#What does the title sequence tell us

[guiltyspark242]

So what do we think about the title sequence? We know it includes lots of easter eggs and nods to bits within the season which I'm sure have been pored over and dissected plenty but the simplest thing on show during the titles for me is Crowley leading the whole way.

Even right up to heaven. Why would Crowley be leading the way to heaven and not Aziraphale?

We know in S1 they swapped places in the intro repeatedly, is S3 going to be Aziraphales turn to lead the way?

Anyway, no fully formed thoughts on this, just needed to write it down and I’ll hopefully revisit it later.

[kithtaehyung]

minted (explicit) | myg

title: minted (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , suspense , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: this series may not be for everyone, language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, tension, slow burn, choking, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, slight e2l, fight sequences, multiple future explicit scenes, yoongi deserves his own warning, chains but who is ever ever shocked, graphic depictions of violence drop date: august 5th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.4k aiyaaa✌ mood playlist: here

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Ever since you could remember, gang activity in your town has run unchecked. 

Anything goes. Rough fights out of nowhere, car chases busting streets, or even random delinquents snatching food on the run, dust kicking up onto stock they left behind. 

And out of all the districts, yours is begrudgingly the second worst. 

Why? You still aren’t completely sure. But you do know that the darkest is reserved for the underbelly that only slithers in rumors. A place in which you will never find yourself. 

But you do wonder what must happen there to warrant the winning title because each day here is a battle to keep yourself afloat. 

All you do is sell fruit. Why are you fighting for your life every week? Why can’t you exchange goods for money in peace? If you could compare it to the movies you grew up watching on an outdated television, it’s a grungy reflection of the wild west.

But through all the shit you’ve chosen to endure, at least one person is always kind enough to buy his wares and go.

And today is no different.

You still don’t know his name. But you yearn to. Because his hair is the color of magic and rebellion, and his tattoos really set off that bright mop of locks. 

If those lethal, piercing eyes weren’t enough.

When he lifts three long digits, it takes all your strength to nod and get his purchase together. This is the part that never changes, either.

Just like always. One, three, or five fingers for tangerines. Never two, never four, and never any other fruits. 

It’s charming, in a way. As if he’s more particular than most about what he wants—a trait elusive to many.

Like clockwork, you would hand his order over in thin plastic, and he would walk away to hitch a ride on a passing cart. Just like he does right now with a lazy gait, white tee billowing from his jeans. 

Another day. Another exchange.

In the wavy heat of summer, you sigh. Wondering if anything is ever going to change, and if you would ever get to know more about your most frequent, most mysterious patron.

After a while, you do try talking to him. 

Those looks of confusion slowly turn into little hums or grunts, then into single words that keep you going for days. Even though you rarely hear it, his voice is just as attractive as he is. 

One day, you offer him a plantain, handing it over and telling him it’s on the house. 

“Thanks,” he says amongst the clinks and conversations of the street, pocketing the food away. 

When he does, you see a flash of black metal, and you already know what he’s carrying. You’re used to seeing all sorts of those around nowadays. In this district, you’d be shocked if he didn’t have an arsenal on his person while traveling through.

Besides. Even you have a couple collecting dust in your own flat, handed down by extended family but never used.

“If you ever need anything other than tangerines,” you start with a point to his pants, “Please buy those instead.” 

He’s unmoving. Blinks are all you get so you have no choice but to explain,

“I’m so tired of eating them with everything.” 

When he huffs in amusement, your heart flutters thrice. There’s no reason for a sheen of sweat and sticky mint locks to be so deadly. 

“Then eat something else,” is all the stranger advises before walking off. 

Well.

Even though you don’t have much of a choice, the guy does have a point. You wouldn’t be shocked in the slightest if his aim’s just as straightforward as his wit.

Once one exchange lasts longer than a sentence, the two of you start little conversations during his visits. Which prove more fatal than normal since he’d rest his tattoos on the top shelf of your cart. 

From what you can make out, there are creatures stretching in beautiful teal and vivid orange, and even striking white on his other arm. They ripple so well with his veins, a canvas that sways and hypnotizes with every drum of his fingers. 

You know what they symbolize, though it’s unique to have all of them together. 

Taboo, even. 

But you can’t hold back your admiration because of the sheer beauty. What would they feel like if you just… 

“You always stare this long?”

Shit. “Oh, sorry. I just… I rarely see anyone’s ink up close.”

To your dismay, he takes his arm back. “I don’t have a lot of time today, princess.”

“Right, sorry. Hold on,” you respond, cringing hard at blurting two apologies in a ten second span. 

Meanwhile, your way too handsome regular cocks a brow, clearly comfortable making you squirm as you hand over his bag. 

