty?" Casey asked back.

"You don't have to lie to him," Leo pointed out. "You just don't have to tell him!"

Casey frowned.

"I'm not afraid of telling people I'm from the future Leo, I'm afraid they'll think I'm crazy for saying so."

Synth's ears twitched.

"There it is again, your ears are twitching!" Leo pointed.

"I'm just surprised," Synth rolled his eyes. "That is twice now that what you've said is unbelievable," he gave Casey a suspicious look. "It's why I wanted to have this conversation in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Casey asked, clearly dumbfounded.

"You told me that he-" Synth pointed over to Leo. "Was the greatest ninja the world has ever seen. I could use the greatest ninja the world has ever seen… or two," he added on, glancing over at Raph.

"For the record, Casey's a ninja too," Leo smiled. Raph couldn't help but notice Casey's eyes sparkle at that. Raph didn't want to ruin the moment for Casey, but he wondered just how exactly he was supposed to be a good ninja with a chainsaw as his primary weapon. It wasn't exactly… subtle.

"Whatever. You know he's the greatest ninja ever, and that was a true statement."

"Well yeah, but it's just an opinion right? Even if I believe it, doesn't mean it's true for everyone right?" Raph asked. Facts and opinions were easily confused.

"That's true," Synth nodded. "Leo himself was lying when he said he was the greatest ninja ever."

"Hey! That's not true! I am the greatest ninja ever."

This time Synth's ears flicked to lay flat against his head.

"You really need more confidence in yourself, my friend," Synth chastised him before taking a drink of water. "That lie really hurt to hear."

"So what's up with this curse? It doesn't seem related, or even like a problem at all," Raph asked, redirecting the conversation.

Synth sighed. "Yes, it seems rather useful at first, but the world is not so black and white. Ironically, it seems some lies are meant to be told. There are things I wished I'd never known because of this power. And when people know I have it, they want to use me to their advantage."

Synth turned to give Casey a grave look.

"For you to know about my secret makes me wary of the future. Should I be concerned?"

Casey shook his head. "In the future we were close allies. I don't want to risk saying more, but your secret is safe with me. I don't know anyone else who would dare share it."

Casey gave a pointed look at Leo.

"What, me? No no no, I would never!" Leo turned and bowed his head to Synth. "Your secret is safe with me."

Synth turned to Raph next.

"You admitted this in a public space where anyone could hear you," Raph pointed out. "I don't know how useful my word is, but you have it anyway."

Synth looked like he wanted to die as that realization washed over him. Raph didn't get the impression he was very smart. And this was coming from the 'smash first, ask questions later' guy.

"And then there is the matter of how the curse works itself. Are you familiar with it?" Synth looked over to Casey.

Casey shook his head.

"Swords talk to me… well, any blade actually. Swords are straightforward. They don't care much for nuance, they take sides one way or the other. It's a simple way of thinking, but they are always decisive. They are also tremendously awful gossips."

"Wait, so swords gossip? They tell you whether or not someone is lying?" Casey asked.

Synth nodded.

"I've yet to hear them steer me wrong. And they have told me all about your situation, Leonardo," the bobcat looked at Raph's brother with… unease? Irritation? It was hard to tell."

"My situation? What's my situation?" Leo already looked upset, like he knew he was in trouble.

"That kitchen knife you call a katana-" Synth pointed to the blade on the back of Leo's carapace. "It's quite the tattle-tale. And word's getting around. If you keep treating blades that way it will end very badly for you."

"You mean they'll keep breaking?"

Synth shook his head. "Worse. They'll bite back."

"Bite back? That's silly. It's a tool-"

Synth slammed his paw on the table.

"Don't be so arrogant!" the whole restaurant turned to look at him. Suddenly self-aware, he sank back into the booth quietly.

"A ninja's weapon is more than a tool…" Casey spoke up. "It is your closest ally, literally."

Synth nodded. "It seems you've learned a bit from me."

"I must have," Casey agreed, but he was looking at Leo when he said it.

"The long and short of it is- you take care of your blades, and they will take care of you."

Synth pointed at Leo. "You have not been holdin' up your end of the deal, and for that the steel is sufferin'."

"Well yeah, that's why I want actual swords, this is clearly not working!" Leo rolled his eyes.

"It's not about you!" Synth snapped. "The damage is already done. It's not so simple as I make you new swords. For one, they would probably scream at me until I went deaf if I intentionally made a sword for you. They are pissed. The same would go for any premade swords I give you. Same for teaching you anything. They hate you. Your first step is to win their trust back."

"How do I win their trust back?"

Synth pulled something out from his bag; a small sheathed paring knife. He set it on the table.

"While I was working earlier, I had some conversations with my swords about our situation. While they may hate you, they are willin' to reconcile this matter for their own benefit too. We'll get into that in a moment."

Synth unsheathed the paring knife and immediately winced, as if the action pained him. He turned the blade over in his hand until the reflective surface caught Leo.

"This is Tamanegi. He has somewhat reluctantly agreed to help us."

Synth resheathed the knife and slid it over to, of all people, Raph. Raph lookedndown at it, but did not move to pick it up. They had not agreed to anything yet.

"Like I said before, I can't give you the knife, Leonardo. You shouldn't just expect it to work for you either. Give that to your youngest brother, Michelangelo, and help him where you can. When Tamanegi trusts you, then we can talk about your swords again."

"Wait, how do you know Mikey's name?" Raph asked.

"The gossiping, Raphael. They tell me everything."

"That's suspicious as hell. We don't have privacy in our own home?" Raph growled.

"Not as long as your brother continues to treat knives this way."

Raph glared down at the knife on the table. It was the fanciest paring knife he'd ever seen; not that he'd been keeping track.

The ones Mikey had at home had plastic handles, but this one was a part of the blade itself. It was heavier too. Mikey would probably get a kick out of it, at least.

"But speaking of privacy, we need to revisit the first problem. Many years ago, when my father was young, the Battle Nexus was an honorable place. The champions were brave warriors from all over the world, not just playthings of Big Mama's design. The swords of my forge and I have been laboring without honor all my life. My second ask is that you help me restore the Battle Nexus to its former glory."

"That's quite the ask," Raph pointed out. "Do you even know what that would mean?"

"It would mean destroying Big Mama completely," Synth said, leaning in and speaking quietly. "As long as she is in charge, everyone in the Hidden City suffers."

"She is the majority shareholder of yokai suffering," Leo pointed out.

"This is ridiculous Leo, we can't take out Big Mama! She hasn't even done anything to hurt us… lately," Raph argued. "We'd just be causing trouble."

"Hasn't done anything to hurt you? Are you ignorant? The woman has her spindly hooks in everything she can. She hurts thousands of people either by her deals, imprisonment, her own whimsy…" Synth trailed off.

"We're heroes, Raph." Leo reminded him. "I don't think our responsibility ends at topside New York."

"This is more trouble than it's worth," Raph insisted. Saving all of the Hidden City of the largest and most influential crime boss for a pair of katanas? This was ridiculous.

"How would Leo even fight Big Mama without his swords anyway? This isn't a fair trade."

Synth nodded wisely.

"I will make you a pair of katanas before then, if you promise to help me. I can risk the time and effort to make them if I know my future outside of Mama's influence is secure."

"You would be putting a lot of trust in us," Raph warned.

"It has nothing to do with trust. The swords will hear your conviction themselves," Synth shrugged casually.

"I need your word that you will help me," he faced Leo, his face serious. "My family has made weapons for the Battle Nexus for centuries. It is my responsibility to restore their traditions. I have looked for many ways to do so, but it isn't until now that I've been able to come up with a solution. This means everythin' to me."

"Sure, we'll help you," Leo agreed too quickly.

"What? Leo! This is dangerous-"

"Then don't go," Leo shrugged.

"You know I can't let you do this alone!"

"Then come with me!"

"Leo!"

Leo scowled.

"Let's at least think this through some more."

"There is no hurry," Synth assured them, raising his hands defensively. "Just take your time with Tamanegi for now. Discipline is often its own reward."

That was the first thing out of Synth's mouth tonight that Raph didn't hate.

"What do you think Casey?" Raph asked curiously. "You're supposed to know this guy."

"Wha- me?" Casey kind of jumped. "I don't know if it's my place to say what we should do-"

"But this was your idea," Raph reasoned.

"Well yeah," Casey rubbed the back of his neck. "I think that principally, it's the right thing to help him. But it would take a considerable amount of risk. In the end, I think it's up to Leo."

