#i actually think its so fun to indicate age through subtle changes

[liimonadas]

i blacked out and suddenly theres 4 edgeworths on the canvas

bonus design notes edition

[greaterspawnislands]

lead me into the light | emerald duo platonic soulmates

For all the years he has lived, Phil has lived without a soulmate, and as a result, without color. And he's perfectly fine with that.

Then he touches down on a battlefield for fun, and meets the eyes of a total stranger.

And as the world goes from monochromatic to full of color and more beauty than he had ever imagined, Phil knows that everything is going to change.

(But a mortal's life is only so short, after all.)

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My twitter account voted a series of polls to decide what fic I was gonna write, and they decided on an emerald duo platonic soulmates au fic that was angst with a happy ending ! Link will be in the notes, but here’s a bit of the start to get you into it!

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There are a few constants that Phil holds in his life, has always held, and will always hold.

The first, the most glaring, is the centuries that stretch far back in his past and the ones that he approaches in the present. It is the fact that he cannot die from old age or from hunger or from thirst, that it is only by injury that he could possibly be taken down for good.

The second is his lifestyle. Always a traveler, never with a permanent home. For fear of being targeted, or not wanting to cause that kind of disturbance, and because Phil truly desires to wander the world on his own terms, he travels. Visits every city and explores every nook and cranny of it as it changes over the months and years and decades. He visits fields where he spilled blood and watches others spill blood in that very spot a few years later. He carves out temporary places, favored nooks to fish in and well-loved corners of libraries or especially nice inns, but he never lingers around others who might question his unaging face.

And the third is the grayscale in which he sees the world, shades of black and white and everything in between, the only hues he’ll ever lay eyes upon.

(Soulmates are rare. They are not a common thing, they are often considered blessings by the gods to live your life devoid of color, the trials and tribulations to find your other half.)

(Phil has met quite a few gods, in his time of wandering. That’s just straight bullshit.)

He’s lived decades upon decades without a soulmate, and is perfectly content to keep living without one. Where others find agony in not being able to separate the color of the leaves in autumn, Phil has long since made his peace in seeking out the beauty of the world in other ways. The speckled patterns of a newborn fawn in spring. Waves darkening the shade of the sand upon an ocean. The way his lover’s hair seemed to melt into the endless night sky.

(Gods are exempt from the concept of soulmates, and Death had no answers for Phil when he asked her why he had been cursed to live like this, nor could she bring his sight into full color, even with all her otherworldly abilities.)

(��Maybe there is someone out there,” she said to him one night as he rested against her shoulder, looking up at the star-studded sky from where they sat within the earth. “And you just haven’t found them yet.”)

(“I don’t think I need to find anyone else, honestly,” he replied, turning to look at her. She was a thousand times more dazzling than any sky could behold on its own. “You’re all I need, I’m not letting this kind of stuff stop me from living my life any longer.”)

Their visits were infrequent, but time means nothing to a god and a human whose chances of death are slim as long as he keeps himself out of trouble.

Phil’s wings flare out as he touches down on a battlefield stained with darker shades of gray, determined to find go and find some trouble, if only because this past year has been incredibly boring otherwise.

“My name is Philza,” he introduces himself to the general of the army, hand raising in a salute that had definitely been appropriate last time he was on a battlefield, and he doesn’t really care much whether it still holds up. He takes his hat off as well, holding the striped material against his chest. “And I’m here to help, if you’ll have me.”

His reputation, that of the Angel of Death, precedes him. For all his intentions to keep away from sticking around civilians as they aged, wars and skirmishes would always be an exception.

It was a secret sort of thrill, to throw himself into the fray of a conflict he would hardly remember by the next one. To release the fearlity that he kept tightly wound up inside him, to splatter blood on a blade and sink arrow after arrow through the eyes of assailants. Nevertheless, the legends of his help follow him wherever he goes, and the look of relief on the general’s face says enough on that matter.

A night’s rest later, he’s led across the loosely set up encampment to one of the larger tents. As he walks, Phil tips his head up to gaze at the sky. There was no smooth texture, instead fuzzy clouds crowd the sky, and Phil tilts his head, noting the approaching rain.

Once inside the tent, the general nods at him, speaking before Phil can even courteously extend a greeting.

“We’re going to have you take command of the Red Snakes force, over here.” The general indicates to the map spread out on the table between them, pointing to a marker that Phil notices has a small symbol carved into it. It’s a small squiggle, barely noticeable, but it stands out against the other symbols carved into the various markers that Phil gathers to represent the different sub-forces that this general is commanding.

It’s helpful primarily, though no one knows of his own color-absence, he does appreciate the carved symbols. As an afterthought, it’s interesting. He wonders who else is color-absent this high up in the commanding forces. A rare thing, to be sure, not that he’ll bother to interact with them for that reason. He’s here to help spill some blood, not hear some poor sap moan about how they feel they’ll die on the battlefield before meeting their soulmate.

Phil’s eyes snap from the squiggly symbol back to the general’s words, tuning in mid-sentence. He’s definitely missed some information that was probably crucial, but he’ll get somebody else to relay it to him later. For now—

“Your co-commander already knows this, of course, but I figured I would inform you separately so you were up to date on our intel before you began discussing the best course of action.”

“Sorry, my who?” Phil blurts, brow furrowing, heart sinking a little.

“You’ll be co-leading this group, at least for now.”

Phil lightly bites the inside of his cheek to keep his face schooled appropriately. He knows what this is. It’s a nicely phrased term to cover up the fact that he’s being babysat because they don’t trust him with their armies, so they’ve appointed another commander to watch over him.

On one hand, it’s fucking annoying to be watched like that. On the other hand, that does mean Phil can totally push all the actual commanding duties off to the other guy while he buggers off to do what he pleases. Maybe this won’t be too bad after all, honestly, it depends whether he gets some kind of suck up as a co-commander or not.

“Commander Technoblade has shown great leadership prowess in recent skirmishes, so it was determined that he could take up control of a new force until your support and guidance,” the general continues, and Phil’s heart sinks further.

Oh, gods, they think he’s some kind of trainer, some kind of mentor to a kid who’s been handed too much responsibility for his age and will die in a week. Not this shit again. “Sounds great,” he lies through his teeth. “When do I meet him?”

There’s a soft knocking against the flap of the tent, and the general lifts a hand. “That’ll be him. You can come in, Technoblade.”

“Yes sir,” a deep voice intones. There a shuffling of fabric just as Phil turns to greet whoever this guy is, and—

And his vision explodes with—

Everything is so bright, even brighter than the white gleam of the sun in his eyes. Phil blinks furiously as what he’s certain is color blooms across his vision, spreading outward until there’s nowhere he can look to escape from the blinding, unfamiliar hues. Gone is the subtle change of shade between the grass at his feet and the canvas walls of the tent. They’re two entirely different colors now, unrecognizable in this state.

[andytheaverage]

The Green Knight (2021)

(CONTAINS SPOILERS)

The Green Knight (2021), with its excellent cast and feast of visual storytelling, does cut a pretty trailer, but it’s hardly the adaptation we’ve all waited nearly 2 years to see. Rather on the slow side, there is plenty of breathing room (often to excess), but often feels wanting. The performances are well-played, albeit terribly subdued, which create interludes that feel tedious. Dev Patel has proven himself time and again that he has the capacity to play a nuanced lead, and he does well here, but it is the side characters that break the monotony and steal the show, most notably Joel Edgerton (Lord), Erin Kellyman (Winifred), and Barry Keoghan (Scavenger). 

David Lowery’s “adaptation” explores the journey of an untested and somewhat undeserving not-quite-Sir Gawain, a far-cry from our Hero in the text, more akin to Prince Hal. This change adds elements to the character with which an audience might more easily identify, and should make this a coming-of-age tale, as well as a moral one; though, this film fails as both. 

As a coming-of-age tale, Gawain never quite gets there, and it almost doesn’t matter if he does, because it's not really his tale at all. Nor is this film about morality, not even as a cautionary tale. Perhaps it's more accurate to call it an instance of ‘careful what you wish for’. Gawain doesn’t seem to know what he wants. Does he really want to be a Knight? Is this about living an honest life or living up to familial expectations, particularly your mother's? Hard to say, as many of the female characters, including Gawain’s mother (Morgause and Morgan Le Fay made one), are treated as mystery elements themselves. It’s also not clear just how far her control extends, if it has any limitations. Is there anything in this world that is true?

Perhaps we'll never know his mother's true intentions; it clearly wasn't for her son to be his own person and make his own decisions. A man simply doesn’t become a Legend without his mother’s entire fabrication of the quest, it would seem. Does Gawain feel so out of place in his own story because it’s already set out for him? Was Morgan Le Fay simply Lowery’s segue for the concept of Legend as a set path for Gawain to follow? But as such, Gawain’s tale of morality isn’t what it seems, as he doesn’t even have the illusion of choice. Or was it all just a journey back to nature, back to green? Lowery never lets us forget just what color matters most here. There’s even a fun monologue about it! Even the design of the Green Knight is just a little too on the nose; his appearance essentially being that of an ent. 

About 2/3 of the way through, The Green Knight actually shows a hint of promise, but it is short-lived. In case you haven’t already lost interest with the lengthy side quests; everything turns sour at the arrival of Lord and Lady Bertilak’s castle (simply titled Lord and Lady), and what should be the bulk of our story, the “exchange of gifts” and Gawain’s true test of morality. The “exchange of gifts” is glossed over for a taste of something completely different, as it takes major liberties with not only a core part of our tale, but arguably what’s most memorable about the original. It becomes Lowery’s convoluted vision of a different sort entirely, one where Gawain seemingly refuses to take part in his own story. While possibly an interesting take in itself, it does a disservice to the text, and accomplishes nothing other than an attempt to be shocking. 

There’s something richer in the “exchange of gifts” simply not explored in Lowery’s version, or the compulsive need to “subvert”, and the film is poorer for it. How can you even subvert something which you refuse to touch upon? It’s also extremely odd and honestly baffling, that in this day and age, homosexual themes and undertones would be downplayed or outright rejected (as they are here), rather than embraced and explored. Altogether, this omission seems a poor choice and a clear indication that Lowery holds little to no affection for the original text. Disregarding the “exchange of gifts”, the journey becomes something vain and hollow; perhaps intentionally, but doesn't serve anyone, least of all the story. 

Following the tale’s example, the girdle (sans the accompanying scar) is the all-encompassing symbol for Gawain’s shame, but Lowery takes it a step further, in which he is so seduced by its promise of protection that he literally soils it with his lust. But this scene is so abrupt at the all too brief “exchange of gifts” (in a film that stretches everything to excess) that it seems to lack consideration and its only purpose is to disturb. The girdle furthermore becomes a symbol of his unearned and unholy life (which we’re shown), were he to continue to fail to accept his fate and his test, although this too seems superfluous. What’s interesting here is that in either scenario, Gawain remains undeserving. He is not especially virtuous, he’s not even decent from what we can see, and has failed in almost every chivalric aspect; after all, he is “no knight”. Even so, in the original, even the Green Knight can’t begrudge his lack of fidelity in this one aspect; “because you wanted to live, so I blame you the less”.

A message of The Green Knight seems to be acting out of selflessness as the only indicator of a truly good deed, with no expectation of reward. This is evident in the dismissal of the “exchange of gifts” and Winifred’s admonishment, "Why would you ever ask me that?", but this message is so muddled within the world of the film, that it’s somehow also completely out of place. After all, Gawain is rewarded in a way, with several of his trappings, which are returned to him after being stolen. Speaking of rewards for good deeds, religious themes are also notably lacking, favoring the pagan angle (as expected of A24), though which is never expounded upon. There is the decision to keep some not-so-subtle imagery of crippled Christianity; i.e Gawain’s shield (with Mary’s visage on the inside and a small pentangle on the exterior) and a cross at the Green Chapel. 

Lowery gets too hung up on a confused mix of vague and painfully obvious ideas of symbolism and makes huge, unwarranted leaps. His work here reeks of self-indulgence, to the point of parody. It’s also simply never clear what anyone’s intentions are, his least of all. His ideas are so flighty and changeable that contradictions abound in the finished product (It’s clear why he needed all that extra time to re-cut). The whole thing is so nebulous that it may fool some into thinking it’s beyond their grasp, but it just reads as pretentious. The thing is, The Green Knight tries to be too many things at once, and in doing so, fails at all of them. Lowery lacks the conviction to support anything he presents and has no sense of narrative structure. Simply put, this film lacked proper direction and would have greatly benefited from fresh eyes on the script.

The Green Knight may question 'What is Honor and if it does exist, what is it worth? For even if there comes a time to prove yourself for Honor’s sake, what is it all for? “Is this all there is?”’, but Lowery drops the concept of Honor as soon as he picks it up and chooses to explore Legacy and Legend, and while it leads us on an interesting journey of interpretation, it’s very heavy-handed. It’s also difficult to answer any of these questions because Gawain is simply not worthy of anything. It’s not just that he is imperfect; he is not good and never acts out of selflessness or for the actual sake of Honor. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word. The original text asks us to stay true, true to our word and our values, in uncertainty and despite our fears (as a Good Knight should, and which Gawain ultimately is.) Lowery, on the other hand, begs us to forget the narrative, because he doesn’t know how to do it, and the search for meaning, because there is none. I’m not even sure he knows what he’s made.

Overall, though heavily burdened by its sluggish pace and lack of structural integrity, The Green Knight, at least on the surface, appears to be a somewhat earnest attempt at exploration within the fantasy/horror genre, asking a lot more questions than it answers. But while its visuals may dazzle, it’s a cold and unfeeling thing, devoid of all charm of the original tale, and can hardly be called an adaptation for many of its choices.

Source: https://letterboxd.com/avega007/film/the-green-knight/ 

(I wasn’t expecting to go off when I just got a letterboxd, but this film left me heated.)

[ducktracy]

174. get rich quick porky (1937)

release date: august 28th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky), cal howard (gabby), earle hodgins (honest john)

another cartoon that entails a lengthy preface! 

while this is bob clampett’s second piece as a director, it’s the first cartoon where he has full control of the helm. his previous entry, porky’s badtime story, was started by ub iwerks, who as preceded the unit. but, technically, clampett was co-directing with chuck jones.

here’s where the famous Clampett-Jones rivalry settles in. bob clampett and chuck jones did not get along. even friz freleng mentioned that they had been fighting like kids since they WERE kids, which is very true. clampett and jones would have both been 24 at the time of the cartoon’s release, jones turning 25 in september. chuck jones thought that he was co-directing the shorts with clampett, doing character layouts (which WAS a very hefty job and considered a director’s job) while clampett did the writing and timing of the shorts. however, the credits only credit clampett and not jones, so jones assumed that clampett had deliberately gotten rid of jones’ credit (to which clampett didn’t have any control over). jones would therefore hold this grudge against clampett all the way to the grave--they were bitter rivals, and chuck especially was very outspoken about his disdain and contempt towards clampett. it’s unfortunate how such a big misunderstanding can be inflated into such a bitter rivalry, and even more unfortunate to see two great talents go against each other, but that explains that. we’re here to analyze their great cartoons, not gossip about them! (...well, not ALL the time, anyway.)

a second extra little treat is that this cartoon has an animator’s draft, courtesy of devon baxter, so that we can see who animated every single scene! devon also has a breakdown video posted so you can see the credits in conjunction with the assigned animation. thanks a bunch, devon!

gabby goat sings his swan song in this fun, light-hearted clampett entry tentatively titled the oily bird gets porky: porky and gabby are easily swindled by honest john, a snake oil (emphasis on the oil portion!) salesman who scams the boys into thinking they’ve struck it rich digging for oil.

“when my dreamboat comes home” fittingly scores the title card as the cartoon opens. in some clever signage play, the camera trucks back to reveal the title card posted on a sign--the screen fades out, fading back in to reveal a new sign (now scored with the appropriate “with plenty of money and you”) advertising “oh! ~~~ just oodles of oil!”, with the oil typography actually dripping, courtesy of norm mccabe.

john carey provides the animation of the facetiously named honest john, the antagonistic oil huckster of the film. a fun bit of clampett continuity: from 1959-1962, clampett would make a cartoon adaptation of his hit puppet series time for beany. one of the characters, the show’s antagonist, was actually named dishonest john! honest john chuffs on a cigarette (his wealth and snootiness indicated by the cigarette holder he sports) as a truck driver asks where to deposit his “erl”. john, voiced by earle hodgins, redirects the trucker to park around the fence. it is then that john attaches a hose from the oil tank attached to the truck to a sprinkler system, and presto! sweet, bubbling “erl” spouts up from hidden sprinklers within a patch of land. carey’s animation is very smooth and dimensional, a telltale trait of his work.

satisfied, john now opts to search for his next pair of suckers (”ahem. i should say prospects. someone with a little money to invest in...”) lo and behold, his pair of suckers are right across the street, marching up to the bank. 

said suckers, are, of course, porky and gabby, now cast as children. for porky especially, his age was inconsistent in the ‘30′s and early ‘40′s cartoons--sometimes he was a child, sometimes he was an adult. more often than not, he was a young adult, and would obviously remain that way through the vast majority of his filmography, but there are a few exceptions, such as here. after all, he did debut as a school child. bobe cannon animates the closeup of the duo at the bank, porky toting a bag of money. gabby, voiced here by storyman cal howard as opposed to mel blanc, urges porky not to store away his money (”let’s buy us a car, or a yacht, or a trip to europe, or a chocolate soda or somethin’!), but porky refuses. “uh-uh, i’m eh-geh-geh-geh-gonna sock my eh-meh-mo-mo--dough in here and get eh-teh-teh-two percent!” bobe’s animation of porky is easy to spot in the clampett toons, especially around 1938-1939, where he would typically draw porky with buck teeth.

suddenly, honest john swoops in himself to stop the boys from going any further. he introduces himself as john gusher, doing some gushing of his own as he describes how fortune is going to smile down upon them. jerry hathcock’s timing is excellent as he shows the kid his card, zipping it out of his pocket and back in again at the blink of an eye. without giving the boys any time to think for themselves, john pushes the kids to the oil site, ranting and raving about the wondrous business opportunity before them. to demonstrate, john jabs his cane into the soil, where a mini oil gusher spurts up on command--”presto!”

more succinct comedic timing as john, finally winding down his spiel, concludes “i won’t take any more of your valuable time. a little parting word, let me say...” after a pause, he jumps right back in with a breathless delivery of “this land is so saturated with oil that you can literally wring it out with your fingers!” he does, of course, just that, much to the delight of the kids. 

john carey takes over and does a rather impressive little scene of porky and gabby contemplating signing the deed. gabby urges porky on, telling him that they won’t get another chance like this (prompting a rather humorous delivery of “uh... ‘til death do us part” from earle hodgins as john.) carey’s animation is extremely smooth, brimming with subtle character action. porky and gabby’s differences shine, but also unite: gabby is much more outspoken about his eagerness to sign the deed, nudging porky and literally pushing him to sign the deed. porky, on the other hand, is more cautious and timid, having to mull it over by thinking and tapping his chin with the pen. but, of course, porky shares gabby’s excitement--it doesn’t take much for him to change his mind. he signs the deed, gabby excitedly looming over his shoulder. even the animation of john tapping and signaling towards the deed is well crafted. john carey’s animation is very appealing--once chuck jones would leave the clampett unit, carey would take over as his layout man, all the way until 1941 when he moved to norm mccabe’s unit. 

