#But I had to change the expressions and some dialogue based on their personality

[sarcastic-hats]

I've seen couple of clothes swap between those, and it had me thinking, okay, but what if their roles were swapped? Food for thought :3

Tell me if you want to see more of this!

Next Part

[inbarfink]

One common Undertale misconception that really frustrates me is when Sans is portrayed with a strong innate sense for RESETs and alternative timelines. Like, that he remembers the RESET timelines better than the other characters who only have occasional feelings of deja vu or even that he can sense when a timeline is RESET.

And that’s, like, almost the opposite of the actual text of the game. While pretty much every main character can have slightly-different dialogue in a Not-True-RESET, especially if the Player had previously befriended them, based on the idea that they have lingering memories/feelings from before the RESET - 

Sans has no real dialogue changes based on this conceit. All of his changes are based around noticing Frisk has different reactions based on their memories of the precious timelines. 

Other characters do also make observations like that about Frisk, like Mettaton and Toriel. But Sans is distinctive because this is the only way his comments change between RESETs and there are a lot of them from him.

Because that is what really frustrates me about this misconception. People mention it as one more thing that makes Sans cool - but the actual truth is far more badass. Sans is one of the people in the Underground who remembers RESETs the least. I think memory-resistance to RESETs is probably tied to Determination. Flowey, the second-most Determined person in the Underground after Frisk, can remember everything perfectly.

Everyone else has some vague feelings and deja vus. And Sans, he’s the least motivated person in the Underground - both in the sense he’s lazy and in the sense he’s fucking depressed.

That probably means he has very little Determination. Thus, he doesn’t remember anything that happens between RESETs.

And yet, he is still the character most aware of them. Because he has the technological know-how to read and analyze timelines.

And because he has the observation and analytical skill to notice a RESET from other people’s reactions and behavior. Whatever it’s Papyrus thinking he recognizes someone or Frisk’s behavior implying that they know something they shouldn’t have. Sans main RESET-related skill is just being able to identify these moments and come to the correct conclusion about them. And with that he manages to be the most aware character in the entire Underground.

Like, the one point where it might seem like Sans remembers something from a previous Timeline is the Fake Spare scene during his boss battle. 

But it’s all pretend. Unlike the previous lines from other characters that I mentioned, this dialogue plays even if the Murder Route is the first time the player touched the game. Sans isn’t remembering anything in this scene. But he makes an educated guess that the Immoral Time God probably tried using their powers for good at first, so they were likely ‘friends’ in a previous timeline. And in most cases, his guess is right on the money - tricking many players into thinking this is another case of the game actually reacting to their past actions.

And as always, Sans can only tell if his lil’ trick worked or not based on the expression of the Player Character.

Arguably, Sans even uses his lack of Determination and cross-RESET memory to his advantage in his boss battle. After all, the whole point of this fight isn’t to kill the Player - Sans understands this is impossible. This is a war of attrition, trying to get the Player so frustrated and annoyed with the unfair fight that they just ragequit or RESET the Timeline. And this war of the Player’s patience versus Sans’ stamina and will is infinitely easier for him when he doesn’t actually perceive all the Player’s previous attempts against him.

Like, for the Player this might be the billion time they go up against him, they’re aware of some of his patterns and tricks now but they’re probably also frustrated and angry and exhausted. Meanwhile, from Sans’ POV, this is still the first time this is happening. He knows it’s not from the Player’s behavior and Frisk’s expression - but he doesn’t feel it like the Player does. 

He doesn’t feel the frustration and repetition of the endless stalemate. So he’s always as fresh as a daisy no matter how rugged the Player is getting.

And that’s part of why Sans is so cool in the first place, like, in general. He’s technically the weakest person in the Underground, lacking in every standard evaluation of power in the setting - no ATK, no DEF, no HP, no DETERMINATION. But he’s darn clever enough to overcome these weaknesses and even use them in ways that make them into strengths, enough to be one of the most dangerous and most aware guys in this whole setting.

Sans can’t remember anything, and that makes him awesome.

[zhongrin]

— a short and casual genshin impact otome game.

⟣ 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 ⟢

┊ (Windows 🪟, Linux 🐧, or Mac 🍎 only!)

◇ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬? ◇

Just a simple something I had in mind for a Genshin otome game... I have 0 attention span, 0 time, and 0 knowledge to write and build a full-fledged 3D game with intricate stories, plot, and mechanics. This is just a simple visual novel with a streamlined plot and partial voices. You should be able to complete everything in like... 30 minutes long in total. Might be less, even.

◇ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ◇

The game will contain the following: established relationship, FLUFF, comfort, lots of pet names, suggestive themes, lots of kissy sounds on some routes, implications of violence (not towards player), a sprinkle of protective behavior

◇ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ◇

Zhongli, Xiao, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Itto, Kazuha (Zhongli is selected by default because who doesn’t love geo daddy???)

◇ 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫? ◇

This is a very self-indulgent project, hence the dialogues were written with fem!player in mind. It will contain suggestive themes, so please be aware of that before downloading / playing!

◇ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲? ◇

Yes, it's totally free - in fact, I do not accept payment.

◇ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲? ◇

Click the link to download the appropriate file based on your OS. Only Windows, Linux, and Mac are supported. No, I won't release it on other platforms.

Open the game, and you’ll find that it’s pretty straightforward. Customize your profile, select your love interest, then start the game.

There are no wrong answers and the love interest can be changed anytime (just go back to main menu and select the character’s picture on the right side).

◇ 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬? ◇

You can personally send links to this post / the game’s itch.io page to your friends via DMs, but outside of that (reposting), NO. For example, posting about this on Reddit is prohibited.

◇ 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞? ◇

This is a super casual project.

Scripts are not proofread. Probably lots of grammar mistakes.

Novel format without narration (full dialogs).

There are no actual sprites, just official art and something akin to a speech bubble to cater to the characters’ changes in ‘expression’.

There are voices, but only partial - mostly just grunts, chuckles, kisses, and stuff. I’m using JP voices EXCEPT for Itto because Max Mittelman is a gem. No, I will not add other languages' voice versions.

Sound cues and voices are quite important for this game so I recommend using headphones.

Depending on when you open the game (morning, afternoon, nighttime, midnight), your currently selected love interest might greet you differently.

To reiterate, there are no wrong answers.

Selecting all talk/act options for a character will unlock a small event where they'll give you unique gifts.

I lowkey have so many ideas on how to expand on this in terms of gameplay and options but let’s be real here it probably won’t happen lol why can’t my brain be this creative when it comes to work

◇ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐮𝐬??? ◇

No... That said, anyone can literally say that. Please be responsible for your own actions.

I have also released other games on the same itch.io profile, so this isn't my first rodeo. Feel free to check the reviews on those before making your decision if you're wary about downloading!

◇ 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ◇

hyv please don't sue me i gain 0 dollars for this and i just wanna simp in peace

⟐ 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜 🄸 𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑.𝚒𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 🄸 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ⟐

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ do not repost or share without permission. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Chapter 105.5 Thoughts: Control, Manipulation and Partnership

Or, how Chuuya is actually the most qualified character to land a victory over Dostoevsky.

I just want to preface this with: I think Chuuya has woken from the brainwashing. We can't see his eyes, he's holding his hat again, and look at the progression of his face and expression from the last few chapters with him (these are in order btw from left to right).

I'm not completely sure how he did this, but I chalk a lot of it up to sheer stubborn determination on Chuuya's part, mostly because it's funny and he was clearly fighting back before Dazai's speech. However, I find it likely the speech did contain some kind of code - others have pointed out how "Goodbye!" might be a reference to the original author's last unfinished book and we know skk's codenames for things generally are based off their real counterparts' works so, maybe he'd already broken out of it, maybe there was something in there that gave him the final push - who knows at this point honestly? Either way, it means Chuuya had the capacity to break out of the vampire curse on his own and that's incredibly funny to me for many reasons but mostly:

Fyodor: "Bold of you to assume Chuuya's ability can't overcome flooding."

Dazai: "Bold of you to assume Chuuya's personality can't overcome brainwashing."

But really, this highlights something interesting here, both in what Chuuya's role is ultimately intended to be in this arc, and in the way Fyodor and Dazai manipulate and value others in very different ways.

I've said it before but it bears repeating: we already know that Fyodor is an excellent long-term planner, while Dazai is effectively able to counter him because Dazai shifts into thinking like his opponent. They're foil characters for a reason; they're both highly intelligent, manipulative, and willing to play the long game for the sake of winning against their opponent.

Thing is, I also stand by the idea that personality-wise, they're not similar at all - and that has serious implications for the people they are connected with. The build-up to the prison escape arc really highlights this. Some examples:

Chapter 46: Fyodor believes that all people are sinful and foolish and that his goal is to remove sin. Dazai believes that all people are sinful and foolish but asks what's so wrong with that.

Chapter 64: They decide to have a "super-happy chit-chat" about their problems. Dazai's solution to Fyodor's issue with his lazy subordinates is to get them to think lazing around is a bad thing so they will put in effort of their own. Fyodor's solution to Dazai being unable to woo the waitress is to isolate her from her job, house and family so that she can only rely on Dazai.

Chapter 77: Fyodor believes god is perfection and harmony, and thus that the people capable of change are the superior ones with most control. Dazai believes god is the accidental and illogical and believes it is the ordinary people who fight and live in that uncertainty who create the greatest change.

So, what's happening here? Fyodor's manipulation is shown to be very exacting and direct. He leaves no room for error and regards people on a hierarchy - God above all, himself as a servant of God's will, and the sinful and foolish humans he has little regard for. Dazai's manipulation involves manipulation of the situation, and is often indirect. It involves people coming to the conclusion he intends for them to on their own. And from his later dialogue with Sigma, we see he doesn't regard the world in that same kind of hierarchy.

Now, look at the way Fyodor picks an item and Dazai picks a person when starting the game. Look at the way Fyodor refers to Chuuya respectfully but brainwashes him entirely and mocks Dazai for not being worthy of "using" his ability. Look at the way Dazai is a complete ass to Chuuya but ultimately lets him make his own choices (begging people to take note of that moment in Stormbringer where Dazai cuts himself off to correct his referring to Corruption as Arahabaki's true power to Chuuya's true power).

So, the actual strength Dazai has over Dostoevsky then, is not really his strength at all, it's the strength of others and their choice and willpower to act in the way they believe is best. It's the only means of getting a leg up on Dostoevsky, otherwise they will continue to go around and around in circles forever.

And Chuuya is the best candidate for finally throwing Fyodor off his game.

Firstly, let's just establish something: no matter how mad he is at Dazai, he's not going to side with Fyodor, not willingly. Fyodor threatened the Mafia in the Cannibalism arc by attacking Mori, first of all. I doubt he's forgiven him for that. Secondly, Fyodor embodies everything Chuuya can't stand about Dazai, at the very least, younger Dazai - the manipulation, the lack of consideration and connection with others, the callousness and lack of regard for life.

Well, perhaps he's not quite as irritating. +1 point for Dostoevsky I guess?

But lastly, it is more advantageous for Chuuya at this point to help fight against Fyodor, especially since most of the Mafia has been vampirized by his organization. Helping the Agency stop the terrorist plot will help the Mafia by extension by undoing that. And we know from Stormbringer that no matter how much Chuuya is personally hurt, he considers taking out the threat to his people a higher priority. Always.

(You could make the argument that he was told whatever Teruko told Atsushi and decided to join, but not only do I find this wildly out of character, but if that was the case then there would've been no reason to brainwash him.)

That said, I don't think this was preemptive "Dazai's master plan #3057", and in fact, I stand by the idea that Dazai had no idea Chuuya was going to be in the prison. It is very, very important to me that for the rest of this arc, no matter what Chuuya does, that his actions are his own. Not Fyodor's, not Dazai's, but his. And not just because I hate that he's being controlled right now and that freedom of choice has always been important for Chuuya.

But because it makes narrative sense.

The vampires are a bit silly, yes, but they represent the way Fyodor and Fukuchi think - humanity will commit atrocities. They cannot be trusted to make their own decisions. They want to make a world that is free by... mind-controlling people so their plans work without a hitch. In short, they choose, on behalf of others, to sacrifice human autonomy for peace. So, if we are going to turn this arc around, we need to have characters breaking out of that control and thinking for themselves, in spite of the uncertainty of the outcome.

We already see this with Atsushi in the last chapter! He finally takes initiative and makes that choice to leave the room when he doesn't exactly know what the right thing to do is. And this is also why I don't think Teruko is wholly convinced by the DoA either - she lets him go. She gives him the freedom to choose what he does with that information.

Another one of the focus characters here is Sigma. Sigma is a guy who has no past, whose humanity is questioned, who keeps being used by organizations for his valuable ability, who has no home but desperately wants one... oh wait. Remind you of anyone's younger self? This could go one of two ways: Chuuya fails to assert his autonomy, leaving Sigma to learn from that failure, or, Chuuya succeeds in asserting his autonomy, leaving Sigma to learn from his success.

I think it, by necessity, has to be the latter. Sigma's at a tipping point right now, and I think seeing someone try to assert their freedom only to fail would damage him greatly. And I think it's a waste of Chuuya's character honestly.

Chuuya needs to assert his autonomy in this arc. Not just for thematic reasons but because I can think of no one else who can effectively break the "super-genius stalemate".

I keep hearing "Dazai knows Chuuya" in response to Fyodor calling their bond shallow, and that is absolutely true! But Chuuya also knows Dazai. Incredibly well. Odasaku knew Dazai's soul, but Chuuya knows Dazai's mind, knows his strategies and ways of thinking without even needing words. What's more, Chuuya has thrown off Dazai before and done what he didn't expect him to.

Which is nifty, because Dazai and Fyodor think a lot alike. Chuuya is in a unique position to thwart Dostoevsky because he may actually be able to predict him to a degree. Chuuya can absolutely land a victory against him, and it's excellent because it would be completely unexpected to Fyodor, who apparently thinks Chuuya's strength lies only in what his ability has to offer and not much else.

But listen. This also can't be skk's plan. I need Chuuya to sideline both of them. Both for the sweet, sweet catharsis of putting those two idiot geniuses in their places and also because I need Dazai to have screwed up. He wasn't wrong about people making their own choices in uncertainty. People need to assert their autonomy to create change. Dazai can't be wrong in this regard.

But with going ahead with the trap to drown Fyodor despite also having to drown Chuuya when he promised not to let him get killed... this needs to have been a mistake, otherwise the value of Dazai's emotional speech to him is diminished.

I want Dazai to try to laugh it off. I want him to say he always knew Chuuya would escape and then for Chuuya to deck him because "no, the fuck you didn't".

I really think Dazai hoped Chuuya would make it. Do remember that Chuuya was one of the first reasons young Dazai decided to try giving life a chance. The fact that he flashbacked to all his key memories with Chuuya says a lot. But his survival was no guarantee and it seemed very unlikely.

So, Chuuya is faced with the fact that Dazai nearly sacrificed him to kill Dostoevsky and save his new Agency friends.

And I hope he finally gets mad. I hope he finally expresses hurt on his own behalf for once. I hope they are forced to break their status quo that they have carefully maintained by not talking about anything ever. I hope they are pushed to uncomfortable places and that it is Chuuya who finally spurs this development.

Let Chuuya break the stalemate between Dazai and Dostoevsky. Let him shatter the status quo that him and Dazai have kept going for year after year.

Autonomous action in the face of uncertainty is necessary for change.

[schumachersricciardo]

Shiver

Chapter Four - Fathers Be Good to Your Daughters

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader

♡ TW: PLEASE READ BEFORE PROCEEDING!

This chapter contains descriptions of physical, emotional, AND mental abuse by a parent to their child. It contains descriptions of the aftermath of the physical abuse. It also contains scenarios where reader is verbally abused by a parent. If this is triggering for you, there will be a TLDR at the very end of the chapter. Please scroll down to the end of this page if you want to know what this chapter is about, but not read it in its entirety.

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, not proofread, anxiety and panic, crying, alcohol consumption, a mention of throwing up (but not graphically or anything), allusions to a smutty situation, mentions of female anatomy, making out (??), angst, hurt/comfort, physical/mental/emotional/verbal abuse - read above.

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :) 

♡ About 12.3k words, lmao. Oops

♡ A/N: For one, this chapter was so emotional and personal for me to write. I'm very happy with the way that it turned out, as it took me about two days to complete it! It's quite a long chapter, so please take breaks if you need to. Thanks again for being so nice to me, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, this chapter is not in chronological order of events. I based the sections on what lyrics are put and what I thought would go well with them.

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU DECIDE TO READ OR NOT READ!