"Do you think it's worth it?" Leo asked him.

"Synth makes the greatest swords in the world. It's a great deal in the long run," Casey nodded.

Synth's ears twitched again, and when he looked at Casey, Raph could tell he was amazed by the kid's sincerity.

"I make the greatest swords in the world?" he asked, nervously.

Casey gave him a huge smile. "Of course you do! Without your help-" but he cut himself off. He looked back at Synth with that ghost face. The facade had been cracked for just a moment.

Needless to say, the silence following was agonizingly awkward.

"Well," Synth finally sighed. "It's a pleasure to hear such praises from you, Casey. But I suppose I would be better off not knowing whatever you're holding back from me."

Casey gave a sad nod. As much as it could be helpful, the kid had told them over and over how dangerous his foreknowledge could be. It was a bit frustrating sometimes, hearing all his cliffhanger inducing thoughts. It eventually wore out all the curiosity Raph had of the future. It wasn't worth bugging him over.

"I'm not asking this because I want an answer," the bobcat explained in advance. "But you must know that I wonder what became of the Battle Nexus in the future. Are we working toward the future you are from?"

"Well actually…" Leo started to say, but Raph kicked him under the seat.

"Do what you want," Casey answered. "The future is made by what we do today."

Synth seemed satisfied with that answer.

Dinner came and went. Phone numbers were exchanged, and once they had gotten through the serious bog, the conversation lightened.

As it turned out, Synth was another one of Liu Jitsu's many fans, and he was eager to hear all about what had happened to him after his disappearance from the Nexus all those years ago. Raph almost forgot about Casey’s warning hours ago: that Big Mama might have heard them. That she could already know everything. In his head this wasn’t a good idea at all, and he’d remind everyone later when they got home.

But then something perfectly normal happened: Sunita came in to visit her dad at work. She waved at the boys as she came in, and it looked like she had brought some flowers with her. Her dad came out from the back of the restaurant and he took the flowers from her happily. It was cute; Raph wondered what the occasion was. On her way out, she took a moment to stop by and say hello.

“Sunita! It’s been a minute!” Leo smiled at her. “You still hanging out with April?”

“Hi guys! Yes! We’re going to the library tomorrow. One of our professors has already assigned us reading.” She made a gagging face. Their term didn’t start until next Monday.

Sunita’s eyes moved over to Synth and Casey, and Leo caught her look too.

“Sunita, this is Casey and Synth. We just met Synth today, but April’s told you about Casey, right?”

Sunita’s eyes lit up in recognition.

“Oh yeah! Hi Casey, nice to meet you!” she held out a slimy green hand and Casey shook it without hesitation. He smiled like… ok he probably already knew her already. Time travel was weird. Raph tried not to think about it.

“I heard you and Mikey are starting high school this week?” Sunita asked, raising a gooey eyebrow. “That should be interesting. I’m still going to college classes in disguise.”

“We’re going to try it out,” Leo shrugged. “I’m sure we’ve dealt with worse.”

“My dad’s real nervous about it,” Sunita admitted. “Even though I’m going as a human, he’s worried someone’s going to rat me out, and he’s all like: ‘humans are evil! Don’t trust them!’ and all that.” Sunita glanced over at Casey and bit her lip. “Sorry, he’s not… he doesn’t think…”

“Oh it’s fine!” Casey waved his hands. “I’m sure he’s just worried about you.”

Sunita nodded. “Well, I hope it all goes well for you,” she encouraged Leo.

Leo put his hand over his heart and smiled. “Aw, thanks.”

“You guys have a good night!” And then she was gone.

Soon after, it was time to go home. Raph had eaten enough pizza that he felt like he was approaching a food coma; he was very ready to get some well-deserved shut eye. The party walked out and said good night to Synth, who quickly disappeared into the shadows of the overworld. Leo drew his sword, and a portal was soon shimmering and urging Raph onward. Pizza supreme he was glad nothing bad had happened.

He stepped through the portal, with Leo immediately behind him, and started to walk to his room, when he noticed Leo hadn’t closed the gateway. He turned, and saw that CJ had not followed them through. Leo looked through the portal, but the kid was nowhere in sight.

“What the hell?” Leo stepped back through the portal. He poked his head back in, concerned. “He was just with us, where did he go?”

Raph pulled out his phone and dialed CJ’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. Where had he gone?

“Donnie!” Raph called up toward the lab. Donnie poked his head out, looking tired and frustrated.

“Raph!” he yelled back.

“Do you have one of those tracker thingies in CJ?”

Donnie jumped down to the main floor and looked at Leo, who was still on the other side of his portal, walking up and down the street and peering back into Run of the Mill.

“You lost him?”

“He just disappeared! We had eyes on him not three seconds ago!”

Donnie groaned.

“He was very adamant that I not track him. He told me so like… a million times.”

“But let me guess, you did it anyway.”

“Scoff. I do believe in some levels of privacy Raphala. (Though maybe not anymore.) I do have his vitals though.” Donnie tapped at his wrist tech. “He’s fine.”

“Oh good," Raph's expression lightened.

“But unconscious.”

“Nevermind," his expression darkened again.

Leo popped back into the lair. “Guys I can’t find him anywhere!”

“Given the fact that he’s already unconscious, I’d wager he’s been kidnapped.” Donnie theorized.

“What!” Leo started to panic. “How does that even happen! He was just here!” He grabbed Donnie’s hand and dragged him through the portal. Raph followed them closely behind.

“We have to find him!”

Spider's Web

Casey was about to follow Leo through the portal when he felt something itch at the back of his neck. Ok, maybe not like an itch, but like something gooey had just crawled up on him. It was a horrible feeling really. Instinctively he went to scratch it off, but it wouldn’t let go.

It only took a second, he didn't even have time to react. He was suddenly yanked by his free arm and more of that ooze crept over his face- he couldn't even scream. He struggled as best he could, but it crawled up over his body as if he were sinking into jelly.

“I’m really sorry this was how we had to meet, Casey,” came Sunita’s voice. Where had she come from? Casey remembered when they had shaken hands. Had she… hidden herself on him?

Ew.

“I’m really, really sorry.”

To her credit, Casey did think she sounded sincere. But he was also rapidly losing consciousness so he wasn’t really in any place to forgive her.

The first thing Casey noticed when he came to was the kick of carpet under his shoes. Then the pressure of clawed hands gripping tightly to his arms. He was being dragged somewhere. When his eyes opened, he saw a familiar pattern pass him by in the runner beneath him. His eyes darted to either side and confirmed he was back in the Grand Nexus Hotel. Well, he wasn’t exactly surprised.

The bellhops pulling him hadn’t yet noticed he was awake. If he could twist out and take them by surprise, he might have a chance to break free. But just as he was about to pick up his feet, double doors swung open in front of him and he was carelessly thrown into a large room.

He heard Big Mama shout in surprise and disgust. “Idiots! What do you think you’re doing throwing our guest?” Casey looked up and watched as the bellhops stepped back into his space to pick him back up, but Casey scrambled away and to his feet.

Glancing around quickly, it looked as if he had been brought into Big Mama’s office. The woman herself was seated behind a massive, black lacquer desk. The double doors he had come through were swung shut and bolted behind him. He was trapped. As he continued to take in his surroundings, Big Mama continued to wring out her staff.

“And look at his arms! Honestly, I’m going to have you on probation if you can’t behave properly. We’re civilized yokai. I expected much more from you.” She turned to face Casey. “I’m really sorry for the way they treated you sweetie. Please, have a seat.”

“I’m good, thanks.” He didn’t know how he’d said that, honestly. His brain had gone from zero to one hundred when he’d scrambled to his feet, and now he couldn’t rest on any one thing. His adrenaline had kicked in and he was just waiting for the first opportunity to get out. One of the yokai standing by the door had his hockey stick. If he could somehow get that from him…

“I brought you in to talk, Casey. I’m not here to hurt you,” Big Mama’s voice made him jump. “I heard everything, I have friends all over. But believe me, I’m not the eensiest upset.”

Casey did not believe her.

Big Mama stood up from her desk and approached him. Casey took a careful step back.

“More than anything, I’m curious about you,” she cooed. “A child from the future; you’re very valuable. I’m sure the psychics in Witchtown would lose their minds over you.” She gave him a mischievous grin. “But why would I sell you to them when I could have all your little secrets myself?”