the boys are now excused, free to dig for oil. the shift from minor to major key in the underscore of “with plenty of money and you” reflects their excitement as they rush to get the equipment. bobe cannon animates gabby drilling into the soil--he strikes something, and sure enough, he hauls up an entire canister of oil. he’s delighted, rather than outraged or confused at being scammed, gleefully remarking “porky, look! oil!”

thus sparks the B plot of the cartoon. this isn’t as segmented as other clampett cartoons with A and B plots as, say, porky’s party, but it’s a start--clampett would sort of introduce the concept of having A and B plots in his cartoons, which wasn’t quite something that existed before in pre-existing warner bros. cartoons (off the top of my head, anyway.) a stray dog stumbles upon the oil site, curiously approaching the dirt pile left by porky as he digs for sweet, sweet “erl”. much to the dog’s delight, porky digs up a bone, which the dog takes away and buries for himself. the scene (animated by bill hammer) definitely takes inspiration after the rising popularity in pluto cartoons over at disney, demonstrating that WB wasn’t entirely free from the disney stranglehold just yet.

 as the dog digs, the bone is suddenly propelled into the air by a mini-gusher. dog carefully covers the gusher by lowering the bone down, but gets smacked in the face in the process as the gusher propels upwards once more. bill hammer was an animator over at the iwerks unit, and a bit of that iwerks flavor is still present in the dizzy lines hammer animates after the dog gets struck in the head with the bone. resigned, the pooch covers the hole back up, only to get squirted in the eye by another gusher. and, to top it all off, we have more Naughty Clampett Humor as the gusher from before brushes against the dog’s nether regions, prompting him to giggle delightedly. this isn’t the first nor last gag of its kind in a warner bros cartoon--especially a clampett cartoon! frantically, the dog attempts to plug up all of the rapidly appearing gushers beneath him, a double-exposure technique used to convey the urgency of his plight. gushers prevail as the pup is launched into the air, propelled by a stream of oil beneath each paw. in all, the scene drags along and definitely plays into that “curious puppy” humor filled with polite chuckles, but some of hammer’s poses and facial expressions make for a treat.

back to the boys in the next sequence, handled by bobe cannon. gabby, perched on a jackhammer, asks porky how to operate it, but he immediately begins drilling uncontrollably before he can finish his sentence. cal howard’s vocals as gabby are amusing, especially his ad-libbed cries for help--his gabby is less scratchy and high pitched than mel’s gabby, and instead deeper voiced and more goat-like in inflection, sounding like he’s bleating at certain points. porky rushes to speak into the hole that gabby dug himself into, anxiously asking “uh-guh-eh-guh-eh-gabby! uh-weh-eh-where are ya?” gabby answers his query by digging out of an adjacent hole, breaking cartoon physics by drilling and floating upside down in the air. he manages to land safely, the drill stopping just enough for him to chew porky out for not helping him. and, of course, the drill starts up again, sending gabby within the earth’s soil once more. porky asks if he’s alright, prompting a bleat-y “what do you think!?” from an offscreen gabby. it should be noted that the underscore here is, of course, “the merry go round broke down”, a rather fitting and amusing choice. interestingly enough, clampett’s next entry, roval’s rival, would be the first cartoon to debut that song as the looney tunes theme song, which would be used all the way up until the last short in 1969.

chuck jones hones in on one of his three specialties: dogs (the others being drunks and close-ups--sometimes all three at once!) he animates the malcontent pooch fiddling with his bone. a bump in the ground, and a gopher pops up, doing a little twirl in the process, bugs bunny style, like a magic trick. clampett always fostered a love of magic tricks, and this fascination pokes through in this scene. the gopher signals for the dog’s attention before ducking inside the hole, much to the dog’s delight--a hole to bury his bone into! as he tosses the bone inside, he’s treated with a rude awakening as the bone is hurled right back up out of the hole. jones’ timing varies wonderfully--the dog is slow to put his bone back in the hole, but once he does he jumps to cover it up quickly, resulting in some intriguing psuedo-smears. after all, it would be his own cartoon, the dover boys at pimento university, that really brought the magic of smears to life. the animation of the dog twitching his eye on one’s is another great touch.

the gopher returns to bonk the dog on the head with the bone, which segues into a series of magic tricks (scored fittingly with “she was an acrobat’s daughter”.) the gopher shrinks the bone into his hand, reducing it to nothingness, much to the befuddlement of the pooch. tried and true, the gopher brings the bone out from behind the dog’s ear, pointing at it excitedly as the pup can only stare in bewilderment. gopher buries the bone, signaling for the dog to dig it back up. delighted, fido digs for his beloved bone, and is greeted with a spurt of oil right in the face. to top it off, the gopher brings the bone out from the recesses of the dog’s mouth, ending the show by retreating back in his hole. heartbroken, the pup begins to cry mournfully, pounding his fists against the ground and kicking his legs. in all, the scene is a very nice one. not very snappy, but chuck’s timing is full of momentum and personality, and his drawings are very appearing. there are some angles of the dog’s head that just SCREAM chuck jones--they look like something straight out of one of his cartoons. some aspects of these magic tricks, such as the gopher shrinking the bone to nothingness, would be used in chuck’s own cartoon, prest-o change-o, a mere two years later in 1939. the gopher itself IS very bugs bunny-esque in execution.

transition back to our piggy protagonist, hacking away at the ground with a pick-axe. he hits a sweet spot, excitedly reaching for his bucket as oil spurts out of the ground. just as he’s able to collect a few drops, we cut to our favorite huckster john, who snickers as he turns the hose valve off, thus eliminating the geyser. porky digs again, this time striking one of the sprinkler systems connected to the hose. we get a closeup, where porky is squirted straight in the eye by the hose.

honest john himself opts to scope things out. “what’s the matter, sonny boy? you aren’t discouraged, are you?” porky displays his childlike innocence (a property that would carry on to his adult years as well, but is especially strong here since he is a kid in this picture) as he wipes away his tears. “you’re je-je-je-just a crook, and i want my muh-me-muh-me-muh-me-money back!” john, ever the haggler, proposes that porky return the deed in return for a $1 bill. 

norm mccabe takes over from john hathcock, whose animation is muddied by noticeably poor inking. pan to the ground, where we see a black slick hiding under the soil, the words “OIL!” bubbling up to make its appearance obvious, with gabby drilling dangerously close to it. pan back up to more norm mccabe animation, a switch--clampett LOVED to switch his animators around. so much so that identifying his later cartoons can be infuriatingly difficult because he would switch his animators in the middle of a scene out of seemingly nowhere. he wasn’t the only director to do this, but he certainly did it often. nevertheless, we pan back to porky and john. porky trepidatiously prepares to hand john the deed, who greets it with outstretched hands. just as gloves prepare to make contact with paper, gabby strikes the “SAME OIL!”, the typography playfully melting into a true oil geyser as goat, weasel, and pig are all catapulted into the air by a real, genuine gusher, scored by (what else?) “we’re in the money”. the layout of the oil geyser raining down upon the camera is at a nice up-angle, very tashlin-esque and intricate, if only for a second or two.

gabby still drills aimlessly around on the geyser as porky, holding onto the deed with john, remarks “a guh-gusher! i’m r-ri--i’m w-we-weal--i’m a buh-be-buh-be-buh-billionaire!” suddenly, porky realizes he’s still holding onto the deed with john, and thus sparking a tug of war between the two as he stutters threats (”i’ll tell my be-be-big brother on you!”) to the huckster. 

thankfully, gabby, who has been drilling aimlessly for the past few minutes, saves the day by accidentally drilling into the back of john’s pants. earle hodgins’ screams are hilarious (and sound almost genuine), as is bill hammer’s animation of the weasel being held hostage by the drill running around in the back of his pants. the deed is now in porky’s clutches, who grabs gabby and pulls the both of them to the ground. hammer’s drawings of porky especially in this last shot of them preparing to fall down are very, VERY appealing and cute.

both kids on the ground, porky holds up the white, elongated object in his hand, gleefully declaring he got the deed... or so he thinks. jerry hathcock does porky’s closeup as he realizes the precious deed he holds in his hand is, in fact, a bone.

dejected, the kids are left to mope, until a little bump in the ground comes to solve all of their problems. chuck jones animates the final scene of the Magic Gopher coming in to save the day: porky hands him the bone, and, much to his head-shaking surprise, is met with the deed right in the gopher’s hands after just a flick of the wrists. porky reaches out for the deed, prompting the gopher to shake his finger--always a catch. 

“partners? 50-50, even steven?” porky nods. with the deal made, the gopher helpfully rips the deed in half, giving porky the bottom half. iris out on the gopher winking, holding up the top half of the deed (emblazoned as such) in victory.

while this isn’t the most rousing clampett entry of them all, it’s certainly one that i revisit quite often and am rather fond of. it has plenty of fun and intriguing animation--john carey’s scene of the boys signing the deed is just fantastic. his animation is very grounded and smooth. while the psuedo-pluto scenes aren’t the most exciting pieces of work around, the chuck jones sequence with the gopher and dog are especially impressive, highlighting just how strong jones’ draftmanship was. clampett’s cartoons became much more wild and loose after jones left the unit (just look at porky in wackyland), and chuck certainly seemed to ground clampett, but at the same time, the lack of jones’ draftsmanship was rather apparent upon his exit. he’s a very strong force, and that sequence with the dog is no exception. earle hodgins does a great job as honest john, as well as voicing salesmen in general--he was also the salesman in tex avery’s porky the rainmaker a year earlier. i love mel blanc to death and have nothing but praises to shower him in, but it is always fun to have other people like earle hodgins to come up and voice characters alongside him. cal howard does a fine job as gabby, too.

speaking of gabby, as i mentioned earlier, this is his final cartoon. i have this odd fascination with gabby. these clampett cartoons i’m going to be reviewing are some of the first LT cartoons i watched as an adult, and therefore have a fonder place in my heart than others. so, watching the iwerks cartoons that clampett was heavily involved in, gabby was introduced to me VERY early on and i’ve been fascinated with him since. out of his three entries, he became more and more watered down: his fury and anger is practically nonexistent here in comparison to how bitter he was in porky and gabby. while i find him interesting, i don’t shed too many tears over his absence--daffy will always be porky’s best sidekick, and i’m not saying that because i’m biased! nevertheless, gabby is an interesting enigma, serving as WB’s failed attempt at a donald duck for porky’s mickey (who is much richer in personality than mickey himself, as we’ll explore, much to my unbridled excitement!) gabby WAS slated to return in porky’s party, alongside petunia, but was instead scrapped for a penguin character instead. thus, gabby would take a near 80 year absence, being revived in 2018 in wabbit/new looney tunes, voiced by bob bergen. 

so, overall, i recommend this cartoon! i view it more fondly than it probably needs to be viewed, but it’s a fun, early entry that makes for a good, leisurely watch. 

link!

[crystaljins]

When the ice melts

Characters: Jimin x Reader

Word count: 10.8K

Synopsis:  They say never meet your heroes, and never has that been truer than when you meet your idol- former figure skater and two time Olympic athlete, Park Jimin. But maybe you can turn things around...

Sports!au (Figure skating) + prompt: “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Notes: Here is my entry for the btsboulangerie August prompt! I will say, the only things I know about figure skating is from hours of watching Yuzuru Hanyu skate and let’s be real, he inspired a lot of the plotline to this fic. Do yourself a favour and look up the following things on youtube before reading:  Yuzuru Hanyu’s performance at the 2014 Cup of China, his performance to Notte Stellata, and Mao Asada’s performance to Rachmaninoff’s Concerto No. 2 (I can send you the links to all of these if you PM me ;).)

Huge shoutout to @yoongi-sugaglider for her inspiration and encouragement while writing this fic.

EDIT: Now with bonus drabble found here.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, bits of angst and fluff, a few scenes that a bit suggestive but not explicit, mentions of hooking up at a club.

 You’re sceptical from the moment you set foot into the club.

“Are you sure he’s here, Jungkook?” You call out urgently to your friend, struggling to keep up with him amidst the mass of pulsating bodies. You’re surprised he hears you over the heavily thumping bass.

“This is the kind of place you’re always going to find Jimin in. At least since his accident, that is.” Jungkook answers ominously as he continues to plough carelessly forward. He is nowhere near as uneasy as you are in such a place. As he loves to remind you, he has actively engaged in a social life outside of the ice rink you spend most of your waking hours in. In fact, after high school he actually lost most of his interest in being on the ice, despite his former status as a talented and well-loved hockey player. Instead he now focuses his attention into his degree in sports science. He still works at the ice rink your father owns part time, however, and it was during one of his shifts that he let slip that he personally knew your hero and idol, Park Jimin.

It was that fact that had led you to your current location. Park Jimin, two-time Olympic gold medallist and possibly the most skilled and talented figure skater in the history of the sport, had dropped off the ice-skating radar just two years prior. Such a fact had not deterred you from viewing him with the adoration and eagerness that only a loyal fan could understand. And so, the revelation that your good friend Jungkook knew him personally could only have one possible outcome. You had demanded that he introduce you to your hero. You’ve been a fan of Jimin since his first gold medal win at the tender age of 16, while you had been a starry-eyed 12-year-old taking figure skating lessons in the ice rink your father owned. And after much pestering and begging, Jungkook finally agreed to arrange your meeting.

Had Jungkook more tact and emotional sensitivity, he may have possibly taken you aside and reminded you of the sobering fact: One should never meet one’s hero. He does no such thing, however, and you are so busy in your eager plotting of how you could ask Jimin to coach you that you don’t even pause to consider the fact that you might be disappointed.  

As it stands, you nearly collide with Jungkook’s sturdy back when he halts without warning before a plush booth built into the wall of the night club. Your heart nearly skips a beat- this is it, you realise, as you lean ever so slightly to peer around your friend’s back. This is the pinnacle of your career. From the moment you first laid eyes on Jimin’s skills, you have eagerly awaited this moment. His poster has been on your bedroom wall for nearly ten years at this stage. You’ve never been fortunate to see one of his routines live- this is the first opportunity you have ever had to see your role model up close. You inhale deeply as you focus your eyes on his figure.

Only to find him otherwise occupied. He is engaged in a fierce lip-lock with a young woman who seems very comfortable seated upon his lap. Immediately you are mortified and straighten, allowing Jungkook to once more obscure your view of Jimin. It is not like you expected much from his meeting, or that you had anything more than the sort of crush a schoolgirl might have on a celebrity, but it is still, for some reason, crushing to see him in such a way. Your intentions in meeting him had been entirely innocent- you just want him to choreograph your next routine for the competition you have coming up. You had been recruited for the national team on the Olympics just 6 months earlier and this will be your last solo competition before you begin training with the national team for the Olympics which takes place in just one year. A chance to work with Park Jimin would be a tick on your bucket list. Still, your visceral reaction is also due to the realisation that perhaps Jungkook had not warned Jimin that he had arranged your meeting. Which means your request could be entirely unwelcome.

Jungkook seems undeterred by Jimin’s activities and folds his arms. He clears his throat loudly. The music is quieter here and normal conversation is possible, but Jimin does not immediately detangle from his… friend and so you think that perhaps he hasn’t heard Jungkook. But Jungkook merely waits and eventually Jimin pulls away with a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m busy.” Jimin snaps, and these are the first words you hear from your hero. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I only agreed to meet you here and not in a coffeeshop because you promised you wouldn’t pull this kind of stunt. You’re being rude to my friend.” Jungkook complains. Jimin smiles apologetically at the girl in his lap, who seems unbothered by the interruption and merely gets to her feet and vanishes into the crowd without a word of greeting. Jimin stares after her for a long moment before allowing his gaze to settle on you and Jungkook. You suddenly feel exposed beneath his stare- you should have dressed more nicely, more impressively. Isn’t appearance so important in the sport you have chosen? The unimpressed expression upon Jimin’s face as his eyes slide passively over you certainly confirms that.

“Hello,” You begin with an awkward smile, ducking your head politely. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you! I’m (Y/N) and I wanted to ask you if you’d-“

“This is the girl you were telling me about, Kook?” Jimin interrupts. Up close, he is beautiful in a way that cameras and youtube videos cannot portray. His face is smooth and sculpted and there is a chilling beauty to the detached way he regards you. There is also a subtle disgust to his gaze that mars his handsome features, however. And its directed purely at you- beneath its intensity you feel your gut roll and you battle the urge to empty the contents of your stomach before his neatly polished shoes. “Her?” He repeats for emphasis. “In the Olympics?”

Jungkook, ever the loyal friend, looks like he may actually leap to your defence. But you are quicker. Though you have always been on the quieter side, too preoccupied with your sport to focus on much else, you have never lacked a backbone. And if there’s one thing you are confident about, it is your skill on the ice. Suddenly you feel anger. How dare Jimin, legendary ice skater or not, evaluate your skill and worthiness to be in the Olympics without even having glimpsed your ice skating? How dare he be so shallow as to think your outward appearance is in anyway indicative of your passion and joy in your beloved sport?

“How dare you.” You snarl. Jimin looks mildly amused at your anger and watches you through narrowed eyes.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” He mocks. He leans forward and rests his chin idly in his hand. His hair is pushed up and carefully done and it is no wonder that women would fawn over him in such away. He is unfairly handsome in his white button down and well-fitted black trousers. “Do you think you’re special? Do you even know what it takes to get to the Olympics? Because I do, and,” He looks you up and down, your frumpy sweater and messy hair. He wrinkles his nose. You’d come straight from the rink because Jungkook hadn’t told you Jimin would be at a club, and so you look completely out of place. “I don’t think you have it.”

“You haven’t even seen me skate.” You retort hotly. You had never imagined you would one day address your idol with such contempt. But he has proven to be anything but the man you used to worship. Jimin seems surprised at your vitriolic interruption. You look at Jungkook, who looks apologetic and inhale deeply. “I was going to ask you to coach me, and honestly, I would have walked away without a complaint if you’d just said no. But you don’t get to judge my worthiness to be on the ice without even seeing how I skate. I bleed, sweat, and cry on that ice. You don’t get to scoff at me before you’ve even seen what I can do.”

You cannot, for the life of you, give a reason behind your next action. But fuelled by your anger and indignance, you reach into your bag and pull out a crumpled flyer, with the address and directions to your father’s ice rink printed across it. You hold it out towards Jimin who, after a moment of hesitation, accepts the piece of paper.

“I’ll be here practicing tomorrow, if you change your mind and want to see what I can do.” You say quickly. “If you want a chance to be part of something big, then I guess I’ll see you there. But if you want to sit here and get drunk and reminisce about when you had what it took, then be my guess. Have fun watching me perform at the Olympics and knowing you could have been there with me.”

And with that, you stride off, leaving Jimin alone at his booth with an impressed Jungkook in tow.

“Wow, ice queen,” Jungkook calls, when you’re outside the club and able to converse at a normal volume once more. “I never thought you had it in you.”