Effortless. In your chaotic life, It’s almost intoxicating feeling someone this resolute in their whole demeanor. If only you could be so commanding and assured one day. 

But here you stand instead, pretending to count fruit you one hundred percent know the stock of already. “Your art is really nice, by the way,” you admit to your inventory. “All the high-powers. I like what you picked.”

“Didn’t choose these.”

Ah. Way to assume things. 

Raising your head, you make to apologize a third time.

But he’s already retreating with his tangerines, hand stuffed in a pocket and beautiful waves a little less vibrant than you recall. 

“What.” 

“I worry sometimes.” 

His gaze lifts. “About me?” 

“Yeah.” 

You don’t know why you choose to say that of all things. But it’s honest. You always wonder about him and think about the weapon in his jeans. Does he use it? Does he ever need to? 

Maybe you should pick up a hobby or two.

Fingers resting dangerously close, he asks with a tilt of his head, “What would you do, doll? If something happened to someone like me.” 

Someone like him? What does that mean? 

Great. Now you have even more to wonder about, as if he knew that was your exact predicament.

You stare, roaming along his arms before meeting his eyes—almost. “Find someone else to buy my tangerines.” 

Huffing, his brows tick up with his mouth. “I respect that.” His attention doesn’t leave your face as he slowly takes his purchase. “See ya.” 

“Bye,” you whisper back, watching him go. More thoughts and concerns bouncing around your mind in the sticky heat of midday. 

These little nicknames he’s using also aren’t helping your issue in the slightest. 

It starts when you hear shouting from a block down.

“Here they come!”

“Bunch of idiots this time.”

“What do you mean this time?”

Rough raiders this early? They should know it’s almost time for Dragon’s sweep. Bold.

After you hear the telltale yells, clanks, and bangs, your section of the street braces for impact. 

And it swoops in like a whirlwind, ruffians tearing through, pillaging and stealing and swiping goods into thick woven baskets. 

Baskets? The usual suspects always carry leather bags. You assume because of their sturdiness and inconspicuous nature, but what do you really know.

Here it goes again. 

As your fruit is taken right from your cart, you sink to your toes, mourning the regular loss of your menu.

No use fighting. Like every other time, you all let it happen because there’s no point in trying to protect anything that isn’t valuable. Perishables and small homemade goods aren’t worth getting gutted over. Truly, the worst losses you suffer are when—

Your cart shifts violently before thieves topple it over, cracking one of your wheels and splitting the wooden boards in three places.

Springing to your feet, you douse the perpetrators in anger, “What the hell!”

“Oh, this was yours?” Someone chides while his cronies run past. “Thanks for the oranges, love!”

“They’re tangerines!” you correct at his retreating back, kicking your cart before yelping at your bad decision. “Damn it…”

Back to your knees you go. Head drooping, arms encircling, and disappointment pooling around like a shadow.

More shouts and feet in the road rampage through. Then it gets quieter. And quieter. 

Then it’s done.

After silence swells in the wake of chaos, groans start making their way down the street. 

“What’d they get from you this time,” you ask your neighbor, a charming old man selling anything from bowls to wide, round frying pans. 

Looking over his little wreckage, he blinks hard. “They got my woks. Nothing as bad as yours. You okay?” 

Walking over to help clean his mess up first, you bend down with a sigh, “I’ll be alright. But it still sucks.. My poor tangerines..” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Not much to do about it now,” you resign, all your energy taken from you, too. 

A little bit of time passes as you complete your usual round of help, though this raid was worse than others. As they all give their thanks, you keep thinking about how to make the whole situation better. Moreso for them than you because you’ve always been one of the least vulnerable ones on the block.

“You should find another place to sell, dear.” 

In disagreement, you slip into a saddened smile. “I can’t leave you guys,” you explain to the lady you’re holding pails for. “Who will help clean everything up?” 

“Don’t underestimate your elders now.” 

“Fair,” you respond through a chuckle, handing her one of the metal buckets. “If only better protection was an option around here.”

“You know the rules,” another shop owner drones through lingering spices, “Dragon won’t protect us if it isn’t in their own interests.” 

Unfortunately, he’s right. Every single raid that hasn’t coincided with a gang sweep goes overlooked. Even the city police don't bother coming down your street anymore, which is another issue in itself.

If only Tiger or Crane had been the high-powers in place instead. 

At least they seem to be more fair.

After you finish helping, you finally venture back to your own cart, realizing that the trek is a lot further than you thought. 

Did you really walk so far this time? The damage was dealt for much more than a block at this point. 

Not like you need to sprint back, though. What’s left to steal? Everything you got swept into those woven containers.

Still so odd…

But not as odd as the sight that greets you on your return. 