If you or anyone you know is a victim of abuse, please do not hesitate to call the provided numbers after clicking any of the links at the bottom of this page.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

based on the song lover of the light by mumford and sons 

“Stretch out my life and pick the seams out

Take what you like, but close my ears and eyes

Watch me stumble over and over” 

Mick knew from a very early age that having solid friendships was something very important to have in order to build a strong foundation in life. He saw that modeled so dearly by his father, and all the friendships he had made over the years. His older sister had great friends who treated Mick with nothing but respect… And some pranks. And his mother (besides the envied relationship she had with his father, her husband) always stressed that having good, pure of heart friendships would take you further in life than anything else. 

And for the first time in his life, Mick felt that warmth and joy with you just weeks after you had moved to Germany. Your friendship bloomed quickly and tightly, as you two seemingly became inseparable. It was a rare sight seeing one of you, without the other at school. Everyone could notice the shift in momentum when you were absent and Mick was left confused as to what to get to lunch that day. And vice versa, when he’d be gone - you’d be often found wandering around the school’s library not actually picking out a book, at every recess you had. 

But Mick as bad at math as he was, was more acutely aware of any signs of emotional or mental change in you than one would believe. He could see it in your expressions and body language if you were going through something at home. Your nose would scrunch more and you’d have more difficulty doing simply math problems than usual. You made it a point to never chew on your pencils or straws, but if you were particularly stressed… You could easily bite through the stick of lead or plastic. Mick knew this and he recognized it more as your friendship grew. Most of the time, you’d reassure him with the exact smile he fell in love with and most of the time he’d take your word for it. 

Except the day he didn’t and refused to let up when he could tell it was more than just stress. 

“It’s fine, Mickey, just drop it.” 

“I will not drop this, Smidge!” Mick was now chasing his best friend down as she stormed out of his room. 

“Leave it alone, ugh!” You spat back, as you opened the back door and tried to create some space between you and the blond boy. You took your hair out its ponytail holder in frustration, trying to make that antsy feeling going away by running furious hands through your hair. 

“Smidge, I swear, if you do not tell me what is going on right now-“ 

“Oh, you swear?” You turned on your heel in anger and gestured towards whatever imaginary thing you were gesturing as you huffed. “You swear you’re going to do something about it? Huh? Fuck off, Mick!” 

Mick let out a scoff, which kind of turned into a laugh? He was laughing now? You rolled your eyes and turn your back on him once again. You had plopped yourself on the lawn, looking out at the vast city line in front of you. You began to pick at the grass below you, your hands needing something to fiddled with to try and center your anxiety. You took a deep breath. Mick could see from behind the way your shoulders rose, and shakily fell. He knew you were trying not to cry. And of course he never wanted to see you cry, but part of him wishes you did. He knew it would probably make you feel better… But to be honest, the last time he could remember you crying in front of him was when you fell off your scooter just a few meters from the very house you were constantly visiting. Mick tried to shake that happy thought out of his mind, because he didn’t want to ruin it. 

“Smidge… Please, I know there is something bothering you, and I promise I will not tell anybody else… But you know I hate it when I cannot help you.” Mick spoke softly as he took a seat beside you. You avoided eye contact. 

Mick was trying to decipher what your facial expression was like, but your hair had fallen and was covering the view. He took a deep breath and reached his hand over to yours. Grabbing your fingers delicately, while also trying to get you to stop pulling out the grass, he gave your hand a squeeze. You squeezed back gently and still without making eye contact, you scooted closer to him. You leaned against him, your head on his shoulder. He adjusted as needed, his right arm placed behind him so he could support the both of you.

You always found comfort and safety tucked underneath him. And you knew that you two would be sharing a blanket and watching a movie in no time. But that fleeting thought only gave you a second of relief. The two of you remained in silence as you listened to the rustling of the wind as it danced with the leaves and branches. You could hear birds chirping in the distance and you could practically cut the calmness of the world around you with a knife. This is where you wanted to be. You never wanted to leave this spot, but life was never that kind and soon enough, reality pulled you back in as Mick’s humming brought you and your daydreaming to a halt. 

“I didn’t do well on my last math exam.” You stated. 

Mick stopped humming. He was trying to figure out why that of all things had you so upset. He didn’t comment though

“I got a B- or something…” You sighed. “I studied and I studied… But I only got a B-… It was humiliating.” 

“I am sorry about that, Smidge. I know how much you value getting good grades.” Mick finally responded. His tone was… trying to be supportive, but he really didn’t understand why getting a B- in math was so devastating. He would LOVE to get that grade on a math exam, even after studying. 

“I don’t care about getting good grades, Mickey.” You retorted quicker than you probably should have. You stiffened your posture and moved away from him. Your heart rate was picking up and you were getting nervous. Mick noticed. He noticed everything when it came to you. 

The blue eyed boy wasn’t sure what came over him next, but as you sat now sort of in front of him, he guided his hand up to your face and moved your hair out of the way. He tucked in what he could behind your ear, a few pieces falling still. You looked up at him and he could finally see… and feel just how distraught you were. 

“He cares that I get good grades.” You finally croaked out. 

Mick’s facial expressions now were the confusing ones. At first he was relieved you told him. The next second he was confused as to why that was the reason you were upset…. And the third was panic. And he’d never admit this to you, but if it were because of some guy at your school making fun of you for something like that… Oh he’d have some words with that person. 

“Oh… Ehmmm… Oh…” Mick pressed his lips together in confusion. You could see the gears moving in his head as he tried to figure out who you were talking about. 

“My dad.” You finally cut him off. He looked as though he was about to give himself an aneurysm if you didn't stop him from thinking so hard. 

“Oh.” 

Now, Mick has always had his suspicions about your home life. For instance, when you didn’t come to class one day when you two were younger, the teacher had made a comment about if he knew about your home life or not. He then went to his father and asked advice. He let it go for the time being, because you really weren’t absent a lot, but he made sure make a mental note for later. Seemingly, you had a pretty decent home life. You got along with your older brother, and you always said your mom was one of your best friends. Albeit, you never spoke much about your father. He was in the military and pretty high up in command. His job was very ‘hush hush,’ so even you, his daughter had limited if information on what he actually did as well. You always spoke about him with respect though, and never making it seem like there was anything going on at your house. 

But Mick… Mick was sorely mistaken. You were wearing a zip up jacket which wasn’t uncommon, but Mick did think it was a bit warm for it. He never would dream on commenting on what you were wearing though. Slowly, you peeled the jacket off of you and as slowly as you did, was as slowly as he could process what was in front of him.  

Your arms were littered with bruises. Not just bruises, fingerprints. Someone was pressing into your skin, your precious beautiful skin so hard that they left their fingerprints. Mick blinked quickly, trying to see if his brain was playing tricks on him. Soon enough, you took off your shirt as well. Mick didn’t even care to notice you in your sports bra. But there were even more bruises on your skin that you had been covering for some time now. Based on the yellowing on the biggest one near your ribs on your left side… You had gotten hurt a while ago. Yet, there were bruises on your back and your chest that indicated they were fairly new. Mick felt like his heart was going to explode and his brain was going to go with it. 

You allowed him to look at you - to process the information presented. You thought that showing instead of telling would be more effective, anyway. Moments later, you put your shirt back on and sighed. And if you weren’t sat in the middle of Mick’s backyard, you’d shed your leggings too to show the damage there.

Mick shakily breathed out your name, which he never called you. He always called you Smidge or Liebling - never your real name. He himself felt tears brimming in his eyes as he watched you put your shirt back on and throw your hair back into a ponytail. It was as though the visual he was getting was completely different from the mental images he was receiving. He couldn’t catch up and he just did not know what to do. 

“How long?”

Mick finally gained composure and demanded to know more. His tone was serious, short. He was never this… Cold with you? You could tell he was absolutely fuming too. The tips of his ears were turning red as his jaw pulsated with every clench of it. Now he was the one unconsciously grabbing clumps of grass and ripping them to shreds. 

“What???” You tilted your head. 

“How. Long. Has. He. Been. Beating. You.” The angrier he got the more German he got too. His accent was quite thick as he stood to his feet and began pacing. It was never a good sign when he would pace. His fists were wound up in tight balls, knuckles pale white with tension, as he thought of every scenario in which he could kill your father, and get away with it. 

“Mickey-“ 

“No, don’t you dare ‘Mickey’ me right now! How long has he been beating you up?” Mick cut you off and rushed towards you. He was just inches from you now. 

You knew he was angry, irate even. And you knew he’d never hurt you, and that this anger was not directed towards you. But on instinct, you backed up as your breath caught in your chest. 

Mick shook his head, running his hands through his hair. He knew his parents would be home soon and he knew if they saw how angry he was… They’d have questions, and he could never lie to them… Which means they’d figure out exactly what was going on with you… Which meant… Well, war. 

You took another deep breath and bravely closed the gap between you. You had never felt anything like you had before Mick. You had never had a boyfriend, nor any friends that even came close to the security you felt with him. You reached up and caressed his cheek, his face leaning into the palm of your hand. You almost never initiated physical touch besides leaning on him. But he always welcomed it no matter how limited it would be. He closed his eyes and grabbed your hand in his, the both of them interlocking as he nuzzled into your hand farther. 

“I…I can’t remember how long, Mickey. I can’t remember how long it’s been since it started.” 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“I have done wrong, you build your tower

But call me home and I will build a throne

And wash my eyes out never again”

There were rare occasions that you and Mick were not together, but he was handsome and simply because of his surname, was like catnip to ladies. While you were still in Formula Three, Mick had graduated to Formula Two. Even so, having his last name meant he was probably getting more invites than the average person. 

But come on, no one is average in Monaco. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” 

“Yeah, you too!” 

Women’s bathrooms at parties and clubs were something else. There was no caste system in place and if you needed to cry about your ex or needed to puke your brains out before Gasolina came on (but who wouldn’t), a women’s bathroom at a club felt like the safest place to do those things. 

“You’re with Shoemaker, right?” The very clearly drunk girl beside you yells in your face. Sure, you were also drunk… But why was she yelling? 

“Schumacher.” You corrected. 

“Yeah!! He has blond hair and is super hot? Yeah, dude, my friend was hardcore hitting on him and getting the vibe from him…” The girl beside you held in a burp… Or maybe she just was just not trying to puke in her mouth. 

“Sure, he’s handsome.” You finally answered. You just wanted to get some water. 

“Oooookay, well I th-think my girl is going to try and make a move on your friend,” The drunk girl slurred as she was trying to get the cap of her lipgloss separated from the tube of the glossy pink liquid. “I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything between you guys!” 

The girl began applying her lipstick as you tried to process what she was saying through your own drunken state. Finally, it all came together and you turned your head to face her. 

“You hunted me down just to ask me if your friend has permission to sleep with Mick?” You tried to sound as sober as possible. 

The girl shrugged her shoulders and shot a quick smile to you as she gathered her purse. 

“W-Well, you guys are always together! She just wanted to make s-sure you weren’t a thing.” You nodded as she finished speaking and primping her hair. 

And maybe it was because you were drunk, the emotion of jealousy arose in you. Luckily, your cheeks were already flush from the shots of tequila you consumed earlier. You were sure Mick always had girls trying to hit on him and maybe they were successful in doing so. Mick was an adult and as long as they were consenting adults too, what’s the harm in him having a little bit of fun? 

What’s the harm, right? 

“No, Mickey and I are not a thing. So, uh, tell your friend to not worry about - not to worry about me.” You finally responded as you blotted a cold and wet paper towel on your face. The girl grinned and blew a kiss in your general direction, soon then stumbling out of the bathroom just as clumsily as she had stumbled into it.

You took a few deep breaths and looked down at your phone screen. The letters were moving on the screen as you tried to focus your eyes long enough to reach the Uber app. You didn’t know why you wanted to leave all of a sudden. Consciously, you knew Mick had his pick of women and probably picked from them when he wanted to. Yet again the giant green monster clung to your chest as if it was part of your beating heart. Sloppily typing your location into Uber, you managed to click ‘Order.’ 

Your driver is 13 minutes away. 

You took one last look at the bathroom sink making sure that at the very least you had your wallet and hotel key card. Nodding to yourself, you made your way out of the bathroom and back into the sea of sweaty bodies and blasting music. The exit sign was aglow about 50 yards in front of you??? No - that can’t be right. 50 feet? 50… Dancing bodies? And as you did your best to toddle over to the exit, you finally managed to get out the door. 

The crisp, cool air was a refreshing touch after being in a crowded club for hours now. Frankly, you didn’t like going out to clubs, but Mick did and any chance to score some free tequila was always a win in your book. You leaned up against the wall beside the club closing your eyes. 

“Smidge? Was machst du hier draußen (What are you doing out here)?” A familiar voice, a very hoarse one at that brought you out of your drunken mini nap as you pried your dry eyes open to see who that was.

“Sie sollten nicht alleine draußen sein (You should not be outside by yourself).” 

Mick’s usual perfectly coiffed hair was messily atop his head as his porcelain cheeks were red with the heat of the club and many shots of jäger he did. He wore a simple dark blue button up and black jeans. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows lazily matching the state of his hair. You smiled at the boy in front of you and eyed his hair up and down. 

“I’m going home, Mickey. Well, not home-home.” You shrugged shoving your phone in his face. He backed up and his eyes squinted at the screen. 

Your driver is 8 minutes away. 

“Alright, Smidge.” Mick took a lean against the same wall just next to you. 

Your shoulders were barely touching when you could feel his fingers try and find yours as your arms were at your side. Your heartbeat began to pick up as your hand finally found his. And it wasn’t a full hand hold… Yet this felt much more intimate. Barely interlocking fingertips, he hummed softly to himself as he looked up at the night sky. 

“How did you even know I was out here? I thought you were getting hot and heavy with some chick somewhere.” 

Mick let out a breathy laugh. He shook his head in disbelief and smiled widely. 

“Hot and heavy?” He repeated in jest. 

“Shut up.” 

You rolled your eyes and tried your best not to look at him. You knew he was staring at you with those eyes and you also know you turn into a puddle when you look into them… especially when drunk. 

“But no, I was not getting hot and heavy with that chick somewhere.” Mick finally spoke. “I’ll always find you, Smidge. Ihre Sicherheit steht für mich an erster Stelle (Your safety is my number one concern).” 

“Ich bin erwachsen (I’m an adult).” You groaned looking at your phone screen. 

Your driver is 4 minutes away. 

The two of you stood again in silence as you still waited for your driver to arrive. Mick hummed to himself and suddenly, was kneeling on the ground. You looked down in utter confusion as he began to undo the clasps to your heels. He didn’t say a word as he managed to effortlessly undo both shoes of yours… And you were honestly impressed because you thought he was way more drunk than you. Taking something out of his own crossbody bag, he opened a tiny case and handed you some flats. You had told him a while ago about these ballet flats you saw on the internet that easily folded up for ease of access. You didn’t think he was paying attention, but there he was as he slipped the flats onto your feet and grabbed your heels. 

You were frozen in stance. He was acting so casually as he looked down the road for the driver. Your heels were in his one hand while the other reached behind him for your hand. Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his and walked over to the curb. 

“I think I see our driver.” 

“Our driver?” 

Your best friend and you exchanged equally as confused expressions. Mick’s expression was that of offense and disbelief, while yours was of perplexity and unsureness. 

“Well, yeah. I am not about to send you back to your hotel room in the middle of the night in Monaco - alone.” Mick stressed and stretched out the last word as if it were supposed to be something completely obvious to you. 

“Again though, I am an adult, Schumacher.” 

Soon enough, the Uber driver pulled up to the curb and rolled down his driver’s window. The driver asked you for your name and as you recited your first and last name for some odd fucking reason, Mick opened the back door for you and ushered for you to get into the car. You eyed him carefully trying to decode his actions. Sliding into the car and putting your seat belt on, you were surprised when Mick also slid into the car. 

“Can I change the address of the Uber? I will pay whatever you need to do so.” Mick chirped as he leaned towards the driver. 

Your best friend and the driver exchanged the how’s of it all, and finally the car began to drive away from the still busy club scene. 

“Why did you give him your address?” You whispered. You could feel the alcohol still inside yourself, swimming in your veins. 

“Alone. Hotel room. Alone. Monaco. Alone-“

It was as though Mick was reciting the Winter Soldier’s trigger words. He spewed off the reasons and tried to also go through the whole ‘Concern for your safety,’ lecture one more time, this time with more emphasis. And truly, you didn’t know what came over you - or maybe you did and maybe those tequila shots were in fact a terrible idea - but as he was ranting and raving about the streets of Monaco and how (and this was very true) unsafe it was to be a woman alone at this time of night, you leaned over and cut him off with a press of your lips to his. 