You don’t pause your hurried walking, however, until you are sure you have left the club well behind.

And then you promptly crumble to the ground, hands shaking and eyes wide.

“Did I… did I really just say all that?” You asks breathily, dizzy now that the adrenaline and anger has fled your system. “To the Park Jimin?” Jungkook laughs and pulls you to your feet with a hand around your arm.

“You absolutely did.” Jungkook declares proudly. “And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees you skating tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t have said all that!” You lament, and Jungkook laughs.

“As much as I love him, Jimin has needed a kick in the arse ever since his injury and he needs more in his life than just alcohol and girls. You did a good thing. Now come on, I’ll drop you home so you can get a good rest before showing Jimin how it’s really done.” Jungkook reassures you, dragging you off before you can freak out any further.

And you placidly follow, now filled with dread at what is to come.

++

The sun is too bright and the inside of Jimin’s mouth tastes worse than a men’s urinal. He’s hungover and grumpy and your irritating words ring in his head. And the absolute icing on the cake- he wakes up alone in his bed, instead of with the hot girl he’d been on the verge of going home with before you showed up. He’s going to kill Jungkook. He should have known from the second that Jungkook offhandedly mentioned he had a friend good enough to be in the Olympics that last night was going to suck.

So then, why the hell does Jimin find himself gazing with disgust at the ice rink you had mentioned you’d be practicing at, not an hour after that awful wakeup? He can still vaguely taste vomit in the back of his throat and the sunglasses he wears aren’t big enough or dark enough to lessen the stabbing sensation from the sun. He shouldn’t have drunk nearly as much as he did last night but he’d needed to forget. Your voice and your face and that look in your eyes. The spark, as you had talked about your skating. He’s seen it before- he used to see it every day, when he looked in the mirror before leaving for early morning practice. That spark has long since died- it’s been gone since the moment the doctors told him he would never skate competitively again.

It’s not too late- he can still leave. Pretend he never saw you and that your words didn’t burrow frustratingly deep beneath is skin. He could go back to his life of partying and drinking and struggling to forget a life he cannot leave behind. But he doesn’t want to. He needs vindication- he needs to see how bad you are, so that he can close up the gaping wound you’d reopened. So many old feelings of hurt and bitterness and agony have suddenly been dredged up and he needs something to seal it over. To ignore the ragged, ugly scar on his heart, and this time all the alcohol and drugs and women in the world will not smooth the rough edges. So he sips aggressively from the cheap coffee he’d picked up on the way which tastes like garbage and doesn’t even bother to remove his shades as he steps into the ice-skating rink.

At this hour, there is no one present but you. He’s momentarily taken aback to see you, alone in the centre of the rink. You look different to the uneasy, poorly dressed young woman from last night. You had looked like a geek desperately in need of a makeover from a cheesy teen movie, but the lone figure in a sapphire blue dress ice looks… different. He can’t find the words but something foreign heats in his veins as he is overcome with something other than the nausea and disgust that he usually feels when presented with any aspect of his past.

Music startles him as it crackles in through the speaker. His heart leaps into his throat as he recognises the tune- Notte Stellata. You don’t even know he’s there, yet it can’t be a coincidence that that is the song you have chosen to practice. You extend your arms slowly in a delicate pose as the opening strains filter slowly through the air and he sees your shoulders raise in a gentle inhale.

And then you are gliding across the ice. If the spark he had seen in your eyes last night was enough to plague his thoughts for so many hours, it is nothing compared to the way you smoothly cut through the rink. Perhaps, he thinks, you were not born. Perhaps you were carefully crafted with a loving heart to soar on angel wings formed from thin silver blades. You lift into the air in a triple lutz and land with the lightness and grace of a swan and then you extend your arms outwards.

You’re beautiful. But suddenly it is not you or your performance that Jimin is seeing. Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, another figure that dances over the smooth pool. The figure cuts across the ice with an impressive power and grace- that figure brought tears to the eyes of people who knew nothing about figure skating. That figure was him. People called him the Swan, because of his grace and beauty on the ice. Magazine articles had described him as an artwork as intricate and valuable as the Mona Lisa or Van Gogh’s starry night. It was to this very song that he had stood on a podium at the Olympics and proudly received his first gold medal.

He squeezes his eyes shut before he can be greeted with what happened to that beautiful, mysterious figure. For it had all evaporated like a dream- the kind you awaken from with tears on your face without fully understanding why. His entire life had been ruined in one go. Just one year after his triumphant second gold medal win, he had been in a car accident. His body, carefully trained to float with ease over the ice, to make powerful, jaw-dropping manoeuvres seem as simple as inhaling and exhaling, had refused to obey him. A broken leg, shattered in a way that would never heal properly enough to allow him to competitively skate again. No amount of physiotherapy or surgery or desperation would allow him to shine in the Olympic rink again. There would be no third gold medal win. Every single moment of hard work throughout his entire youth was gone in a single accident.

And when he opens his eyes, only you remain on the ice, hauntingly beautiful in the way that he had thought only ice can be. Lonely and cold yet majestic. Figure skating is about conquering- about overcoming the harsh, unwelcoming cold and holding your ground through gravity defying flips and tricks. Constantly, the sport strips you of warmth and comfort and familiarity and requires gruelling work and pain and blood and danger. It takes something special to make something so ugly and painful look so beautiful. And that it what you have just done on the ice. Tears pour down his face and he is thankful for the way his sunglasses hide the agony that no doubt lingers in his expression. It’s been two whole year and yet the grief is as fresh as if it were yesterday. Somehow, despite the pains such a sport brings, his happiness was on that ice and it was been cruelly torn from him before he could even fathom what its loss would mean.

He clears his throat and covers his face by taking a long sip from his coffee cup as you are startled from your finishing pose. You were completely unaware of his presence and somehow that makes your performance more startingly beautiful- even alone, just practicing, there is such emotion and power in your skating. He now understands, why you were so offended when he brushed you off based off of a cursory glance. You are amazing- better even than he had been, perhaps.  And now he understands what you are- a chance to be part of something he had thought he had been removed from. He’s never been able to cut the love of figure skating away from himself- he would have better luck sawing out his own heart. And you have presented him with a chance to relive that joy- through you.

“A week,” He calls. Your hand is clasped over your heart, absolutely stunned by his presence. It is charming, that despite inviting him, you genuinely do not seem to have expected him to come. But he has come, and he’s going to take out all his fear and pain on you. He’s going to take you to the Olympics, and you have no one to blame but yourself. “Give me a week to work out a routine. You’re going to get a gold medal in this comp.”

And he can’t resist a parting shot as he leaves, before he takes his leave. Just one petty phrase, for the sake of his ego.

“Your landing for the double axel was too heavy and uncoordinated.”

And yet somehow you watch him go with an excited smile on your face.

++

A week later you arrive at the ice rink, your entire body pulsing with nerves. You had not thought Jimin would agree to choreograph your performance, and yet here you are. You can’t help but feel a bit of pride- your skating had clearly won him over, somehow. And so ,with your blood roaring through your veins, you take a step into the ice rink, feeling the familiar way cold air fills your lungs and settles into the base of your chest. You’ve always found the sensation enlivening- never are you more alive than when you are on the ice. And while you have your reservations about working with Jimin, especially after his rude behaviour, you cannot kill the flame of excitement that flickers deep in your stomach. This is a dream come true.

Jimin waits alone in the centre of the ice-skating rink. At your arriving footsteps, he turns slowly and watches your advance towards him with a curious look to his eyes. It’s an intensely probing stare, like he is evaluating every step of your body, measuring the weight that lands in your skates against the ground with each footstep. And then he slowly smiles and your heart flutters. Jimin is beautiful in an inhuman way and that he should ever look at you in such a way is more than your delicate heart can handle. You swallow deeply before stepping onto the ice and gliding towards him with a practiced ease you hope conveys grace and beauty.

Jimin tilts his head and keeps his arms folded across his chest as you stop before him. As you do you register the sombre, heavy tune of a piano concerto crackle through the speakers of your father’s ice-skating rink. It starts slow, with dark chords ringing through the air and climbing in intensity. Gradually the melody crests and builds until the piano erupts in a complex and powerful virtuosic passage, given weight and power by a grave string accompaniment.

“This was his second concerto.” Jimin says, instead of offering you a greeting. “Rachmaninoff’s, I mean. His first ever concerto was met with heavy criticism. It was an extremely challenging piece to write- it took him ten months to write and yet his efforts were spat on. And in the three years that followed he was depressed from the backlash and unable to write anymore. This song is his return after three years of darkness, and it brought his career back from the dead. This,” He informs you. “Is the song you will perform to at the competition for your free program.”

You stare wonderingly at Jimin for a moment and shut your eyes as the mood of the piece shifts to something lighter and freer. The piano bounces along and the orchestra follows behind yet hints of the initial darkness still linger despite the bright tone. You can hear it- the composer’s pain, his determination to clamber back from the pits of despair. You want to dance to this song. An intense longing fills you.

“Can you do it? It won’t be an easy piece to skate to.” Jimin asks, and you peer back at him with your jaw set in determination. The expression wins a slight smile from him.

“I can.” You reassure him. He nods and walks forward. He is not wearing skates- instead he wears heavy boots on the ice. Likely, the instability in his ankle means he cannot balance in skates without significant pain. And you are his chance to overcome that, you suppose. You will do for him what he can no longer achieve.

And thus begins your gruelling practice. You’ve pushed yourself hard before but never in the way that Jimin pushes you. Jimin, much as you suspected he would, has very little patience and his little experience with teaching means he gets frustrated easily when you do not pick things up in the way that he assumed you would. You are soaking in sweat as practice goes on despite the fact the ice-skating rink is kept at such a low temperature.

“Extend your leg further.” Jimin urges, combing a hand through his hair in frustration for what is probably the fifth time. “The pose looks messy if you’re all loose and floppy like that.” You wince and attempt to follow his instruction once more. You’ve been going for hours by this stage. “Once more from the triple lutz.” He snaps, stepping off the ice to give you the room to launch into such a complex and difficult leap. But your body is exhausted from such intensive exercise and from the second you catapult yourself in the air you know you’ve done it wrong. You lift unevenly into the air and though you clench your core and attempt to right yourself, it is too late. You come down at completely the wrong angle and wince as your ankle takes the brunt of your weight. Pain lances up your leg as you crumble, and your body continues to slide.

When you lose enough momentum to begin picking yourself back up off the ice, Jimin skids to a halt, sending up a spray of ice chips. He’s clearly carelessly sprinted across the ice to get to you and he throws himself down beside you without a thought as to his wellbeing. You hadn’t thought him capable of such concern for someone other than himself.

“Are you ok?” He cries out in alarm, wrapping his hands around your outstretched ankle. Despite the low temperature of the room, his fingers are somehow still warm, and you had not realised how chilled your body was until you feel the heat encircle your leg. Carefully, he rolls the ankle you had landed on back and forth and around, scrutinising your face for the slightest hint of pain. It is tender, but you know tomorrow you’ll wake up and not even remember what ankle you had hurt.

“I’m fine.” You wave him off with a smile. “Let’s try that again.” You say, about to get up, but a firm hand against your shoulder keeps you down.

“No.” Jimin almost growls, and there is a sternness and barely repressed anger to the glare he gives you that pins you in place. “It was stupid of me to push you this hard. Let’s get dinner and we can pick it back up tomorrow if you’re feeling ok. We’ll get some ice on this too.”

Despite your protests, Jimin decides to take you out for dinner that night. You almost succeed in wriggling out of it, but a growl of your stomach has him urging you to come along with renewed determination. And to make it more embarrassing, as soon as you arrive at the restaurant, he drags over a second chair and makes you rest your injured leg on it, placing the ice pack over your tender ankle with a gentleness that makes you uneasy for reasons you cannot understand.

“That’s more than enough for today.” He scolds you. “You need to take care of yourself after an injury or you won’t make it very far.”

He settles opposite you and orders you both food.

“My coach used to always take me out for hot soup afterwards. Said we had to warm ourselves up after being in the cold so long.” He remembers fondly as the two of you await your meals. He seems so different from the asshole you met in the club a mere week ago and you still aren’t even sure what made him change so drastically. “He was the best coach in the world. I only made it to the Olympics thanks to him.”

“Are you trying to follow in his footsteps?” You ask in an attempt to subtly determine his motive. Jimin shrugs and shakes his head as the waitress sets down two steaming hot bowls of soup before you.

“Who knows.” He admits. “Even I’m not sure what I’m trying to achieve. A week ago, all I cared about was getting drunk enough to forget what the Olympics were.”

He watches you curiously as you lean forward and raise a spoonful of salty broth to your lips.

“Why did you come, then?” You say, finally asking the question that has been itching at you since you received the text asking you to come to the ice rink. You can probably guess the answer, but you want to hear it from him. He’s made a drastic change after his awful first impression and you aren’t entirely sure he’s someone you can trust yet.

Jimin doesn’t answer for a long moment. Instead he takes a long sip of his soup and fidgets with the noodles that float in the broth. Finally, he raises his eyes to you and there’s a look to his eyes that you can’t seem to interpret. Somehow it is a gaze filled with sadness and yet he looks so peaceful at the same time.

“I love skating.” He admits. “There was a time where it was my whole world. To have it taken so suddenly, with no warning…” He sighs and shakes his head. “I felt like I had nothing yet. But I believe that sometimes we are given second chances, and that’s what you are. My second chance. I want to see you in the Olympic rink. I want the entire world to shed tears because they’ve seen true beauty. And I can’t convey that beauty anymore, but you can. I know you can.” He confesses, and to his credit, his ears are only tinged the slightest bit pink. You stare at him, completely gobsmacked. How can you even fathom such high praise? “But now it’s my turn, to ask you a question.” He admits, his eyes sharpening with interest. You wince, a little uncomfortable with the scrutiny, but you know it is necessary.

“Ask away.” You say, because you suppose that as your coach, he has a right to know about you to at least some degree.

“Why me?” He finally asks, after a moment of hesitation. “Where’s your coach? Why are you even entering this competition if you’ve already been selected to be on the Olympic team?”

The silence between the two of you stretches out for a long moment. You take the opportunity to shove a few mouthfuls of soup into your mouth. It’s not an unexpected question. In fact, he probably should have asked the question long before agreeing to coach you, to make sure he wasn’t stealing someone else’s athlete, and the fact that he hasn’t asked you before now means he probably senses it’s not a question you are ready to be asked. But with the atmosphere between the two of you warm and comfortable, now is the best time for him to ask.

“She died.” You say nonchalantly. The soup suddenly tastes bland, but you continue to eat it. It provides you a distraction from the heaviness of the conversation. “Six months ago. It was cancer. I had just gotten scouted to be on the national team and we realised she wouldn’t make it to the Olympics, probably. So this was our compromise. She was fighting so hard because she wanted to see me skate one last time and… she… she didn’t get to. She died a week later.”

Jimin stares at you in dismay, speechless. Perhaps he had suspected you’d had a falling out with your coach, or that you needed a new one now that you’ve been selected for the national team. He probably never could have guessed the horrible reality.

“(Y/N)…” He says softly. You shake your head and offer Jimin a slight smile.

“It’s fine.” You say. “I’m doing ok. My parents have been really supportive and have even been trying to find me a new coach. But I wanted you. I just thought it would be nice for my first comp after she… passed away. To this day, the routine you did to Notte Stellata brings me to tears and so I thought if you were the one choreographing, then I’d give a performance worthy of her legacy. One that she would have been proud to see.”

Jimin’s expression scrunches up at your words. You don’t shed a tear throughout the whole story even though it all feels so fresh. It still feels like she’s going to ring you and scold you for not being at practice or not following the strict diet regimen she always set for you. Somehow six months of grieving doesn’t feel like enough to get back on the ice, yet at the same time you are itching to go back out there. For her. She had been like a second mother to you and the fact that she didn’t get to see you skate one last time is a scar you know will never fully heal.

Jimin is a bit of an enigma, and you never know how he will react to something. Perhaps this is why his reaction to your story is such a surprise. He stares at you like he’s in pain. A single tear wells up in his left eye and rolls down his cheek, tracing down the smooth contours of his handsome face as it goes.

“Thank you. For that honour. I… Thank you. And I’m sorry for being harsh today. I’ve never been a teacher before and so I don’t know your limits or mine. But if you keep with me and tell me when I’ve gone too far, I believe we can do this.” He admits, and his voice is slightly raspy . “I… After I stopped skating, I didn’t have a purpose or goal in life. I’ve just kind of been… existing for so long. But… thank you. I think I finally have a purpose- I want to take you to the Olympics. I’d decided earlier that I want to go to the Olympics with you but I never actually asked you. Will you do it? Will you go to the Olympics with me?”

And Jimin is mean and harsh and awkward. He’s a drunkard and a loser and a shallow jerk. He’s not even qualified to be a coach and such an ambition with an inexperienced mentor could lead to the destruction of your own career. It would be foolish, to agree to go to the Olympics with him.

And then you recall, being a young teenager skating for the first time and watching his comps. Being lonely as you entered highschool with no friends and rushing home to watch his Olympic performance live. Following his rise to fame and shedding tears because his skating held a beauty you could not put into words. And therein lies your answer- it is thanks to the man sitting before you that you even dared to dream of the Olympics. Your dreams will always feel incomplete if it is not him you go to the Olympics with.

“Yes.” You say. “Let’s go to the Olympics together.”

++

After that first day, Jimin is softer and far less harsh. Every day he grows in patience. He remains a stern and difficult coach and choreographer, though. He pushes you far past what you think you can handle. But he never pushes you past what you can actually handle. He’s constantly vigilant, for signs of fatigue and always ends practice before you can go too far. And so, each night you go to bed and sleep deeply, satisfied with the work you have done. His choreography is technically difficult and extremely advanced and yet designed specifically with you, your capabilities and your strengths in mind. If you master it, it will carry you to a gold medal without any doubt.

It’s exciting. Who could have ever thought that one day it would be Park Jimin coaching you on the ice? Despite his inexperience with coaching, he knows figure skating really well and you find yourself improving drastically beneath his tutelage, as the months go by and the competition date approaches. He really could have a future as a coach if he was ever inclined to do so. If maybe he learned some people skills, that is.

“Extend your leg further,” He orders from behind you, placing a hand on your knee to prevent your instinct to fold it as he uses the hand wrapped around your ankle to lift your outstretched leg a bit higher. His hands are almost hot on the skin of your legs. You hadn’t realised how much your body had chilled beneath the air-conditioning of the gym you are currently in. You wince as he begins to hit the limits of your flexibility and wobble just the slightest bit.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he shoots you a glare.

“Was that a wobble?” He asks, his tone venomous. Your eyes go wide. Today is one of the days you practice off the ice- one foot is placed in the centre of a balance ball while Jimin adjusts your posture. Despite the ways in which you two have grown quite close, he still comes across as very menacing when he enters what you call “coach mode”.

“N-no.” You stutter as you lie. He releases your leg and you know he expects you to maintain the position. You do, though not without a slight fluctuation. Jimin’s sharp eyes catch the movement though and he walks around so that he is facing you, hands planted intimidatingly on his hips.