Why couldn’t he keep his damn mouth shut? Ever??? Raph had been right. They probably should not have met up in a public pizza parlor.

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Of course not; what’s in it for you, anyway?" Big Mama giggled. "Your freedom? Your friends? Your… identity?”

“That’s not a deal, that’s blackmail!”

Big Mama smiled mischievously in response, spinning away and leaning against her desk.

“Why are you so upset?” she teased. “You all seemed far too eager to dispose of me. If anything, I’m being generous.”

“I’d rather die.” He meant it. Truthfully, he didn’t see himself knowing anything particularly useful to her personal situation, but the things she could learn about his friends, his family- she would never have that.

Big Mama rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun. You’re just as stubborn as that red turtle.” She gave him a quick glance over from head to toe. “But you aren’t just keeping these secrets from me, are you? Unfortunately for you, it’s much harder to hide mystic energy from me than it is from your friends.”

Shit. Had she really…?

"I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ooo… you are not a very convincing liar, are you honey? That's not going to work out for you in the long term, is it?"

Big Mama snapped her fingers and two more yokai appeared at Casey's side.

"It's on his right ankle," she sneered.

The yokai grabbed him.

"Hey! Stop-"

Big Mama just smiled.

While one of the yokai held him still, the other pulled his pant leg up, his sock down, and Casey felt his stomach drop.

"Please don't," he choked.

"Take it off."

The yokai unstrung a small black ribbon that was tightly tied around Casey's ankle. As soon as they did, Casey's skin turned a scaly emerald green.

The yokai handed the ribbon to Big Mama, who inspected it carefully.

"Give it back!" Casey snapped.

"Not yet, darling," she giggled. "Not until you tell me why a handsome little turtle such as yourself is hiding from his own family."

________

Previous Masterpost Next

Notes: Oops he a turtle! This will be expanded upon next week eeeeeheeheheheheheheheeee

So this was my plan all along muahaha. Cass Apocalyptic Series got me by the throat and I had to put a different spin on turtle Casey. I saw this sweet boy and I thought "let's fuck him up a little bit. Let's make his life miserable, and this time there's no peepaw coming to make him feel whole again." Casey is alone and his story is finding meaning in the new life he has on his own terms. And he a turtle. turtle turtle turtle turtle...

#rottmnt #casey sas au #snapper and stinkpot #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt au #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt sunita #rottmnt big mama #casey is a turtle #turtle casey

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hoshigray · 2 months

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Omg I’m crying not eating kid’s lunch 😭😭😭😭 but that’s definitely what he gonna do!! 😭😭 but can you imagine him being girl dad 🥹🥹 ouuu I know that he will teach her to fight saying “if someone gonna try put their finger on you in school, just punch them in the face just how daddy taught you and then report to me, I’m gonna punch their parents too” anddd since our man has painted nails imagine his daughter wants to paint nails with him doing matching colors (pink 💀) 🥹🥹 he be so stubborn at first bcuz “what the hell, I am not one of your dolls”, but of course he will surrender and let her do it and after she’s done she asking “do you like it papa?” and even though he still feels stupid he will say “they look real pretty, princess” with soft smile 😭😭😭😭

Omg I’m gonna cry rn my baby fever is showing 😭😭 Dad Kuna is everything, I literally do not care how ooc that is, I love him 😞💔

GOODBYEEEE SUKUNA!?!? A GIRL DAD!!?!? ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THE SAME PERSON??? 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Okay okay let's be fr, that man is gonna do EVERYTHING in his power to make sure that lil baby doesn't paint ALL of his damn fingers. He'll compromise on a SINGLE nail. A SINGULAR nail out of like 20 💀💀💀 he likes his black so imagine the pinkie being the pink color, and the babygirl being so happy that it's still on after a while. AWWWWWWW imagine he goes to his daughter to repaint the pink whenever it's about to chip 🤧🤧 And Kuna knows you're happy about it too, trying to use your daughter to convince him on TWO nails, and he's like "Do not overstep; it's not happening." (It will happen, SLOWLY, but it will lol) I'm sure as the girl gets older and starts winning over her dad, he'll learn to be a little lenient to appease her tiny heart 😔💘💘💘

No but like YES LMFAOOO he most definitely would teach that girl how to fight!! I can see her being into "girly" stuff but loves hand-to-hand sports because their father is so good at it!! (Stop I headcanon that he lets them watch MMA fighting with him 🤭🤭 baby is most def a tomboy in spirit) bullying will definitely not be a problem, bc if they're sent to the principals office for punching a kid back or defending someone from a bully, 9 times out of ten she'll just be sent back to the classroom. Bc the entire school knows if dad picks up the phone instead of you, someone's parent is going to end up in a coma 💀💀💀OMG PROM AND DATING!???! Dude, he's gonna LOATHE the day they start asking questions about boys/girls, bc he's all like "What's their name? Who are their parents? What grade are they in? Do they do sports? Are they in the Honor Roll? How do you know them? Why do you know them? Why do you wanna date them? What makes you think I would let you be near them and out of my sight–" LIKE OMG BRO 😭😭😭😭😭

#dad! kuna is the type to not let his kids go to sleepovers no matter WHAT #maybe he'll allow the sleepovers at his home; which is hilarious to me bc it's bad enough he has a brat of his own #what makes him think he'll want to watch over 3 or 4+ for a single night 💀💀💀#man i love this sm this is so cute qnd funny!!!#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ⚛ 𝑨𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒄 𝑨𝒔𝒌𝒔

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davekat-sucks · 7 months

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I think the main problem with this is we're expecting way way too much and we've literally had a handful of pages since the take over. Can't we just chill the hell out and find out what's going on?

How will Roach resolve all this shit? I don't think everything has to be quite so binary, there can be nuance. LETS JUST WAIT AND SEE??

And shipping is subjective, no one cares what is considered canon or not - ESPECIALLY in the shipping fandom of all time. Isn't it more enjoyable to ship who you want to? Can't you just patiently wait to let the new team listen to our concerns and fix this?

The dog dick is staying. Sorry. Rose/Kanaya shitty stuff won't be retconned. Sorry. But they might explain it. And that won't make it better, but it will be a resolution.

Can't you just see the next part as its own entity? Don't look at the team as enablers but like those artists that take works of art that have been neglected and then they restore them by stripping the grime and repainting the areas that have been damaged, in such a way to not lose the original identity of the painting and in a way that is faithful to the original artist.

Maybe just enjoy it? Please?

I swear I always see your posts and you're just critical. Jegus

Nothing I see is giving me any hope. The damage Homestuck 2 did, left a huge negative impact that the new team really needs to pull something big to undo the damage. Most expect a hard reset at the start because they don't want to continue dragging the ugly corpse that is Homestuck^2. Plus, it's better to be cynical. That way, it will become less disappointing when something bad happens.

Did you also forget they already explained Rose cheating on Kanaya in Epilogues and Homestuck^2? Rose agreed to fuck Jade so she can have a baby and they kept it a secret from Kanaya for 13+ years. And when John reunites with the two Beta girls and they explained about their daughter (Yiffany), Kanaya claims she "consented" in the poly relationship, despite the secret kept from her for a long time after Epilogues and before Yiffany was kidnapped in HS2. But hey, if you are into NTR, that's your thing and whoever the sick fucker in the old team that had pitched it in the first place.

#Homestuck #HOM3STUCK #Homestuck 2 #Homestuck^2 #HS2 #HS^2 #Homestuck Beyond Canon

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dawningfairytale · 1 year

Text

the choir as the nail polish they wear the most

noel

i think noel wears nail polish *constantly* and chips it all the time. like all the time. and sometimes he likes the aesthetic of it being chipped in public but when he's alone he repaints it to be full for the next morning (also bc he'd literally chip it all off in 3 days if he didn't he's so me). black nail polish!! i don't think i need to say more. he wears it in canon and like... idk it's the vibe. but i felt like doing too and i also see him as wearing a nice dark red/burgundy colour bc it's dramatic and fun and yes it's the colour of blood. HE WEARS DARK RED BC COLOUR THEOR-

ocean

so ocean i believe wears white nail polish in the show?? at least it looks like it?? and this other colour is what i'm wearing at the moment and the colour that's getting me back into wearing nail polish. it's a little more understated than it looks in the pic, it's a nice light pink glittery colour. i reckon both of these make her feel more professional and put together (and yes she is spiting her parents by wearing nail polish bc it's "unnatural").

constance

constance absolutely wears neon purple nail polish. she dyes her hair purple you can't tell me she doesn't love purple and it's just got this brightness and energy that totally suits her!! and i also see her wearing silver nail polish/a glittery top coat (depending on the day). like if it's a formal event or something where she wants to match with ocean she'll wear super sparkly silver nail polish to feel more classy!!! at other points, just casual times, she'll wear the neon purple with a silver glitter top coat and she is hypnotised by her fingers the first time she does it idk it just makes her smile!!!!

ricky

ricky wears navy nail polish bc Space and also i think that they find it a good base coat for galaxy themes or fun designs (cats). and neon green because it's SO zolar it just gives THEM vibes. they wear it less frequently than the other three just sometimes. if they wanna.

penny

fun colours!!! bright colours!!! the blue is a calmer one but she's here for it!!! sometimes she'll treat her nails like a paint palette!!! is it a good idea?? no!!! but she really loves it!!!

mischa

mischa has like more chill green tones, it reminds him of the ukrainian forest he could see from his childhood home :) and even though he doesn't really love nail polish, sometimes he finds it a nice little thing to fiddle with, or calming when noel paints his nails.