Mick’s hands found your waist as you had your hands on either side of his face. You had to remind yourself that you were still in the back of the Uber. Pulling away, you could see how glassy his eyes were, yet still filled with the same affectionate expression he always had towards you. Cuddling and tucking yourself into his side, you could hear him humming as he draped a hand over you. 

“Thanks, and sorry for the confusion earlier.” Mick gave the driver an extra cash tip before the two of you made it to his condominium. 

Mick drunkenly fumbled with his keys with one hand while holding yours with his other hand. You tried to pry your hand from his so he could have an easier way of unlocking his front door, but the grip he had on you said otherwise. 

“If I can have a super license… I can open the door with one hand, Smidge.” The front door finally swung open after what felt like an eternity.  

The two of you shed your shoes and as he plopped your heels down on the counter and washed his hands, you managed to find some food in his fridge. 

“I’m drunker than I thought…” Mick mumbled as he came up behind you, his arms wrapping around you. You ever so slight leaned your head back so your the sides of your heads were touching. 

And as you both looked at the inside of the fridge, not wanting to move, you could only turn around to face the boy. You put your arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his forehead. The intimate act was not lost on Mick, either. And this time his hum sounded differently than usual as he closed his eyes, holding you tightly to his body. 

Finally as you two peeled apart, you grabbed a few beers and some leftover pizza, turning on your heel. Mick followed you as you navigated your way into his room. Well, he’d also just follow you anywhere, but as you entered his room, he could swear he was dreaming. 

Mick helped you put the food and beer down and told you he was just going to changed into sweats as he disappeared into his bathroom. At the same time, you rummaged through his closet and drawers to find clothes. You dawned one of his old Ferrari shirts and some shorts you found that actually fit you.

After you both had changed, you got comfortable and sat on his bed criss cross waiting for him to come back. Mick was in his bathroom, his sweats already on, but his mind racing a mile a minute. 

You both were way too drunk (even if it didn’t seem like it) to take things anything further, but for some reason tonight the ambience was much different - more intimate. It was the feeling he so desperately longed for you to feel as well. He’d never force you or guilt you into feeling the way he always has for you, but he was just happy to be able to be there for you when you reciprocated. 

Even if it was just for one night… Mick kept repeating in his head as he splashed his face with water. 

Mick exited the bathroom and smiled softly at the sight in front of him. You were absolutely glowing and the fact that you were wearing his clothes was even better. This was the life he wanted with you, and he knew he’d wait an eternity to earn it. And in any lifetime, he would want to find you, he knew that much to be true. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Skin too tight and eyes like marbles

You spin me high, so watch me as I glide

Before I tumble homeward, homeward”

Mick was absolutely dominating Formula Two, just as he did in Formula Three. So there you were visiting Mick the day before free practice was going to start in Silverstone. 

He knew that your mother had just been diagnosed with cancer and that your time was vastly being taken up by transporting her from place to place when you could. Mick would always offer to help, but you didn’t want him to get involved in your family drama… Well, with your father. 

“I think you’re going to do great things tomorrow, Mickey.” You smiled widely as you went to reach for something in the cupboard above you. The two of you were at his hotel room as he relaxed after a hard day of training and sim driving. 

“You always say that, Smidge.” Mick peered over his shoulder to you, his eyes half focused on the video game’s loading screen in front of him. 

The sound of dishes breaking quickly pulled him out of his half trance. He was on his feet and over to you as fast as Edward stopped that van crashing into Bella. 

Your hand had been cut by the falling and breaking glass, the blood slowly beginning to pour out of the wound. You were praying you didn’t have to get stitches. 

Mick responded hastily, grabbing the nearest dish towel and wrapping your hand with it. Pressure. Pressure. Pressure. He repeated in the back of his head as he pressed gently to your palm. 

“I could have helped you, Smidge.” Mick broke the silence as you winced at his touch. As he helped you to your feet, he guided your hand under the now streaming water. 

“I’m a big girl, Mickey.” You retorted, clearly aware that you were contradicting yourself as he washed your wound of any passing infections. 

He just hummed in response as he shut the water off and examined your hand. He repeated that he thinks you didn’t need stitches, and that he would return shortly the first aid kit. True to his word, he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch. It was as if he knew exactly what you were thinking too, the way his touch was almost nonexistent because it was so soft as he bandaged your hand. Oddly though, you cowered in pain as he moved your arm to the side. It was an unseemly way of moving it, too as Mick tried to see if the bandage was tight enough on the side of the hand he couldn’t see. 

Mick cocked his head to the side and stared at you with one look: That better not have been because of what I fucking think it is. 

You hesitated being the one to break the looming silence between you two now, but you thought if you didn’t he’d say it aloud - and to have someone else say it aloud was sometimes worse than you admitting it. 

“It’s not what you-“ 

“Show me.” Mick cut you off, his deepening blue eyes piercing the air with every hyperbole you could think of. 

“Mickey, it’s really nothing. You just moved my arm a weird way, I’m okay.” 

“Show. Me. Now.” 

And as you always do what you’re told, you lifted your shirt slightly and before you could even take it off, Mick was stood on his feet and typing something into his phone. He didn’t utter a word to you for the next several minutes, he was just typing furiously on his phone. You had put your shirt back on and remained silent and sat on the hotel’s couch. You knew there was no stopping whatever he was doing. 

“I have to finalize it, but you are to have security now. One guard, or eighteen, I do not care - You are no longer going to be alone.” 

“Mick, I can’t have a security guard. I don’t even want one.” You took a deep breath and exhaled. 

“I do not fucking care! I don’t! I really do not fucking care.” Mick had slammed his phone down on the counter making you flinch. 

Fuck. And as he watched you carefully, you began to sob for only the third time in your entire friendship. Mick cursed himself in all the languages he knew as he approached you with trepidation. Sitting beside you, he began to mutter apology after apology, also in every language he could muster up in that moment. Mumbling again to himself, he grabbed the blanket off of the back of the couch  and wrapped you both in it. You were still crying as you tucked yourself safely into his side. You felt badly for staining his shirt. 

“Ich weiß nicht, was ich tun soll (I don’t know what to do).” You spoke in a whisper as you gripped onto his shirt with dear life. 

And frankly, maybe his way was a bit extreme, but he only had one train of thought as he hummed between the two of you, his arm tightening around you. 

Take you far away from him and bring her home to you, Schumacher. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“I know I tried, I was not stable

Flawed by pride, I miss my sanguine eyes

So hold my hands up, breathe in and breathe out”

As school children, it seemed like the two of you were inseparable. There were weekends where you didn’t see him, of course, but you’d always get to talk on the phone after his karting events. You truly appreciated the way his family opened up their home and arms to you, as well. You really didn’t know how much they knew about your own home life, but it was something to be said that they never invaded your privacy. 

Mick had finished second in his karting race, which wasn’t the result he obviously was vying for, but it was amazing nonetheless. As his family made their way back to the hotel room, he got cleaned up and made his way over to the tiny kitchen. 

“Has she called yet?” Mick’s small voice interrupted his mother’s train of thought. 

“No, baby. But I will let you know when she does; I always do.” Mick’s mother reassured him as he frowned and walked towards the tv area of the hotel room. 

Mick’s mother sighed and watched her son sulk on over to the couch. She knew how much he cared for you, and even as young as he was, she also knew he loved you. He might have not known it was love at the time, but she knew all the signs of it and he exhibited every single one of them. She put away whatever she was working on, and made her way over to the couch. She sat beside her son and grabbed his hand reassuringly. 

“Is there something wrong, Sohn (son)?” 

“She never is this late to call me, Mama…” He quietly uttered. “I think there is something wrong.” 

While his mother pressed for more information he truly didn’t have, he tried his best to vocalize all the things he noticed about you that were not typical. His mother began piecing the tiny bits of information he was giving to her together and all she could was sigh. She couldn’t have fathomed what you were going through at home and maybe Mick didn’t realize the signs as he listed them off for her, but she sure did. Part of her wanted to do something about too, right then and there… But it wasn’t totally her place either. She didn’t know the severity of the situation or if Mick was retelling things as correctly as a young boy could. All she could do was put it in the back of her head and make note of it. 

A few hours later, Mick’s mother entered the room where Mick was relaxing on the full sized bed. He was playing some game on his Gameboy, his tongue slightly hanging out in pure concentration. She cleared her throat and handed him her phone. It took him a second to register what was happening, but as soon as it clicked he put his Gameboy down and grabbed the phone excitedly. Mick’s mother couldn’t help but smile as she left her son to his own devices. 

“Smidge! Finally, you call. I have been waiting all afternoon for you to call!” Mick was energized now as he set up on his bed. He could hear you shuffling around, presumably trying to find a place to sit. 

“I’m sorry I’m late.” 

Now, Mick was around a lot of loud karts and when he’d go to his dad’s races, those were even louder. Was his hearing as bad as it was at his age or were you being abnormally quiet? 

“Smidge? I can barely hear you! You have got to learn to speak up on the phone.” 

Again, you said something but he could barely understand it. He tried to push you to speak louder as he pressed the phone to his ear as closely as he humanely could. 

“Es tut mir… Leid. Ich… verstecke… mich und muss… flüstern… (I’m sorry. I’m hiding and I have to whisper).” You finally sputtered out in broken German. 

Mick’s eyes widened as he finally understood what you were telling him. He didn’t care if you spoke an entirely different language, he would do anything he could to understand you. 

“Vor wem versteckst du dich (Who are you hiding from)?” Mick was fully sat up, his legs dangling off the side of the bed now as he was on alert. It took you another few moments to gain enough bravery to speak. 

“I’m hiding from-“ 

Suddenly, you were cut off by a booming voice. The voice was deep and loud enough that Mick could hear it over the phone. He pulled the phone away from his ear as he tried not to be afraid. The voice on the other line was muddled, but Mick picked up a few things here and there. 

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THE PHONE?” 

“NO, YOU LISTEN TO ME, GIRL!” 

“I’m sorry, dad! I’m sorry, please!” Your voice was frantic as you defended yourself to the best of your ability. 

Mick was rushing now to where his mom sat on that same couch. He gestured for her to put it on speaker and listen too. Mick’s mother’s expression fell as she listened to absolute abuse you were going through and she knew right then and there, it would be something she would have to do something about. 

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up, you stupid little girl!” 

“Daddy, please-“ 

And then the line went dead, with the sound of your phone being crushed - stepped on in brute force. 

Your voice was so tiny as you shrunk into yourself. You had no intention of allowing the Schumacher’s to hear that part of your life. You were deeply worried that they were going to try and intervene now and make matters… worse? You had a million thoughts going a million miles a minute. 

But just as fast as those thoughts raced through your mind, was just as fast as your father stepped the phone. Mick knew you would deny everything, or at least tell him that your father was just exceptionally upset that day. He knew you’d come up with any and every excuse to protect the very man who was supposed to be protecting you. Mick couldn’t comprehend any of it. But he knew he would be there for you to make sure when you were ready, and you let your guilt be washed away… That he would make certain you never hurt again. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“And in the middle of the night, I may watch you go

There'll be no value in the strength of walls that I have grown

There'll be no comfort in the shade of the shadows thrown

You may not trust the promises of the change I'll show

But I'd be yours if you'd be mine”

Mick and the rest of his family were on a short summer break in Australia. He offered for you to join him as he always wants you by his side, but due to your mother’s declining health you had to refuse. Of course he understood, but he was still disappointed. He remembered distinctly you telling him that Australia was one of your favorite places and that you wish you could move there one day. 

And it being summer in Australia, the sun was sweltering and Mick was trying not to get sunburnt as he sat under the tree near the lake where his family was staying. There was an old bench swing attached to the large branches above it. Mick debated the stability of the swing and the branches, but eventually gave in and sat on it. Gently swinging back and forth, he took in the scenery and the sight of the beautiful vast lake in front of him. 

He missed you. And sure he missed all his other friends, but you weren’t just anybody else. He missed you. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and searched for your name. Opening up the text message thread between you two, he began to type. 

Smidgen ❤️: Smiiiiiiiidge, i misssssssss you!! 

You were at your mother’s house, trying to spend as much time with her as you could. She was taking a nap in the recliner beside you when you heard your phone ding. 

You: Mickey, you sound drunk. Are you drunk? You know you’re not supposed to text people when you’re inebriated 😅

Mickey 🐭:  Never! But I am not drunk, I just miss you. 

You: Mick, you always miss me. How is Aussie? 

Mickey 🐭: Boring without you.

You: As are most things. I’m sorry I couldn’t join you this year. 

On the other side of the world, Mick sighed as you two continued to text. He loved his family and he loved his off time, but a deep seated part of him that had been growing and growing over so many years worried about you being by yourself. What if something were to happen and he was three continents away from you? What if he couldn’t protect you? You had always tried to reassure him that you could take care of yourself when he would be away, and that typically when you were at your mother’s house, you in fact were left undisturbed. 

He knew this. But he didn’t care for it nonetheless. 

Another two weeks went by on his vacation and as he tried to keep busy with various adventurous activities, the image of your smile and the sound of laughter filled his brain as if it they were always meant to be there, resting neatly in the crevices of his mind. 

There was only about a week and a half left before he got to go back home to Germany. Mick was sprawled out on his bed, listening to some music. Soon, the sound of the doorbell ringing caught his attention. He was the only one currently home, so he annoyingly turned his music off and got up to go see what the fuss was about. Upon opening the door he was stopped in his tracks. He practically had to scoop his jaw off of the floor. 

“Smidge? Do my eyes deceive me?” You shook your head with a grin. 

Mick engulfed you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground and peppering your face with kisses. He was always very affectionate with you. He brought you inside and gathered his breath back into his lungs. You had a duffel bag and a backpack with you that you managed to set down finally after the long awaited reunion was over. Looking around the house that was clearly lived in, you turned back to your best friend. He was grinning one of the biggest grins you had ever seen on his face while he grabbed two water bottles. Opening yours for you, he handed you the bottle and waited for you to sip it. 

“I cannot believe you are here! I think this is the happiest I have ever been.” 

“I can see that!” You laughed along with him as you took a few more sips of water. You sighed happily as you put the cap back on the bottle. “Is there a place I can put my stuff?” 

Mick nodded with elation as he grabbed your two bags. Gesturing with his head, he motioned for you to go towards his room. You opened the door and saw that the bed was made and it was fairly clean. It was almost as if he knew you would come here. Mick set down the bags and awaited for you to finish your scan of the room. You turned around and didn’t realize how closely he was standing behind you, as you collided with his body. He used his hands to steady you and definitely took the opportunity to bring you into another hug. The smell of his cologne was familiar; safe. You nuzzled into his chest as his arm found solace wrapped around your body. 

He didn’t know why you were here, and he really didn’t care, but he also knew that there was probably a good reason. It had to have been a good reason if you left your mother with her home care nurse, instead of… 

Suddenly, Mick braced for the worst. 

“Mick… Mick, you’re squeezing me too tightly.” You croaked out trying to unravel yourself from him. Immediately, he loosened his grip on you and smiled slightly. 

“Sorry, Smidge. I just missed you a lot.” The two of you made your way to his bed and laid down on it together. 

You easily found your way to the side of him and nestled in comfortably while he rested his head on top of yours. 

“As glad as I am that you are here… Is your mother…?” Mick awkwardly tried to start a conversation. He needed to know one way or the other. 

“She’s alive, Mick. She’s alive.” 

The blond boy sighed a sigh of relief, pulling you even closer to him. He could feel his body relax and his body temperature increase when you would cuddle him. He didn’t respond to you, only hummed in consolation. 

It had happened before in Monaco, the overwhelming feeling that you needed more from him. He didn’t pry further as to why you were there, and maybe that was a big reason as to why you were feeling pulled to him. For once, he didn’t press you to explain yourself or question why you bought a plane ticket all the way to Australia when your mother was as sick as she was. He simply was there to be there, and that meant more to you than anything at that moment. 

You climbed on top of him, your bodies finding their ways around each other. Your legs were on either side of him as you sat on his torso. His hands found your hips, his eyes finding yours. And as glanced down at the boy below you, you wondered to yourself if this was always how it was supposed to be between the two of you. Leaning down and closing the gap between you, you again pressed your lips against his. 

It was more fervent this time though. The catastrophic and carnal need to feel his hands roam your body and his lips claim yours as his overwhelmed your senses as your body melted into his. He was vigilant as he explored your body with his hands, making sure he wasn’t hurting you. You had to take a breath between the multiple shows of endearments between the two of you. His eyes were glued to you as you sat back up on his torso. Peeling your shirt off, you tossed it somewhere. Mick just watched in adoration as you removed your bra as well. He looked at your body on top of his as though you were sculpted by DaVinci himself. And by all accounts, you were.  