Because instead of seeing your wreckage of a cart tilted and abysmal, it’s upright and being mended.

By none other than your favorite set of hands.  

What the hell? What’s he doing here? You quite literally have nothing to give so there’s no reason for him to spare a second at your broken stand. 

Fast-walking, you hastily try to halt his help, “Oh, shit, you don’t have to—” 

“Course I don’t.” 

That shuts you up. In your split second of silence, you note with agony that his hair is messily tied in a minted bun. Are his sleeves bunched at his biceps, too? Great. What were you even telling him again? 

Ah, yes. You were telling this mystery of a man that he doesn’t have to literally put your stand back together. “Seriously, I got it.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” 

“But it’s my cart, I don’t need your—”

With one look over his shoulder, your mouth snaps shut. And suddenly can’t move to argue again. 

What the hell is up with today? 

Forget all that. What’s he doing? At least you’re familiar with all the shop owners and vendors on your block, though you can’t say you wouldn’t do the same thing for someone you don’t know. But this guy has always been so standoffish and barely approachable. So how is he lending both hands to help you right now? 

Whatever. If he’s gonna be as stubborn as this heat, you can be, too. 

Scanning the area for scattered tools, you find a sun-warmed hammer and get to work, fixing one end of the cart while he works on the other. When you feel his gaze on your working shoulder, it takes massive strength to ignore him—even if you wanna know what his issue is and why he smells really, really good this afternoon.

Looks like you need more nails for this board to fit. When your eyes find a couple on the ground, you clinch a second piece between your teeth while hammering in the first. 

Sounds stop at your side, but you wait until you pluck the metal nail from your mouth and stamp it in to look over.

Oh. He’s eyeing the hammer. Not you. Obviously. 

You wordlessly hand it over, arm slicked with exertion. Because after the day you’ve had, you don’t feel like everything needs a spoken sentence attached. 

It takes the guy a bit to take it from you, but when he does, he holds your stare. “Thanks.” 

You simply nod, eyes sticking to him as he works on the tattier side wait it looks almost new. Better than it has in a very long time. Did he really get that much done in the time you were gone? There’s been great care taken during his repair if that’s the case.  

Hmm. You finally learn something about your favorite customer. Maybe he’s just been a mechanic or carpenter this whole time? 

Contemplative, you get up on sore legs to walk to your cooler—something thankfully missed by the rough raiders. Digging through the clinkage, you retrieve a local beer you recently procured from the restaurant across the street. 

It’s not much. Absolute bottom shelf. But it’s all you got other than a few pieces of oni-coin, so he’s gonna have to deal with it.

When you offer the glass, your regular eyes it for a moment. More than enough time for you to get a good look at his striking floral top.

Well. Mechanic and carpenter are out of the question because that one piece of clothing looks more expensive than your entire apartment building.

Who even is this guy? Now you feel destitute handing him something so cheap.

Just when you think he’s gonna refuse, he takes the beer and smoothly shucks it open, suddenly making you wonder how a bracelet can do that and why it was so attractive.

God. You need to walk straight to the nearest inlet stream and dunk your head right in.

“Thank you,” you whisper, gulping at his full swigs. “You really didn’t have to do all this.” 

“Got some time to kill,” he shrugs. Standing, the man takes another sip, peering along the street with sunlit eyes. With the bottle near his mouth, he murmurs, “You really need to set up somewhere else, doll. This street’s turning into a hot spot.” 

Squinting up at the long lines of clothes and curtains floating in the breeze, you sigh at the building nearest. “I live close,” you sulk. “And this is the easiest place to get to.” 

Those are excuses. Just tell him the real reason you won’t venture out and plop yourself somewhere more profitable. Well, maybe not all of the reasons, but the main one. 

Leaning back on your cart, you stare at the loose dirt, swiping some with your shoes. “Maybe I’m just used to it at this point.” 

He won’t respond. Or he’ll respond in his own way, which is mostly silence. 

But a bright strand falls over his face before he hums, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Many people have warned you at this point. It’s basically your stubborn and spiteful nature that’s making you stay in the first place. Why would you move when you chose to be here? Why leave a place you actively choose to call home? 

Fighting spirit quelled, you nod right to your stand as you count what’s salvageable. “I know, but I like it here.” When he lifts an unbelieving brow, you look away. “It’s true. But trust me, if there was a way to just make it all stop, I’d take it.” 

He takes another swig, both of you looking into the street and watching things slowly get back to normal pace. Adults and kids alike are back to wandering around, buying what’s left and offering condolences. 

“I’m not fixing another cart,” your patron turned repairman grunts, motioning to your wheel as he steps back. “So don’t fuck this one up.” 