#rtc #ride the cyclone #rtc headcanons #noel gruber #ocean o'connell rosenberg #constance blackwood #ricky potts #penny lamb #mischa bachinski #my lovelies #on my sugar queue

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occult-roommates · 7 months

Text

A new beginning to an old story

Around five days after their walk in the park, Athena felt ready to invite Akva to her new apartment. The reason it took so long is mostly because she needed to clean it first, and also for Akva to have some free time in between her retail job and flying lessons, but now it was time.

Athena: Tadah! Akva: Oh wow, congratulation on getting your own place. It's actually pretty decent. Athena: Why are you surprised by that? Akva: Cause like, have you seen my apartment? I live with six grown adults and one baby, but we only have two bedrooms but Charlie refuses to share hers except with the baby. We barely have enough space, privacy is like a foreign concept to me now after living like this for more than three years. Athena: I mean, I'm just saying, I only have one bedroom, but I think it's spacious enough I could get at least one roommates. Akva: Also, I was about to ask how you can afford it, but I mean, it's the spice district, most people in the area don't make that much money in the first place. Athena: That's because Paisley pays me good. Like I said, I could have a roommate to make it easier but I don't absolutely need one. Especially since in college I had one that must be from Hell. Like imagine a dude who refuses to shower more than once a week in spite of being a gym rat, would leave his dirty dishes everywhere to the point we had bugs infestation multiple times, and would punch holes into walls on a regular basis. Even had to bail him out of jail after a DUI with the money I needed to pay for a new computer. Oh and also he'd let his used condoms around the apartment as a way to assert dominance over my "beta" ass. Akva: Cause this guy was getting laid???!!!

Anyway, Athena kept showing Akva around the place. It wasn't that decorated to her personality yet, 50% because she couldn't afford it yet, 50% because the landlord wouldn't let her repaint that sickly green or move the furnitures around that much.

Then, the two women sat down on the couch to continue their little chat.

Athena: Fun fact, you can see by the window the exact place where that plane landed in the Myshun river a few years ago. Akva: Oh wow, that's cool. I remember recently, Ralf and I went to an aviation museum that's in southern New York in hope of seeing part of that plane, but turns out it's in North Carolina. We still had fun though, after the museum we went to eat at the shadiest roadside dinner known to man. Athena: Who are you talking about? Akva: Ralf is my new father figure, you should meet him, he is really nice.

Akva then leaned in for a hug. It felt good to finally have a close friend back in town. It felt even more special now that she knew Athena was actually happy and not just pretending. Though, it did messed her up that she literally had no idea what she was going through. Then again, in her defense, she was living on the other side of the country, even if Athena was visibly unhappy, she couldn't have known. Yeah, they did saw each other from time to time, like when they briefly dated which caused Akva to get pregnant, but still, she could have very well hid how she felt.

Akva: And you know, it would feel even more special if instead of introducing you to him as my friend...

Akva tapped her laps and told Athena to sit here, so she did. Now that they were in a more intimade position, step 2.

Akva: I'd introduce you as my girlfriend.

Athena looked at her all red and then, they made out on the couch, as the cameraman panned away as to not creep on them. Maybe their first attempt at dating did not ended up super well, and let's be real, ruined Akva's life for a year, but this time is the right time. Round 2 will be different, round 2 will have a happy ending.

Prev - Next

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 storytelling #occult roommates #akva singh #athena ramdeen #OcRo s3 #long post

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analoghorrorexplained · 1 year

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Hi, this ask is probably gonna be lengthy. But I wanted to say your posts on UrbanSPOOK are really good and perfectly nail everything wrong with the series, which is why I wanted to run something by you

I ended up finding the series pretty late into its prevalence (5 episodes in) and I’ve been going back and forth over my opinion of it with how split the community is over whether it is a masterpiece or problematic

Ultimately I’ve come to the conclusion that ‘The Painter’ does have a unique premise and impressive art, but poor execution in terms of blatant insensitive/inappropriate theming and an inconsistent story (which the creator has even admitted himself to be simply a way of promoting his art)

Which is why I personally want to try remastering the series. My goal is to polish it and fix the glaring issues, such as obviously removing the unnecessary ‘content’ and retouching the story to make it accurate and understandable. (I also intend to recreate every piece myself instead of directly reusing all of Slug’s art since I have some art skill)

I’ve been conceptualizing for the past month, but that’s as far as I’ve come. Besides the problem with original story currently incomplete (and most likely staying that way should the reception deplatform him), there is simply too much to fix to the point I’m not fully confident I can remake a well-thought out portrayal completely on my own.

I want to know your opinion on a possible repaint (literally) and if you have any advice on fixing the broken storyline, it’d be appreciated before I formally decide to do this or not

I am going to be honest: the only thing that does work about the series is this idea of having the villain be a person and not some sort of existential threat or disease. That, and having the killer have a gimmick like leaving paintings behind. That is about it and all I will praise. Everything else either conceptually or in execution is a dumpster fire.

One of the biggest points of re-write here would be the Painter himself and his motives. At the moment: we have no idea why the painter is doing what he does nor is there really a pattern to his behavior. Real serial killers do not act like this. There is usually some sort of greater reasoning or motivation to their choosing their victims. Some serial killers favored people with certain features or were in certain communities. Others tended to kill in a certain area or have a specific way of doing it. There is usually some sort of clear pattern or patterns set. So far the Painter just seems brutal for brutalities sake and it adds very little to the story. There is no reason for the painter to be as brutal as they are or for them to target the people they do. In the 6 episodes we have seen of UrbanSPOOK at the time of writing all we know is what the painter looks like (kind of) and that he kills/paints people. This second thing can even be debated since it is implied there is more than 1 person behind what is going on. We have no hints of motive or patterns. Being angry because a victim got away isnt enough character development for 6 episodes worth of story. Painting and taunting the police isnt either. Being a sexual degenerate isn't. The painter is just a hollow character with no real defining traits other than "he does fucked up shit".

For a painter re-write you are going to need to fill those gaps at least somehow. Presuming the painter is human, which I am going off of the assumption he is: why the fuck would he kill people so brutally. Why is there this fixation with rape or forms of sexual trauma/violence? Why does the painter paint their victims? Does the painter incorporate their victim's remains (IE: teeth, hair, bone shards, blood, etc) into the art somehow or are these paintings painted before the killings even happen? Why is any of this happening and why would the painter be doing this? You dont have to lay all your cards on the table right away. But to have a compelling story: you gotta have more than what we are shown at the moment. Its not enough to keep me hooked since its ALL over the place. And despite being all over the place, we still dont even know anything about who the painter actually is beyond their crimes and why they are doing what they are doing. This also goes for the victims and any other additional character. What is the point for them being there and why should we care about/hate them? What are they doing to push the story forward (or create a story to begin with)

Secondly, there is going to need to be major edits in terms of presentation, how info is given to the viewer, and how events in-universe happen.

As I mentioned before the series suffers from not really having an overall story to tell and from not using the format its in well (which leads to additional logistical problems for the story down the line). I do not think UrbanSlug really understood the setting of his own story or the genre he was putting it in. To fix this, you need to think about how this story might actually appear in an analog format (IE recordings of old news broadcasts, safety briefs, PSAs, websites, etc) and how those might look depending on the time and place your series is set in. I would hesitate setting it any time after 2000 since we are moving away from Analog tech in the 2000s which makes the format the info is being displayed in a lot more confusing. But I would really think about just how this shit would look if it were happening in real-time in the time period you have chosen. Would the police address this publically? Would victims be interviewed on the news? Would there be stories about this floating around? Would there be briefings? Would there be any reason to lie to the public about what is going on? Is the painter producing some of the content we are seeing? Where are things taking place and what technology does that place have that can be used as a storytelling device?