You blushed at the attention he was giving you, only to remove yourself from sitting on top of him. He frowned and wondered if he did anything wrong. But before he could begin mentally listing things he could have done wrong, you tugged on his own shirt. He sat up and reached his hands back behind his head. 

“Can I?” You interjected quickly your eyes filled with curiosity.

Mick just smiled and nodded. He let his shirt fall again and waited for you to approach him. You scooted closer to him and took a deep breath in and released. Sure, you had seen him shirtless countless amounts of times, but this was much, much different. You didn’t mind it. 

Your fingers found the hem of his shirt and with a trying motion, you began to pull the shirt over his head. He assisted you a bit, his broad shoulders getting in the way of you being able to pull the shirt completely over his head. Your fingers began to dance down his chest, the circles and trails they were leaving behind was a feeling Mick would never forget. Still sitting up, you climb into his lap and had your legs on either side of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently tugged at the hair on the nape of it. Again, with a hunger and desperation you had never felt before your lips crashed into his and his hands found your hair in a hurried attempt to get as close to you as possible. 

He never wanted to let go of you and the feeling that came with this. He had loved you for so long. And to have you here, in his bed, making it known that maybe… just maybe you loved him too… He didn’t want to wake up tomorrow morning. He didn’t want it to be a dream. 

“Bist du sicher (Are you sure?)” Mick finally breathed out in between sloppy kisses. You gleamed at him, your lips swollen with fervor. Biting your bottom lip, you nodded. “I need words, schätzen. I need you to say-“ 

“Yes. I’m sure, Schumacher.” 

Mick pulled you in again, his lips finding your neck as he peppered it with kisses, sucking ever so prudently as he made his way up and down the soft skin of your neck. 

You didn’t know what would come after this, after everything was said and done… But for now and just for now, you wanted to be his just as much as he wanted to be yours. 

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current day 

“So love the one you hold

And I will be your goal

To have and to hold

A lover of the light” 

It had to remain to be seen how long Hamilton was going be out of the season. He was going through some personal issues and while you knew Silverstone was going to be your first race, you didn’t expect to have to race before that. And of fucking course your first race is Monaco. You were busy training and preparing for the course, trying your best to keep a strong head on your shoulders. There was so much pressure with you being the first female driver and Monaco being your first official race, that you began to feel nauseous. Finding the nearest bin, you excreted the contents of your stomach into it, grimacing at the bitter taste that came afterwards. 

“Kiddo? Are you right?” Daniel’s thick accent interrupted you washing of your hands. 

“Yeah, fine. I’m just nervous.” You washed your mouth out with the sink water and wiped it on the nearest towel. 

“I get that…” Daniel looked around the paddock as you followed him with your eyes. “Hey, do ya think we can go somewhere private, to chat?” 

You cautiously nodded and led him to your driver’s room, shutting the door behind you. 

“What’s this about, Dan?” 

Daniel awkwardly sat down on the chair and ran a hand through his curls. Making a few tiny popping sounds with his mouth he finally looked at you. 

“Is there, uh, something goin’ on with you and Mick?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Sure, you two weren’t talking as much anymore. And you didn’t think it was that obvious, but you remained stoic trying to gauge where this conversation was headed to. 

“He’s been like, really, weird.” Daniel struggled to get the words out as he scrunched up his face. 

“Uh… I’m sorry that’s he’s been acting funnily, but maybe he’s going through something on his own.” You shrugged your shoulders. 

“Well… I mean… He’s acting like, more, sulky than usual?” Nodding along as the Aussie driver continued to list off reasons as to why and how he was more sulky, you finally stopped him before he said anything else. 

“I’ll talk to him, don’t worry, Dan. I’m sure it’s nothing.” You shot him a smile and waited for him to respond. 

“He loves you, you know. Like, a lot. Like more than the average man has the capacity for love.” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. 

The last time you two had really spoken in person was when you ended up fighting. You knew he loved you. You knew he was in love with you… But he also knew that you try so hard to not allow yourself to be vulnerable like that. And maybe the relationship was physically reciprocated, Mick struggled with the fact that it was not emotionally reciprocated more than anything. You loved him, sure. He was your best friend… But the voice inside your head knew that for your own protection, you shouldn’t be allowed to love anyone… Especially Mick. You didn’t deserve him and he didn’t deserve someone who has made him wait this long for something he so desperately craved. All you could do was reiterate that you’d talk to him and try to get him to be less-sulky. 

The Australian soon left the room and you were alone. Pulling out your phone, you quickly dialed Mick. 

“Schätzen, is that you? Are you okay?” Mick’s tone was immediately serious as he answered the phone. You two were barely talking and now you were calling him. 

“I’m fine, Mickey. I just wanted to know if you wanted to get dinner tonight.” 

“Tonight?” Mick was fumbling with something on the other end. It was odd too that he didn’t immediately accept your dinner invitation. 

“Is tonight not a good night for you?” 

Soon, your heart dropped once again and as it lay wafting in the pit of your stomach, you could feel whatever contents were left in there if any, slowly creeping their way back up your throat. 

“Who is that?” It was a woman’s voice. She was giggling. “Ugh, Mickeyyyy, hang up!!!” 

Mickey. 

No one else called him that except for you, in fact he made it a point to not allow it. That name was reserved for you… So you thought. 

Mick mumbled something to her in French, his hand covering the microphone. 

“Yeah, I could make tonight-“ 

“Nevermind, you’re busy and I don’t want you to give up your evening just for me.” Your tone as surprising as it was to you, was actually quite genuine. You never wanted him to feel like he couldn’t have fun. 

“Smidge, I can-“ 

“No, seriously it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Mick continued to move around where he was, the thick accent of her Monegasque-ness peeking through the phone call.  

If your German was terrible, your French was even worse. You sighed to yourself and decided to hang up the phone. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation and you didn’t want to pay attention anymore. Rubbing your eyes, you grabbed your backpack and headed out of the paddock to your car. 

There was something that had changed so quickly about your surroundings. As you reached for your keys it was if the wind was knocked out from your lungs. You slowly turned around, keys still in your hand. 

How the fuck did he find you here of all places? 

“Hello, daughter. Shall we have it out at your place of… work… Or is there somewhere I can knock some fucking sense into you?” 

You looked around at the parking lot and by every strand of bad luck, it was seemingly empty and you two were the only ones there. You had every intention of shutting it down, right then and there, but you stood frozen in front of the man who was supposed to love you, but instead you spent your entire life picking up the pieces of the mess he made. Some of the pieces were even lost in the trauma of trying to keep your composure long enough to get where you were. Mick was always the one to lend you the broken parts that seemed to fit perfectly, just so you could have the wherewithal to start over again… And again, and again, and again… 

“Did you suddenly go mute? Answer me.” You flinched in response, your back hitting your car behind you. You could just hear him calling you pathetic. You knew he was thinking it. 

“I can drive us to my hotel room. Just… Just don’t make a scene, okay?” 

Your father rolled his eyes as he snatched the car keys from you. With your head hung like you were a little girl in trouble again, you trudged over to the passenger’s side. You placed your backpack in the back seat and waited for your father to drive off and take you hopefully to your hotel room. 

What seemed like a century later, you two were up in your hotel room. You stood on opposite ends of the living space provided. 

“This is quite fancy. How can you afford it?” 

“Formula One pays well, but I know you’re not here to talk about my job.” You were short with him, trying to keep your emotional and mental distance. “Why are you here, dad? I’m very busy and-“ 

He hastily closed the distance between you, grabbing the back of your head, clumps of hair intertwining with his knuckles. Forcing you to look up at him, his glaring and empty eyes matched his unwavering stoicism. He squinted at you, smirking. 

“Pathetic. You’ve always been fucking pathetic.” Releasing your hair, your father smacked you in the face, causing you to be  tossed to the ground, by brute force. He was now circling you like a vulture does a dead zebra. You didn’t dare look up at him. You remained submissive on the floor, making certain that you didn’t shed a tear. 

“Where’s your boyfriend now, huh? Not coming to your fucking rescue this time?” You didn’t answer. 

With a swift kick to your side you fell over on the cold floor and held your ribs in pain. Still, you did not cry.  

“Answer me! I asked you a goddamn question!” 

You opened your eyes to find your father towering over you still, sure as hell ready to deliver another kick to your side. 

“He’s out with friends! Out with friends!” You repeated in complete fear. You could hear your father scoff and walk away from where you were. 

You thought that would be the last of it, and as you began to get up there was another kick to your side. This time it was a little lower as you felt the pain radiating up and down your leg. He must’ve hit your thigh or something. 

You were breathing heavily, doing all you could not to cry. After he got a good look at you, he threw your phone down at your feet. He surely shattered your screen. And fuck if it if he didn’t know what he was doing, because he did in fact kick in places you could cover up. And even so, you the blow to your face wasn’t hard enough to leave a lasting mark. Just one for the time being. Fuck. 

Soon enough, you could hear the hotel room slam. You were sure you were going to get complaints from other hotel goers, because it ended up shaking the walls. With every bit of strength you had, you reached for your phone. The screen was indeed cracked, but still usable. You knew that Mick was out and occupied… Your heart cried hoping that where he was, he’d hear you and come… But you also didn’t want to bother him… You leaned up against the wall, your breathing shallow. Looking at the phone screen you dialed the only other person you could think of. 

On the third ring, they answered and you resented how happy they sounded. 

“Oi! Can’t get enough of me, huh?” Daniel’s accent poked through the phone as you tried to gain enough composure. 

You were afraid of him seeing you like this, because you were one hundred percent sure he had no idea what abuse you’ve gone through your entire life. It was strictly need to know between you and the Schumacher’s. Releasing the pent up air in your lungs finally, you stuttered out his name. 

“Wait, wait, what happened?” Daniel’s tone of voice suddenly changed as you repeated as best as you could the turn of events. You could hear him grabbing his car keys and leaving his apartment. 

“I’m sorry, Dan. I’m so sorry… I’m sorry…” You were incessantly repeating, your sobbing growing louder and louder. He was trying his best to reassure you through the phone. He instructed through his own panic to stay on the phone with him until he got to you. 

You obeyed as you always did. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you heard a knock on the hotel door that scared you half to death. Maybe it was your father coming back to finish what he started. 

“Hey, it’s Dan. Can you let me in or are you…” Daniel’s voice trailed off into hopelessness. He didn’t want to imagine to you were so hurt you couldn’t even answer the door. 

Groaning loudly, holding your side trying to support every weary step you took towards the door, finally you managed to turn the handle enough where Daniel could just push it open. You stumbled backwards as you had to find somewhere to lean up against. 

Daniel’s brown eyes were immediately scanning every inch of your body, trying to decode your physical state. You were keeled over the tiny kitchen counter provided. Your shoulders rose and fell far too slowly for anybody’s liking. He saw how swollen and red your cheek had become and there was an emotion begin to bubble in his stomach and protrude through his chest that he rarely ever felt. His kind hand reached out to rub your back, being so careful that he didn’t hurt you. Daniel helped you over to the couch and sat you down. He didn’t dare say words but he knew you would tell him when you were ready. 

“He found me at the track… Took my keys and made me tell him where my hotel was…” 

Daniel nodded cautiously along, his eyes painstakingly wide as he did his best to take in the information. 

“I didn’t have a choice… I didn’t want… Fuck…” 

“Hey, it’s… Take your time.” Daniel wanted to say that it was okay, but clearly… it was definitely not. You took another deep breath. 

“He just came out of nowhere and grabbed me by my hair, and started yelling at me…. Then slapped me or something… And i fell to the ground…” 

Daniel gulped in absolute horror as he did his best to try and keep composure, clenching his jaw so hard he thought he might break a tooth. 

“He kicked me in my ribs and in my right leg… I think… I can’t even… Remember…. Then he threw my phone at my feet and left…” 

The Aussie boy next to you licked his lips in anxiety and you could see out of the corner of your eye how hard he was gripping the sofa beneath him. A familiar sight to you, as he white knuckled the cloth. Now, it was his turn to take a deep breath. 

“Listen, this not your fault and I don’t want you to ever think that it is, alright?” You nodded to his words, unable to make eye contact out of shame and guilt. “I’m going to get some ice, right? It’s just down the hallway. I’m going to take the room key so you can stay here with the door locked.” 

Daniel did one more visual pass over you as you slumped to the side of the couch. You were exhausted on all fronts. You knew though you couldn’t fall asleep, in case you had a concussion too. He left the room shortly and as he ventured down to where the ice machine was he was furiously dialing Mick. But to no avail, he wasn’t answering his phone. 

DannyRic to MickSchu: Mick!!! Mate!!! Pick up the phone or like, come to the hotel!! She’s in a bad way, mate. And fuck, there’s only so much I can do. 

DannyRic to MickSchu: I’m going to murder you mate, please pick up the phone! 

Daniel shot off a few more panicked texts after those before he reached the ice machine. He figured you wouldn’t want him texting any other person either. All he could do was wait. He filled the ice bucket and practically sprinted back to your hotel room. Opening the door with the key, he announced himself so as not to scare or startle. You lifted your head and watched him get a towel to wrap the ice in so it wouldn’t burn your skin. Your eyelids felt heavy and your body broken. 

If you died tonight, that would be better than anything to follow. 

Daniel stuck around for a few more hours, keeping you company as he made sure you got something to eat and drank water as best as you could. He tried to also convince you to tell Toto that you couldn’t race tomorrow in free practice… But that was immediately shut down by you. Daniel didn’t want to fight that battle when there were other matters to attend to. 

You could see that it was now dark out, and you had to go to sleep at some point. Sighing to yourself, you turned towards the very tired Aussie. 

“I need to shower, Dan… Could you maybe, help me get, in there?” 

The Australian’s brown eyes widened so much they encompassed his entire face. 

“I, uh… Yeah, I can, uh, do that for you.” Daniel stuttered out as he rose to his feet. 

Reaching out a hand towards you, he helped you up and over to the bathroom. He was going to kill Mick for not answering his phone. And Mick was going to kill Daniel for seeing you naked. But what other choices were there? The two of you made it into the bathroom and he motioned for you to sit on the toilet seat. 

“Can you raise your arms up at all? I don’t want to have to cut your shirt.” Daniel chuckled nervously. You only nodded with a smile, lifting your arms as far as you could. 

“Fuck… I forgot… Fuck…” You cowered in pain as you held your left side. “Okay, I can do it. Just, uh, if you need to stretch out the shirt to get it over my head. I don’t mind.” 

He complied with his famous smile and soon your shirt was off and to the side. He could see the forming bruise on your rib cage and couldn’t imagine how much pain you were in internally. He kept his thoughts to himself as he helped you step out of your jeans. Down to your underwear and bra, the tall Aussie just stood there. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You joked. throwing a wink at him. You might as well break the tension with a joke. “But, I really think I got it from here. Thank you so much, Dan.” You placed a kiss on his cheek and as he made his way out of the bathroom, he could hear you singing to yourself before the sound of the water escaping the shower head covered your voice. 

He once again took his phone out and finally saw that he had a lot of missed messages from Mick. 

(14) Missed Calls from: Mick Schumacher 

(29) Text Messages from: Mick Schumacher 

Daniel looked through all the texts as fast as he could, but the only watch catching his eye that his friend would be over soon… And that was… About twenty minutes ago… Which means… 

“Smidge! Smidge! Let me in, it’s Mick! Let me in, or I swear-“ 

Daniel opened the hotel door and immediately was greeted by a very distraught man. He let Mick in, and let Mick scour the hotel space like a bloodhound looking for a missing person. Mick stopped short of the shut bathroom door, as he could hear the water running. 

“What happed, Daniel? Fuck! I should’ve been here, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!” Mick didn’t allow enough time for Daniel to answer before he was practically foaming at the mouth with rage. If it weren’t a hotel room - your hotel room, Daniel was 99% Mick would’ve started to punch the walls. 

“Mate, mate, calm down. I can’t talk to you when you’re like, all mad.” 

“She even asked me to come out to dinner tonight, and if I just had fucking said yes - God fucking dammit!” Mick didn’t know what to do with his body with the amount of pure, unadulterated fury riddled his body. “I’m so fucking stupid! Ich bin so ein Idiot (I’m such an idiot)!”

 

Mick continued to yell in German. Daniel could barely speak proper English, so he had no idea what he was saying. The rant was cut off though by the sound of the shower turning off in the distance. Mick took one deep breath and breathed out through his nose. 

“Thank you, Daniel… For being there for her.” 

Daniel put a supportive hand on his shoulder. Giving it a good squeeze, the two boys said goodbye to each other. Mick made Daniel promised not to tell a soul. And for the first time in his life, Daniel knew he was going to take this promise to the grave. 