“A wobble could cost you your career.” He reminds you, and this is the third time he’s lectured you about this in the past three days. “All it takes is for you to launch yourself airborne from just slightly the wrong angle and you could break a leg.” He scowls, and he steps in close. You drop your outstretched leg and hop off the balance ball. You roll your eyes and fold your arms across your chest, refusing to cower at his ‘angry coach’ vibe. And maybe you would have gotten back on the balance ball obediently if it weren’t for the muttered, irritated comment that follows: “How can a figure skater be so inflexible?” He laments.

“Excuse me?” You blurt, eyes wide in outrage. “I am flexible!”

He winces, probably because he didn’t intend for you to overhear the comment, but also because he’s now quite familiar with the certain buttons he should never push while coaching you. For the most part, you are a reasonable student, one who follows his instructions diligently and practices hard. But any time the slightest comment is made about your skill or ability as a figure skater that isn’t constructive or contributing towards your improvement, you go slightly beserk. And this is one of those moments.

“I’ll prove it to you!” You cry, striding over to the yoga mat laid out in the corner. You almost throw yourself down on your back and glare at him. “Do the stretch! The warm-up hip one.” You order. He almost groans in irritation- the stretch in question is one he had suggested at a different practice to help keep your hips loose. But you had been too embarrassed to try it due to the intimacy of the positioning and so he hadn’t pushed you. But now, your pride has been hurt, and you are going to prove him wrong, embarrassment be damned. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, scolding himself for his slip up, before kneeling over you and locking his ankle over one of your outstretched legs. He then wraps his fingers around your other leg, placing the flat of one palm against the heel of your foot and the other over your knee, before slowly lifting one leg towards your head.

“Tell me when.” He says with a sigh, his tone resigned.

“I won’t.” You reassure him petulantly. “You’ll see how flexible I am.”

And really his comment was quite unnecessary, because flexibility is a vital skill as a figure skater. A fact which is demonstrated as Jimin continues to push your leg towards your head. You wait eagerly for him to admit that he was wrong as it reaches the point where you are almost doing the splits, but it never comes. Instead, Jimin has gone oddly quiet from where he kneels between your leg. Puzzled, you tilt your head to meet his gaze to find that his stare has gone oddly misty. His lips are slightly parted, and his eyes are fixed on where his hand presses to the heel of your foot.

“Jimin?” You call. It rings out oddly loud in the quietness of the section of the gym you are in, like a gunshot. Jimin flinches like he’s been punched in the stomach. His eyes land on yours and they are oddly wide. The expression reminds you of the face a child might pull if they were caught in the middle of stealing candy from a jar. Wide and panicked and a little bit glazed.

“I…” He says slowly, and his voice is a little bit croaky. He clears his throat and moistens his lips with his tongue before trying again. “I…”

You don’t get to find out what he was planning to say though, because in the next moment you hear Jungkook’s familiar voice call out.

“Special delivery!” He cries. Jimin drops your leg like he’s been burnt and scrambles away like you have rabies. He takes a moment to frantically smooth out his clothes and run his hands nervously through his hair, before turning to face the intruder who strides quickly towards you. There is a wide grin on Jungkook’s face, and he waves a large package wrapped in brown paper towards the two of you. You sit up and watch curiously as Jungkook prances forward. Jimin, oddly, still has a lot of nervous energy and gives off an oddly frantic air and when his gaze lands on the package in Jungkook’s hand, it seemingly worsens.

“Jungkook!” Jimin cries, eyes bugging out of his head and his face almost going purple, so severe is his blush. “How did you get that?”

Jungkook skids to a stop between the two of you and beams cheekily.

“You had it delivered to the rink.” He says coyly, wiggling the package playfully in front of Jimin’s eyes. Jimin makes a hasty snatch at it and grabs it out of Jungkook’s hands. It’s a fairly bulky package. “But I knew you two were here, so I thought I’d use my lunch break to come visit the two of you and deliver the package.”

By now you are standing, and you move in close to examine the package.

“What is it?” You ask curiously, and then it’s shoved unceremoniously into your arms by a surprisingly flustered Jimin.

“It’s for you.” He says quickly, his head turned determinedly in the opposite direction of you. “I ordered it online- I thought you could wear it for the comp.”

You blink a few times, confused. But then you peel away the brown paper wrapping to reveal the contents within. It’s a figure skating dress. The skirt is a deep, midnight blue though the torso is something icier and paler. They mix together in a gentle gradient and jewels scattered over the bodice glint like starts as the catch the light above you. The sleeves and décolleté are nude- when you wear it, it will look like you are painted in the night sky. Your throat goes hot and sticky and you find yourself battling tears at the thoughtful gesture.

“Jimin,” You say softly, genuinely touched. He smiles and rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“It’s nothing… it was on sale and I thought it would look nice on you.” He admits sheepishly. “I was just going to leave it in your locker later today, but I guess someone had other plans.” Jimin shoots a meaningful but venom-filled look at his friend, but you are too preoccupied with examining your new outfit to notice. You clutch it tightly between your fingers.

“I have something for you too.” You announce suddenly. “Wait right here. It’s in my locker.” You urge, turning around and sprinting across the gym. A few people at the cycling machines pause their exercise to watch you go.

Jimin uses the opportunity to whirl on Jungkook.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Jimin snarls, and Jungkook laughs and dodges a swipe from Jimin. “I didn’t ask for a personal delivery!”

“Of course I did.” Jungkook cries mirthfully. “Did you think I’d pass up an opportunity to see you actually be nice while sober? Her reaction was so sweet, wasn’t it? Don’t you just wanna hug her and kiss her and stop being a douchebag 90% of the time? Oh man, I’ve never seen you go that shade of red before. Totally worth the drive over here.” Jungkook wipes at amused tears that are pooling in the corners of his eyes. “I mean, I also came over because there’s a sushi place next door that is to die for and (Y/N)’s father is treating me to lunch, but this has been a great little adventure. Thanks for the show, Jimin.” Jungkook says, waving his friend goodbye. Jimin aims another whack at the back of Jungkook’s head, but his reactions are quicker, and he merely darts off. He whistles a cheerful tune as he goes. Jimin is about to follow after him and give Jungkook a proper piece of his mind, but you arrive back beside him before he can do so. You’re slightly out of breath from your quick sprint, but you quickly straighten and beam.

“There’s a bit of back story behind this.” You explain, stretching out your hand and uncurling your fingers to reveal a long, thin box that fits easily into your hand. Curiously, Jimin accepts it and is about to remove the lid but you hastily place your hands over his to stop the movement. Your fingers are slightly cold, and his eyes catch on the contrast of your skin against his. “I bought this for you right after your second Olympics win.” You confess, and you drop your gaze from his. There’s embarrassment in your expression and it’s oddly endearing. Jimin feels an odd, fluttering feeling just beneath his sternum. But then your words register and he’s a bit confused.

“I didn’t know you then, though- that was 3 years ago.” He reminds you and you shake your head and smile.

“I’ve been your fan since I was 12 years old though!” You exclaim. “I bought it because I was going to mail it to you to show my support. And I never plucked up the courage to do it until my coach managed to get me a seat at one of the comps you were supposed perform at. I was going to throw it onto the ice after you performed. But you… you never got to perform.” You say softly, and Jimin feels himself tense just the slightest bit. He knows the competition you are talking about- it was one of the few ones in his hometown he still competed in. But then the accident had happened, and he’d cancelled his registration. “But I kept this all these years because I still wanted to meet you. Even if you couldn’t skate anymore, you were and are still my hero. And I found it again the other day and realised that I finally have the chance to give it to you.”

Slowly, you release your grip on his hands enough that he’s able to pull the lid off the small box. A thin silver chain rests in it and in the centre against black velvet lies a tiny pendant shaped like a cat. He blinks at it a few times in confusion.

“You always talked about your family cat growing up in interviews. The fat tortoiseshell one. You said she was your inspiration because of her calm approach to life.” You recall fondly. “And fans always through cat plushies onto the ice because of that and I guess I wanted to set myself apart a little.”

Jimin just stares incredulously at the little trinket. It should be offensive, to have such a reminder of how his life has gone wrong resting in his hands. And as a gift from you, no less. But it isn’t offensive, for some reason. It’s touching. It’s flattering. Slowly a smile grows on his face and his hands start to tremble. There’s a warm, full feeling in his chest. What an honour, to have someone like you be such a loyal fan. To have kept this reminder of his golden years despite the fact that you’d never even met him. And your skating is so beautiful and with enough time will outshine his own, but it’s thanks to him. He inspired that beauty in you, and to know that is an honour and joy and privilege that he will carry with him throughout the rest of his life. And this necklace symbolises all of that.

“Thank you.” He mutters softly. He raises his eyes off the pendant to look at you. Your eyes are slightly round and a little uneasy, but when he responds with gratitude a smile splits your face. “But I can’t accept this.” He tells you with a smile. With careful fingers, he plucks the necklace from its box and comfortable bed of velvet, and steps towards you. “This necklace is yours.” He says. You seem to sense what he’s trying to do as he steps in close, because you raise your hair off the back of your neck to allow him to put the necklace on for you. It clasps shut and falls to rest safely against your collarbone.

You stare up at Jimin and you don’t really understand the tenderness in his gaze, or the ensuing ache in your chest in response. You just feel… happy. Warm. Excited. There’s so many feelings racing through your chest and while you don’t have the time to process them now, you know that things will go well. Instead of pulling away after fixing the necklace in place, Jimin leans in close so that his lips almost brush your ear. You feel your face heat.

“Take it to the Olympics for me.” He whispers softly.

++

The day of the competition dawns bright and sunny. Jimin is gripped with a fluttery kind of nerves. It’s a thrilling sensation though, one he hasn’t felt since he’d been able to skate. So much of his time has been spent in darkness, spiralling deeper and deeper away from the sun and suddenly today he feels a warmth and brightness he hadn’t realised he’d been missing.

You nail the short program in the morning and are all smiles and jitters as you come off the ice. You’re leading with your point score and if you follow the routine for your free program well, then you’ll take the gold medal home for sure.

“Did I do well?” You ask breathlessly, the second you step off the ice. You stumble a bit, shaky from the adrenaline, and Jimin steadies you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“She’d have been so proud.” He reassures you warmly and the resulting beam you give him makes him think that nothing could drag him down.

There is something that could drag him down, though he doesn’t know it in that moment.

Typically, there is a break in the middle of the day, where skaters are allowed to have a warmup on the ice before the afternoon program starts. Jimin is a little hesitant to have you out on the ice, though he can’t really put into words. He writes it off as just nerves though, and sees you off onto the ice with a smile. He doesn’t really focus much on your warmup- you know what to do. Instead, he scans the seating section where he knows Jungkook is. It doesn’t take much time to locate him and Jimin quickly darts up into the audience section towards his friend. Jungkook is waving a little paddle pop stick with an unflattering image of you stuck to the end and watches the figure skaters warm up with his mouth slightly ajar.

“She’s really good, huh?” Jungkook admits aloud, as Jimin takes a seat next to him. Jimin grins and nods.

“She’s got this one in the bag.” Jimin brags, and Jungkook offers him a strange smile.

“She really did a number on you.” Jungkook says suddenly, with a laugh. “To think, just a couple of months ago you’d be angry and hungover at this time of day. And now you’re smiling and laughing. I really think that (Y/N) is the best thing to happen to you.”

Normally, Jimin would deny it. Maybe flush a little and frantically discourage Jungkook from such a sentiment. But for some reason, he can’t bring himself to do it- probably because he can’t deny the weight and truth of such a statement.

“She is.” Jimin admits softly. Jungkook’s jaw drops in response, but a ruckus on the ice distracts him from whatever response he may have given.

Puzzled, Jimin directs his gaze to where medics are suddenly rushing onto the ice. And then, like two magnets clicking together, his gaze lands on you. You’re sprawled out on the ice, unmoving, with one of your competitors similarly collapsed. She, at least, is sitting up, looking slightly dazed and confused, but you are unmoving. Jimin’s heart leaps into his throat as he realises what has happened- there’s been a collision.

He leaps to his feet, but Jungkook’s hand around his wrist stops Jimin for rushing straight for the ice. Two medics help you to your feet and lead you off the ice.

“Wait.” Jungkook calls. “She’s ok- she’s standing up. Don’t get in the way of the medics. We can go to her after they’ve done first aid.”

Jimin glares at Jungkook, long and hard. His friend merely stares evenly back until Jimin reluctantly lowers himself back into his seat. He watches desperately as you are able to groggily step off the ice. Even at this distance, he can see the way blood streams down your face. Once he sees the dreadful crimson staining the ice, he can sit still no longer, and he gets to his feet and dashes off before Jungkook can say a word in response.

In the kiss and cry area, a crowd has gathered around you- some are medics, some are camera crew and some are your fellow competitors. Jimin shoves them carelessly out of the way, forcing himself forward until he is face to face with you. Your eyes are slightly out of focus and they’re in the middle of bandaging your head, and when you look up at him, your eyes fill with tears.

“Jimin,” You cry, choked. They haven’t cleaned up the blood yet - it has dripped down your neck and stained the misty blue of the outfit he had bought you. Jimin crumples to his knees in front of you.

“Is she ok?” He demands of the medic trimming a bandage for you. The medic winces and evaluates you.

“We think it’s just a minor concussion. She’ll be fine with some rest- but maybe she should skip the free program. Maybe if you take her home-“ The medic suggests tentatively, but you cry out in response.

“No!” You almost shout. The crowd buzzing around you goes silent at your outburst, but you don’t seem to notice. “I have to skate. I have to compete.” You cry, begging the medic, begging Jimin, begging anyone who can let you go back on the ice.

“(Y/N)…” Jimin calls quietly. “It’s ok- there will be other competitions. Your health is more import-“

“There won’t be.” You argue vehemently. “I promised her, Jimin. I promised her.” Tears are really streaming down your face now, mixing with the rivulets of blood that pour from the cut on your chin. You’re wearing the cat necklace and the silver is marred with angry droplets of red. You gently push the medic away and struggle to stand upright. You wobble a little, but you keep upright. It’s only minor injuries, but Jimin highly doubts you’d be able to skate properly like this. And if you take another fall, things may only get worse. Skating now could cost you your career. Blind panic rises in his chest and makes him nauseous- it reminds him of a darker time just two years ago, when he had been informed that he would never skate again. You’re so small and fragile and it’s something that could just as easily happen to you, but before you’ve even gotten the chance to compete. He can taste sour fear in the back of his throat.

But when Jimin looks into your eyes, he comes to understand something. As much as he wants to take you to the Olympics- as much as you yourself probably want to go to the Olympics, this takes priority. He remembers how important his coach had been to him during his career, and how he would have reacted if anything happened to him. He can’t imagine what you must have gone through- what it must have taken, to get back on the ice, just six months after her death. You have to do this, and though his heart aches with fear and agony at the thought of you endangering yourself again, he knows that you will never forgive yourself if you don’t do this. You are skating for her and he doesn’t have a right to stop you.

“Finish the first aid.” Jimin requests of the medical personnel, before turning and dismissing the crowd. They quickly dissipate under his intimidating stare, but not without a few surprised mutters of isn’t that Park Jimin?. And then he turns to you. He’s only just met you in the last few months and you’d given him so much hope that now dangles precariously on a thread. But he doesn’t want hope or purpose or ambition if that’s not what you want. “Whatever happens out there, she’ll be proud.” He reassures you, and then you’re smiling with relief through your tears. You reach out and wrap your fingers around one of his hands.

“Thank you.” You say, and somehow the weight of your gratitude now means more to him than any Olympics medals you may win- heck, more than the medals he’s won. He finds himself smiling despite the dread that sits deep in his stomach.

“No wobbling out there is allowed.” Is all he tells you.

++

Amidst the silvery glow of the white ice, you stand as a lone figure. Jimin remembers when he first saw you skate, all those months ago. This reminds him of that time, although this time your head is bandaged, and your hands shake as the opening piano chords ring sombrely through the arena. There was a lot of murmuring when you first stepped onto the ice but it has all gone quiet as you wait patiently in the centre, raising your arms delicately above your head. Then the piano erupts fiercely, notes scattering and spilling across the ice in the same moment that you take off. There is power as you launch yourself across the ice.

The strings pad the rich sound and climb in intensity as your first jump approaches. Jimin holds his breath as he sees you brace one leg before you push outwards. You spin through the air and he couldn’t breathe even if he wanted to. But you land at the wrong angle and your leg skids out underneath you. You’ve missed your first jump.

You aren’t deterred though. Quickly you scramble back onto your feet and begin to skate across the ice as the piano melody grows more and more complex and urgent. This next jump is your hardest. But again, you miss- you’re dizzy and you miscalculate the angle you must land in. Still, without hesitation, you clamber back onto your feet even though Jimin can see the way frustrated tears are starting to pool in the corner of your eyes.

What comes next is a spin, as you extend your leg outwards, your speed varying and changing as you adjust your position- you hold your leg out in the pose he had been constantly trying to get you to replicate and you execute it perfectly. You raise your leg above your head as your spin becomes more rapid. The music becomes more delicate and thoughtful and so does your skating. You glide across the ice and yet there is a carefulness that isn’t normally there- he can see the way you must concentrate, the way you desperately fight off the waves of dizziness that you are experiencing.

The pitch climbs into something brighter and hopeful and you once more attempt a desperate jump. You land badly again and actually end up on all fours. For a second, he thinks you may not be able to get up and the music threatens to leave you behind. The whole crowd holds its breath collectively. Suddenly your eyes meet his. It’s quick- you just so happen to be facing towards the wall he’s standing behind. But your expression changes, and so does the music, just in time for you to send yourself soaring with your arms outstretched behind you like the wings of a swan.

Suddenly, Jimin remembers why your skating has him to encaptivated. With the brighter music, you suddenly erupt with a brightness and grace that is entirely unique to you- you dance and skip over the ice rapidly. It’s because no one else can skate like this. No one can translate beauty into movement on the ice like you can. You have another leap coming up and this time when you launch yourself up, it’s with a determination and confidence that you didn’t have before. You land perfectly and Jimin’s heart skips a beat. You’re instantly flying again, soaring towards your grand finale. The music slows to another climax, slow and grave but with the brightness from before carried in the dancing piano melody and your feet bounce with the notes- a triple toe loop, a double axel. Gradually your confidence grows, and the music builds again for one last final climax as you enter your last spin.

The music fades and you are left, in the centre of the rink, gasping for breath. There are tears pouring down Jimin’s face. Somehow, despite all the flaws and errors, it is the most beautiful and moving performance he has seen in his entire life.

It’s in the moment that Jimin realises something. He doesn’t just want to take you to the Olympics. He wants to see you all the way through. Every loss, every triumph, every high-point and low-point… He wants to be there beside you for it all. He’d been in darkness for so long and he’s suddenly found his light. It’s you.

You meet his gaze as the crowd roars with applause and people pelt bouquets onto the ice. And your eyes are red rimmed and teary, but you smile, and it is the most heart-stoppingly beautiful smile he has ever seen in his life. It’s only been a few short months, and yet…

And yet he loves you.

Your coach would have been so proud.