Huh? It wasn’t your fault! All the accidents and chaos that blow through aren’t something you can control oh he’s grinning. Why is he grinning? Why do you feel hot all over? 

His teeth shine in daylight. “I’m messing with you.” 

Ah. 

This version of him is not good for you at all.

When he starts to walk away, you blurt out a quick, “Wait!” 

Shit! Why did you do that? What are you possibly supposed to say right now? All you wanted was to see him a little longer… And while staring at his backside would be more than enough, you kinda wanted to actually talk. 

What do you do? He stopped; he’s waiting. 

And he looks impatient as hell. 

Snapping into action, you round your cart and trot over, offering your name as if you didn’t just give up where you lived. 

Then—without thinking—you ask for his with the most curious, innocent, “What’s yours?” 

Silence has never been so booming.

In the dusty swirls of your street, you wait with a back that’s getting sweatier and colder with each passing second. 

Was that not okay to ask? Did you fuck up with a single question? 

Perfect. You just blew your one good thing about being out here. Wincing, you crush your words so hard you think your teeth will break into dust, drifting off into the very breeze wafting his striking locks. 

After a condescending puff, he only smirks.

Then he takes one step. And another. And another.

The air around you melts, weighing on your shoulders while lighting them aflame all at once. It’s a feeling you can’t describe to anyone else, because they would just need to stand next to this man to believe it. 

Checking to see if the street is clear, your best customer leans over. Slowly. Purposefully. “Yoongi,” he offers with a voice so handsome you’ll think about it for days. “But don’t fucking tell anyone.” 

Oh. 

Why did… you kinda like that? 

Blinking, you swallow. “I won’t.” 

This is when he’s supposed to just leave. He’d walk away, bag swinging with his strides. But ever keeping you on your sore toes, the man just chuckles low before rasping out the most devilish sentence in existence, 

“Always took you for a good girl.”

Then he backs away, turning on his heel and leaving you a statue in the street.

Yoongi. 

For a hardened soul, his name is so… 

Tender. 

For the next sixty days, you don’t get ransacked once. 

But there’s also been no sight of Yoongi. 

As the weeks trudge by, you can’t decide which outcome is worse.

The skies are magnificent today. But obviously at a molten price.

“Thank you for trying,” you say to a lovely wares owner before venturing back out into simmering streets. Exhaling, you wipe sweat from your brow, squinting before choosing to walk left or right. 

Left seems promising. 

You’ve been searching for hours now, perusing through shops, checking out vendors both nice and catty. But after a whole day’s search, you still haven’t found what you’re looking for. 

It’s nothing urgent or pressing. But you would at least like to be prepared. 

Since your initial mission is a bust, hopefully your next one makes up for it before you melt right into gravel and dirt.

Find a meal.

Walking along the busy roads, you pass a few options and keep them in mind, making sure to greet a fellow tangerine cart vendor with a smile. Hopefully they do well today.

A couple steps further, a giant cooler catches your eye. Seafood of all types lie inside along cubes of ice, and you weigh the pros and cons of smelling like fish just to have a cool head.

But before you can make any choices, the smell of spices and hearty soup softly pull your feet inside the restaurant nearby. 

What’s here? Noodles? You’re always down for that. Apparently even in scorching weather.

After ordering, you take your seat at a random middle table in a chair facing the entrance. 

Always facing the entrance.

Damn. You really need to accomplish what you set out to do. But sunset is fast approaching these days, and you aren’t anywhere close to home. All you have time for now is eating and heading out. 

The service here is quick, at least. You’re already thanking the owner for sliding a bowl in front of your sweaty form. 

With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 

Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back by now, freshly showered and curling up on a worn down bed. 

But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 

Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching sliced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 

At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 

Ambiance. 

Wait. 

Dragons. A lot of them. 

You can’t pull your eyes away from the crew walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun in their eyes and donning their telltale, striking teal. 

But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that truly has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 

…Yoongi? 

His jacket. The colors.

He’s in Dragon?

Suddenly his hair makes terrifying sense.

As his guys stalk through, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do with this harrowing information. There are so many thoughts overlapping each other that they all amalgamate into one huge batch of sludge. 

Aren’t you smack dab in Crane territory? There’ve been white suits peppering the streets everywhere. 

So what the hell is Dragon doing here?

From the slight confusion pinching his forehead, you know Yoongi didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 

Hold on, what—

“What are you—”

A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 

All of them waste no time tearing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending with gritty paint and smoke. 

And just like that, your reunion is over. 

Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—

A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 

Shit. 

Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 

Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 

Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.

Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 

Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here? 

With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 

Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase. 

Shit shit shit this is so stupid. This is probably the worst decision you’re gonna make in your life.