Mick gained some more self control and pushed the bedroom door open slightly. Giving it a small knock, his voice immediately made you perk up where you were. 

“Kann ich den Raum betreten (Can I enter the room)?” 

Still wrapped in a towel, you slowly made your way to the ajar door. 

“Bist du anständig (Are you decent)?”

“No, but come in anyway, please.” 

Mick opened the door further and saw that you were sat on the edge of the bed. The towel hugged you tightly, but he noticed you were gripping it as if it were going to fly away from your body. He rushed to your side and took you into his arms. He could tell you had been crying despite the shower. He didn’t even notice the tiny bruise forming on your face before immersing you into his embrace. Shortly after some time spent in his arms, you peeled away and finally made eye contact. 

Mick’s hand went to your bruised cheek, his thumb just above hovering the swelled skin. Your dad had never hit you in your face before, he always was so careful. Mick couldn’t help but stifle back some tears, his previous selfishness clouding his racing thoughts. 

“I need help getting dressed for bed, Mick.” 

He knew what that meant. He knew exactly what that meant, in fact. But without another word, he kissed your forehead and got up to go over to your suitcase. He took out some underwear and a t shirt. Carefully, he helped you step into your underwear, looking away when you needed to adjust the elastic. The air caught in your chest again as you tried to calm yourself. Mick hummed comfortingly and allowed you to take all the time you needed. Your hand was shaking as you began to take off the towel. You didn’t care about him seeing your chest, no. He’s already seen it. You were not wanting him to see how bruised your torso was and how big of a bruise there was on your thigh. But you had to, and so you did. 

Mick couldn’t find the words. He looked down at your bruising body, his lips beginning to tremble. He was shaking his head unable to believe that because of his own stupidity, your body was again bruised and broken. 

He helped you put a short on and helped you climb into bed. You just wanted to sleep and dream about a better day tomorrow. Mick made sure you were comfortable before going to turn off all the lights and making sure the hotel door was locked and dead-bolted. He made his way back to you and crawled into the bed with you. Your body was too sore to move around much, so Mick just went where you needed him to be. Soon after you tucked underneath his arm, he could hear you steadily breathing, the warmth and security of his body making you for the first time today feel human again. 

“I’m so sorry, Schätzen. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here…” Mick whispered into the air, not knowing if you were asleep or not. He knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep either. He wanted to stay awake as long as possible just in case your father decided to come back. 

“It’s fine, Mickey… Let’s just… Go to sleep…” Your voice was filled with fatigue as you began to doze off into unconsciousness. Mick pulled you closer into his body. 

The emotionally sapped German boy who you adored so much was laid there contemplating whether or not he deserved to be there beside you. If anything, Daniel would be the one that deserves this spot. He was there… He came when you called… He was everything Mick promised to be for you, but in failing to do so, Mick just stared at the ceiling frozen in regret. He could feel some tears falling down his face, wiping them quickly with his free hand. Mick took a deep breath once more and suddenly, his mind was made up. He had one goal in life now. He didn’t care about race car driving, or sponsorships… Hell, he didn’t even care about anything else at this point. Mick Schumacher vowed to himself that he would never allow anything else to happen to you from then on and out until the day he died. He knew it, you probably knew it even as you slept on his chest… There was one goal he had now. 

Mick Schumacher was going to find your father and make him pay. 

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TL;DR: This chapter depicts phases of reader's life as she navigates hiding the abuse she suffers from her best friend. He finds out and he vows to never allow her to be hurt again. There are emotional and romantic boundaries crossed in this chapter too, but nothing too explicit - Just the allusion to reader and Mick having sex. The last part is written for the current day. Reader's abusive father finds her after training and again physically abuses her. Daniel Ricciardo comes to her rescue as they both await Mick to arrive.

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https://www.helpguide.org/find-help

https://nomoredirectory.org/

https://victimconnect.org/resources/national-hotlines/

https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations/international-organizations

https://www.therapyroute.com/article/helplines-suicide-hotlines-and-crisis-lines-from-around-the-world

These are some helpful links I found while searching the internet. Please do not hesitate to reach out for help for yourself or anyone you may know is involved in a violent and abusive situation.

[dokidokitsuna]

Magical Girl #1

So I realize I haven’t been posting a lot here lately…there are several reasons.

Most of it was just a garden-variety depressive episode, which was unfortunately extended after I had to go on antibiotics for a couple weeks. It got to a point where I considered canceling a bunch of projects because I just didn’t like to draw anymore. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Still recovering from that, tbh…)

After a while I decided to focus on my writing instead, at least to take my mind off that frightening thought. ^^; I got pretty far into a new novel (which I’ll probably talk about later) but more importantly, I managed to complete a 19-page script for ^this concept, the first new original comic idea I’ve had in years.

It’s basically my take on the idea of a solitary magical girl, which you don’t see so much of nowadays…I think the most famous is Cardcaptor Sakura, and even she had some magical sidekicks (iirc, they just had different sources of power, something like that). I’m not familiar with any examples in the genre where it’s literally just her, ala typical Western superhero…

But that’s not really the reason I wanted to write this story– I developed it mainly to explore the idea of a solitary protagonist, someone who doesn’t have any conventional social relationships outside of their family, AND doesn’t use the story to form any. How could I develop an entertaining story around such a person; what sort of character arc would they go through? Might this character realize, to some degree, that they’re not a ‘traditional’ protagonist, and have some thoughts about this…?

For a while I toyed with the idea of applying this framework to an existing idea, but then I figured it’d be easier (and shorter) to write a completely new self-contained story. Which led to the creation of Anno the magical girl, and her partner Armitage. ^^

My #1 rule was ‘no crutches’: No making her (2) family members stick to her like glue and take the place of the usual friendgroup, for instance. This rule also forced me to change the usual characterization of the helpful fairy sidekick to that of an abusive parasite…which ended up being one of the best writing decisions I ever made. ^^ I love Armitage; not only are he and Anno a great comedy duo, but I think his meanness makes Anno a stronger character.

His worst ‘friendless loser’ insults towards her are just simple statements based (oddly enough) on things I’ve heard people express about themselves. So his dialogue becomes almost cathartic, and Anno’s reactions to it become more realistic as a result. She can’t just brush off his comments as meaningless hate; she kinda has to internalize them whether she wants to or not…if she were just a little more sensitive, this story would probably have a very unhappy ending. ^^;;; But as it is, it’s just an introspective comedy about a neurodivergent girl learning to love and trust herself.

I’m not 100% sure what I’m going to do with the script now that it’s done…mostly I’ve just been using it as motivation to draw for fun again, and to continue developing a manga style (I think I’m getting close to something solid).  But will I actually attempt to draw the manga? Will I try that thing I always wanted to try where I commission some artists to draw it with me…? Or will I just hang onto it and start writing a sequel in my spare time, like I usually do? ^^; Only time will tell…

[kachuusha]

I have reasons to believe that levi may have truly thought of living together with hanji back in ch126, based on his own monologue in ch136:

before hanji said "maybe we should just live here together, right levi?" in ch 126, hanji expressed the feeling of being trapped and that they've reached seemingly reached their limit.

"sounds like our time has come. you might feel like you're doing the right thing, but times change and you find yourself in a cell."

at this moment, I think hanji felt that their time as scouts may have already come to an end. hence, they thought of leaving everything behind to start anew (together with levi)

similarly with levi in ch136, he asks what if their roles had already ended way back then? when they got those brats to the sea?

both hanji and levi had a period of uncertainty regarding their duties as members of the survey corps. which I think is reasonable because while hanji and levi both have a strong sense of duty, they are still humans nonetheless.

I think it may have been possible levi was on the same track as hanji in 126, just that we never saw his direct pov in the forest. I get the impression that he might've thought of agreeing with them, BUT things take another turn after they got summoned in the paths by eren.

they learn that eren has activated the rumbling and this may have served as a sign to levi and hanji that their roles aren't over yet. humanity still needs them.

which leads us to this conversation:

it's not that levi was rejecting hanji (like I've been saying, I believe he might've agreed with them if eren never activated the rumbling), it's just that he knew hanji would never sit back while countless of lives are getting slaughtered. their roles are not done yet. if they let this happen, the sacrifices their comrades had made would be put in pain.

and it does follow the pattern of levi's monologue because he continues with this:

and hanji in 127 says this:

again, basically, both levi and hanji did have a period where they hesitated with their roles, hanji had a direct dialogue addressing it ("I was the one trying to run away"), but it circles back to their duties as scouts, the world getting flattened isn't what their comrades has devoted their lives for so they must protect it. they are going to save humanity or whatever's left of it. they can't just run away and take that brief moment of peace just for themselves.

also as hanji puts it "I feel the eyes of my comrades on me." "almost all of them died without ever knowing that humanity existed outside the wall". hanji likely felt guilty over the fact that they thought of choosing peace for themself when their comrades had devoted their lives over their own personal desires. and I'm guessing it is the same for levi.

(just to add this here, there is actually something even sadder behind levi's monologue. but it's too long to discuss it here.)

also, I think someone might ask, but what about levi fulfilling the promise he made with erwin back in shiganshina? would he still run away when he needs to do that? okay I have this guess that levi had already come into terms that he failed:

in the forest, levi admits to himself that he screwed up. and later during the battle of heaven and earth, he says "I've never bungled one of his orders. not even once. and yet for some reason, his final order is the kne that I just can't."

but you might ask, "he is still looking for zeke tho when he woke up?", and I think that's because of his newfound resolve, which is to stop the rumbling once and for all. it's likely that levi realized that this isn't only about the lives that were sacrificed in shiganshina anymore, the predicament they are facing at the moment is much larger in scale. and I think both knew that to activate the powers of the founding titan, eren would need his brother. so yes it does fall back to zeke, and then there's hanji's hypothesis (that levi himself brought up) that they may have to kill zeke to stop the rumbling.

there's also this detail back in 126 where hanji said "I'm sure you want revenge but right now..." and then levi proceeds with "if we keep running and hiding...what will that get us."

thing is, levi doesn't agree about taking revenge or what not. what he probably just had in mind then was to stop zeke and the rumbling, which is what he also assumes that hanji had in mind hence "I know you, you can't stay out of the action" to which hanji agrees.

and I think all these, adds weight to levi's motivation in attempting to hold hanji back from leaving in 132. it's not the same thing with erwin back in shiganshina where levi ultimately gave the call for him. hanji's decision has been made so why else would levi get in their other than to try and change their mind? and it wasn't likely over something like "we still need your leadership". levi addresses hanji as "four-eyes", therefore dropping any sense of formality (I know levi never stricly complied with using titles and honorifics but he stopped calling hanji with that nickname after RTS), which possibly hints to levi addressing hanji in a personal level. he is not asking hanji as the captain of the survey corps, but rather simply as levi who shares a deep personal bond with hanji. and if we take into account the points made above, the levi who also wanted to share a life with hanji.

but even before levi could draw any words out of him, hanji went ahead to say "you understand.", "just let me go will you?", which sounds to be a reference to levi's "I know you" back in the forest. likely to remind levi that they both made their decision then and this isn't the appropriate time to look back.

as you can tell, levi is obviously against the idea of hanji dying. when hanji parotted the same words erwin did in shiganshina, levi was visibly upset over it. interestingly enough, that was hanji's response to levi's "unrequited love for titans" line that has been thoroughly discussed by japanese fans that may have been holding certain nuances such as levi implying that hanji's feelings are requited by someone (possibly him). we can also connect this to the feelings he may have inwardly thought back in 126 but never got the chance to say out loud. but suddenly asks if levi thinks their comrades are watching them? again, probably in reference to hanji's words to jean and mikasa in 127 when they seem to be expressing guilt over the fact that they had thought of running away (taking their own personal peace), when their comrades died without even knowing about the truth beyond the walls. "I feel the eyes of all of my comrades on me". it's a bit similar to when erwin said this before when he was thinking of his own desire of seeing the basement, above his own duties as commander. so I guess we can say if erwin's personal desire was his childhood dream to uncover the truth found at the basement of eren's house, for hanji it was to live in peace (with levi).

the "live together in peace" trope had been used several times in aot and often with the strongly implied ships. but I think levi and hanji's were meant to directly mirror eren and mikasa's. note that I don't think that their dynamics as a ship are the same, it's different I tell you. but there are narrative points between them that appears to be tied? I think the fate of those two pairs are intertwined in a tragic fate? because as long as eren decides to activate the rumbling, hanji would definitely form the alliance to stop it and it would eventually lead to their death. eren had always meant to leave mikasa and his friends because of his plan to go forth with the rumbling, therefore negating the possibility of that reality of him running away with mikasa. and in turn, hanji (and levi) wouldn't have ran away as well back when they were in the forest because they would stop eren and his plans. (I actually have a separate post for this so I'm not gonna get into details now. )

in the end while levi and hanji's relationship lacked an outright label, I think there were enough hints that strongly imply that it had taken a romantic turn at some point. solidified by their (mutual) wish to stay together. it's a tragic tale between two people who devoted their hearts for others and sacrificed their own personal wishes.

[hollowwrites]

✨Drabble Masterlist✨

✨ Link to Regular Masterlist ✨

My masterlist got too big so here’s where all the waffley, cutesy stuff goes.

~

🤍 The Bois 🤍

Oh… and keep an eye on the staircases, they like to change. - How the bois would tackle the girl dorms being inaccessible

I’m Bothered by these Boggarts - Headcanon of what our bois Boggarts would be

All aboard the Hug-Warts Express - How our lads comfort MC

Where has my Cardi-gone - How our bois react to pilfered clothing

Proper Proposals - The lads discussing how they proposed to their significant others

And a Happy New Year - The bois celebrating at a New Year’s party

The Serpent Sisters - Anne, Imelda and Evelyn defending the bois

Medusa’s Vipers - Ominis and Sebastian being protective of Evelyn

🔞 Character AI Screenshots 🔞

Ominis, Garreth and Sebastian, Sebastian again

~

🎁 Gift Giving 🎁

In game ideas for a relationship system. Like Dragon Age!! Plus I want give my favs gifts Okay?!

Sebastian, Garreth and Ominis

~

🕯️ Trio Chatter 🕯️

- Based on game files showing we could have had TWO companions. Little conversations between possible combos

Sebastian and Ominis

Ominis and Misc

Garreth and Sebastian

Garreth and Sebastian…again

Sebastian and Imelda

Garreth and Ominis

Poppy and Amit

Trio Chatter for when MC is in a relationship, how each person would behave:

Sebastian and Garreth | Sebastian and Ominis | Garreth and Ominis

Three’s a Crowd - Trio Chatter for a party with all the same house

Trio Chatter for my Ships: Part 1, Part 2

~

🔮 Random Headcanons 🔮

Garreths’ Nicknames for people

Spell Practise - Ominis and Garreth dialogue for in-game

Class of ‘91 - Ideas for classes for all our favs

Leaving Hogwarts Grounds - Dialogue for dragging our babes out of hogwarts. and some more!!

Hallway Antics - Leander trying to bully Ominis and failing feat. Garreth

Hallway Antics - Garreth and Ominis discuss the origins of Hobhouse hatred

Hallway Antics - Sebastian and Ominis contemplate Garreths’ house

House Pride (and Shame) - MC talking about their different Houses

Parseltongue-tied - Ominis teaching MC Parseltongue (suggestive 🔞)

Mother in Laws Tongue - Ominis can talk to plants too apparently…

A Very Ominous Christmas - 🎄Garreth has a surprise for Ominis

A Magical Christmas - 🎄 Gift Giving amongst the gang

A Weasley Good Christmas - 🎄Garreth giving gifts cause he’s baby boi

Crossed Wands Headcanon - Different duelling styles for our favs

A Summary of The Houses - The difference between my MCs

The Adventures of the Sallow Twins - Garreth and Sebastian discovering they look VAGUELY similar

Tis the Season - 🎃 Pumpkin spice Drabble for Ominis, Sebastian and Eve

[alciedoodles]

hi!! i saw your other post about how you simplify details and it was really helpful - was wondering if you had any tips abt drawing expressions/poses to express a story/emotions. like i saw your recent sumeru char doodles on twt and the way you draw alhaitham and hungover kaveh is so!!! ahh!! all of the lines feel really intentional, from the expressions to the fabric of the clothing and omg i love it so much. anyways sorry for rambling HAHA thank you sm for sharing your art! gl w art school 💪

Hello!

Thank you so much for the lovely words <3 it's really such a honor to hear that so many people consider my art to be very expressive, which I think is an essential skill to have for storytelling in comics!