++

You don’t end up taking home the gold medal. Despite your admirable determination to skate in your injured state, there were too many technical slipups for the judges to overlook. Still, with your awesome score carrying over from the short program, and your impressive recovery in the second half of your free program, you land an impressive second place.

Jimin likes the colour on you better anyway- as you walk along side him, the silver medal around your neck bounces against your chest and catches the light and it matches perfectly with the delicate silver chain and silly cat pendant that dangles at your collarbone. But none of it shines brighter than your smile.

“You did really well.” He reassures you, as he follows you out of the rink, towards your car.

“I know.” You say smugly. Your tone is at odds with the banadages around your head and on your face and the medal that glints silver instead of gold.

“She would have been proud.” He informs you, and your answering smile is even more smug.

“I know.” You answer cheerfully, and it brings a smile to his face.

“I’m proud.” He tells you, and you shrug nonchalantly as the two of you arrive just outside his car.

“I know.” Still, you are smug and Jimin is gripped with the sudden and cheeky urge to see what you don’t know.

“I love you.” He tries, one final time, and the smile slides off your face and is replaced with something shocked. Jimin grins as he gets into the car, and it takes you a moment to recover from your shock and slide into the passenger seat.

“I… didn’t know that.” You finally say, and Jimin laughs. He shrugs. You open your mouth and close it a few times before you attempt at last to respond sincerely. “I… I like…. no, I love y-“

“Save it for the Olympics.” He cuts you off, and your eyes go wide in a comical way that makes him laugh. “You can say it when you get the gold medal.”

Your eyes harden with the challenge and you petulantly fold your arms across your chest in answer.

“Just wait and see, then.” Is your answer, your pride provoked, and honestly Jimin wouldn’t have it any other way. Perhaps he should feel uneasy, or desperately need to hear that you reciprocate his feelings. It’s a risky gamble, to not just wait for your response for something that might not even happen, but to delay it. But see, that’s the thing. He knows it’s going to happen. He has all the time in the world, now, and he can absolutely afford to wait for the Olympics.

Because you’re going to take home his third gold medal for him.

[superman86to99]

Adventures of Superman #505 (October 1993)

REIGN OF THE SUPERMAN! The Reign is over, and Superman does what we’d all do after being dead for several weeks and coming back to life: no, not visiting your parents, making out with Lois Lane.

Or more than making out, since the next page starts with a caption that says “Later...” and lets us know that they both had to take a shower. (NOTE: Check Don Sparrow’s section below for artist Tom Grummett’s definitive take on what happened in that scene.)

Their post-resurrection bliss comes to a stop when they remember a little detail: Clark Kent is still presumed dead. How are they gonna explain his return without making the extremely smart residents of Metropolis suspect that Superman and the guy who looks like Superman but with glasses are actually the same person? Superman’s mind immediately goes into “wacky bullshit excuse” mode and he starts spitballing ideas, like claiming Clark lost his memory, or was carried by underwater currents, or was abducted by aliens. Honestly, I’m pretty sure that last one would work, since there have been THREE major alien invasions in the past few years, but Lois thinks no one would be dumb enough to fall for that sort of thing. Really, Lois? No one?

At this point, Superman picks up some supervillain activity with his super hearing, so he gets dressed and goes there (though it would have been pretty intimidating for the criminals if she’d shown up in that shower rug). A bank uptown has been taken over by Loophole, a S.T.A.R. Labs accountant who stole a gizmo that allows him to phase through walls. When Superman shows up to arrest him and his henchmen (are they all villainous accountants?), Loophole literally puts his first through Superman’s chest, instantly killing him. RIP Superman, again.

Nah, Supes just swats Loophole away and breaks the gizmo, causing him to get his crotch area stuck inside a vault door. Now he has to change his supervillain name to “DickVault”.

(I freaking love Maggie Sawyer, btw.)

After that, Superman goes to one of the areas trashed by his fight with Doomsday and helps clean up the junk that’s still laying around there. It’s then that he finally reunites with his best friend and most valued ally: Bibbo Bibbowski. (Jimmy Olsen’s there, too, unfortunately.)

Bibbo also introduces Superman to the dog he named in honor of his home planet, Krypto -- and it’s Krypto who provides the most significant moment in this issue. The little mutt starts barking at some debris from a destroyed building, leading Superman to examine it with his X-Ray vision and find some kids underneath.

Turns out the kids had been trapped there since the Doomsday fight, leading some random passerby (fine, Jimmy) to wonder if Clark could be stuck in a similar situation. Superman and Lois look at each other... giving Superman an idea and providing the premise for next week’s issue.

Character-Watch:

First appearance of Loophole (real name Deke Dickinson, C.P.A.), who would become a running joke in Karl Kesel’s Superman and Superboy comics. While his phasing powers are tech based, he also has the metahuman ability to somehow convince attractive women to be his girlfriends/henchwomen despite being a balding little dweeb. In this issue he’s dating a blonde named Sheila (who wears a mask, so maybe she’s actually hideous), but I’m pretty sure he had other girlfriends in future issues.

Plotline-Watch:

As I said... holy shit, five years ago: no one draws Supes coming back to Lois after an extended absence like Tom Grummett. This scene is almost a remake of the one from that issue when Superman comes back from his time traveling jaunt. There’s also a callback to Man of Steel #25, when Lois hears a tap on her window and thinks it’s Superman, but it’s just some dumb bird. This time she gets it the other way around:

Don Sparrow says: “There’s a cute visual callback to the last time Superman returned after a long absence on page 18, when Superman is reunited with Jimmy. It’s a near identical pose to Action #643, where Superman returned from exile in space (and in that moment, infected Jimmy with Eradicator-based space sickness, womp womp).” I think he’s instinctively throwing Jimmy up in the air, hoping the cold of space will kill him. Unfortunately, both murder attempts were unsuccessful.

As seen above, Maggie Sawyer wasn’t too convinced that “Fabio” here was Superman at first. That changes when he calls her “Captain” even though she was recently promoted to Inspector, and she’s like “only a dead man wouldn’t know all the precise ranks for the local authorities!”

The surviving non-Supermen are seen arriving at S.T.A.R. Labs for medical care after the Engine City showdown. Don again: “There are some mild continuity issues stemming from Superman #82, which perhaps wasn’t completely finished being drawn while Tom Grummett worked on this one, as Steel’s costume is almost entirely intact, when we last saw it a week ago, it was in tatters. Ditto the Eradicator, who was a wizened husk, and now is apparently a scorched Ivan Drago.” Let’s assume Supergirl worked her clothes-shifting magic on Steel’s armor and the Eradicator’s, uh, hair.

There’s a short scene where Superboy is visited by his reporter pal Tana Moon, who tells him she quit WGBS and is leaving Metropolis. Awww. Goodbye, Tana. Or should I say... aloha?

Meanwhile, Lex Luthor Jr. has a scene with Dr. Happersen where he says he intends to control or destroy anyone who wears the “S” symbol. Basically, if he can’t date them, they should be dead. He also instructs Happersen to help Cadmus’ Director Westfield get in contact with disgraced genetician Dabney Donovan. Get ready for a whole lot of clone-related shenanigans in the near future.

And now, more Don Sparrow-related shenanigans after the jump!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

This issue is another favourite of mine, but I suppose all these issues around the Death and Return are faves when I really think about it.  My copy of this issue had the holographic fireworks cover, and it’s a good one.  I like that Superman and the Daily Planet are in natural colour, rather than holograms.  The cover credit goes Karl Kesel, Tom Grummett and Doug Hazlewood, so I’m not sure what the breakdown was (or if that’s just a handwritten cover credit, just in case?

The story opens with one of my favourite sequences ever, with Lois waking up on her couch, having fallen asleep following the events in Coast City.  I love the detail as she opens the curtain, we see her engagement ring, indicating she knows her real fiancée has returned.  This sequence is followed up by two pages of splashes of the passionate reunion of the best couple in comics.  All beautifully rendered as they float, locked in a passionate, sunrise kiss.  Just lovely (so lovely that I am willing to overlook a small colouring error, as Lois has black hair instead of reddish brown for one panel).  [Max: I can confirm that they fixed that in the collections.]

What follows is a very cute scene, and one of some debate among Superman fans.  There’s no overt evidence of what happened, all we get is a cryptic caption reading “later…”.   Again, I give credit for the subtlety of the writers, as they depict this scene in a way that can be read either way:  maybe Clark and Lois made love, and the “later” we are seeing is afterglow, or maybe Lois had a shower since she just woke up after sleeping in her clothes. Then, after calling his parents while Lois showered, Clark had a shower himself.  I feel like today’s writers wouldn’t feel the need to be so subtle, and might lose the sweetness of this scene.  

In previous posts, I’ve talked about my friendship with artist Tom Grummett, and how as a boy, I would wear him out with all my dumb fanboy questions.  Once I got older, and our relationship became a little more collegial (just a little closer to collegial, since I in no way consider myself anywhere near his level of skill or success) I would really try not to geek out too much when we would visit.  But the one question I had to ask was about this scene, and what their intention, or interpretation of it was, as I was always curious.  Once I had explained to him which issue it was (the guy has drawn hundreds, so they might not all spring to mind immediately!) he admitted that his assumption was indeed that they had sex.  So there you have it!  [Max: Hot damn! Another Superman ‘86 to ‘99 exclusive, folks!]

However you wish to read this scene, the choreography, and facial expressions as they horse around is really sweet and fun, and such a nice, light tone compared to the do-or-die pace the books had been for the last two years or so.   Their easy joking, and back and forth banter really do a great job of showing them as a real couple.

It’s a very nice pose on Supergirl as she lifts off, simultaneously spurning Superboy’s romantic complaints.

I quite like the design on Loophole, and his gang.  Loophole himself kinda harkens back to the silver age villains of the Flash as Loophole has a unique hairline, is an older man, with a pretty average build, which was rare for villains in the 90s. His gimmick is pretty cool, too, though we immediately see its vulnerability.

The tearful reunion of the now-sober Bibbo and Superman is also a great moment—if anyone rose to the challenge of living up to Superman’s example in his absence, it was Bibbo.  I discuss the scene in more detail in the observations later, but the image of Superman whipping away the debris on page 20 is a great visual, with the dust clouds creating great motion and urgency.

On the whole, a great first issue for the return to the never-ending battle, even if it brings us closer to Grummett’s last issue on this title (for a while).

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

Could Superman referring to the Death and Return storyline as a dream, while stepping out of the shower be a reference to Dallas, and their famous about-face after an unpopular season, where Bobby Ewing emerged from the shower, alive and well, dismissing a yearlong storyline as a dream?

A coy semi-reference to perhaps my favourite line in the first Reeve Superman film on page 8, where Supergirl says “Easy steel, we’ve got you, then later adding, “ok, you got me”.  

A little more issue-to-issue dissonance with Superboy reversing himself from the end of Superman #82, where he said clearly that Kal-El was Superman, with Superboy pointing out that legally, he’s Superman and not Kal. [Max: I think he’s talking strictly in the legal sense, since he helps Superman deal with the legal problem on the next issue and all.]

For all the times that Superman has used his heat vision on guns (as he does on page 11), we’ve never seen rounds get burned off, firing on their own because of the heat.  There might be an idea there.    

An odd sorta-cameo by Erik Larsen’s Savage Dragon, who Superman apparently defeats in the waterfront district. An eagle-eyed reader asked Larsen about it in issue #6 of Dragon’s own book, and he nixed any proper crossover rumours, saying it was just a shout-out from Larsen’s buddy Karl Kesel.  Eventually they’d meet in Superman/Savage Dragon: Chicago, a so-so crossover in 2002.

A slightly bawdy joke from one of the Loophole gang, on page 14, as the moll of Deke Dickson calls Loophole a “weiner”.  

GODWATCH: A stirring moment when Superman detects the faintest of life-signs, thanks to would-be super-pup, Krypto, and responds “God willing” when someone asks if anyone is alive in that wreckage.  The love and concern in Superman’s eyes when he says he’d “rather die” himself than let little ones perish is a tear-jerker moment for sure.  Bonus points for the cuteness of Superman heaping praise on Krypto, with the line “if that dog could fly, I’d put a cape on him…”

Question:  Does Jimmy know? He comes up with the solution to the Clark problem very conveniently.  Maybe he’s smarter than we (and by we, I mean Max) give him credit for? [Max: It was all Krypto! Okay, I’ll concede that maybe Jimmy is as smart as a dog.]

[alaypsy23]

Wanna Dance?

Summary: You reluctantly join your friend out at a club, discover your boyfriend has been cheating on you. When you confront him, someone comes to your aid...

Pairing: Jaeboum x Reader

Words: 2k+

Genre: Angst, a little bit of fluff at the end

Warnings: cheating, drinking,

A/N: this is my first time posting anything like this. I wasn’t even sure of how it was going to turn out when I first started writing. I have an idea of where this is going, but not really sure if it is worth pursuing. We’ll see. Hopefully, it flows okay. And hopefully you all like it.

oh and the gif obviously does not belong to me. i got it from the gif generator... thing... credit to the owner.

“I don’t usually DO clubs….” you mumble to your quirky best friend.

After getting off work, you check your phone to see several missed calls, all from Sarah. She insisted on coming by your apartment and started demanding you go out with her tonight.

“Oh, come ooooooonnnnn!” She whines as she goes through your closet throwing clothes on the bed for you to change into. Looking at how excited and, um, demanding, she was being, you think what could be the harm?

Rolling your eyes, “Fine. Just let me message Shawn to let him know where I’ll be.” You turn to pick up your phone off the dresser, but Sarah lunges to get to the phone first. “NO! I mean… lets let tonight just be a girls’ night out. Its been forever since we have done anything.”

“Okay. Sure. You’re right. This will be fun.” You initially wonder what her response was about, but decide to credit her quirkiness. You and Sarah have a lot of fun dressing and getting made up. Then you both head out.

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

Jaeboum drags his feet behind the guys. He isn’t sure how they convinced him to come out tonight. Jackson with his “Come on, hyung! It’s good to get out sometimes.” And BamBam with his “It will be fun!” and even Jinyoung with his “It might be nice time to bond as a group. It’s been awhile since we have done anything together that wasn’t work.”

The seven guys gather at the bar. Jaeboum laughs to himself as BamBam and Jackson immediately start flirting with the bartender. He can tell she is humoring them. 

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

Walking into the club, you start to question whether you should have heeded your own instincts. It is exactly what you feared… Lots of over-cologned bodies all brushing up against one another, some a bit too close for comfort, many reeking of too much alcohol. At least the music wasn’t too bad – what you could hear of it anyway. You would much rather be at home, finishing off the last few chapters of any of the 5 or 6 different books you were in the process of reading.

Sensing your mood, Sarah pulls you to the bar. “You promised! At least an hour. Give it a chance. Look around. You might find something interesting.” With a resigned sigh, you motion for the bartender in order to place your order. She nods to say she will be right over and then returns her attention to the group of guys next to you she was waiting on.

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

Jaeboum notices the bartender turn to acknowledge the newcomers at the bar, a couple of girls about his age had just walked up to the bar. One of the girls looks about as excited to be there as he is. Something about her catches his attention. She wasn’t the most gorgeous like the girls he was used to being around, but beautiful all the same. More subtle beauty, more intoxicating beauty.

He realizes he is staring so he quickly looks away, but he can’t keep his gaze from you for long. Up until now, he has been standing in front of the guys as they have claimed a few of the barstools. In a moment, he decides to take the barstool next to you in hopes of --- of what? He immediately thinks himself crazy. What is he hoping? That you will turn to see him and immediately fall in love with him? That he doesn’t have to actually speak to you? He shakes his head at himself. As he caught your attention and motions to the seat between you and Mark, his voice catches in his throat. You just looked at the stool and motion for him to take it and then turn to scan the room.

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

You look around the room. Your eyes fall on a couple sitting a couple tables over. You notice how the girl laughs flirtatiously as the guy leans over to whisper in her ear. Then, you notice how the guy looks awfully familiar… “—Is that ---?” you look at Sarah who is watching you with obvious pity in her eyes.

“That’s why I wanted you to come out tonight. I had heard he was going to be here with her. I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you. I’m so sorry, y/n!”

You look back toward the couple just in time to see your boyfriend stick his tongue down some chic’s throat and can feel the anger radiating off of you. You were normally one to avoid any conflict and hold in any anger because, in all honesty, it scares you. In this moment, you want to let it all out.

“What can I get you?” the bartender had just walked up.

You turn to her and see your saving grace. “I’ll take a shot of your strongest stuff. Actually, make that two!” You throw the shots back as she hands them to you and then stand to turn. Sarah grabs your arm, “What are you doing?”

You brush her arm off and start walking.

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

Jaeboum notices your change in demeaner immediately ��� after all, he has been watching you this whole time. Only, now you have caught the other guys attention, too, so at least he can get away with watching you. Your friend has turned to the bartender to explain what was going on, which he and the rest of the guys unabashedly listen in on. So now the bartender watches you as well in case she needs to intervene.

All this is outside of your awareness as your attention is solely on the couple you are quickly approaching. You walk up to the table with a smile and address the girl.

“Oh my Gosh! That dress is absolutely stunning! You have to tell me where you shop!” you exclaim, feigning interest in her. You notice the look of horror on Shawn’s face and can’t help but smile and wave. “Hey Shawn. How’s it going? I’ll get to you in a minute.” He starts to stand, but you quickly give him a look that warns him not to move. Up until this moment, his date was pleased with the compliments, but then turns to confusion. Clearly, she doesn’t know who you were, or why her date suddenly looks horrified.

“I just adore your style. I have to know where you got your outfit. You know, since we seem to have so much in common. I mean, we have the same hair color. We look to be about the same height. We have the same boyfriend… well, at least until 2 seconds ago…” You look over at your now ex-boyfriend, look down at your wrist where the bracelet he gave you for your birthday dangles, rip it off and throw it at him. You look over at his date, who is now looking at Shawn with disgust, and smile, “On second thought, I think I’ll find it on my own. Have a good night, and good luck with that!” You start to walk back to the bar where you notice Sarah is watching proudly.

You notice her expression quickly change as you almost get back to your seat. Then, you feel a hand on your arm roughly turn you around. Shawn is right in your face. Quicker than your alcohol-fogged brain can register, three guys immediately flank you. You look to your left, a guy with short dark hair and an intense look in his eyes, and to his left, another guy with dark hair with a hand on the other’s arm in restraint but still with a look of disdain toward Shawn. You then look to your right, a guy with hair just as dark but a bit longer stares daggers at Shawn. The part of you that is still sober registers this could easily develop into exactly the kind of drama you always avoided.

You look at Shawn, who is desperately trying to keep his gaze on you and pretend the other guys are not there. You then look down at your arm, then back to Shawn. He quickly releases your arm. You look behind him to notice his date was nowhere to be found. “Seriously?! I was your best bet at redemption tonight?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry… Its not what you think.”

“Oh, was she choking? And by that, I mean, on something other than your tongue.” You hear a couple of unfamiliar snickers behind you.

As a look of realization comes over him, and its clear you saw more than he thought, he quickly changes tactic. “Oh come on, y/n… You can’t lay this all on me. You are always working. I needed to blow off some steam. I need someone who makes times for me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault you couldn’t keep it in your pants?!”