But your gut is churning thinking about Yoongi. Even a seasoned swordsman needs expertise to wield mere chopsticks and win. 

Fuck, if you succeeded in your search today, you probably could’ve been a little more useful. 

Swiping your own set of red from a nearby cup, you hightail it up, slowing as you round a corner and immediately hear multiple clangs and scuffles beyond the last turn.

Stop. You can go back. You can still turn around and go home.

An inhale.

Your feet propel you up and into a dark hall. As you slowly slide along the wall, your gut churns and churns. At a bang, you crouch with a skipped beat of your heart.

This is really, really dumb. But you can’t stop yourself and you have no clue why.

Nothing happens around you. So you keep going. With each careful slide of your foot, you get closer and closer to the noise.

Approaching the corner, you very slowly stick your head out for a peek.

And it’s pure commotion. Pure chaos. Holy shit, what is going on? 

Fuck, there’s already a body lying limp on the floor meters away—

Your chopsticks. You wanna hurl.

But a man flies out of a room ahead before he grips and wrestles with another, and you reel yourself back to avoid being seen by either one.

Where is Yoongi? Is he okay? Did he leave already?

You give one more peek, scanning the long raucous corridor as swift as you can to see any sign of.. Mint.

He’s still here. How’s he just walking so nonchalant as his crew fucks shit up? Crap, he just went into a room and out of sight. 

“Where’d they go?”

“Upstairs!”

Fuck, that was in the restaurant! Get up get up you have no choice but to hide now. 

With pounding steps, you rush forward and book it, entering a large room to dive behind some steel shelving and large, woven baskets right as more Dragons come in behind with fists clenched.

Breathe. Steady. Calm the fuck down.

The grunts rush to the hallway to join the fray, and you wait in the now pungent solitude of your room. With only a still body to accompany you. 

What do you do? What even can you do? 

Just as nerves grip your stomach like a vice, Yoongi strides into the open area, heading right for the exit and not even sparing his kill a glance. 

Go. Go now. Why can’t you move? Why aren’t your hands letting go of your cold confinement? It smells like death and blood and you need to leave with the only person you know—or don’t—so why can’t your feet just fucking���

Someone else slithers into the room. A man in brown with a knife. A knife, a knife, a knife he’s getting faster and Yoongi doesn’t hear him the guy is too quiet fuck! “Yoongi!” 

It all happens before your brain can paint the bloody picture. Shooting out from your hiding spot, you race towards the assassin, slamming into their lanky build just in time.  

Both of you topple to the ground, your target roaring in pain and twisting like hell to fight back fuck you didn’t get him how you needed to he’s got you—

Pain erupts in your hip as you’re grabbed, the room spinning as you’re thrown to the side and your ear hitting concrete right before chopsticks ping down. Thinking quick, you knee the guy as hard as you can, scrambling to finish the job because if you don’t, you’re gone gone gone.

“Bitch!” Your opponent clutches your shirt right as you reach for the nearest red pair, seizing your throat right as you grip and swing them around to stab the other side of his neck with a yell.

Luckiest timing of your life. 

“Hng!” Fuck, he’s still holding down hard and choking, choking, squeezing. “Fuck you!” 

Fight back. Keep the weapon inside he’s too strong finish him finish him. 

Darkness. Ink drops in water. Your vision taints as your grip loosens, and you can only hope that Yoongi got away safe. He had to. At least you… Were able to do… 

This one thing… 

…

Oxygen and life rush back into your lungs, color burning through your esophagus as you gasp for sweet sweet air. Right as you come to, all you witness is the heavy heel of a boot twisting the forearm latched onto you. 

And when the shoe leaves your vision. Lifeless eyes stare back.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck that was close. Oh god. You actually did it. Oh fuck. 

Coughing, you rush up as you get tugged and pulled right against chains and embroidery, your ears ringing with a gravelly command and glass breaking in the nearby corridor,

“Don’t say my fuckin’ name so loud.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Yoongi roughly lets you go before pinning you with pure anger. Not to say thank you. Not to tell you any words of gratitude at all. The only other thing he finds the need to say is simply, 

“You shouldn’t be up here.” 

What the fuck. You just murdered someone for him and this is all you get? Eyes welling, you feel your body slick and sticky with crimson when you turn, coughing and spitting out regret before you wheeze, wheeze, wheeze, “That’s—that’s all you have to say?” 

Dread swirls around your stomach like poison.

But the sternness from before completely vanishes as Yoongi lifts your chin. His eyes scan your throat and chest, and you rip your head away from his touch because he is not excused just yet. 

“It’s not mine,” you snap, knowing exactly what he’s looking for and what you must look like to him. Dirty. Gross. Certainly a far image from the girl selling tangerines.