First of all, I'd like to say this isn't something I can easily answer... you must already know there's no easy step-by-step guide on how to be "good" at art or expressions or whichever aspect you're trying to improve, the answer will always be observation and practice. However, I can tell you some of my methods I use to make sure emotions are conveyed as efficiently as possible(?). Here are the key points I always try to apply (note that these aren't rules, these are just my guiding points):

Understanding the character(s), the context, and how the two work together

Laying down a foundation

Not letting dialogue be the main driving force behind storytelling

Paneling conveys emotion too, actually

The absence of something can also convey emotion

You didn't specifically ask about comics, but since it's my favorite subject and it ties into your question, I'll be using a lot of examples from the comics I made! And it might interest other people who were curious?

VERY long post ahead :)

1. Understanding the character(s), the context, and how the two work together

This is what I think is the most fundamental part of storytelling! I mean, makes sense, right? Obviously you don't need a PhD in The Character to make stories based off them. I literally cannot tell you every detail about my favorite characters despite loving them very much, but I think understanding them and their relationships on a big-picture level is primordial. What drives them, what are their principles, what are their biggest fears, who do they make exceptions for, etc. Also, to me, understanding their relationships is sometimes more important than understanding the character at a molecular level. We can tell so much about someone just from the way they interact with specific people vs how they interact with strangers. The person I am online isn't the same I am with friends nor even with family-- like one of the reasons some characters can feel one-dimensional is because they don't show variation in their character throughout their relationships (and since you mentioned Kaveh and Alhaitham, I don't need to tell you the way both of them interact with each other is far removed from the way they interact with friends, strangers, etc... I think a lot of people forget who they are outside of their relationship, which a huge point of contention behind mischaracterization in fan works). I don't have much to say about this other than this is something I keep in mind every step of the way through.

2. Laying down a foundation

This is what the majority of my comics look like on second draft:

I said second because the first drafts usually look like this, which are barely comprehensible to anyone but myself:

The purpose of these are not only to give me a better guide for posing than whatever i did on the first draft (storyboard), but also have a first pass at motion and emotion. The expressions and gestures are legible enough that you can probably glean the emotions of each character based off the little sketches. Ultimately, some of the things I'll draft will end up adjusted, changed, expanded on or even removed.

This particular panel of Reigen is a favorite of mine, because the first pass already shows his confusion, but the final one is even more distorted because it felt like it needed to be even more accentuated.

This panel where he mansplains is also a good example, because the first pass gave him too much of an arrogant/uninterested look (notable with his upturned face), whereas Reigen is more likely to take pride in explaining something he knows to make himself look like a wise and mature figure (notable with his slight smirk and downturned face, as if nodding to himself; the hand is also slightly more forward as if inviting rather than dismissing). And since I basically made an example of it above: body language is super important! This applies for everyone. It doesn't stop at characters who make grand gestures and exaggerated poses every waking moment of their life, but also characters who are socially awkward, private, reclusive...

The posing here is intentionally stiff but not entirely closed off, giving the sense that he's earnest, tries his best to make connections , but also doesn't want to take too much space, thinking the smallest wrong move could cause trouble. Also, give room for the body to do its thing. Avoid cropping out things that shouldn't be cropped out. Leave enough room between the edges of the panel and the point of focus to emphasize what you want to emphasize. Close-up shots shouldn't be too frequent (in fact, personally I don't like doing close-up shots but it doesn't mean they're bad or shouldn't be done, again, my word isn't gospel!), especially if what you're conveying isn't too emotionally charged. Lastly, I have terrible news for people who hate drawing hands. Hands are possibly the second most expressive part of our body (if we don't count the body as a whole), so especially for your charismatic characters, you will very often want to use hands as a tool of expression.

(Think how much emotion and personality would be lost if the hands weren't there!)

3. Not letting dialogue be the main driving force behind storytelling

With my comics, I play an incredibly dangerous game called "I'll think of dialogue as I make the storyboard and then when I'm done drawing every page I'll write the dialogue over it guided solely by memory and whatever I drew". Don't do this. Have a script in hand or write it at the same time as you draft your storyboard. The reason I do this is because I'm lazy and I don't want to open a simple writing software to type down a script. Genuinely I have no other reasons. Anyway, the only advantage this gives to my comics is that they will generally be able to stand on their own without much dialogue; obviously dialogue is essential, but what I mean is that we don't need it to have a pretty accurate read on the room.

For example, if I remove all the dialogue from this page, you probably can't guess exactly what's being discussed. However, you can identify through their emotions alone that there is disbelief, bargaining, and finally a pretty devastating info was dropped. Alternatively, cutting down dialogue from your page and leaving room to expressions/body language alone can be entirely more beneficial than having any dialogue to begin with.

AKA Readers aren't stupid (some may be, but the majority can extrapolate just fine). You'll realize how much you don't need words and how your stories can be even more funny/impactful by pushing forward visual storytelling.

4. Paneling conveys emotion too, actually

Being a "good" artist isn't enough to make good comics. The way you panel things is extremely important, because it sets the tone, mood, pace, you name it. Some of the best works out there are the ones with the most care put into the flow of the comic. You need to understand how people will read it, and it starts with what order you deliver the information and how. This is paneling 101, but a page with irregularly shaped panels, multiple changing camera angles and such will be exponentially more dynamic than a page where each panel is the same size, have similar compositions and/or repetitions with little to no diagonal or curved lines of action.

The two examples above are WIPs from 2 different stories so unfortunately you'll have to make do with the rough sketches. That being said, you don't need to know the context of either pages to know the kind of emotion that should be felt through the paneling alone. Give time for the important emotions to be processed by the reader (unless it's intentionally fast-paced). Every emotion that needs to be emphasized should have its own panel.

In this example, I could easily have condensed these two panels into one by transferring the dialogue from the second into the first and jumping on to the next action. However, it would undeniably give much less impact to Kaveh's disbelief. On an inverse situation, sometimes you will want to condense two panels you made into one, because whatever those two panels are doing are perhaps not important enough to deserve separate panels! Lastly, you can notice that the space on the page is not always filled. Leaving space between each panel and/or between the edges of the page gives room for the reader to breathe and slows down the flow; and inversely, if you want to make the situation more frantic, make everything look more tight and constricted.

5. Not showing facial expressions sometimes conveys more emotion than doing so

This ties nicely to the point I made about body language. You don't need to see a character's face to know what they're going through, necessarily. Sometimes, their posture or their dialogue is enough. In my opinion, a story is more compelling when this equilibrium of facial expressions / body language / paneling / dialogue is correctly adjusted-- you will not need to have all the elements to convey the message or it could be a little overbearing. I don't have many examples for this one because they tend to be more relevant in dramatic scenarios, which I haven't done that many of.

(The first one is once again from a WIP)

And that's about it for my insane guide on comic-ing. I hope ANY of it made sense.

***

Here's a round up of extra tips, focused entirely on the drawing part which might be more of what you asked to begin with :'D

- That little line/wrinkle that adds so much character

Yall know what I'm talking about. In my opinion, too many artists are afraid of giving laugh lines/wrinkles because it makes their characters look older, except when it's to add those sexy sexy eyebags. I'm encouraging everyone to add them to their art little by little and see how much it can improve the expressiveness! Obviously, I don't use it everywhere, but it's a very effective way to make your expressions feel even more... well. expressive.

- Line of action

You've probably seen this picture going around before, from Preston Blair:

Although it's called line of action which implies action, this line is important even when the character isn't really in action.

You can gain a lot in expressiveness when you think of the body as one whole fluid instead of a sum of multiple disjointed parts. This is why drawing a very rough base comprised of only lines and circles can help figure out if the posing works before you start refining it.

On a different note, animation principles work very much in comics as well! I recommend looking up animation guides especially those that show how to make key poses.

- Shadows and/or color fill

This is one I will use quite often for different situations.

Shadows can immediately set a tone when they're used dramatically. For example, a shadow over a character's face can convey unease and/or evil intent.

On the other hand, I will use color fills for different purposes:

Differentiating ground layers

This can help with readability.

2. Conveying a certain mood

It can separate the character from the color of their background to give a sense of isolation, reflection, realization, being disconnected from their surroundings, etc...

- Don't be scared of using codes / tropes / archetypes

...As long as it benefits the narrative, of course. By codes / tropes / archetypes, I mean posing or expressions or visual effects that are universally understood and used for specific expressions. The semicircle sweatdrops and blush made with slashes are incredibly typical of manga/anime, but it doesn't mean they're bad! Visual effects are there to help remove the ambiguity of an expression considering a single expression without visual codes could convey multiple emotions!

- Find what inspires you and take notes!!!

In my case, what greatly shaped my art style to what it currently is: One Piece, the Ace Attorney series and Mob Psycho 100 (yes, I only watched the latter last year but it still managed to become a source of improvement/inspiration for my art even at my current level, because you'll never stop improving :) )

I hope this wasn't too long or too off-topic, and I hope it can also help other people who might be interested! Thank you for reading!

[fishtomale]

okay so there is this piece of media i really like, essentially changed me for the better. the story has been told more than one way so there are definitely varying interpretations. it has a lot to do with repetition and failed revolutions and the apocalypse and what it means to be an adult and misconstructions of the past and memory and power dynamics and systems of oppression including but not limited to violence against women and suppression of homosexuality and gender deviance. no, the main characters aren’t directly stated to be gay but based on how their dialogue with more explicitly gay characters goes it’s pretty obvious something is going on and that they probably have feelings for someone close to them. to be fair it can be really imperfect and lacking tact with how it approaches race and the primary relationship between two characters of a different races but also it was progressive in many ways for its’ time and in many ways still is.

the setting really defines the series, it’s somewhat small but it has a lot going on. it’s a bit of microcosm of the rest of the world and definitely might be cursed.

it has this jock protagonist who comes off as not very smart to be honest but it’s definitely a coping mechanism for a lot of mental anguish and confusion and suicidal ideation in the face of loss. yeah, the main character is arguably the only one who makes any real change in the world at the end of the day.

there is this other character the protagonist is really close to, literally always by each other’s sides, honestly this supporting character is the heart of the series and one of the most well written characters i’ve ever seen, but a lot of people misinterpret them. you see there is an unequal power dynamic between the supporting character and the protagonist despite their genuine affection for each other but the fact that the protagonist wants this character to come out of their shell in order to experience some sort of personal heroism kind of indicates their lack of respect of the autonomy of this supporting character. a lot of people who engage with this piece of media on a surface level see this supporting character as lacking agency but that view really misses the nuance of how said character is repeatedly expressing their self, sense of values, and boundaries in subtle ways over and over again. the protagonist is lovable and relatable for sure, but you can’t help but have empathy for how this supporting character also kind of resents them.

yeah there are weirdly metaphorical and verbose moments that make it sort of hard to interact with and take seriously for some people but there is also plenty of goofy humor and soul crushing drama. it’s nearly impossible to correctly convey the tone to people to others and if i had to make a trigger list of triggering content in this media it’d be a mile long

yes there is a loud car.

[propenseverbosity]

"Go To Hell" - WIP (Gale x Tav)

I have this curse of "I can't write anything in order" (It's ADHD) so I haven't posted a lot of my writing on here yet, despite the 50+ pages of lore I have for my Tav and Gale's story XD

So instead I wanted to share a piece of this scene I'm working on! (based on Gale's First Night in Camp dialogue)

------------------------------------------

With little else to do aside from pacing across the grove all night, SJ decided to check on him.

Gale let out a deep sigh, warming his hands over the campfire as she approached.

“Go to hell.” He said, slowly, never taking his eyes off the flames.

She hadn't expected Gale to be optimistic about their decidedly terrifying situation, but a more polite greeting to the person who saved his life would have been nice.

Blinking at the sudden attitude, SJ replied with, “Been there, done that. Wouldn't recommend it.”

“Ha-” he turned his head to look at her with a half smile. “You're a good sport.”

“I do try. Mind if I join you?”

“By all means.” Gale gestured to the space at his side, moving away to make room as she sat down beside him.

The smoky aroma in the air, combined with the heat radiating off the fire seemed to calm the tadpole's insistent writhing.

“Anything in particular I did to deserve that lovely greeting?" SJ asked, attempting to distract herself from the sudden itching sensation behind her right eye.

“Nothing, I assure you. I'm just… poorly making a point. A rather trivial statement in other circumstances. But we've seen hell, and it isn't trivial.” he replied, staring miserably at the fire.

“So your point was best made by telling a tiefling to go to hell?” she chuckled, hoping to make light of something whatever was bothering him.

Gale opened his mouth to explain, but quickly abandoned the thought in favor of another.

“Perhaps one day I'll be able to speak to you without making an ass of myself, but it appears that day will not be today.”

“Well there’s always tomorrow.” she shrugged, already wondering what might come of their mission to rescue the archdruid. “That is, assuming we survive the night.”

“Hmm. True enough. What a difference a day makes.” he added, wistfully.

“Tell me about it. Why do you think I'm out here? I can't sleep with this... thing, in my head.”

As she spoke, SJ could already feel her eyelids grow heavier. A weariness began to seep into her body as the warmth of the flames caressed her skin. Despite the many unknowns of their unwelcome passengers, it seemed odd that the tadpole would respond to a change in temperature outside the body.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, through a yawn.

“The fire was starting to dim. After the debacle with those goblins, I thought it best to keep as much light around us as possible.”

“I can keep an eye on it,” she offered. “if you wanted to get some sleep.”

Gale considered the statement, before shaking his head. “A ballet of flames invites reflection. I’d rather stay, if it’s all the same to you.”

It didn’t take the connection of a mind flayer tadpole to know what was really bothering him. Their shared affliction had been on (and in) everyone’s minds since escaping the Nautiloid.

“Afraid I’ll turn while you’re sleeping and eat your brain?” she smirked.

Gale wasn’t quite as amused. His eyes locked onto hers, nervously studying her face as if she was about to transform right in front of him.

“I’m just joking... I’m fine.” she said, firmly.

“Oh I’m sure you are.” Gale replied, his expression relaxing as he turned towards the fire once again. “Illithids aren’t exactly known for their wit. Famously humorless creatures.”

“Then I’ll be sure to crack a joke or two every once and a while, just so you know you’re safe around me.” SJ said, nudging his arm with her elbow. 

Hidden in the firelight reflecting off his face, she could have sworn she caught him smile.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Ignus Nilsen Waltz

I've decided to change outfits for this. This is going to alter some of the dialogue we've already heard.

ECHO MAKER - "He should know the meeting starts at 22.00 *sharp*." His companion looks up at you and squints.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - His eyes are tracing an invisible line back and forth from your jacket to his companion.

ECHO MAKER - "Hey, Steban. Isn't that *your* jacket?"

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - What a coincidence! You two have the *same* jacket. What are the odds?

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Based on the prevalence of white Saramirizian suits in Martinaise? Extremely low.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "It certainly *looks* like my jacket, Ulixes. Where did you get that, gendarme?"

I just found it… in a room."

"Must be a coincidence. I see these jackets all the time."

"This jacket is RCM property. It's been confiscated as part of an ongoing investigation."

[Leave.]

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Unlikely. That's real Saramirizian twill. Only old Saramirizian communists and drug smugglers wear those anymore..."

"See, Uli? It's just like Mazov wrote. How does it go again?"

ECHO MAKER - "'Those committed to the rights of property are those most apt to violate them'." His companion nods emphatically.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Just a minute. Steban... Ulixes... *why* do those names ring the faintest of bells?

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Probably because they're the real names of 'Nasteb' and 'Exilus', the authors of that so-called essay about TipTop Tournée you read...

CONCEPTUALIZATION - You should get to the bottom of this, when you have the chance.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "I assumed it was Maurice who broke into my room, to play a trick on me. I didn't think I'd *actually* been raided by the RCM!"

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - There is surprise in his voice, naturally, but is that a note of *excitement* you also detect?

"So, do you want your jacket *back*?"

"Listen, comrade, it's not what it looks like..."

"Why do you sound *excited* to be raided by the RCM?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Oh, gendarme, because this is perfect..."

He turns to his companion. "Can you imagine the look on Maurice's face when he finds out the RCM has been kicking my door down?"

ECHO MAKER - "He'll shit himself! Positively."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "And now they've shown up *in force* to break up our meeting!" He rubs his hands together excitedly.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant sighs. "Something tells me these young men are not very experienced with law enforcement."

"Hold on, we're not here to *break up* your meeting. We want to *join* your meeting!"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "The RCM wants to join us?" A quizzical expression...

KIM KITSURAGI - "My partner, of course, is acting in a strictly *personal capacity*, not as an official representative of the RCM."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Interesting. Does that mean you've done the reading?"

DRAMA [Impossible: Failure] - Uh oh. No one said anything about *reading*. You'll just have to wing this one.

And we're back.