I would also really be careful of plotholes and inconsistencies. For example: the "incompetent police" trope is really overplayed. In urbanSPOOK proper: it seems like the police all have brain damage from being hit with a brick by the painter too hard. They do not seem to be doing anything and only serve as a way to explain why we know about the paintings or how we know how these people died. They serve no general narrative in-universe purpose other than to be exposition dumps. Same with the sexual violence and gore. There is no reason for things to be they way they are with the info presented and due to how inconsistent it is presented. And the fact the Painter was somehow able to kill both active duty and retired cops (one of which was also a farmer) in the deep south without getting shot or caught is impressive and also nonsensical since he is just a guy. The police more or less seemingly discovered the painter's hideout. Why the fuck is nothing being done to track down who that is? Cops have died they took one of their own. Would that not be additional motivation to keep on fighting harder? And with the wax bit, how the fuck was that even possible given how the painter got into the house and the things in the area? Why did the painter have any reason to sew the twins together or rip their genitals off? Why does the series never mention the swamps at all even when its set in an area where those are common? Why is nothing from the setting, time period, or environment taken into account? What should be taken into account? If there is a variable (like post-9/11 gun culture in the south, the fact gators and swamps are common in the area the story is set in, or realistic police reactions to things) are all things you need to think of when crafting your story. Would it make sense for the painter to be able to travel really far distances in a short amount of time or would it make sense for a news broadcast or police PSA to leave out all identifying details and locational details when talking about something?

If you cannot find a reason for something existing within the story, do not include it within the story.

And finally, I would like to stress that while having extreme violence or SA in your story is fine: it should not be used as a gross-out factor. If the main point of the narrative is to be like "look at this guy, he is so evil, he killed a person in a violent way and fucked a dead child" and that is the extent of where things go: you have a terrible story and a poorly handled topic. This kind of goes along with the "dont include things in your story that serve no overall purpose" point. But you owe it to the victims of these crimes, your audience, and everybody else to address this topic with respect and not blind sensationalism. There can be a lot of different ways this manifests in practice. A lot of it will have to do with research and how a topic might fit in your story. But it needs to serve a purpose beyond being gross and horrible.

TLDR:

Make things have a reason for happening and have that reason make logical sense for the story. If it does neither do not include it.

Take advantage of your setting and of the format your story is in to help tell it (and make sure your story makes sense for both the setting and format)

Make things semi-logical so we do not get any more candlewax mound/people being terminally stupid incidents. Stick to your own universal-rules or the laws of reality and do not rely on suspention of disbeleif.

Do not rely on shock horror to tell your story or use it as a crutch to try to get the viewer to love/hate something constantly

Have more than 1 character that does something

Follow your own rules of reality and when in doubt, do research

Try to avoid filler/repetitive episodes/points as much as possible. If you find yourself saying the same thing over and over move on to something else or cut out that point

Have an idea of what your endgame is before you begin writing the series

TLDR TLDR:

Write a story first, make art later.

I hope this helps. Idk how much can logistically be done to fix it but you can attempt. But itll take a lot of ground-up work.

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pinkliker69 · 1 year

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consider: an au where mo ran and chu wanning are idols, popular enough to have merch, where mr whos had a crush on his chu-qianbei for ages buys his plush and likes to pose his and cwns plushies like theyre kissing

literally i always love when charas make plushies of them and their crush/s/o kiss and thats the only reason theyre idols but since im already in this direction. cwn’s like an older generation idol who retired a little before mr became a trainee and ended up as his mentor

mr had always been a fan of cwn since he was younger and had saved up so much of his allowance to splurge on his merch back when he was popular, and his most prized possession is a cute plushie of his idol with a onesie that has cat ears on it…

(mr learns to sew so he can dress the plushie in a lot of different clothing, and if some of them were things like maid outfits and sailor uniforms, then that was between him and god LMAO)

anyway when cwn becomes his mentor he is SO FUCKING STARSTRUCK.. but he becomes so endeared by cwn’s cold yet kind personality and quickly falls in love. this is 0.25 mr all the way, i think hes so cute~

later on mr becomes a very successful and popular idol, initially debuting w his cousin xue meng and friend shi mingjing to become san-sisheng (yes 三) but goes solo eventually and as a result of all his popularity too, gets plushie merch.

and mr, despite never really caring much about his merch before, other than if it included his husky motifs and appropriate colours, was super involved in the design and worked very hard to make the design look like it was from a similar style to cwn’s

(i mean he doesnt TELL them he wants it to be in that kind of style but when they brought it up he insisted he was picky abt plushie styles and wanted it to be like the cwn plushie, which he saw before and thought was especially cute in its style! the knowing gaze xue meng sent him throughout that meeting felt like a hot laser lol.. meanwhile mr internally was thinking about how to make a husky onesie for this plush so it can match the cwn one he had)

anyway mr hasnt been subtle about liking cwn this whole time but cwn’s always thought that it was just him as an idol that mr was infatuated with, which he was fine with anyway.

so imagine his surprise when one day he is at the xues’ house and when he knocks on mr’s door and opens it to tell him dinner is ready, he sees his doll next to mr’s in wedding outfits, red robes and all...

(thanks for the insp trip but cwn also happens to have these plushies actually.. tho he just keeps them on a shelf standing next to each other :3 he also has all of mo ran's merch, but also xue meng and shi mei's (tho not as extensively as mr) bc those r his precious mentees!!

mr has like SEVERAL itabags of cwn merch too btw. they r the very hardcore 40 sets of the same badge types (and probably limited edition too) literally filled to the brim, bc once mr got richer as an idol he spent so much free time scouring auction sites for old cwn merch

ALSO once they get together and all. depending on whose house they move into (probably cwn's once mr cleans it up), mr buys and keeps a dollhouse at the side of the room where he'll always change the poses and outfits of their plushies and make them all domestic and shit

HE PROBABLY HAS AN SNS ACCOUNT FOR IT BTW... also im a big fan of idol aus where they are a bigname shipper for their own cp. and so he is like this famous cwn fan+ranwan shipper who posts cute pics of his ranwan dolls doing things all the time (sometimes cute, sometimes lewd)

one day on mr's official sns he takes a selfie in his room and some fans spot a familiar looking dollhouse in the bg... and are like hold the fuck up? what r the chances mr plays with dolls.

and to make it more convenient, mr repainted and customized the house to be like cwn and his dream house that their plushies live in... so its very suspicious mo ran has it... hmm 👁️

also im thinking they havent announced their relationship yet, because mr is at the peak of his popularity and cwn doesn't want him to be at the brunt of angry fangirls thinking he was stolen away, but lol. mr eventually announces on his sns that he IS the cwn+ranwan stan

and then xm and sm are like "yeah u've always been insane abt cwn... biggest cwn stan we knew" and the fans r like oh okay thats crazy. and then after that mr tops it off with "ALSO cwn and i are dating!!! so ranwan real <3" and the internet explodes

can you tell i like entertainment au danmei yet? but anyway things go fine in the end, cwn and mr eventually get married the same way their plushies did (mo ran voice: art imitates life <3) and he doesn't ever stop posting plushie pics. ~happy end~

ALSO ALSO considering how often ppl just make fanmerch themselves too. mr def has every single one of cwn. (he only gets himself too if they are a set together) and in mr’s cwn shrine there is an entire section full of pouty kitty cwns 😾