“You know we are meant to be. Let’s talk this out y/n. I can make this up. If you break up with me, you won’t be able to find anyone else. I’m the best you will ever have the chance with.”

You laugh a little. “You know, I never thought I would like coming to clubs like this which is why I’m guessing you thought it was safe to bring her here. But you know what? I’m actually having fun. I think I want to dance.”

Shawn looks at you with hope that he had persuaded you. You laugh and pat him on the head. “Oh not with you.” You look around to the guys who were still at your side and standing like bodyguards. You turn to the one on your right, the one with the longer hair. “Want to dance?”

Jaeboum has watched the entire scene, from you walking up to the couple, the conversation, and you walking away with a look of relief and almost disbelief in yourself of what you had just done. Then, he saw the guy’s date walk away and the guy start coming toward you. As soon as he saw his hand reach for you, he feels himself move. Apart of him is screaming at him that it would not be good for the group to beat this guy to a pulp. Another part of him is glad Jackson and Jinyoung seem on the same page. He uses your voice, every comment you make, every subtle change in your tone that indicates your nerves and anger are at odds, but your anger seems to win out. Apart of him wants to laugh when Youngjae, Bambam, and Yugeom snicker at your little jab.  But when he heard you ask him to dance, he is shocked out of his defenses and immediately turns to you.

Jaeboum motions for you to lead the way. “Ladies first.”

You smile at him. “Ah, a gentleman!”

As you start to walk between Shawn and the guy who jumped to your rescue toward the dance floor, you look to Shawn. “Looks like I already traded up. Shawn, I think you better learn your place before someone puts you in it.”

Taken aback, he looks at you with disbelief. “And where is my place?”

“Far, far away from me.” You take your hero’s arm and head to the dance floor.

As he takes you in his arms on the dance floor, you can feel yourself starting to break down. Jaeboum notices you on the verge of tears. “Hold on just a bit longer. Don’t let him see.” You look up into his eyes and see an understanding. He gives you a small smile of encouragement.

You smile back, but then everything that has happened comes rushing back. Your hand comes flying up to cover your face. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For dragging you into this. For ruining your night.” You look down in humiliation.

He ducks his head to catch your eye. “Hey. I could have said no. And besides, my night has gone much better than I thought it would. I got to hang out with my brothers. I got a pretty entertaining show,” you look up with a small laugh, as he hesitates and then continues quietly, “And now I get to dance with a beautiful girl.”

You blush and smile a thank you.

“Ah, I knew you would have a beautiful smile. I’m Jaeboum, by the way.”

“Y/N. A pleasure to meet you.”  

[thenextchapterbegins]

A trip down nostalgia

so back in the day there was like things out there for rping aka rule pages..i remeber along time ago i read an orginal character rulebook and it said “you cant have powerful ocs” which ive broken that rule a few times. So i decided to find one of these old “universal rping rules” pages and go through em and see how theyve changed

GENERAL RULES 1: When you are talking out of RP text, use "(( ))" to indicate such 

i particually like this one because it shows how dated it is..like most rping sites have instant message systems 

2: When you are talking with only one character in the same area, you should not skip any lines; if you are talking with more than on character area, then you must separate them by skipping a line after the action and text of the first character, then starting the same thing for the next character [Note: this only applies if both characters are interacting with the same character(s); if they are in the same topic, but different areas of the topic, they must be posted in different comments.] 

i dont actually know what this rule is implying is it implying you cant skip topics and have to stay on track or simply if another person joins that person cant interject? 

3: Any speech MUST be indicated with quotation marks and actions should be indicated by "* *", but that is optional 

This is a fun rule too because of nowndays there are two styles of rping

script and para. i don't know if this rule is insitating there was a time were para/script was the same thing or used in the same way. GLOBAL RULES 1: You cannot skip between different RP storylines i can only assume this was a rule before multithreading was a thing but weve broken this rule.

2: You cannot skip between different time frames also this one weve broken 3: You cannot declare your character(s) to know someone without permission from the other person(s) this is a rule thats still followed albeit with the expectation that your muse is omniscience or all knowning or whatever  4: You cannot declare your character(s) to share history or a background with another character(s) without permission from the other person(s) man there was a day and age were we didnt write giant paragraphs of agnst? and just did “and then they shared their past” ENTRY RULES 1: You cannot make another person(s) notice something; you have to let them notice it themselves i dont think anyone follows this rule. 2: You cannot appear in-between or near other characters unless approved by the other person(s) and allowed to do so (usually for battles or something) i think with this one i can only assume battles were more careful..i think nowndays if you fight a more powerful character that can appear next to yours and your character cant it sorta just happens.  3: You cannot be dramatic, it MUST be a subtle entry (ie: no big flashes into the area, bothering other characters; no screaming; no making other objects fly around when you entry, bothering other characters, etc.) [Note: exceptions are allowed if approved by the other person(s) if you are in a battle or something, but it must still be kept in moderation.] HAHAHAHAHHA 4: You cannot move or come into contact with another character(s) when you enter AHAHAHAHAH -louder laughing-  SOCIAL RULES 1: You cannot control the conversation or be the center of attention i suppose this is true for like group rping but one on one i dont see how this could really happen. 2: You cannot interrupt someone else's conversations (unless permitted by the other person(s)) again in group rping i can see this happening but not for like one on one. 3: You cannot make person say something, nor may you tell them to say something outside of RP chat (your character may tell them to say something in RP chat, but they are allowed to refuse)   this one is... idk ive had times were someone comes into my ims and there like “i need help with ideas so i can reply” or “i dont quite know what to say next” and you discuss and plot this rule seems overly strict and just strange.

4: You cannot relate to someone else's background or history without the consent of the other person(s)  fucking what?

BATTLE RULES 1: No godmodding (ie: being invincible, overpowered, etc.) i think over the ages godmodding went from “everything bad” to more speciifcally  godmodding=controlling my character without permission marysue=everything bad 2: No controlling other people read above 3: You CANNOT kill another person(s)'s character without their permission  yeh this is pretty universal still 4: You MUST allow the other person to CHOOSE to accept or avoid an attack [Note: there are some exceptions to this rule once you are familiar with the rules and the feel of RP battles, but you must still keep it in moderation; it cannot be a big attack (ie: cutting someone's head off, stabbing their heart or lungs, etc.) and you must allow the other person(s) to do the same.] this is pretty universal as well expect with the two expections of 1. you planned the battle in im beforehand 2. your muse is significantly weaker then the one your facing.  like if your a god and im a human im probably going to get rekted 5: You CANNOT say where a character(s) got hit, nor how they took damage, they became crippled, they lost a limb, etc.) [Note: again, there are exceptions to this rule, as well; following the same exceptions as rules #4 and #6 again 1. above sorta explains this but this is mostly true 6: You may ONLY make ONE attack at a time, still following rule #4 [Note: again, there are exceptions to this rule once you are familiar with the rules and the feel of RP battles, but you must still keep it in moderation; you cannot go into a frenzy (attacks that count over 5 in this case) and you must allow the other person(s) to do the same.] i think overall rping battles has become easier to write with maybe before rping battles was a new thing and harder to do? 7: You may not make any moves without giving the other person(s) a chance to do something (this includes running away, teleporting (not blinking), summoning things, banishing the person(s) (and it must be approved by the person(s), etc.) again power differences are a major play in things like this. a master can beat a novice without taking damage, a master swordsman could beat bandits with no issue, etc etc etc 8: You MUST take damage at some point yes and no again as i said above however i always make it point that if your character is creative and can whatever skill they have to their advantage its always possible that your muse can do damage to mine and i can do damage to yours however as above its incredibly situational

thank you for listening to a random ass post.

i can only assume from loooking at this people in the past were careful and nowndays rping is

smashing into someones ims going “yo bitch lets fucking rping AHHH”

[davidmann95]

this week's comics?

Aside from The Unexpected and The Immortal Hulk, which I just addressed:

* Green Lanterns was better than I would have expected from Aaron Gillespie given what a disappointment New Challengers was, but it buirns like hell that this apparently isn’t him performing an after-the-fact wrap up of Seely’s run, even though his name is the one on the cover. Ronan Cliqet, however, is a name I hadn’t heard before, and one to keep an eye on; really clean, lovely art here.

* Doctor Strange, grabbed for my dad, was one of Waid’s better books in awhile, and Jesus Saiz took a major step up here. Ant-Man and The Wasp (also for dad) and Captain America were more indicative of his typical current faire, albeit on the higher end.

* Seeley continues to bring it with this week’s Batman Prelude To The Wedding one-shot, this time with added quality Superman content. Definitely tune in for this pseudo-mini if you haven’t already.

* Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles and Shade the Changing Woman continue to do their idiosyncratic, strangely satisfying things, the latter through its final curtain.

* Dazzler is the best X-book in the last several years, right? I liked All-New Wolverine, but this was really clever and fun and did interesting stuff with the central metaphor I dug.

* Batman finally, finally has King doing a ‘traditional’ Batman vs. Joker story, and it’s as good as I wanted it to be.

* Justice League was incredibly fun and I felt odd that I only found it tremendously enjoyable instead of an absolute barn-burner, until I realized it was because this felt much more like a #0 issue than the actual start of the run. Though that of course brings up the delightful question of what the threats are going to look like if this was the easygoing prelude. Hopefully ones better suited to Cheung’s talents - he brings it as hard here as he ever has (though Tomeu Morey’s colors don’t bring the characteristic sheen I tend to associate with Cheung - a little more toned down than I’d prefer), but it’s too cramped to suit his style. Looking forward to more of this as much as any book on the market, but frankly I wish some of this had been offloaded to DC Nation #0 rather than using that for an ultimately unnecessary No Justice interlude. I’ll probably post more spoilery thoughts when some time has passed.

* Man of Steel: Still that good Superman shit. More recognizably Bendisey, but mostly in positive ways (though the apparent pace of the Fabok sections is quickly growing aggravating), with more subtle signs of actual dimensionality for Rogol Zaar and a little character moment for Superman so perfect in his first thought captions during Rude’s section - and one 90% of those to work on him in the last decade never would have thought of - that it single-handedly pushed me from “this is such a great start, I hope Bendis doesn’t fizzle out, I don’t think he will but it’s still a definite possibility” to “regardless of bumps along the way, this is going to be A Good Superman Run, Period.” And Shaner and Rude! Prettiest Super-book in years; glad as hell to see Shaner placed in the company of the rest of this crew, with hopefully the same sort of blank-check creative credit to do largely as he pleases attached to his name going forward, and while the preview initially left me skeptical about his pencils paired with Alex Sinclair’s colors the end result is a perfect match. Rude meanwhile straight up puts Clark in a pinstripe suit and gives Perry a psychedelic Steve Rude vest, because that’s how Steve Rude goes about his business. Plus that outright Silver Age rescue!

[aion-rsa]

Superman & Lois Episode 2 Review: Heritage

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This Superman & Lois review contains spoilers.

Superman and Lois Episode 2

There was a time, long ago, when big genre TV shows would get two hour premieres. Not the kind of two hour premiere that Superman & Lois had, where an episode that was actually a full hour without commercials got stretched out over a longer time slot with additional commercial breaks and a behind-the-scenes special. I mean a genuine 90 minute pilot that sat in a two hour timeslot. Those days are long gone, but I’ve long suspected that The CW structures the first two episodes of its biggest new series accordingly. And just as Superman & Lois feels like the most ambitious addition to the network’s DC TV lineup since The Flash, so too does its second episode feel like an extension of its first.

That’s a very good thing, by the way.

If anything, Superman & Lois episode 2 is an even easier watch than the impressive first episode. At this point, you’ve either bought into the concept of the show as a family drama, and the idea of Lois and Clark as parents, or you haven’t. We’ve met all the key players already, so there’s a little less exposition necessary (although, to be fair, it isn’t like the first episode committed the sin that so many CW pilots do, where it can sometimes feel like characters are taking turns introducing themselves to the camera), and the story itself can breathe.

What that means, for one thing, is more action. I can’t tell for sure, but it certainly feels like we spend a little more time with Superman in costume than we did in the first episode. And if you liked the cinematic look and feel of those sequences before, you’re in luck, because there’s no sign whatsoever that they blew their effects budget on that episode. This show just looks great.

That shouldn’t be a surprise though, right? It’s Superman. There’s a general sense that the network and the producers knew that either you go big or go home with the Man of Steel, hence the show’s widescreen look and amped-up special effects and redesigned costume. Superman & Lois episode 2 isn’t wall-to-wall action, but when we get it, it counts and it looks terrific, and that’s what matters.

That title, “Heritage” refers very much to Jonathan and Jordan Kent, particularly the latter. The parental decision is made to keep him home from school after his “ocular release of energy” at the Shuster Mines, specifically so that Clark can take him to the Fortress of Solitude for evaluation by the Kryptonian technology stored there (and the holographic form of Jor-El) and to gauge his power levels. Jonathan, on the other hand, has to go to a school where he doesn’t feel terribly welcome, especially when steps were taken to make sure that the football team’s playbook never arrived for him to study, thereby making his life a little harder on the field where he usually excels.

But “Heritage” could also refer to how much Smallville has changed since Clark left it. While Lana’s husband Kyle Cushing isn’t the most likeable character on the show, he effectively speaks for the people of Smallville who feel they’ve been left behind, and who are in desperate need of a job creator like new Daily Planet owner (and apparent vulture capitalist) Morgan Edge. So far, Clark dealing with the Jordan issue means that he hasn’t yet come to terms with how Smallville has moved on (or fallen) since he’s been gone, and it’s Lois who finds herself in the line of fire with the locals. Something tells me that eventually this is going to change, whether in a confrontation with Kyle or whether it’s Lois who forces him to reckon with what’s happening.

We also learn more about the mysterious “Captain Luthor,” who may not be the villain he was presented as last week. For starters, he uses non-lethal force on the soldiers who confront him, and despite the dangerous situations he’s created in the past, they were clearly designed to draw Superman out rather than cause maximum loss of life. But more importantly, it seems he comes from a world where Kal-El was either inherently evil or let his power corrupt him, and he had his own relationship with General Sam Lane on his world. Some harrowing footage that closes the episode indicates that Captain Luthor’s grudge against the Man of Steel is justified.

In case you can’t tell, “Heritage” is juggling quite a lot. But it manages to not get in its own way, while dealing with its heavier dramatic moments unpretentiously and its weightier subjects with relative ease. I often cringe at the Supergirl model of journalism, or what has passed for it with the Central City Citizen on The Flash. Taking both Lois and Clark out of The Daily Planet may help in that regard here, and so far they seem to be easing Lois into doing some investigative journalism here. There’s still the question of whether Lois actually has enough to do at the moment, but since this episode feels very much like an extension of the pilot, I’m willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt right now.

Speaking of Lois getting into trouble, we do get our first look at the new Morgan Edge this week. Adam Rayner is Edge this time around, taking over from the Earth-38 version who was played by Adrian Pasdar over on Supergirl. As with Sam Lane, we can chalk this bit of recasting up to the changes made to reality by Crisis on Infinite Earths. Rayner’s Edge is a little more subdued, a bit more cynical, and more of the elegant boardroom shark that was first introduced in the comics. He’s certainly not the nicest guy on the show, but time will tell if he’s actually the season’s big bad or if they’re going to eventually give him some nuance, as well.

This core cast is really what powers everything through. Elizabeth Tulloch and Tyler Hoechlin are, of course, perfect in their roles, and there’s probably not much reason for me to hit that point every week. But seeing them as parents is a new wrinkle for the characters overall, and the pair hit this pretty effortlessly. In particular, Hoechlin’s resigned “you heard your mother” after Tulloch’s Lois puts the boys in their place during a blowup is both perfectly delivered and wryly funny. Even Superman knows who’s really in charge in their house. That entire scene could have gone south in less gifted hands, but the four actors who make up this Kent family make it work.

The warmth between Jordan Elsass and Alexander Garfin as Jonathan and Jordan Kent that feels even more pronounced in this episode than the previous one. Particularly when they’re getting along, they’re fun and believable as brothers, and they (along with Inde Navaratte as Sarah Cushing) are refreshingly free of the overwritten teen dialogue that has become de rigueur over the last couple of decades. It also helps that the entire young cast are actually believable as high school freshmen…it’s pretty hilarious to think Jordan, Jonathan, and Sarah are supposed to be the same age that Clark, Lana, and Pete were in the first season of Smallville, for example. If you missed it, watch for Jonathan and Jordan’s simultaneous reaction when their mom goes after Morgan Edge at the Town Hall. Superman & Lois isn’t as likely to lean on humor as The Flash, but it could use more subtle moments like this one.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

It feels like the pieces are all in place now, and that there are even bigger and better things ahead.

The post Superman & Lois Episode 2 Review: Heritage appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[sinnhelmingrmoved]

domestic ship meme for victor lesgooooo

domestic ll accepting.

I like to imagine Hel has totally done that MCU thing where Doom asks for a kiss and she smooches the mask he is not wearing them tosses it at him.

Who’s more dominant: I feel Victor is a touch more type-A than Hel, so of the two, this goes to Victor. Hel is far less assertive than he is, preferring more gentle persuasion when left to her own devices. In the bedroom…. Let me restate from past memes, sexual and otherwise, Hel is a sub. Victor takes this one by default in terms of sexual dominance.

Who’s the cuddler: Hel would have to be pried from Victor with a crowbar some days. She always likes to have some level of connection with him when they are together, even if it’s just her hand on his. What she likes best is to be in his lap and able to unwind with her head against his shoulder while he writes or studies.

Who’s the big spoon/little spoon: Hel tried to be the big spoon and was thwarted. It made some weird alignment given he’s so much taller than her, so she succumbed to playing little spoon. It’s more fun that way anyway, when he can bury his face in all her hair and keep his arms around her to make her feel safe.

What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: Magical studies and, apparently, mortifying Tsura with their understanding of modern slang. Doom is a great teacher when it comes to catching Hel up with the schooling she missed coming of age in Helheim, and there is little better than hearing a nearly 50 year old man and centuries old goddess utter the words ‘oh, worm.’

Who uses all the hot water: Hel. Victor should probably science some way that she can get as much hot water as she wants for her baths without actually depleting it for everyone else. She says he is welcome to join her if it troubles him so much, to which she probably gets a ‘Don’t change the subject,’ thus foiling her plan to ruin the subject.

Most trivial thing they fight over: Hel ‘cheating’ her way through a language lesson. She paid good money for that Latverian phrasebook. Victor is just so disappointed in her.

Who does most of the cleaning: Servants. Seriously, they’re both royal. She has Ganglot and Gangloti, he has a castle worth of help. 

What has a season pass on their dvr/Who controls the netflix queue: I imagine Tsura has primary reign, actually. When she’s not around to man the remote, it usually falls to Hel. I don’t know that Victor has been able to handle the netflix queue in months.

Who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working:  Victor already fixed it before it ever became an issue. Hel is both impressed and mildly alarmed. Is there anything that this man cannot do?