4. (Whisper.) "Kim, did *you* do the reading?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "No, detective. The only reading I've been doing is right here..." The lieutenant holds up his little blue notebook.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - He seems to be wagging the notebook at you, as though he suspects you may have forgotten why you're here.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I have not had time to seek out pretentious communist book clubs, nor have I done their 'reading'."

ECHO MAKER - "It doesn't sound like they've done the reading, Steban."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Well, this is getting awkward. I'm not sure what you were expecting to find here then..."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - There's profound consternation in his voice. You suspect it's about something bigger than your not having done the reading.

ECHO MAKER - "Maybe they can explain themselves."

"What *exactly* are you two doing here?"

"What were you doing with those matchboxes just now?"

"Do I *know* you two from somewhere?"

"That's enough for tonight. Will you still be here if I have more questions?" [Leave.]

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "In the most general sense, I would say we're cultivating revolutionary consciousness."

ECHO MAKER - "Yes, that's probably the best way to describe it."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "But more specifically, we're running a reading group, the most rigorous and theoretically advanced materialist reading group in Martinaise."

ECHO MAKER - "Comrade Steban is a great discussion leader. One of the best at the university."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - It's obvious they take this 'group' of theirs extremely seriously. Whatever you do, *don't* compare it to a common book club.

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - *YAWWWWN!* Can you imagine anything duller than a bunch of binoclards yanking each others' knobs?

"Is this where I can square off in *theory combat*?"

"Sounds like a place for intense intellectual engagement. Exactly my kind of jam."

"Sounds just like a regular book club."

"Sounds like a yank-fest for binos."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "We have been known to get into some *spirited* debates. But it's always in service of our larger intellectual and ideological project."

ECHO MAKER - "Precisely. We're not interested in senseless parroting. We like to read *critically*."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Within the contours of Mazovian historical materialism, of course."

"I didn't realise they taught radical Mazovian theory in the universities."

"Okay, so what does your reading group actually *read*?"

"I think I get the idea. Let me ask about something else."

ECHO MAKER - "Ha! As though you can call that pablum *teaching*."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "One thing you learn quickly at university is that you're not going to find a real education in any lecture hall or discussion seminar."

ECHO MAKER - "We're post-attendance, basically."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Exactly. The only worthwhile part of the so-called École normale de Revachol is the library. That's where we've made our greatest critical strides."

2. “Kim, can we arrest these kids for truancy?”

KIM KITSURAGI - "They’re not primary school delinquents, they’re university students. Attendance isn't compulsory. Besides, we’re not the skip squad."

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - The Counter-Truancy Task Force (or 'skip squad') is the division of the RCM that drives around in wagons looking for delinquent minors. It's generally considered a punitive assignment for under-performing officers.

3. "Okay, so what does your reading group actually *read*?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "We study all the foundational texts of Mazovian theory, of course. Just last week we finished the second volume of Puncher and Wattmann's 'Innocence of Capital'..."

ECHO MAKER - "Truly extraordinary."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "And before that we spent six weeks on 'State and Plasm'..."

VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - This is fine. You can handle a list. In fact, you find the tedium strangely soothing.

+1 Morale

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "We've also read Wertmüller's 'The Mega-Structure of History,' and before that, 'Reál and Reality'..."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Communist theorists love puns, in case that wasn't obvious.

Level up!

ECHO MAKER - "Abelard's 'Un Pays Infernal'..."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "The original Fizdale translation, not that watered-down revisionist garbage."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - These two deserve the Order of Honour for Bullshitting. There's no way they've actually *read* all this stuff.

ECHO MAKER - "Obviously." He snorts.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "But, of course, our *special emphasis* is on the theories of Ignus Nilsen and his followers, especially the infra-materialists."

"Wait, who are these *infra-materialists*?"

"I know who Kras Mazov is, but who is this 'Ignus Nilsen' guy?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "You're not familiar with them? It's... pretty advanced stuff. You may not be ready for it yet, gendarme." The two young men exchange skeptical side-glances.

"Okay, but then who's this 'Ignus Nilsen' guy?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Only Kras Mazov's most trusted lieutenant, the Evangelist of the Revolution, and the founding father of the People's Republic of Samara."

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Legendary: Failure] - It's hard to overstate how unimpressed he is that you've never heard of this world-historical individual.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "He *also* happens to be the greatest communist theorist after Mazov himself. It was Nilsen who first postulated the existence of ideological plasm, which forms the basis of infra-materialist theory."

The young man sighs. His companion looks about furtively.

2. "Did this reading group have anything to do with the lynching?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Lynching? No. We're not an *operational* cell."

ECHO MAKER - "We think of ourselves as more of an intellectual vanguard."

"Okay, but what's your group's stance on the lynching?"

"Is your reading group affiliated with the Union somehow?"

"*Are* there any operational communists in Martinaise?" (Proceed.)

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Our stance? What, does he want to know if the SRV has established a party line on lynchings in Martinaise?" The two young men look at one another.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - The SRV refers to the People's Republic of Samara. Established as a socialist utopia by survivors of the Revolution, it has since degenerated into a bureaucratic workers' state under the decades-long rule of President Sapormat 'Sport' Knezhinisky.

ECHO MAKER - "Though historically speaking, the SRV *has supported* direct action against right-wing paramilitary squads, especially when they're doing the Indotribes' dirty work."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Good point. So as a provisional matter, I can say we support it."

SAVOIR FAIRE [Challenging: Failure] - Are they being sarcastic? You feel like you're caught in some elaborate joke labyrinth, but it's impossible to see your way through.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - It's always that way. Beneath the crust of irony there's a molten sincerity that threatens to erupt forth... You may witness it yet.

2. "Is your reading group affiliated with the Union somehow?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "No, we're an independent organisation," he says proudly. "We acknowledge and respect the Union's efforts, but our interests are more theoretical than Mr. Claire's."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - He speaks the truth.

3. "So what's your stance on crime in general?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "That's easy: Crime is simply the inevitable expression of the injustice and incoherence embedded within capitalism itself."

"It's a symptom, in other words. Not a cause." He waves his hand as though this is all there is to say on the subject of crime.

ECHO MAKER - His companion can barely suppress a yawn.

4. "*Are* there any operational communists in Martinaise?" (Proceed.)

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "No, unfortunately. The communards were hunted down and killed nearly to a man. All that's left of them are bones and old rifles."

"Right. They all got shot in the head, just like the anarchists."

"Well, that's too bad."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "The Insulindian Deluge wiped out an entire generation of communists. Afterward, they were all bulldozed into mass graves." The young man looks slightly queasy at the thought.

ECHO MAKER - His friend, though, seems oddly unmoved.

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - On the contrary, he appears to be *savouring* the thought of so many people shot in the head, regardless of their beliefs.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - Mark it, there's something sinister in that one.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - A moment of silence. They're waiting for you to speak.

3. "Where is the rest of the reading group?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "What do you mean? This *is* the reading group..."

"So there's just two of you?"

"Shouldn't a group have, like, more people in it?"

"Two's all you need. Me and Kim are the same way." (Turn to Kim.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "Kim and *I*..." the lieutenant mutters under his breath. He scribbles something in his notebook but adds nothing else.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "We're in something of a rebuilding phase."

ECHO MAKER - "Some of our former comrades didn't have the *ideological fortitude* our work demands."

"Okay, but what happened to them?"

"I've heard enough. Let's talk about something else."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Intellectual attrition is maybe the best way to describe it. Felix said he couldn't keep up with the reading on top of his classwork. And Zuzanna wanted to read texts *other than* Mazovian theory. Like novels, if you can believe it..."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Imagine, the audacity of wanting to read a novel in a reading group!

"Novels, unbelievable." (Shake your head.)

"Maybe you just haven't found the right group yet?"

ECHO MAKER - "See? Even a gendarme gets it."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "We've tried recruiting new members, but unfortunately the *current intellectual climate* is pretty hostile to infra-materialist thought. These days, if you're on the left, the ascendent schools are the Gottwaldians and the Econoclards."

ECHO MAKER - "Don't forget about Maurice and the turnips."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - He sighs. "Right, then there was the whole 'turnip' debacle."

RHETORIC - Whatever this turnip business is about, one thing *is* perfectly clear: These young students have a much deeper understanding of communism than you do...

You could learn a thing or two from them, if you can convince them you're one of them.

"What's so bad about the Gottwaldians?"

"Who are the Econoclards?"

"What about Cindy, is she part of the group?"

"Did you say something about *turnips*?"

"I've heard enough. Let's talk about something else."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "They're the most depressing school of communism. They love writing long books with a patina of Mazovian theory to cover up their cheap psychologising."

ECHO MAKER - "A gang of cheap psychologists and intellectual midgets." His companion sneers. "Typical Gottwalders, in other words."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "It's okay for Uli to say that because his dad is from Gottwald."

"What's so depressing about their theories?"

"What's so bad about psychologising?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "The Gottwald School believe that intellectuals as a class are incapable of sparking revolutionary change, so all they can do is *critique* capitalism from inside itself."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - In other words, they have lost faith in their own relevance.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "That's why they spend all their time smoking cigarettes and writing long works of criticism that make you want to commit suicide."

"That sounds miserable."

"Sounds rewarding, actually."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "It *is* miserable. That's probably why they're always committing suicide."

2. "What's so bad about psychologising?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Do you think all the problems in the world can be reduced to repressed sexual urges?"

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - No, of course not. That's reductive in the extreme.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - One-thousand percent, yes.

"Probably not."

"Speaking from experience, definitely."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Well, there you have it. You're not a Gottwaldian, then."

"You see, the Gottwald School look like communists, they talk like communists, but scratch the patina and you'll see beneath that they're just depressed liberals who've read too many books."

2. "Okay, but what about the Econoclards?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "For starters, they love talking about *beans*."

"*Beans*?"

"What's wrong with beans? I like beans."

"No beans for me. Can't stand the stuff."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "That's right. Econoclards are *obsessed* with beans. They love thinking about beans, they love counting beans, but most of all, they love building models to predict how many beans there'll be *in the future*."

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - Nota bene: 'Econoclard' is an extra-pejorative form of the already pejorative name 'Mazovian Economists', a moderate school of Mazovianism, which advocates a gradual transition to communism through carefully managed economic modernisation rather than violent social revolution.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "They're by far the most bean-centric school of communism."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - Ah yes, the much maligned bean counters, ensconced in their think-tanks and highrises, believing they can save the world through a series of incremental, assiduously technocratic reforms...

"I don't get it. Are the beans a *metaphor*?"

"But isn't it good to know how many beans there are?"

"What's wrong with making progress through moderate economic reforms?"

ECHO MAKER - "If only! They've got all the beans accounted for in their asset sheets, their quarterly budgets, their future projections. But for some reason there are never enough beans to go around, so we've just got to cut our bean rations in half..."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "... and next thing you know there are *budget cuts*, so now we've got to cut the bean rations in half *again*..."

"You see, Econoclards claim to be communists, but in reality they're just liberals with hard-ons for spreadsheets."

3. "And what about the liberals? Are they liberals, too?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Of course not. The only people who actually call themselves liberals are mouth-foaming reactionaries."

ECHO MAKER - "Basically indistinguishable from fascists. You'd need an x-ray machine to tell the difference."

4. "What about Cindy, is she part of the group?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Cindy is... how to describe her *role*..."

ECHO MAKER - "... something of an ideological auxiliary, perhaps."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Yes, that's exactly how I would put it. And naturally we support her radical counter-liberal aesthetics."

ECHO MAKER - "But she refuses to submit an essay, so we can't call her a member of the group *per se*."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "That doesn't stop her from using the room for studio space, of course."

5. "Did you say something about *turnips*?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - Another sigh. “It's an unfortunate story. You see, our ex-comrade Maurice is something of an economist...”

ECHO MAKER - “He’s studying macro- *and* micro-economics.”

KIM KITSURAGI - "Wow, a *real* intellectual, it sounds like." The lieutenant arches his eyebrows.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - “Right, so a few weeks ago we were discussing the extra-physical capabilities of the revolutionary state, and Maurice said... what were his exact words, Ulixes?"

ECHO MAKER - "It was unbelievable. He said, 'Turnips don't care if they're grown by communists, moralists, or welkin. They grow just the same'."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Basically, he was rejecting the whole foundation of infra-materialist theory."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - What is this *infra-materialist* business they keep blathering about? You've never heard of anything like it.

"Remind me what infra-materialist theory says about turnips again?"

Just go along with it.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Simply that *under suitably revolutionary conditions* crop yields naturally increase relative to non-revolutionary crops. Which Maurice somehow has the gall to deny."

ECHO MAKER - "Zuzanna said that he has been hanging out with some non-communists lately."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "For us the question boiled down to: 'If you don't even accept the basic ideas of Nilsen and infra-materialist theory, why are you in the reading group?'"

"I totally understand."

"I don't understand at all."

"So you expelled Maurice from the reading group over an argument about turnips?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Exactly. What educated person could believe that turnips grow at the same rate under capitalism *and* communism?"

ECHO MAKER - "It's a sad reflection on our educational institutions."

"So you expelled Maurice from the reading group over an argument about turnips?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Well, it wasn't so much that he was expelled..."

ECHO MAKER - "He just quit coming. We haven't seen him around for weeks."

6. "I've heard enough. Let's talk about something else."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Go ahead." The young man gives you a half-smile. His companion sniffs.

4. "What were you doing with those matchboxes just now?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - The young man frowns at the little pile of boxes on the floor.

"Nothing, just messing around until the meeting started."

INTERFACING [Easy: Success] - They're watching those matchboxes awfully intently for two guys who are just 'messing around.'

It's almost as though they were trying to create the most unstable structure they could...

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - With predictable results.

5. "Do I *know* you two from somewhere?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "I don't think so." The young man gives you a curious look. "Unless you've been hanging around the Cultural Studies faculty at the École Normale de Revachol..."

ECHO MAKER - "Perhaps he subscribes to 'La Fumée'."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - That's sarcasm. He does not expect you to subscribe to radical communist periodicals.

(Show them 'La Fumée'.) "Wait, *you* guys wrote for *this*?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "*You've* read our article?" For the first time since you've met the young man, words seem to desert him...

ECHO MAKER - "That I did not expect." His companion is blushing now, a sheepish grin on his face.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Well, don't keep us on tenterhooks! What did you think of the essay?"

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - The delicate egos on these boys! Even though you're just some cop they're desperate for your approval.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Hey! You're not just 'some cop', you've got highly developed critical faculties! Now's your chance to show them off.

"It was a good article. You should keep developing your ideas."

If we'd read the article *after* becoming the Art Cop, we might have had some more profound things to say.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Well, of course that's just an *initial foray* into the subject. We're hoping to return to it for a more substantial treatment next term..."

"In any case, I'm glad our piece found its audience. That's always the hope with these things, you know."

+5 XP

6. "Is the reading group accepting new members?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "We typically only accept new members once per semester. There's this whole *process*, with essays and presentations on assigned topics..." The young man turns to his companion.

"But given that we have some extra seating at the moment, I guess we could be convinced to expedite an application or two."

ECHO MAKER - "Steban, you can't be serious... for these gendarmes?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "I am serious. As materialists we've got to adapt to conditions as they are. Besides, he'll still need to pass the *interview portion* of the entrance process..." He turns back to you.

"... assuming he's even still interested, that is."

We can improve our chances on this Composure check, so let's back out of the conversation first.

7. "That's enough for tonight. Will you still be here if I have more questions?" [Leave.]

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Sure, we're here most every night." He shrugs. "Maybe we'll catch you again."

ECHO MAKER - "Sleep well, gendarme."

We can use this as an opportunity to look around the room.

Try not to think about the cracks spidering out across the floor...

"The communards didn't commit *enough* atrocities."

A rickety easel, surrounded by pots of gouache.

Cindy's, no doubt.

Could it be the *phasmid*? No, probably not.

This one says: "NO WAR BUT CLASS WAR!"

"Kind of chilly tonight, Uli."

"Don't worry, I'm sure your jacket will turn up."

This poster reads: "Under the cobblestones, communism!"

Mmmm, coffee...

At the bottom of the pot, an isle of black sludge rises from a shadowy sea.

RELFECTIVE CONSTRUCTION VEST

+1 Endurance: Safety first. -1 Reaction Speed: Impossible to miss.

A ludicrously reflective safety vest like those favoured by construction and road repair crews. Comes with a replaceable battery back. Makes you feel like a deep sea anemone.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "The gendarme returns." The young man turns to you. "What do you need?"

4. "I'm guessing these pots of gouache belong to Cindy?"

You have to be Art Cop to recognize the paint as gouache.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - He sighs. "Yeah, it's hers. She just sort of... moved it all in a few months ago."