But your face is gently held again, and somehow this softer turn carries more strength to swivel you forward. 

Why is Yoongi still looking? Now he’s holding your gaze as if he’s never seen you before. What’s that about? You’re still the same, the same, the same.

…Are you?

More crashes and shots are heard down the hall, and Yoongi snaps his head up in an instant. 

God, you smell. You reek. Your nose is tainted and your hands even more so. There’s no way he’s gonna have anything to do with you now. 

But you get the shock of the century when the man commands you to come along. “Let’s go.” 

Absolutely not. This is all you got in you for a lifetime. “What? No, no, no. No way, I’m going home.”

“And they’ll follow you the whole way back.” 

“I—I didn’t mean to—” 

Shots ring out before grunts barrel out into the short hallway. All of them piling out from crevasses and hidden passages. 

You give one more look at the two men now crumpled on the ground, bile rising up and threatening to spill. 

“Tough shit, princess. You did, now live with it.” 

Live with it. How poetic. 

You were protecting him. You did what you had to do. But you have blood on your hands again and now Yoongi will see you as something else besides a fucking street vendor. 

“Are you coming or not?”

You’re gonna puke your guts out.

With a stilted cry, you bend to snatch your weapons up yet again—gagging at the squelches and much deeper red—before following Yoongi’s long steps. 

Your hands. They’re shaking so bad you can’t even pocket the chopsticks properly. But you finally get them down, crushing your palms and squeezing just to stop them from rattling. 

When you wait behind Yoongi checking the corner, you turn around to make sure you aren’t being followed. And seeing the hallway still a moving mass of broken glass and hard swings, you think you’re safe. 

The stairs feel so different on the way down. Is that because you feel completely changed? There’s no coming back from this. Another side of you died right alongside those two people upstairs. 

No time to think about that. You have to follow his lead. And he’s slowing down why is he slowing down? 

Oh. Normal. Be normal to not garner suspicion. You have to do the same. 

Wait. You can’t go down there with a shirt full of stained evidence! Grabbing him and pulling back, you whisper, “Yoongi—”

His growl is so fierce your head spins, “What the fuck did I say about my n—”

“My clothes,” you panic. “I can’t.” 

Yoongi gives you a quick look before gripping the duffle strap. Brows lowered, he grits out while dumping it, “Lose the shirt.” 

“What?” 

“Do it.” 

“Where’d he go?”

“It’s gone!”

Your heads snap up before you lock eyes. And he doesn’t need to say anything to show you what he’s thinking behind those minted bangs.

As you hastily strip, your brain works in weird ways. Instead of processing how you very much need to hurry the fuck up, you lament the bra of choice today. And how sweaty you look. Because of course those are your thoughts of choice right now. 

Something’s dumped on you before your shirt hits the ground, and you think about its warmth before you realize exactly what’s on your shoulders. “You sure?” 

He’s already heading down. Oh god. You’re really putting this on shit shit shit. 

You’re quick to slip into the material before checking for your chopsticks, rushing down the rest of the stairs to meet him. Nerves firing on all cylinders, you follow Yoongi out of the restaurant with a single, disturbing thought. 

This is going too well. 

But you’re passing tables, you’re walking by the fish display, don’t fucking sob you’re out in the street now. 

Relax. You’re walking. His white tee is flawless and people have no clue you left a bloody shirt on a stairwell. Don’t fucking cry.

But suddenly.

Shouting erupts behind you both, just as a cop car rolls past the restaurant only to get surrounded. 

And with one look back, your brain freezes. Right before Yoongi sounds a little too delighted to say something so foreboding,

“Looks like you’re in it now.”

Adrenaline spikes as you burst into motion. Hot summer air stings your lungs as legs propel you forward, with nothing in sight except for your partner in high crime. 

Yoongi’s right. 

You’re in it now. 

And just like the delinquents that you despise, the two of you both kick up dust on the run. 

You’re really doing this. 

Holy shit, you’re really doing this and there’s no waking up, no jolting awake, no pinching yourself to know that it’s all a dream. The only thing pinching is your sides, fresh stings of karma with each heavy footstep through crowded streets, buildings, levels, wherever the fuck you go. 

At least Yoongi is commanding as he leads you through the city—clearly from a heap of experience. Though rattled, you follow him with more adrenaline than questions. Because running is all you know. Run, run, run, escaping is your only objective and you cannot let up even once.

Your feet pelt down a staircase before you leap onto a disposal bin, impact denting as you follow Yoongi’s long strides across the colorful tops. Shouts and metal pings echo behind you as your chasers catch up, and you grit your teeth so hard they rattle as you jump to alley ground. “Fuck!”