Who leaves their stuff around: Yes, the answer is he cannot put away some of his shit. Yes, he has servants, but it’s the spirit of the thing, Victor. He has the ultimate out of motioning at her own stuff left lying about and making her admit he has a point. For the most part, both are very tidy, and it’s never anything major.

Who remembers to buy the milk: Serv– You know what, actually, Victor. He’s a human. He’s lived on Earth. He has exchanged currency for goods and services before. He’s been to college and ostensibly had to purchase food before whilst living in his dorm. He understands how shopping works far, far better than his ‘ageless but only theoretically mastered this whole life on Earth thing’ lover.

Who remembers anniversaries:  Both of them. I also get the feeling neither of them is above trying to use wit and cunning to figure out what the other has gotten them. The week leading up to any anniversary is fraught with espionage and interrogations. No one in the castle can sleep. Everyone is afraid of walking in and seeing something that renders them culpable. 

Who cooks normally: This one time Hel tried to cook to be sweet. Latveria almost lost its beloved king that night. Hel’s cooking is more potent than any poison of mortal make. It falls to the servants now, as it should.

How often do they fight: A little sparring between partners, whether magical or physical, keeps the spark alive – as Hel tries to climb out the window. Joking aside, 

What do they do when they’re away from each other: Both have kingdoms to rule, but Victor also continues his scientific and magical pursuits and generally being a thorn in the F4′s side, where Hel has her reading and wandering around Midgard. 

Nicknames for each other: Hel likes to show just how well she’s learned the languages he’s taught her, predominantly Latverian and Hungarian. I’ve already used csillagom here – which amounts to ‘my star’ in Hungarian – which I think is a good indication for how she addresses Victor in private, that he’s radiant, that he’s celestial, something that examines his power and what she perceives as his light. By contrast, and you can correct me on these Rock Facts, but I imagine Victor is a bit more gentle with her, tender. A bit more grounded than Hel tends to be, something to remind her how good she can be, while still acknowledging her power and ability.

Who is more likely to pay for dinner: Hel does and then takes him to very expensive places so she does not get any less than she paid for when she forks over literal gold. It’s horrifying. She has such little money and it’s all older than several cultures. But at least she gets to wine and dine her favorite man.

Who steals the covers at night: Victor. Hel is charmed but ultimately confounded on mornings where he ends up in some kind of blanket burrito. Is he aware that this is not his cape? 

What would they get each other for gifts: Hel brings Victor old tomes, beautifully inscribed and illustrated, from when magic was very young on this plane. Also, since he apparently likes metal so much, bits of jewelry and metalwork for if he ever feels fancy, either with some history behind it or specifically made for him alone. Victor, meanwhile, I imagine likes to see Hel in style while also putting a lot of thought into this – his lady will wear no common finery. Jewels and symbols of status, enhancements woven into their surface.

Who kissed who first: Hel. She had to test and see if he could take the ‘interesting’ texture of her lips. To her surprise, not only could he take it, he liked it.  

Who made the first move: Victor. Hel was far too concerned about Victor’s boundaries to make her move, propriety keeping her within the bounds of the platonic even when she wanted more. She was unsure of how to show her interest, so Victor beat her to the chase. Sufficed to say, Hel was more than receptive.

Who remembers things: Victor. It’s honestly mind-boggling just how much information he retains, but Hel is not about to question it. The most he ever gets is a joke that he makes her feel her age when it comes to trying to remember things.

Who started the relationship: Again, Victor. Otherwise, nothing would have gotten down and Hel would have just sat in ‘this is fine’… well, hell. Mentor and student to friends to, finally, after quite long enough, lovers.

Who cusses more: They’re too articulate for that, really. Hel slips up once and curses and is mortified, to Victor’s endless amusement.

What would they do if the other one was hurt: Victor probably would not let it happen, having cast some protective magic over Hel in the event of any attack. Then he would deal with that threat to the best of his abilities – God help them. Hel, meanwhile, is as usual more defensive, more likely to shield and focus on getting Victor out of any fray terrible enough to leave serious damage. 

Who is the dirty talker: Victor is the literal worst and by that I mean he’s so good that Hel cannot with him. And the most obnoxious part is he is probably well aware that he is good. He can be subtle, too, so everyone might see the shot but only Hel actually feels it hit. Somewhere in the vicinity of her brain, as it spirals into the gutter. Don’t worry, other parts are affected too, far, far south.

A head canon: Once, after Hel had become well acquainted with the locals of the capital, they managed to wheedle her into a certain outfit for a festival, so she could ‘get into the spirit’. Hel ended up caught in the celebrations in the central square, clad in a traditional Latverian dress, her long dark hair down, having herself a time. It was around the middle of the day she turned, saw Victor, and could do nothing but smile. The outfit and its colors really did flatter her, as did her easy grin and bright eyes. And so it was that Victor Von Doom, looking down on his subjects, seeing a new side to Hel, had to tell himself be strong, Victor. Be strong for mother.

[tauers-go-dutch]

Concerts, Beer, and Independence

Dinant, Belgium 

Over the past couple of weeks, Mariah and I have been laying low—er , well, laying low compared to the crazy travel we’ve been doing lately—but we’ve still been doing lots of fun things around Amsterdam (and Belgium).  I thought I’d share some of our adventures.

Amsterdam has a great music scene, and we’ve been to some awesome concerts.  First, we saw Linkin Park, whose Hybrid Theory CD was the first one I purchased way back in middle school.  I have to say that though they are climbing in age, they put on a great show with an insane amount of energy.  If you haven’t been keeping up with Linkin Park’s music lately, you should. The newer songs are pretty good, and their old hits from middle school still rock today. (Edit: this blog was written before lead singer Chester Bennington’s untimely death. We are sad and feel fortunate to have seen them live before he passed away.) Another middle school band, Sum 41, opened for them, and they actually cover Queen pretty well.  Second, we saw Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats in a pretty cool outdoor theater just outside of Amsterdam. While it’s no Red Rocks, it does provide a nice backdrop to listen to some good music. I liked it so much that I bought Miranda Lambert tickets there for August.  BTW, Nathaniel Rateliff is great live and worth seeing (don’t forget to check out his concert swag—one of the few non-beer shirts I now own).  Third, we saw another country artist, American Young. While Amsterdam apparently has a respectable country following (not all of which are American expats), it has its limits. These guys didn’t pack the house, but we enjoyed the intimate concert on an otherwise sleepy Tuesday night.  

Middle-school Mariah was pleased

Linkin Park. Pretty bummed about Chester Bennington.

Nathaniel Rateliff with Brent & Christine

We’ve also been passing the time with some friends, old and new.  Our friend Tyler, who is about to return to Denver after spending two years in London, visited Amsterdam for a couple of days with his brother and a couple of friends. We had a great time checking out some of the bars around the city with these guys.  Our friends Brent and Christine, who coincidentally moved from Denver to Amsterdam, hosted a Fourth of July party.  It was great fun, especially since the majority of guests were not American, which provided a lot of opportunities for tongue-in-cheek jokes and gags. The best attire is a tie between the Dutch man, Jella, sporting the Trump shirt, and the Swedish man, Karl, in the Putin tee. (Yes, they were both worn as jokes.) We may have also introduced ‘shotgunning beers’ to all of the Europeans. Reactions ranged from ‘I gotta try this’ to a not-so-subtle eye-roll. On the actual 4th of July, I made a very American meal—steak and mac’n’cheese (Kraft, of course).  It was a delicious reminder of home—thanks for the care packages everyone!

The American gang. See Mariah inserted herself appropriately. 

Sparklers on the ‘Make America Great Again’ cake (take that as you will, given the lovely condition of the cake in the photo)

The two coolest guys at the party 

Explaining how to ‘shotgun’ a beer

As I mentioned above, taking it easy was a relative term.  While we haven’t flown anywhere for a few weeks, we did make a road trip to Belgium. Ok, ok, so it was a weekend trip, but honestly I’ve begun to just consider Belgium part of our backyard.  As an aside, if anyone who wants to visit and has Belgium on their list, Brussels is a three-hour bus trip away, and it only costs 35 euro for the round trip.  I’m always up for going!

We rented a car for a quick weekend to Belgium, chiefly to acquire some really nice Belgian lambics (sour beers from the region surrounding Brussels) and to visit a few Trappist abbeys.  Our first stop, of course, was Cantillon in Brussels.  While I normally enjoy staying for a beer or two at the brewery (and by ‘a beer’ I mean a 750mL bottle), we had a lot of stops and I only bought some (ok, several) beers to go.  We stopped at a brunch/lunch spot called Peck 20 (sister café Peck 47 is in the city center if you’re visiting).  Mariah had the house special (poached eggs and waffles) and I had a surprisingly decent Cuban sandwich.  After getting some chocolate for the road, we went to 3 Fonteinen, another lambic brewery. We actually stayed to enjoy a beer (Homage 2013- a specialty lambic blend with raspberries and cherries), and bought more to go.  Mariah really enjoys the lambic beers (basically the only type of beer she will drink), so she even bought a shirt.

Favorite Brussels breakfast spot. And yes, we already stopped at our favorite chocolate shop. We needed to break a 20 for the parking meter. 

New shirt! 

Short on time, we continued our way southeast, deep into the French-speaking region of Belgium and very close to the border.  We made it to our destination about an hour before it was closed to visitors, which turned out to be just enough to marvel at the beautiful Abbaye d’Orval.  The majority of the abbey is closed to visitors (unless you schedule a spiritual retreat of two to seven days), but you can still see the amazing architecture.  The sculpture of Mary and the infant Jesus is as large as it is breathtaking, and is the first thing that you notice arriving to the abbey.  The ruins of the old abbey are open to visitors, and are very beautiful as well.  After taking in the sites, we stopped at the nearby A l’Ange Gardien café for dinner and Petite Orval, which is a lighter version of the famous Orval beer only available to the public at this café.  After dinner, we drove to our hotel just outside the town of Dinant. Dinant, as we found out, is the home of the inventor of the saxophone, and fully embraces that heritage. Several countries from around the globe painted custom saxophone statues to display in the town.  I have to say that the Dutch Delft saxophone was one of the more impressive ones!

Abbaye d’Orvale

In the morning, we decided to double back to the French border to visit yet another abbey, Abbaye de Chimay. Chimay has long been one of my favorites—especially the blue-labeled grand cru (go by color if you’re looking for it, as the label name changes but the color indicates the beer).  We bought tickets to see a short museum that explains the origins of the brewery and beers, and it included a free beer!  We also explored the abbey itself, which included a nice walk through the woods and a peek into the church (mass was in session, so we tried not to disturb the ceremony). We made our way back to the bar and enjoyed our beers.  I strongly debated buying a bike jersey, but decided I wouldn’t wear it for at least a year and I already spent an exorbitant amount of money on beer. Regardless, we left and made our way back to the Netherlands, but not without a quick stop back in Dinant for some Neuhaus Belgian chocolate!

Chimay

Crossing the border back into the Netherlands, we decided to make yet another stop at yet another abbey.  This time we visited Abdij Koningshoeven, the older and more widely known of the two Trappist abbeys in the Netherlands.  Haven’t heard of it? Ask your liquor store for ‘La Trappe,’ and I’m sure they have some. The grounds of this abbey are largely inaccessible to the public, much like Orval.  However, they have a large restaurant with a patio and a humongous lawn where you can sprawl out and enjoy some beer. The only downside is that the bartenders often over-pour and allow the beer to spill over on the glass before clearing the excess head with a bar blade (think the Stella Antois commercials).  It’s very Dutch and very annoying.  But I digress, the abbey is very much worth visiting, and I did pick up a barrel-aged quad from the shop before we made our way back to Amsterdam.  We’re still enjoying our European adventures, even when we aren’t jet setting for the weekend.  

Tot ziens for now!

[mikkeneko]

2016 writing retrospective

Thanks to all the people that tagged me :) I did this last year, so I might as well do it again! I put the full list of fics at the bottom, so people don't have to scroll past it.

Total number of completed stories?

18-ish (iffy, see 'Word Count')

Total word count?

AO3 gives a word count of 221,975 but I think that's iffy; it's slightly inflated by a few non-story entries, fics that were crossposted to AO3 late that were actually written in 2015, and also does not  count tumblr-only fics. Still, let's take it as a fairly good indicator, maybe add another 15k for the off-site fics.

Fandoms written in?

Almost exclusively Dragon Age, with one exception for the Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle Olympics this year.

Ship/character breakdown?

This year definitely has a lot more Fenris in it than last year, although Anders remains the primary focus. Hawke and Justice have both stepped back a bit. Also a few unusual POV characters, like Cole and Merrill.

Looking back, did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Less, I'd have to say. I took a hiatus from my big project around about August in the hopes that I could knock out a big batch of other fics and get back to it, but they're still not done and I'm still not back to it. It didn't help that I got pretty sick in the fall, and that work has been insanely stressful pretty much all year, which combined to rob me of any creative energy in the later part of the year.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

Personally I really liked 'Once Upon A Time (the Ballad of Ser Pounce-a-lot)' for its unusual format and mixture of cuteness and angst.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

Nothing spectacular; I wrote a few stories in epistolary format, which was new for me, and I tried out Cole's POV, which is very challenging.Plus ‘once upon a time,’ as mentioned above.

Do you have any fanfic or profit goals for the new year?

I really want to get back to One Elegant Solution and I'd really like to finish it; and, as always, I want to get into writing practice screenplays. Whether any of this will actually happen, I can't say for sure.

Most popular story of the year?

'One Elegant Solution' has the most hits by far, but I'm not sure it's fair to count that as a 2016 story when it was started in 2015. 'Subtle Touch' and 'To Hold Back the Sky' are about evenly matched as runner-ups. But I have to say that my biggest dark horse fic is actually 'Love Story,' the Templar/Desire Demon tumblr-only post that went viral.

Most under-appreciated by the universe?

I might have to go with 'Let His Name Be Not Forgotten,' a Cole-centric story that remains my only purely Inquisition-era fic. It got very little attention, probably because I'm not generally a DAI writer and so most DAI fans would have no reason to come to my profile. Still, I was very pleased with it.

Most fun story to write?

'Demensum Kirkwall Defensor,' aka 'Tevinter Has Imax,' aka the 'Ember Island Players for Dragon Age II' story where Anders, Hawke, Isabela and Fenris sit through a terrible cinematic adaptation of their own exploits. There were so many in-jokes and roasts in that fic… It was a blast.

Most sexy story?

Probably 'To Hold Back the Sky' simply because most of the other fics don't have sex scenes in them at all. I do think the 'zero-g threesome sex' scene turned out well, despite my apprehensions about it.

Most sweet story?

I might actually have to go with 'Fruits of Posion, Flowers of Blood,' the Merrill-centric story. Anders comes to help Merrill when she's sick, and though I'm pretty sure I succeeded at keeping everyone in character, I was definitely drawing on the more tender, sweet aspects of those characters.

“Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you!” story?

Nothing on the main list really fits this category. Hm. Let's look at tumblr exclusives… There was the ‘elves as egg-layers’ fic, but that’s not really all that wild. I think my ‘testing boundaries’ phase of fandom writing is behind me, overall.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters?

Perhaps 'To Hold Back the Sky' again. It and 'Blood Feathers' were my first attempts at really writing Fenris as a POV character, and that does change your perception of a character somewhat.

Most unintentionally telling story:

I'm not really sure what this means. I think this is the sort of question someone else would have to answer FOR me. The ‘Sit In Judgment’ series probably comes the closest to being my unfiltered fandom meta opinion, wherein I don’t really try that hard to hide my biases, but because of that I’m not sure it’s ‘unintentional.’

Hardest story to write?

'To Hold Back The Sky' has actually been insanely difficult to write, as much fun as it's been. I've struggled with pretty much every chapter, even the ones that ought to have been easy. I'm not entirely sure why it's been so hard. Constructing the worldbuilding and the plot has been easy, it's the actual writing that's hard.

Biggest disappointment?

As much as I hate to say it, it might have to be 'Blood Feathers.' While the end result was fun and people seemed to like it, it was a very truncated version of what the story really ought to have been and I think the finished product suffered for that. It ought to have been a much longer story about Fenris slowly growing into his role as a Warden and his bond with his griffon, but instead jumps over almost all of the character growth to play around with a 'fenris is a warden' for a few scenes before shoehorning in a romance plotline and then ending abruptly. I simply didn't have the time, or perhaps the energy (since this fic was written after I started to get sick) to really give it the space it deserved.  

And as promised, here's the full list of fics!

TIME ENOUGH 

ONE ELEGANT SOLUTION 

TO HOLD BACK THE SKY

BLOOD FEATHERS

DEMENSUM KIRKWALL DEFENSOR

GLASS 

A GOOD DAY 

THE LONG RUN

LET HIS NAME BE NOT FORGOTTEN

LESSONS 

ONCE UPON A TIME (the ballad of ser pounce)

Pride and Prejudice (and Gambling Debts)

Subtle Touch 

One Epistolary Solution 

An Avvar Love Story: THE LAST STRAW

Sit In Judgment: Anders 

fruits of poison, flowers of blood 

Not posted on AO3 for some reason, but still written this year:

RESET (Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle)

And that’s all!

[huelskamp19]

Kampy Takes a Look At: Ghostwatch

Spoilers

               I love horror movies. I love found footage horror movies. The intense sensation the viewer experiences by seeing events unfold as though they were actually in the film, framed by the first person Point of view of filming techniques, is a cinematic trope of which I have yet to tire of. Filmmakers must construct these films with much more care than a typical horror film. It’s difficult to strike a balance of showing too much, ruining the realistic feel of the film, and showing too little, disappointing the audience with an unfulfilling pay off to the cinematic haunted house. Filmmakers must also strike a delicate balance with the protagonists, which act as the audience surrogate; compelling enough to carry the story with clear purpose while being generic enough that the audience can continue to insert themselves into the film. The UK television mockumentary, Ghostwatch succeeds in overcoming both of these difficulties masterfully. While not a perfect film, Ghostwatch makes many choices, which help to both draw the viewer into the drama as though they were truly present for the events in question, creates a compelling cast of characters in which the audience can interact, and creates unsettling atmosphere and subtle scares which never go too far into the absurd. It’s no wonder that the film would inspire many in the UK to believe it was real upon it’s initial airing, but would also go on to inspire a whole slew of found footage style horror films –most notably, The Blair Witch Project.

               The BBC’s Ghostwatch is a 90-minute horror story shot in a documentary style that aired in 1992 as a part of the BBC’s “Screen One” drama series. While the special was clearly indicated to be a work of fiction, it is based on the paranormal case of the Enfield Poltergeist. Heavily investigated and criticized, with evidence both confirming and denying it as a potential hoax, this poltergeist case was in the forefront of every paranormal investigator’s mind as one of the most compelling pieces of supernatural occurrences. Many casual viewers who watched the special were terrified by what they saw, and later angered when they found out it was a work of fiction. Tabloids were outraged by the disturbing imagery and frightened viewers continued to call the network even after the airing. To this day, the special has not aired again on the BBC. However, its rise to cult status and its influence on modern day found footage horror films cannot be understated. Many of the found footage techniques this film utilized are found today in modern horror films, including the dreaded mirror scare (which I hate). This just goes to show the influence this film holds over filmmakers, even 25 years later.