#2ha #ranwan #mo ran #chu wanning #erha #au drabble #yuepost

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 1 year

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My latest project, when I...probably should have been working on other things whoops: a custom Funko figure of a cyberpunk Loki. violincat3000 on Instagram was doing a DTIYS for the fanart shown above, and I thought, okay, I don't actually know how to draw, but I do still have the vast majority of that bin of Star Wars action figures I got free from a professor 10+ years ago that I've been dipping into for custom fodder ever since, so I'm almost positive I could make a custom figure of some kind instead. and then as usual I kept putting it off because I do that and also I thought it would be pretty easy, and I did it all at the absolute last minute, and it took way longer than I expected, as most things do. (I mean, part of that is probably because I ended up watching literally all of The Essex Serpent while finishing it, so I kept getting distracted, but also I’m very bad about underestimating the time it takes to do things. Which is why this took most of two days instead of a few hours and also why I was up until 3 am the night I finished. OOPS.) The head (Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park, minus glasses) and body (Officer K from Blade Runner 2049) were leftovers from earlier customs, with some repainting. The little green flame was repainted fire from a leftover Liz Sherman body. Most of the bits making up Loki’s headset/implants were from a big bag of random Star Wars stuff, also with some repainting, because I wanted something to suggest Loki’s horns. I made the big green visor from scratch out of a soda bottle, a wide gold twist tie, and the innards of a busted keyboard. (It’s terrible. This is why I never throw things away: every so often, I find a great use for them and then my magpie tendencies just get reinforced.) And then I cut down and repainted one of several spare scepters from cheap 3.75-inch Loki figures I got specifically for customizing purposes—I usually don’t like that the scepter is so closely associated with Loki because it’s something Thanos gave him and it was as much a leash as a weapon, but repainted like this I’m just gonna say it’s a totally normal setting-appropriate short sword of some kind that just happens to resemble the scepter. It's kind of hard to tell because it mostly looks reflective rather than gold, but I stuck some gold foil on the bottom of his coat, leftovers from a lunar module kit I made when I was like 10. (I don't have the model anymore, but I did save some of the leftover bits for exactly this kind of purpose, and this isn't the first time I've used some of them. Like I said, magpie. Or packrat, or hoarder.) The props around him are also from the Star Wars stash. now I just gotta…hope the super glue holds 😅

#loki #cyberpunk #dtiys #funko pop #custom funko #custom figure #action figure #adventures in customizing

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whentherewerebicycles · 2 years

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time for a HOUSE UPDATE!! sorry this is of interest to absolutely no one but me but I am aggressively nesting and must narrate the process (story of my life).

well I absolutely love my place and literally the only thing I would change about it is the four-foot 1970s-style overhang that juts out over the giant picture window in the living room, which means I only get bright indirect light and never direct light indoors even during the day. but honestly it’s livable and I imagine that soon there will be very little sunlight to speak of so it probably won’t matter all that much.

here’s what’s left in each room:

LIVING ROOM

I swatched three other colors on posterboard and will hang them up to look at throughout the week (including when the rain starts and I get my first taste of PNW winter). I would like to re-paint that room this weekend or next.

I need a TV console but they’re so expensive. I think I’ll keep putting it off a while longer.

two of the gallery wall pieces aren’t quite right but I’m going to wait till I repaint to fix

I could do something better with that plant corner but that feels like a winter project

the blinds need to be restrung but I might ask my parents to help me with that in November. ditto with installing the curtain rod.

everything else is perfect! the new recliner maybe isn’t the best fit in the space but omg it’s soooooo comfy and nice for reading or watching. and the cozy levels of the sectional area are absolutely off the charts omg the extra pillows & oversized throw I bought this weekend catapulted that part of the room to a new level. sooooooo good and so fun as a space for entertaining.

KITCHEN

all good for now. would love to put up a backsplash at some point (the whole area around the sink is just blah—too many shades of white and off-white) but that might be like, a year 2 project. it’s functional! switching up the orientation of the kitchen table + adding a plant cart made such a difference in that space. it’s way cozier!

HALF BATH & LAUNDRY ROOM

now these rooms are both going to be top candidates for a winter renovation project. I think they will be fun rooms to collect lots of Pinterest inspiration for—they’re small rooms so I feel like I can do something bold and fun in there with color and/or patterns. but for now they are functional and that’s all they need to be!

in the short term though I need to declutter the laundry room (might tackle that today)

DAYROOM/OFFICE

no idea why the paint is photographing like that please trust me it is still the most beautiful color imaginable

I still need to fix the standing desk but will probably give that task to my dad

I need to declutter and organize the big closet (currently my junk space). I bought a nicer dresser for my bedroom and I think I’m going to move the old dresser into the closet to use as an organized storage space. this will be a good weekend project—maybe even this weekend if I don’t paint.

I want to eventually transform this room into my cozy winter writing space. my goal is to figure out a good way to slightly partition off the room so that my office/work desk area feels visually separated from the couch area without making the room feel too cramped or segmented. right now I’m using that plant cart but I’m thinking I’ll eventually get a long low bookshelf (maybe waist-high) to put there so I can put a row of plants along the top and have book storage space on the bottom. I may also experiment with moving the tiger rug up here and getting a diff rug that’s a better match for the kitchen. tbd!!

I’m also going to hang the whiteboard, move Pip’s bed over to that corner so it’s hidden behind the partition, get rid of the IKEA chair in the far corner, move in a small little coffee table in front of the sofa, and get some throw pillows and blankets that actually work in that room. I may also put up curtains to pull that window area together a bit more.

I should really get a pullout couch or comfy futon for guests instead of the current beat-up sofa but I’m loath to spend lots of money on that room when I think that might be the nursery (or foster kid bedroom) within the next couple years depending on how things go. anyway it’s fine for now!

OH and crucially I gotta figure out the walls. I think instead of a gallery wall I may do shelves with leaning framed art + small objects like I had in my old living room. but first I have to figure out how the rest of the room will be arranged so I know what to center the shelves on. I think getting stuff on the walls will make this space feel more like an actual room and not just the place where I cram stuff that doesn’t have a home yet.

LITTLE LIBRARY

I adore this little room that is all lol

I need to finish scraping paint off the ceiling (it’s not hard it just takes some elbow grease)

I may want to get a little side table for my squirrel lamp + a little plant to go under the Rohan poster.

I want to get a small round rug but it’s not urgent! I also kinda have to decide if I want this to be a reading nook with a beanbag or small cozy chair or if I just want it to be a nice-looking open storage area.

oh and I need to organize my books at some point lol I just threw them on the shelves so I could get rid of the boxes

MY BEDROOM

this will be a winter project… it’s functional for now but it’s very bare bones. I am leaning towards doing a rich dark teal accent wall behind the bed and leaving the rest of the room white OR maybe doing a terracotta pink accent wall but we’ll see—I reallyyyyyyy don’t want to paint right now lol

I have two nightstands and a dresser coming this week so that should be a big upgrade to that room visually

I am going to buy a cheap new headboard to replace my cheap old headboard

for art… I think I may want to do a small gallery wall of fandom stuff (My Guys!) over the dresser in this little recessed area of the room—it’s visible from the bed but not from the hall so I think that’s a good compromise on Decorating Like An Adult and following my heart’s desire to plaster images of My Guys everywhere aha. for the rest of the room I think I need to do more Pinterest browsing for inspiration… maybe some bigger art pieces or maybe some shelves with plants or maybe something else who can say!! the space is perfectly usable right now and I can slowly acquire things & ideas to improve it.

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petrichormeraki · 2 years

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FNAF Security Breach Observations

Gregory is left handed (every item he holds shows up on the left side, as well as the Fazwatch being on his left wrist)

Freddy gets more disheveled with every upgrade, which means he probably gets polished and repainted when he's in Parts and Service on a regular occurrence

Despite staying up the entire night, Gregory never once expresses that he's tired (though I guess adrenaline will do that to you)

Gregory is confirmed to be homeless, and has a canonical distrust of adults ("every adult I've ever met has been mean to me"), leading me to believe he had run away from the foster care system (if he had even been registered at all)

Adding to above, Gregory hesitated when giving Freddy his name (he never hesitates like that for the rest of the game), leading me to think that Gregory is not in fact his real name and he lied because he didn't trust Freddy yet

Gregory's rough personality and tactless language adds to the thought that he had to "grow up quick", because he no longer had an environment where he could express weakness safely

Gregory's real age is unknown, but judging by his speech patterns/language, it's easy to assume he's 10 at the youngest. Despite the fact, he still managed to squeeze himself into Freddy's chest cavity with room for it to close back up, leading me to believe he had been on the run for quite some time and was malnourished and stunted (him being alone for a while is also supported by the fact that he had no moral trouble with stealing regularly from the shops in the pizzaplex and wrecking the various machinery)

Because Freddy seemed to be immune to the "possession"/virus that his fellow animatronics had suffered from until the very end of the true ending, my theory is that Freddy glitching out on stage and put in low power mode was the thing that saved him from Burntrap's influence