Searing, searing pain rushes through your legs as you twist and wind through busy corridors, squeezing into the gaps Yoongi finds as he barrels in front. 

“Get back here!” 

“You fuckers!”

Who’s following you? Are they even Crane? You don’t see a shred of white on their clothes at all so are they working for some random guy Yoongi stole from?

When you watch him turn at the shouting, all thoughts vanish as your gut churns. 

He’s grinning.

You just killed someone for him. And he probably has more blood on his hands than you can imagine. 

And he’s… enjoying this? 

You feel sick, mind blazing with a million red warning signs. How could you ever have had feelings for h—

You bounce off a passerby as you run, grunting at the sudden pain in your shoulder when another person rams into your back and topples you over, dirt scraping into your palms and knees. 

Shit shit shit it’s so dusty on the ground and all you see are traveling shoes where are you? Where is he did he leave did he even see you fall? It’s too condensed here there’s no way he’s not taking the next chance to disappear.

Forget all of that, they’re coming. The chasers are coming and you see them see you down get up get up get up what the fuck get up now.

Ripping out a groan, you rush to your feet as soon as someone swoops in, bashing someone right behind you with someone’s crate of fruit. 

Yoongi? He waited for you?

“Go!” 

Both of you hightail it with you now in the lead, and your eyes buzz as you slip through holes in the crowd. Left, left, right, around, left again, between. 

An intersection ahead. Yes. Lose everyone in the vehicle traffic or hitch a ride with a stranger. Fascinating how the survival tactics that spawn from your block develop in real time on the run.

Almost there, almost there, almost there—fuck! 

Whiffing in front of your nose, a metal weapon smacks the ground at your toes. 

Flailing, you dodge the next swing, ducking before you see a black duffle smack your assailant in the face. 

Keep going. Finish him and get away. As Yoongi shifts left, you lunge forward, sending a swift punch to the guy’s ribs that hurt like hell goddamn oh fuck someone brought a knife!

“Yoongi!” Just as the surrounding civilians yell and clear out, you rush toward his aid before you’re tackled, air whooshing out of your lungs as your back pummels into gravel. Fuck fuck fuck this masked woman also has a dagger. A thick one. Don’t let her win don’t let her win hold on for dear fucking life. 

Did you think you’d find yourself in a grudge match to keep metal from sinking into your chest today? No. Ever? Also no. 

Your arms are shaking. Shots ring out. Sweat is your enemy. The street is in uproar. Where’s Yoongi did he hear you? Fuck, the metal tip is pricking you now this is— 

Mercifully, your attacker yelps as something slams into her side, dark brown clothes crumpling before you’re hoisted upward and dragged back into the crowd. 

“Let me go or I’ll kick your ass—”

“You good?” 

Oh, it’s Yoongi. Again. Okay. Eyes swirling, you lock onto the gun held flush in his other hand before you nod. “I—I think so—”

“Then keep up.” 

Winding between people, you’re only focused on getting away. But when you catch glimpses of him, he’s back to his glint. He’s exhilarated.

If only you were both doing anything else. If only you weren’t so queasy and guilty and loathing of your own self.

Right as you finally burst into bustling traffic, Yoongi boldly stops a taxi at its hood, motioning you to follow him inside. 

Shocked but head reeling, you open the door closest to your sweaty legs and slide in. 

And before you can even greet the shouting driver, Yoongi pulls you to his side and rushes something out in your ear, 

“Kiss me.” 

“I said get out!” 

“What?” 

“Come here.” 

You’ve kissed before. Not many times, but enough to know that this man knows what the fuck he’s doing because you feel like your soul just abandoned you to exist in this car forever. You don’t know why this is happening or where this came from, but his lips feel as soft as his name and as deadly as the gun he’s pulling on your driver—

“Han Station,” he drawls, halting time and space. “Or your papers are burned by morning.” 

Oh. 

You were just… Oh. 

Lips puffed and head swirling, you sit frozen in your spot, marinating in the realization that the best kiss of your life was a mere distraction. And as you watch Yoongi keep his aim straight, you assume he probably didn’t even think much of it, either. 

“…I thought you looked familiar,” the driver slowly grits, hands gripping his wheel before he shakes his head. “You’re a little far from home.”

You think that’s all he’s gonna say. But his eyes are sharp in the rear view mirror, knowing a gun is pointed straight at his dome. “Aren’t you.”

What is he getting at you need to leave fast—

“Agust.” 

…Huh? 

Agust? 

This is the first time you feel a heartbeat against your arm, and you hold a breath as Yoongi tightens his fingers on the gun. 

When he doesn’t reply, the car fills to the brim with tension, and you feel crushed by its liquid weight. 