               The special stars professional reporters Michael Parkinson, Sarah Greene, Mike Smith and Craig Charles as themselves and actress Gillian Bevan as the in studio parapsychologist. Sarah Greene is sent with her camera crew to investigate the potential haunting of a house in Greater London. Through interviews with neighbors, on site happenings, and in studio investigation with calling viewers, it is revealed that the house is haunted by a malevolent spirit the children who live in the house call “Pipes”. In the end, all hell breaks loose and the viewer is left to wonder what will happen next as the special ends with Michael Parkinson reciting the creepy nursery rhyme Pipes was fond of.

               The framing, through a news network investigation, is a boon to the special as it allows the viewers to both feel as though they are participating in the haunted excursion and to have a compelling protagonist to act as the focal point of the film. The audience is viewing the events unfolding from the perspective of the relatively silent cameraman, focusing on Sarah. With Sarah Greene acting as the mouthpiece for the audience while having her own agenda, the viewer becomes invested in not only the happenings of the haunting, but also the wellbeing of an actual character that we have come to know and identify with. Greene plays herself as inquisitive, but somewhat skeptical, much like the average viewer would be. I think this is one of the main reasons viewers were drawn in and compelled to believe the events that took place as truth, as opposed to listening to the disclaimer at the beginning of the show; Greene acts as your average joe, or jane, while investigating. Even though she kindly takes care of the kids that live in the house while their mother observes, she is shown to be skeptical of their claims due to ever nature as a reporter. However, at the same time, she wants to believe them as she herself is a woman who is excited by the prospects of the supernatural. This duality, along with the depth of her performance, makes Green a fascinating character to watch as the chaos around her unfolds.

               The special itself holds an air of skeptical realism, with much of the haunting itself being like real world claims of paranormal activity. Inanimate objects moving, seeing glimpses of something out of the corner of your eye, recordings seemingly changing depending on the viewer, weird sounds at night, and such. Michael Parkinson falls on the opposite side of the spectrum of belief desire. He’s quite sure the whole thing is a hoax but doesn’t want to let on to this fact due to the ratings monster that the special had the potential to be. He surrounds himself with those who want to believe and yet he himself has a hard time doing so. It’s the perfect juxtaposition to Greene. The weird sounds are easily explained away in the studio as natural phenomenon (heating pipes and leaky faucets, for example) and the possessed voices are explained as the girls playing tricks. However, we as the audience and Greene on location, know something isn’t quite right.

               So, all of this is good and whatnot, but how effective are the scares? Well, pretty effective, honestly. Thankfully, as a found footage style special, the subtle scares are as true for the viewer as they are for Greene’s character. The ghost is never seen fully and is often hidden in the background, with fleeting, but unsettling glances. Sometimes the lighting is set up in such a way to trick the viewer into seeing something that isn’t there. Sometime, the actor playing the ghost is wearing clothes to blend in with the background, giving the audience a vague, humanoid outline that seems to appear and disappear at random. Even the mirror bit -which I hate- is present when the specter appears in a reflective surface suddenly, only to disappear when the character turns away. A great example of this thoughtful staging would be early in the film when a video camera catches a glimpse of something at night. The two girls who live in the house are going to sleep in their room and when the lights go out, you can vaguely see a humanoid figure against the curtains alongside the window. A “viewer” calls in about this and when the footage is played back, the shadows of the room’s lighting makes it appears there is something standing in front of the curtain, but there isn’t. Later, the footage is played again and you can clearly see something watching the girls as they sleep. In truth, there were 3 different versions of this scene shot. One had no ghost, one had a transparent ghost, and the third had the curtain set up purposefully to make the shadow fall in such a way that tricks the viewer into seeing something. The average viewer would have been, and was, tricked into thinking that they, perhaps, hadn’t seen anything at all when in reality there was something in the room. This effects staging is prevalent all throughout the film and is so impressive that so far not all the apparition appearances in the film have been recorder, with a new sighting occurring every couple of years.

               Like anything, Ghostwatch isn’t without its faults. Some of the segments, like the interview with the skeptic from the US, are too slow and mess up the pacing of the actual investigation, which is the heart of the film. The actors playing the little girls are a bit distracting with their line delivery being rather forced. Though this may be a result of their ages and inexperience at acting. The last 15 minutes of the film also escalates too quickly and the tone shift is sudden enough to give you a case a whiplash. Finally, the use of the viewer calls to dump exposition at the very end of the film felt like a cop out to explain the haunting, rather than something that developed organically or could be left ambiguous. However, most of these issues are overcome by the strength of the reporter’s performances, the quality of the scares, and the atmosphere the special carefully builds.

               Ghostwatch is a fascinating film with a great sense of atmosphere and intrigue. As a precursor to many of the found footage films we see today, it’s easy to see where many of the influences are drawn from. While the beginning can be a bit slow, the payoffs and scares are well worth it. It succeeds in creating a dramatic, tense atmosphere while ensuring the audience remains a part of the film and remain invested in the protagonist. This is difficult for any film to achieve, much less a found footage film. Ghostwatch, surprisingly, does it wonderfully. It’s especially commendable due to being a early 90’s BBC production, which traditionally have suffered from low budgets and studio interference. Thankfully, neither hindered this piece.

 Rating: 8/10 – Ghostwatch is a well-crafted, albeit slow starting, scare filled ride which not only wants to include the audience in it’s fun, but also develop a strong story and characters to leave as much impact on its viewers and genre as it can.

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‘There Are Too Many Minefields’: Readers on Swiping and Dating in the Trump Era

At a time when politics have become so intensely personal and divisive, how are people navigating the topic in the already fraught world of online dating?

With President Trump’s impeachment trial underway, and the race for the Democratic presidential nomination picking up, we asked readers who use online dating what they look for politically in a potential match and how they signal their own views.

More than 200 people responded, many echoing the sentiments of one woman who had been open to dating people with different political views but who changed her mind in the current climate. “Now, your political beliefs are a referendum on your entire life, with all your values aligned neatly under a single label,” Kristine Kinsey of Knoxville, Tenn., wrote.

While some said they didn’t think politics was important in the dating calculus, far more thought the subject was crucial in evaluating possible partners, often sleuthing for subtle profile clues that might indicate their values.

Here is a selection of the responses, which have been lightly edited.

Taking an upfront approach

Image

Credit…David Tulanian

I don’t really make a conscious effort to either screen people out or in based on their political beliefs. What I have found, sadly, is people boldly announcing, “No Trump-Republicans need apply.”

I like to keep an open mind, so I don’t want to avoid a whole group of people who may not share all my politics.

Before, I would never dream of informing everyone about my politics. But as time goes on, I’m starting to declare that I support Trump! — David Tulanian, 59, Las Vegas

•

All of my bios specifically state something like “No Republicans,” “No Trump supporters” or even, “If you don’t care about politics, I don’t care about you.”

I’ve also been known to send the first message to all of my matches asking if they’re Republican.

This has produced some memorable conversations with offended conservatives and also gotten me some dates with like-minded swipers. — Alyssa Parssinen, 33, Manchester, N.H.

•

I just come right out and say I’m progressive politically and that I’m an atheist. These things are too important to leave out.

At least one conservative and one middle-of-the-road guy have argued with me that I’m not being open-minded, and aren’t liberals supposed to be open-minded? — Susan K. Perry, 73, Los Angeles

Deciding what not to say on your profile

I think I might prefer to date someone with different political ideologies.

I intentionally leave off my conservative affiliation because I live in New York. I’m having a hard time getting matches online as it is.

There are people of good and bad character across the political spectrum. If we start segregating ourselves romantically based on politics, well, that’s not going to help society get to a better place, is it? — Curtis Chou, 27, New York

•

I’m an evangelical Christian. I leave that off the profile because there are too many minefields that can get triggered if that stuff is in a profile.

Disagreements on all individual issues are fine with me. I’ve been close to people who don’t trust government to do away with gun violence. I’ve dated women who believe abortion is murder. I’ve been close to girls who think immigration is too high.

But say the “T” word and I’m out, without explanation, without exception, without the slightest deliberation. — Winston Steward, 48, Los Angeles

Branching out

We were getting cozy on the couch, and I can’t remember why now, but I said, “Wait a second, you didn’t vote for Trump, did you?”

And he said, “Um, I was in the military and I grew up in the South.”

And I was like, whoa. WHAT THE [expletive]?!?! It totally turned the night on its head.

But we got past it and had a pretty decent open conversation about it a couple of days later when he took me to a diner where every TV (and there were a lot of them) was tuned to Fox News. — Christina Galante, 47, Long Island

•

I went out on a limb with a guy who said he was “Christian,” which I would never normally swipe “yes” on. He described his beliefs as “I don’t necessarily believe in a God. I don’t believe in heaven.” With my strong understanding of Christian beliefs, I knew he wasn’t really a Christian. So we went out.

And now we’re official and have fun theological conversations that I never expected! — Laurel Westendorf, 32, Bend, Ore.

•

The few times I tried to talk to someone conservative it ended in an argument.

One guy basically told me he didn’t care if people’s rights were being taken away because his 401(k) was amazing. Also another guy argued that global warming was not real and created so scientists could make money.

While I was very hesitant online to match with someone who voted for Trump, I did end up meeting my current boyfriend through friends and he did vote for Trump but will not do so again. We don’t agree on many things politically, which can be challenging, but we are able to have good discussions and challenge each other. — Heather MacLachlan, 31, Lakewood, Ohio

When Trump enters the equation

In the past, I was more open to dating a conservative Republican. In the age of Trump, though, I’ve learned it’s best not to go there. We simply aggravate each other, and that’s no way to start a relationship.

I’ve had several conservative men tell me that they like dating a liberal woman, that they think it’s “spicy” and “exciting.”

I am no man’s hot sauce, that’s for sure! — Felicia Lowery, 58, Tucson

•

I am a conservative Trump supporter, BUT I value hearing other opinions. If a poster (on Tinder) says “Trump supporters swipe left,” I swipe left because that is a close-minded person.

I value dialogue and learning from others and having others learn from my views. My views are firm, but subject to change by learning! — Kamal Hamid, 58, Denver

•

At 20, I dated the man who would become my husband (and later, my ex-husband), knowing he was a Republican.

In the early ’90s, the world was less polarized and politics still seemed at least a little noble, so you could respect a different perspective and even sleep with it.

Now, your political beliefs are a referendum on your entire life with all your values aligned neatly under a single label.

My ex was a liberal by the time I married him, but 20 years later, I made sure my next partners were already my flavor, politically. — Kristine Kinsey, 49, Knoxville, Tenn.

•

I’d date someone indifferent, but I couldn’t date someone who supports impeachment.

Politics is not actually that important, but it’s a fun topic. — Peter Gormley, 24, New York City

•

Image

Credit…Megan Reilley

I try to be open-minded, but the fact is, a vote for Trump means a vote against my family.

I have a trans kid and I won’t spend time talking to or meeting someone who either doesn’t believe in human rights for everyone or doesn’t think about the far-reaching implications of their vote.

I need to keep my kid safe, which means I screen potential dates. I signal my values by stating simply that I am not conservative in any way.

Surprisingly, many men interpret this as a reference to my sexual predilection. — Megan Reilley, 47, Hagerstown, Md.

Leaving politics out

I don’t screen dates on their political beliefs. I don’t knowingly signal my beliefs.

A person’s politics when dating is a three out of 10 on importance, where a 10 out of 10 is very important. — Thomas Liquet, 28, the Bronx

•

I find politics interesting, but it’s just not something I find fun.

While I probably would consider myself fairly liberal, I don’t give any indication of that on my profile because, frankly, I’m not interested in dating someone who would form their opinion of me based on that (for better or for worse). — Jonathan Pascale, 25, Houston

Lara Takenaga contributed reporting.

A note to readers who are not subscribers: This article from the Reader Center does not count toward your monthly free article limit.

Follow the @ReaderCenter on Twitter for more coverage highlighting your perspectives and experiences and for insight into how we work.

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Type Families

Module: Type Families

A type family is a range of typeface designs that are variations of one basic style of alphabet. There are hundreds – maybe thousands – of typeface families. This module will provide information and insight into the most important

About Typeface Families

When typefaces were first invented, the notion of having a family of type hadn’t occurred to anyone. All fonts were simply roman designs. In the early 16th century, cursive – or italic (named after Italy, where the idea was popularized) – type was introduced. There were still no typeface families; romans were one style of type and italics were another – much like serif and sans serif.

Guide to Typestyles: Didone Typefaces

The term Didone – a combination of Didot and Bodoni – aptly describes Neoclassical (or Modern) typefaces. First popular from the late 18th through the 19th centuries, they have inspired many contemporary interpretations. We showcase a sampling of seven well-designed options we find both useful and versatile.

Guide to Typestyles: Old Style Typefaces

A wide array of popular old style type families is available in digital form today. In addition to old style figures, many of them offer small caps, swashes and other distinctive characters. We present our selection of seven of the most useful and well-designed families.

Guide to Typestyles: Slab Serifs

Slab serif typefaces, with their block-like appenditures, project solidity, style, and confidence. We survey seven that are particularly well-designed, to help you select the best slab for the job.

The Letter A

No one knows why ‘A’ is the first letter of our alphabet. Some think it’s because this letter represents one of the most common vowel sounds in ancient languages of the western hemisphere. Other sources argue against this theory because there were no vowel sounds in the Phoenician language. (The Phoenician alphabet is generally thought to be the basis of the one we use today.)

The Letter B

Many people consider shelter to be the second most important ingredient for human survival. Coincidentally, the second letter in our alphabet evolved from the ancient Egyptian hieroglyph signifying shelter.

The Letter C

For much of their history, the ‘C’ and ‘G’ evolved as the same letter. The Phoenicians named this letter gimel, meaning “camel,” and used it to indicate the sound roughly equivalent to our present-day ‘g.’ They drew the character with two quick diagonal strokes, creating something that looked like an upside-down ‘V’ that is short on one side.

The Letter D

When the Egyptians used the symbol for a hand (their word “deret”) to indicate the sound value of “D,” it served its purpose adequately. However, when the Phoenicians adopted much of the Egyptian hieratic system of writing (a kind of abridged form of hieroglyphics), they didn’t know which objects many of the signs actually depicted.

The Letter E

As any Scrabble player will tell you, ‘e’ has always been an important letter in our alphabet, used more often than any other. In the Internet age, however, ‘e’ has achieved near-ubiquitous popularity, since it can be tacked on at will on to almost any other word to imply the white heat of the technological revolution.

The Letter F

In its earliest years, the letter that evolved into our F was an Egyptian hieroglyph that literally was a picture of a snake. This was around 3,000 B.C.

The Letter G

Generally speaking, there are no launch dates for the letters of our alphabet. For the most part they’ve come down to us through an evolutionary process, with shapes that developed slowly over a long period of time. The G, however, is an exception. In fact, our letter G made its official debut in 312 B.C.

The Letter H

Frankly, of all the letters, the H is the most boring. Stable and symmetrical, with both feet planted firmly on the ground, the H has been predictable in its design and use throughout much of its history.

The Letters I and J

The letters I and J follow each other in the alphabet and look a lot alike. So it comes as no surprise to discover that our ninth and tenth letters started out as the same character.

The Letter K

Some letters are slaves to fashion. They’ll change their images for any number of reasons: to satisfy the whim of some snazzy new writing utensil, or even because they’ve taken up with a different language. The K, however, sticks to the tried and true. It’s remained virtually unchanged for the last three thousand years or so.

The Letter L

The Egyptian equivalent of our L was first represented by the image of a lion. Over centuries, this image evolved into a much simpler hieratic character that became the basis of the letter we know today. When the Phoenicians developed their alphabet around 1000 B.C., the ‘el’ sound was depicted by several more-simplified versions of the hieratic symbol. Some were rounded and some were angular.

The Letter M

Historians tell us that our current M started out as the Egyptian hieroglyph for “owl.” Over thousands of years, this simple line drawing was further distilled into the hieratic symbol for the ‘em’ sound. Eventually, the great-grandparent of our M looked a bit like a handwritten ‘m’ balanced on the tip of one stroke.

The Letter N

The early form of the N was always closely associated with water. When the sign was used by the Phoenicians more than three thousand years ago, it was called “nun” (pronounced noon), which meant fish. Before the Phoenicians, the Egyptian hieroglyph (or picture sign) for the ‘n’ sound was a wavy line representing water.

The Letter O

Some believe that our present O evolved from a Phoenician symbol; others vote for an even more ancient Egyptian heiroglyph as the source. The most fanciful explanation, though, is offered by Rudyard Kipling in his Just So Stories. “How the Alphabet was Made” recounts how a Neolithic tribesman and his precocious daughter invent the alphabet by drawing pictures to represent sounds. After finishing the A and Y (inspired by the mouth and tail of a carp), the child, Taffy, asks her father to make another sound that she can translate into a picture.

The Letter P

New words are being invented all the time to keep up with changes in technology and daily life. This may have been one of the reasons the Phoenicians came up with the innovative notion of a phonetic alphabet: one in which the letters represented sounds. It was an elegant and practical idea, and it’s obviously had a huge impact on the nature of writing to this day.

The Letter Q

For as long as there have been Qs, designers have been having fun with the letter’s tail. This opportunity for typographic playfulness may even date back to the Phoenicians: the original ancestor of our Q was called “ooph,” the Phoenician word for monkey. The ooph represented an emphatic guttural sound not found in English, or in any Indo-European language.

The Letter R

The letter R is a more exceptional character than it first appears. It’s not a P with a tail or a B with a broken bowl; when drawn correctly, the R is rich with subtle details and delicate proportions. It can be the most challenging letter for type designers to create, and the most – dare we say – rewarding.

The Letter S

Any way you look at it, the S is a complicated letter. Not only is it one of the more challenging characters to draw, but the story of its evolution has more twists, turns, and reverses than its shape.

Letter T

Four thousand years ago, just as today, people who could not write used a simple cross to sign letters and formal documents. One might logically assume that this common signature stand-in was the origin of our present X. But what looked like an X to ancient writers eventually gave birth to the Roman T.

Letters U, V, W and Y

The story of U is also the story of our V, W and Y. In fact, the origins of U even have something in common with the F, the sixth letter of our alphabet.

Letter X

Though the origins of this letter are actually somewhat "fishy," the X made its way into our alphabet by way of the usual suspects: the Phoenicians, the Greeks, and the Romans.

Letter Z

Nowadays we can't imagine a parade of letters without a Z bringing up the rear, but our 26th letter almost never made it into the alphabet at all.

Punctuation

Punctuation marks tell us when to slow down, stop, get excited or lift a quizzical eyebrow.

Ampersand

Like many letters in our current alphabet, the ampersand probably began as a convenience. The Latin word et (meaning “and”) was first written as two distinct letters, but over time the ‘e’ and ‘t’ were combined into a ligature of sorts.

Numbers

Roman numerals can be quite attractive in chapter headings, but aren't you glad you don't have to do your taxes with them? Thank the Arabs for that; if not for their numbering system, Western mathematics would be X times as hard.

source:https://www.fonts.com/content/learning/fontology/level-1/type-families