Freddy's disposition and his adamant repeating of how uncharacteristic his other band members are acting points to the fact that the other animatronics may be just as friendly and kind as he is when they're not suffering from this virus

There's a lot of theories that Monty was the one who decommissioned Bonnie to take his place, but I personally think that the one to wreck Bonnie was actually Roxy, as she has canonically destroyed SEVERAL other bots and was anecdotally the most destructive before the events of Security Breach

Roxy canonically is a redesign of Foxy, a detail that's shown by the old Foxy being present in the pizzaplex in posters and old cardboard cutouts and the fact that Roxy also has Foxy's yellow eyes (trans rights)

Freddy cannot sprint when Gregory is controlling him, but he is shown running in the true ending cutscene as well as when you call him before hiding. This could be explained by Gregory's weight literally making it impossible to run while Freddy is hiding him, or it could be that Freddy is purposefully going slow to honor Gregory's request to move carefully with him inside from the beginning of the game

Freddy's power also only seems to go down when Gregory is hiding in him, which could be another thing explained by his machinery literally not built for holding that much weight, therefore he spends extra power to be able to move with Gregory inside

Gregory's fear response is Fight. This is seen in every jumpscare where there is dialogue or a cutscene, in which Gregory reacts with anger (cursing the first map bot after the jumpscare) or physical blows (kicking Chica back into the trash compactor)

The only times Gregory is shown to cry is when Freddy or himself are in mortal danger (shown in most of the alternate ending comics)

Relating to above, Gregory is only shown to be truly terrified when he's trapped (could be related to a past trauma from before the events of Security Breach, since I doubt he's claustrophobic as he has no trouble with hiding both in Freddy and in the various cramped hiding places)

Despite being shown looking out for only himself at first, Gregory has expressed empathy for others during the course of the game, seen when Gregory promised with no hesitation to help Freddy when was on the floor from running out of power, and in one of the endings in which he asks about the fates of other children that would go missing if he leaves

I'll add on to this if I think of other things! Most of these points are just my own speculations, so I'd love to hear y'all's ideas :]

#fnaf #security breach #meraki post #tw abuse mention #tw foster care

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thanksjro · 2 years

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MTMTE #35 - Literally 1984

So Trailcutter’s dead, two members of the DJD escaped containment, Brainstorm’s ruined Free Drink Friday at Swerve’s, and Chromedome’s going to have to give back all the money from Rewind’s life insurance payout. Don’t worry though, because—

And I doubt that pile of corpses would lie!

Things are looking a bit different than we’ve come to expect from MTMTE. Though some things have stayed very much the same.

Never change, IDW graphic design team. Never change.

Minimus is rather put-off by the fact that his brother wasn’t the one to greet him when he landed back on Cybertron. You know, his brother, Dominus Ambus. The dude who’s been missing for the last four million years. Rewind says that he’s been busy with work. No word on where Chromedome is in all of this.

It turns out that there’s been a lot of nonsense going on lately- the Senate was unseated, the Functionist Council sold Luna 2 to the Black Box Consortia, the Functionist Council is still around, the Black Box Consortia isn’t the Black Block Consortia, and Minimus is unemployed. Everyone’s favorite little mustache man was off-world with the Primal Vanguard, that group that Tailgate lied about being a part of way back in Season 1, but recent events mean that off-world excursions aren’t going to be a thing anymore. Without a job, he may be at risk for obsolesce, which is a thing you very much don’t want to be in a Functionist society.

As the two leave the spaceport, an announcement is made, warning them to keep to their alt-specific areas. That’s right- there’s literal segregation on Functionist Cybertron. Though considering that Rewind is a slave— I mean disposable class, that shouldn’t be terribly surprising. Still, Rewind’s technically living the good life, seeing as his husband, who classified his alt as being a step above an animal, got him a job as his assistant. And then married him.

Yeah, Dominus’s whole deal is pretty gross.

Minimus has the realization that there are an awful lot of Rewind repaints running around Cybertron these days, as well as roughly half the cast of the Unicron trilogy. This is due to the fact that there was another Recall. You do not want to be Recalled, as it turns out, because that’s what happens when you’re Obsolete, and that means that you’re gonna be culled. The most recent victims were the Lunabots, seeing as the Moon was sold off, and they didn’t serve a purpose anymore.

Minimus is asked to prove his function, and he does so, turning into a minesweeper. The guard however, doesn’t recognize his build, since it’s been adapted for other planets while Minimus has been traveling. Going full TSA, the guard examines Minimus’s transformation cog, while Rewind explains that Pretenders have been forcing the Functionists to be extra scrutinous of kibble.

Suddenly, a Lunabot bursts through the crowd, interrupting the moment. Hey, aren’t those guys supposed to be dead?

Theeeeeeeere we go!

Anyway, welcome to Present Day, Present Time.

Over on the Lost Light, Chromedome fuckin’ annihilates a steel plate door getting to his tiny husband. Or well, sort of. The husband part, not the annihilating a door part. We all know that the power of love makes him very strong.

Rewind, who if you will recall, is not the same Rewind who was killed tragically in an Overlord-exploding accident, but rather a quantum-duplicate of that Rewind from the moment the Lost Light quantum jumped with a Duobot shoved in the engine. Some might argue that that means he actually is the same Rewind, but Rewind himself isn’t so sure. He’s been sleeping in a different room than Chromedome, because it’s just a very weird situation. Also, he saw Chromedome get needle-murdered like three hours ago, and he hasn’t really processed that yet. And I’m not exaggerating that, by the way.

I know you got shoulder wheels, Chromes, but maybe slow your roll a little.

They get to talking about the scream-inducing flashback dream that summoned Chromedome, and it quickly becomes apparent that Rewind isn’t remembering shit right. Like, he’s factually incorrect about major historical events, in a way that can be proven, with evidence. Mass recalls never happened. The Functionists have been gone for ages. He personally knows a laser pointer, an alt-mode that was recalled well before the time that his dream took place in. These discrepancies worry Rewind greatly.

Over in the morgue, it looks like Trailcutter made his way home, as Megatron stands over the body like a vengeful spirit. Rodimus finds him, not-blaming him for the situation that got Trailcutter killed, and also the creation of the group that murdered him. It’s a very petty way of going about it, but still better than Rodimus’s usual handling of affairs. It also seems as if Rodimus had stopped by previously, as there’s a Rodimus Star in Trailcutter’s hand. Ain’t that just just the sweetest?

We get a brief recap on the Brainstorm situation, where it’s revealed that despite being poisoned, nobody died, because Swerve waters down his drinks. Hooray for dishonest business practices! Still, a lot of folks got knocked out by Brainstorm’s briefcase-activated poison science-bullshit. Magnus, who typically refrains from the consumption of alcohol, because he gets a little silly when he’s sloshed, and gets sloshed pretty fuckin’ easy, attempted to intervene. Brainstorm, anticipating such an occurrence, whipped out his Nude-inator gun and made short work of the Magnus armor.

Megatron wants to find Brainstorm, and fast. The problem with this is, it appears that Brainstorm pulled yet more science bullshit, because Perceptor’s damn sure that bastard’s gone 4 million years into the past.

Megatron takes this information about as well as he can.

This is about the point when Magnus comes in, having put himself back together, and things calm down a hair in the presence of his cool blue paint job.

For the moment, our co-captains and S.I.C. opt to cover this whole situation up with a lie about tainted booze. Because the last time they tried to cover up a Decepticon on the ship, it turned out so well! Isn’t that right, Rewind?

Haha, you said it, pal!

So why did Brainstorm violate the laws of linear time anyway? The lads are figuring it’s because he’s a sore loser, and if you can change the score of the 4-million year war, why wouldn’t you? Boy’s gonna make the Decepticons the Deceptiwons, right from the start.

Back in Rewind’s fucked up racist nightmare hellscape, Minimus and Rewind have finally made it home. There’s a broadcast on the TV, of a gender-bent Rung throwing her T-cog at a Functionary in an act of protest. Her head explodes immediately after.

She was one of the willfully unemployed, a thing which the Functionists abhor. The fact that this broadcast was tapped from a security camera tips Minimus off to the fact that Rewind and Dominus are rebels. Not that Rewind was really trying all that hard to keep it a secret anyway. After confirming that the place is clean of wiretaps, Minimus admits that the events that took place earlier bothered him.

But enough about Minimus’s feelings! Y’all wanna see something kinda fucked up?

Dominus had his head replaced with a screen, because apparently Empurata is just too passé in these modern times. I wonder how Whirl feels about this development.