ECHO MAKER - "She said if she's going to make truly radical art, she needs a suitably radical workspace."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "And I don't think she could afford rent at an actual studio."

"Do you like her art?"

"Now I'm wondering, what's the deal with this place?"

"Okay, let's move on."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Oh, sure. It's definitely *interesting*, I would say..."

"Hmmm, I guess you could call her latest stuff a sort of *counter-bourgeois calligraphy*. She's got a real taste for radical slogans."

ECHO MAKER - "It's too bad she hasn't developed the theoretical foundation to do truly radical work."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "I think she'll get there, though. She's still looking for a subject equal to her ambitions."

2. "Now I'm wondering, what's the deal with this place?"

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "'The deal'? At a fundamental level I guess you could call it the shattered bones of a dream crushed by capital."

LOGIC [Challenging : Success] - A feeble and hopelessly mixed metaphor.

ECHO MAKER - "That's really good, Steban. You should save that for an essay."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Thanks, Uli. When the idea is sound the words just sort of flow."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Yes, now keep developing the idea.

"Actually, I think that's a mixed metaphor."

"If this place is the shattered bones, that must make us the bone weevils."

"I heard these used to be luxury apartments. Million reál views, that sort of thing."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Mmm, yeah that's not bad."

ECHO MAKER - "Not as good as Steban's original idea, though."

3. "I heard these used to be luxury apartments. Million reál views, that sort of thing."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "That could be." He nods. "It would explain some of the more ornate detailing. But we're speaking in world-historical terms here. What this place *represents*, not what it merely *was*."

ECHO MAKER - His friend yawns, evidently bored by literal reality.

3. "Okay, let's move on."

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Go ahead." The young man gives you a half-smile. His companion sniffs.

7. [Composure - Impossible 17] Convince them you belong in the reading group.

+4 Somewhat bookish toad.

COMPOSURE [Impossible: Failure] - Is it getting warm in here? There seems to be a little pool of sweat forming in the depression of your lower back.

"Definitely not sweating, no sir. (Dab the sweat with your shirt.)"

It's because I don't do well in interviews.

COMPOSURE - Excellent work, now there's a dark handprint on the back of your shirt. Everyone will be able to see the evidence of your overactive sweat glands.

2. It's because I don't do well in interviews.

COMPOSURE - No, you're terrible at them. The thought of everyone looking at you, judging you, makes you want to heave, frankly...

-1 Morale

3. Why am I getting so worked up? They're just a couple of kids!

COMPOSURE - Let's be frank, they're probably way smarter than you. You bet they've read more books than you can even name...

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Of course, if you're nervous it wouldn't hurt to read another book or two.

COMPOSURE - The hardest part will just be working up the nerve to ask without soiling yourself.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Everything alright, gendarme? You look a little green about the gills..."

8. [Leave.]

[nellasbookplanet]

I just finished my playthrough of me2, and as I put off the overlord and arrival dlcs until the end of it my thoughts on them are very fresh and Must be aired.

The frustrating thing is, they didn’t have to suck. The gameplay, like the shadowbroker dlc, is fun and stands out from the rest of the game! The story and themes of 'how far will you go in sacrificing individual lives in the name of winning a war/stopping extinction' fits well with the overall narrative and emphasis on hard choices! I mostly enjoy them! Only, overlord is completely undone by gross ableism, and arrival doesn’t actually let you engage with the choice it sets up; it fully forces your hand, and then makes the whole thing feel pointless by just having the reapers show up for a surprise attack in the next game anyway. It’s a trolley problem that doesn’t actually let you control the lever and then derails the entire train to hit both tracks no matter what you do.

So, how do you fix arrival? Personally, I would probably keep in the loss of the batarian colony as inevitable, but change the focus. As it is, barely a moment is spared to let it sink in that you're about to end 300 000 lives, and the only 'choice' you get is whether you attempt to (futilely) warn them in a blink and you'll miss it scene. I would've at a minimum added dialogue options where Shepard/the player could’ve expressed anger at how this work could’ve gone on for as long as it did without a warning being sent long before. For a bigger change, that could’ve led into a major conflict: a paragon Shepard trying to warn the colony, while her opponents argue that doing so would jeopordize the project/the hidden base and tries to stop her as part of the final fight of the dlc. If you choose to warn and do it in time, perhaps some small amount of people make it out, with the majority of the colony still being destroyed to keep the tone of sacrifice. If you want to keep it real dark, everyone dies no matter how hard you try to save them, but you should at least have been given the option to seriously try even if it’s hopeless.

But there isn’t really a workaround for how part of the problem with arrival is a problem with the batarians: had the colony been human, turian, or asari, most players would likely have been more upset because those are our allies. The batarians, however, are a one-note species never portrayed as anything other than slavers, criminals, and terrorists. While other species are allowed horrific acts while still being portrayed as complex people capable of both good and bad (need I remind you of the first contact war, the krogan rebellion, the genophage, the quarian's attempted genocide of the geth, the geth's war against biological life, and so on), the player is given little to no reason to sympathize with batarians. Had they been made to feel like actual people while still our enemies from the start of the game, arrival would've felt more like the gut punch of sacrifice it was and less like it was off-handedly writing off a people everyone hates, anyway. There could’ve been a discussion of 'are you more willing to sacrifice those you don’t know/don’t like and what does it say about you; is this a sacrifice or is it selfish revenge with the greater good as cover (a discussion especially brought up if you take the renegade choice)' but instead it feels almost vindictive.

[zutaralesbian]

I recently re-read my own fic not all heroes wear capes and thought it would be fun to answer some questions for @shamelessdvdcommentary ❤️

(Questions and answers under the cut)

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

I wrote it back in 2020 for one of the rounds of the Shameless Big Bang. It’s a multi-chapter but a short one (only seven chapters and 37,560 words). I don’t quite remember how long it took me to finish it but it was at least four months I imagine, given I wrote it for the Big Bang and took up pretty much the entire time given.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

This is probably a bit spoilerish of an answer but back when the show was still airing, I talked a lot about Ian’s hero complex. It’s one of my favorite aspects of his character and it’s what initially morphed my idea of what his role is in this fic. (If you’ve read it, you know what I’m talking about).

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

It’s mostly told from Mickey’s POV but it does change to Ian’s from time to time too. I chose Mickey to take up the majority of it because I wanted Ian’s role in the story to be a bit more mysterious.

What was your favourite scene to write?

A scene in the middle of chapter two, where Ian and Mickey come together and talk about what split them apart. (The story is a post-S3 canon divergence with a twist). I remember really enjoying writing the dialogue between them in that scene because I love writing hurt/comfort. And I think the finished product turned out pretty good if I do say so myself.

(Off topic side-note but after re-reading that whole chapter, I realized that I wrote the sex scene to be much more explicit than I remembered. Which is strange for me because I’m usually only confident in writing sex between wlw ships. I normally go fade to black with Gallavich).

How did you come up with the title?

Titling is one of the hardest parts of writing fic for me, for some reason lmao. It literally just randomly came to mind. I think it’s corny but it goes with the theme of the story so 🤷‍♀️ I’m not good at titles so I can’t really be picky on that front.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

The action/fight scenes. Which sucked, considering the main plot of the fic lol. Writing those was like pulling teeth. But I pulled myself through, even though I don’t think they turned out all that great. I’m much better at writing emotional stuff.

Favourite line in the story?

“We were kids,” he clarified at Ian’s questioning expression. “And things were shit. We never stood a chance.”

It just sums up my feelings about S3 Gallavich tbh 😭

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

Not really during the writing process. But when I was first trying to plan it, I debated whether to make it a canon divergence (which is what it ended up being) or a straight up AU. I ended up doing what I did both for the angst factor of it being post S3 and because I personally find full on AU’s to be much harder to write than fics that are based at least somewhat on canon.

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

I’ve had a few people tell me that the fic “kept them guessing” as they read it. Which happily surprised me because while I was trying to be at least a little mysterious while writing, I didn’t really think I had succeeded. So I was proud of myself when a small amount of people validated me on that!

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

No specific scenes but I did originally envision a small interlude towards the end. Ian and Mickey hit a rough patch at some point in the fic because Mickey discovers a big secret that Ian kept from him. In the finished product, Mickey forgives Ian relatively quickly. At some point, it was going to be a more angsty and longer process. But I ended up not going in that direction because I felt like it would drag the story out a little too much.

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

In the story, Sandy (who plays a supporting role in the fic) and Debbie are exes and Sandy eventually dates an OC. Given that I’ve grown much fonder of Debbie over the years, I think I would give her an actual role and keep her and Sandy dating if I wrote it now.

I also would have done a better job at a certain flashback scene towards the end because, along with the action scenes, it’s one of the weaker parts of the story imo.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Nah. Maybe a one-shot sequel of sorts if inspiration ever hit.

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Very nervous! It was my first multi-chapter Gallavich fic and first time participating in a fandom event like a big bang.

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

Yes! Given that it was a big bang, I had a beta assigned to me. shame_less18 on ao3! And she did a fantastic job! (Not sure if she has a tumblr unfortunately). Part of the reason I chose this fic to do this commentary for is because I know it’s most likely the one with the least amount of errors for that reason lol.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

This is probably my favorite fic that I’ve written. (For Shameless anyway). Mostly because it was a lot of fun. My life was simpler back then and the Shameless/Gallavich fandom was fairly popping with S10 having just aired. I’ll always look at it fondly.

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2024-08-26

Documence...

Listening: Modest Mouse to fill some spaces. I am rather fond of This Is A Long Drive For Someone With Nothing To Think About so here's She Ionizes And Atomizes

Watching: Hosted a rare Good Movie Night, put on Baz Luhrmann's William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet, which is one of the best movies. It's so good. We had one person who hadn't seen it since school, and one person who had never seen it. Truly a great movie start to finish, more movies should just be Shakespeare plays!

I really like how it plays with line delivery, a lot of the Big Lines where a lesser performance would leave some space for a dipshit audience are brushed past in the context of their passages while other normally innocuous lines are elevated to an astounding degree. "Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo" is normally a pretty like, passing line, it's very easy to read it as part of the pre-game bickering of Mercutio and Tybalt, but here it marks the point where the game changes from idle banter to a serious accusation. A simply inspired line read.

I'm a huge tragedy lover. It's great how many times a character looks up and goes "hey does anyone else feel doomed". Yo these violent delights are coming to an end anyone know what comes next?

Reading: I have been occupied with obsessing over Documents so I have had Baru Cormorant on hold. Instead, mostly various blogs. One of interest is They Don't Make Readers Like They Used To

This is interesting especially since I've been the main sounding board for @thosearentcrimes reading lately and it makes some interesting points that might be wrong, as is common for this blog.

The key thesis is that readers engage more with the works they read now, but also they are more likely to challenge those works on their fundamentals, rather than anchoring themselves directly in the author's words first.

Some of this is definitely just that more people engage with media now, and it's more visible, is part of it, but that is also kind of the thing it's pointing at. More people are able to engage with media like this who would, I guess, have normally had to become writers in order to express these thoughts. Some of them did!

Playing: Tactical Breach Wizards is out! I am about halfway through the campaign.

It's very a tight tactical combat strategy game, especially if like me you are trying to be quick and efficient with your turns. You can absolutely kite enemies around a level for round upon round if you wanted to in most levels but it feels bad and it will eventually chip you down.

Because you can rewind within each turn but not successive turns you are kind of encouraged to keep your turns dense in action and low in number so that if you need to go back you aren't throwing away dozens of turns of state. Most levels pan out in 1-5 turns, which is small enough that you can memorize every action you took even with a larger squad.

The writing is Tom Francis Standard, mostly snappy quips, but the additional dialogue compared to, say, Gunpoint gives it some room to get a little more earnest. Which is nice.

Making: Bleh.

Tools and Equipment: Live Captions for Linux is an interesting little application that runs a CPU-based live transcription model locally to transcribe whatever is coming through your speakers, or whatever's coming in on the mic.

I've had it sitting on my computers transcribing podcasts, which I often listen to by routing my phone's bluetooth audio via the PC I'm sitting at. It provides a reasonably good glanceable transcript as well as a transcription history that is handy if I lose focus for a second. Rather than rewinding I can just take a look and see what I missed.

[ripplestitchskein]

I've been binge reading your Helluva Boss and Stolitz posts for a while now and I love how mature and nuanced your takes are. I've run into a good deal too many Stolitz antis on Twitter who won't give Stolas and Blitzo's relationship a chance to improve later, despite the show clearly trying to do just that. I'm especially tired of people saying that their relationship is one-sided. And even when actual evidence is put out there that Blitzo actually does like Stolas back, they say it doesn't count because those hints are less than 5 second long small details rather than being spoonfed to them. Just argued with one of them on Twitter like an hour ago and that's exactly what they said. And they accused ME of not paying attention because in their mind, Stolitz was built up from sexual assault, and they think Blitzo's line in Western Energy "He can get hurt?" is somehow out of character which confused the hell out of me, and they kept insisting that Blitzo had "zero interest" in Stolas no matter what.

Thank you so much!! I do try my best to be as rational and logical as possible so I’m glad it’s coming through, not to say I don’t have emotionally based reactions or bias but in my meta analysis I try to set my personal feelings about the text presented aside and just talk about what it could potentially mean based on recurring elements, themes, and deliberate choices made throughout not just in individual scenes.

LooLoo Land is a perfect example, there are some moments in that episode I heavily dislike (Blitzø shoving the dolls down his pants, the “as long as she washes it” convo, and Stolas being sexually inappropriate in front of his kid) so I do understand some of the criticism. It was also episode two and being a creative myself I know firsthand that things like that happen. You put in things early, for a joke, a laugh, to highlight personalities and they don’t necessarily come across the way you intended or jive with where the story ends up. Which is why a lot of my analysis takes in the entirety of what we have so far, the recurring stuff, not just individual moments or one off lines.

I’ve always maintained that it’s crucial to remember that creators are not perfect beings who are getting their story from on high fully formed, they make mistakes, they get inspired and take things in a different direction as things develop, they can contradict themselves over time. It happens.

It’s also a cartoon so it’s limited in how much it can even do, how expressive the characters can be, how much time they have to explore and the medium absolutely comes into play when analyzing it. Art has always been and will always be subjective, and unless the creator flat out contradicts something it’s largely left to interpretation, but that interpretation cannot be based on one scene, or one episode, or a one off bit of dialogue or a single expression either.

I always encourage not wasting your time arguing with people who are still serving up early content talking points or who dont have media literacy as a learned skilled. I know it’s super hard, I’m guilty of it myself. I was so close to going off on a “Stella and Stolas are mutually abusive” take last night you have no idea. It was more the dude was just being deliberately obtuse to the point I stopped myself and was like “they have to be trolling, no way someone believes this”. You can’t change their minds, they obviously don’t want to engage with the material from a place of good faith, and it just bums you out at the end of it.

A lot of them are really young too I find, which may be part of the disparity. I’m 38 so I have a lot of different experiences to draw from they haven’t had yet. I’ve been a fandom girl since I was a kid, I’ve always been a shipper and I also create things so my perspective is further down the line and with lived experience some people don’t have yet. I’m reminded of this daily, my oldest son is 18 and we have many conversations where I’m reminded about how much you learn as you grow older and the assumptions you make as a younger person. This is not to say that younger people can’t think critically but it is a skill and it improves over time like any other.

I also encourage people to think of what is being said and why. There is a lot of hate for VivziePop as a person. My understanding is she said some things early on and created a hate base that is going to deliberately misinterpret just to validate their initial assumptions about her motive and character. With popular things there is always a small subset that hate a show because of its popularity too, I don’t think because they are jealous like some speculate but because they didn’t personally enjoy it and don’t like feeling like they are missing something, so they take it in a “it must be the children who are wrong” Principal Skinner approach. They can’t see why people love it so those people must be ignoring what they didn’t like about it and they must tell them.

Sometimes people like another ship or another character more, and their ship might involve one half of yours, or they don’t feel their character is getting the same focus and attention because of yours. So instead of just letting everyone enjoy their own things it’s now a competition, a source of resentment and they must make that everyone else’s problem.

And I’ve talked about the fascistic purity culture that seems to encroach into fiction spaces as well that is also at heavily play. Any time a character does anything that is vaguely “toxic”, “problematic” they are immediately painted with the SA brush, the creator is promoting it and the fans are enabling it and are somehow directly responsible for it existing in the world. You can’t do anything about them except enjoy what you like, look at it critically within your own personal comfort level, and as always, my favorite thing to say “kill the cop in your head.” Not just with fiction but everything.

I’m glad my analysis is being enjoyed, and I super appreciate your feedback on it. Come to my inbox anytime and we’ll enjoy the ride together!