Dominus can’t even type without a popup ad coming up— they don’t have UBlock Origin on Cybertron, apparently. Minimus effectively pulls an “oh my, would you look at the time…” stating that he’s got to go to a career fair for the Vanguard. He promises to be back, trying his best to hide his horror over his brother becoming a buff CRT.

I’d like to remind everyone that this is the only issue we get to see Dominus actually talk in, and it’s been 25% face puns.

We go over to the Cog, which is a giant floating building shaped like a cog. The table inside is a cog. The chairs are cogs. The light fixtures are cogs. The floor is cogs. The motherfuckers inside the Cog look like cogs— mothercoggers, if you will. These mothercoggers are the Functionist Council, and they’re having a meeting. They decide to 86 the data sticks in the name of being racist— I mean, streamlining the Cybertronian race.

I’m not sure how I feel about genocide being a running theme in Roberts’s work.

Back on the Lost Light, Perceptor shows his superiors the bullshit he’s been dealing with since Brainstorm fucked off into the time-stream.

All of these cases are part of the time machine, with the case Brainstorm keeps on his person being the control. Through the power of quantum engines— it’s always quantum with these comic book scientists, I swear— he travels through time, with the fucking machine hooked up to his own goddamn spark. This is to prevent a majority of folks from following him through time, should they happen to figure out his plan; if you don’t have the same sparktype as Brainstorm, you ain’t working the machine. He’s also somehow managed to prevent the creation of paradoxes, so his work won’t be undone by the lack of it needing to have been done. Parallel universes aren’t a factor, as they’ve been disproven by the scientific board.

Look, time travel stories are all sort of bullshit, just roll with it.

At this point, the only thing that can be done is chasing Brainstorm through time, with the only folks who have the appropriate sparktype. Good thing Nightbeat found that Quantum Copy briefcase a few issues back!

Ultra Magnus is still trying to come up with what the hell Brainstorm could possibly do in the past that could turn the tide of the war before it even starts. Megatron has it figured out though, probably because he’s thought about it a lot.

It just isn’t Transformers without Optimus being dead.

Back on Cybertron, Minimus is having a hell of a time trying to get home, as every data stick in existence drops dead in the street, their tiny little heads exploding like popcorn. He arrives just in time for more fucked up shit to happen to his brother.

Eugenesis, for all the misery it puts you through, at least never had anybody suddenly have the ability to understand love ripped out of their goddamn head. Roberts has grown into even more of a monster in the last 13 years.

The Functionist Council decides to use Dominus’s face to communicate with Rewind and Minimus, stating that they’ve been watching since Minimus landed on the planet. Yeah, all those “You Are Our Eyes” signs? Very much literal, and soon they’ll apply to everyone everywhere. Rewind, because I guess he never learns how to shut up if he stays with Dominus, decides he’s gonna take a stand, revealing his trump card of having had his “You Are Obsolete Please Die Now” head-chip disabled. As if the Council wouldn’t have planned for that.

And that’s a wrap on Rewind! Let’s give him a hand, folks!

#transformers #jro #mtmte #elegant chaos #issue 35 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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buckystarlight · 3 years

Note

hi write more dad!bucky headcanons please and thank you

there u go

BELLA I LOVE THIS???? IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG MY LOVE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <33

pairing: dad!bucky x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: just a bunch of headcanons about bucky with his children

warnings: babies; mentions of pregnancy; i think that’s it? otherwise, its pure fluff

a/n: i've never written headcanons before dhajdjjss i'm sorry if this sucks. i’ve talked about some of these on here before, but i added them here anyway.

Let's get this out of the way: Bucky is the best dad ever.

I mean, you thought you always knew he was going to be a great father. He's a literal angel, after all. But when you had your daughter, Marigold, you realized just how amazing he really was.

Bucky took care of everything. From waking his little girl up for school every morning, getting her ready and even making her breakfast.

He would often let her hook her arms around his metal arm and lift her into the air, the sound of her laughter filling the home you had built with the love of your life.

Bucky used to be insecure about his arm, once. About the scars that littered his shoulder like constellations in the sky, the vibranium shot through with gold. And while you had managed to rid him of most of these inhibitions, he still wore his gloves when he dropped Mari off at school.

That was, until the day Mari dragged him to meet her friends

"Look, guys," she said, with the biggest grin on her face. "My dad has a robot arm. How cool is that?"

Bucky damn near teared up at the look of pride on her face. Because how could his baby girl ever be ashamed of him? Her father was a hero who had saved more lives with that arm than he had taken, even if he forgot that sometimes.

When Mari decided she wanted to be a nail tech, he bought her a full kit just so she could practice.

Of course, she chose her dad to be her model.

Bucky walked around for weeks with his nails painted painted pink, waiting until the nail polish was chipped so bad he had no choice but to ask Mari to take it off and put on a fresh coat.

Seeing your husband with your daughter, you were completely unafraid to tell him that you were pregnant again.

You had never met a man capable of giving as much love to everyone around him as Bucky was, after all.

Bucky was overjoyed when you told him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up into the air and spinning you around, laughing like a child.

And when you found out that you were having twins—there's no way to put into words how delighted he was.

Just as he had when you were pregnant with Mari, Bucky took care of everything.

Only this time, he had Mari to help him.

The two of them repainted the nursery together. One of the walls was left the yellow-splattered orange it had been painted previously—for your Mari's name. One was painted a midnight blue for your daughter, and another a mint green for your son.

Brainstorming names was somewhat of a challenge. Bucky, of course, had two names in mind, but he was unsure of how you would react to them.

That was, until you brought it up yourself.

"I think we should name the boy Steve," you said one night, as he got ready for bed. "And our girl—Rebecca. After your sister."

Bucky froze.

"Are you sure, love? We—I know you had a lot of names in mind, but—"

"They were two of the most important people in your life, Bucky. Of course I'm sure."

The first time Bucky held Steve and Rebecca in his arms, he was shaking. Never in his life had he expected that he would have not one, but three beautiful children.

Three children with your hair and his eyes.

A family he would live and die for.

Mari was the most enchanting older sister. She read to her siblings every night, clambering into the crib and lying in between them, careful and gentle in a way most six-year-olds aren't.

As they got older, little Steve's fascination with his dad's metal arm grew.

He would draw little stars on the vibranium with white dry-erase markers, then rub them off with his thumb.

Steve never failed to boast about how his dad was a superhero to his friends at school—to the point where Bucky was bombarded with little boys asking to touch his metal arm every time he went to pick the kids up from school.

Becca, meanwhile, never let you do her hair. "I like it better when dad does it, Mommy."

And so Bucky did her hair every morning, sleeking those strands back into a silken braid, securing the ends with a black hair-tie that had threads of gold running through it.

"To match Dad's arm," Becca had grinned when she had asked you to buy it for her.

Eventually, Becca decided that if Bucky braided her hair, it was only fair that she braided his too.

It started one morning as Bucky was getting ready for school, when she told him that he was doing her hair all wrong and proceeded to climb up on the bed and put a tiny little braid in her dad's hair.

Of course, Bucky wore it around for the rest of the day.

The braid, coupled with his nails painted pink, thanks to Mari, subjected him to Sam's ceaseless teasing.

He didn't care, though. His heart swelled in his chest every time he glanced down at his nails or his fingers brushed the braid in his hair.

To the point where he grew his hair out again, just so Mari and Becca could braid it.

Of course, Steve decided that he wanted long hair too when he saw his dad skipping haircuts.

In fact, Steve even insisted you braid little sections of his hair like his sisters did for his dad.

It didn't matter to him what the boys at school said about his hair. If it was good enough for Dad, it was good enough for him.

Sam was bewitched by your children too. It was hard to say who was more excited to see the other on the weekends, when choruses of, "Uncle Sammy!" broke through the house every time the doorbell rang.

Spending Sundays at your house became sort of a tradition, as did spending holidays on Sam's boat.

Sarah's sons were enamored with your children. The five of them were inseparable, running around the docks, dodging Sam's neighbors who had now come to know the Barnes family all too well.

Bucky had never really imagined that he would ever know peace like this: with a family that he wasn't going to lose this time.

With friends he was sure wouldn't leave him behind.

He had never allowed himself to hope for it

But as he watched the sunset over the waters, sitting next to Sam with a bottle of beer in his hand, the sound of your laughter mixed with his kids' filling the air around him, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he had done something right with his shot at redemption after all.

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