Don’t you have to go? Aren’t you in a chase? Are you getting a little too hot?

When you go to slide to your own side of the car for some space, the hand around your shoulder squeezes. 

And you’re more confused, exhausted, and thrown off than ever. 

“Han Station,” is all Yoongi—Agust?—repeats, voice ice. “Now.”

To which the taxi driver stares, standing his ground until he breaks eye contact first to obey. 

“Fuckin’ Dragons and their useless whores.”

Oh, fuck that. 

Before you can lunge forward to outright strangle the man, Yoongi does something that has your eyes magnifying into saucers and hands shooting up to your mouth.

He fires the gun straight at the man’s thigh, yelps leaving both the driver's throat and yours holy fuck! 

“You bastard—”

“You’ll live. Drive.”

“Fucking—fuck!”

The car shifts through traffic, swerving left and right and cutting off slower vehicles. When force smushes you closer into Yoongi’s side, you can’t help but notice how fit he is, and how calm he’s being despite the whole chase. Despite that spike in adrenaline. Despite blowing a hole in a stranger’s leg for six words.

He also feels really, really good against your side, but you can’t let that matter anytime soon. There’s absolutely no way you can let this dangerous man in, especially after this entire nightmare of a day. 

So you swallow, trying to compartmentalize because you’ll reach insanity if you don’t.

Does anyone out there know you took a life minutes ago? Or hours ago? You just kissed a criminal five and a half minutes ago. Would they care about that, too?

The window is suddenly much more interesting than any of your wandering, slingshot thoughts. 

Wait. It’s very pretty in this area, and you finally can tell some semblance of where you are. Because you only know of one part of the city that looks like this, and it’s deep in Crane territory. 

Did you both really make it this far? 

Carefully tended to, it’s a lot greener on the sidewalks, and more open on the roads. And it’s on one of these roads that you finally notice the sunset, gold accents shining on sleek street signs and the tops of buildings that seem much more at rest than you do. 

Rest. Sleep. Home. 

With the luck you’re having, it would be a miracle and a half to reach even one of the three. 

Did you get followed? You don’t know how much longer you can run, so you really fucking hope not. 

“Almost there,” Yoongi whispers, voice scratching your ear in the worst and best ways. “When we get out, move your ass.” 

When you watch the wary, heavy breathing driver in his rear view mirror, you bite out, “I know how to get out of a car, thanks.” 

“Just listen to me.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?” 

“No.” 

That came out quicker than you could stop it. But Yoongi only lets silence come between you before he squeezes your shoulder. When he speaks, you can hear how carved out his smirk is without even seeing it, 

“Good girl.”

And you spoke the truth. It wouldn’t have come out so fast if it weren’t. But you know to at least follow his advice here because he’s kept you alive thus far. He didn’t need to drag you out and protect you the whole way, so it’s not like he would steer you wrong here. Right? 

Right? 

“Here,” Yoongi orders before the car slows to a stop. 

That wasn’t so bad. You can get out normally now so why did Yoongi say—

Right as your foot hits ground, the taxi peels out, forcing you to throw yourself out of the side before the rest of your body leaves with it. 

Fucking hell that hurt what the fuck was that for? 

Dirt and dust coats your tongue before you do anything to spit it out. Saliva rushes from your glands as you cough and hack, all while feeling every muscle group in your body begging to not stand up. 

But you feel rough, commanding hands on your arms. “You good?”

“Yeah—”

“Then get up. Get up.”

Straining and wincing like hell, you follow Yoongi’s lead yet again. Because you hear cars rolling up with bad intentions and that means you have to sprint again. 

What the fuck did Yoongi steal? And how the hell are these guys still on your tail? Their resources have got to be as good as Crane’s and yet, they don’t feel the same at all. 

You’re hobbling, but you’re going. You’re rushing. You’re going to get through this alive. 

Instead of heading into the underground, you find yourself ascending a flight of steps. Rumbles and rattles hit your ears as you realize exactly what kind of station this is—one you haven’t seen anywhere in your district. 

Han Station is a floating railway? 

Holy shit, where are you?

Yoongi skids around a corner before you plant hard to stop yourself, only to see him clash with someone before something connects right with your stomach, and you crumple before you feel a solid hit to your head. 

Oh.

The world spins and moves as you hear vibrations, slowed sounds that could be shouts. Gunshots? Or maybe songs? You don’t truly know but your head is aching—

Your arm rushes up to block something before your body follows, and you scream before gripping whatever you can and flipping a whole body forward. 

Reality crashes back into your ears as you snap out of your head. 

You haven’t had to do that maneuver in forever. Was muscle memory more than enough?

“Come on!”

Go. Go, follow him, both of you need to get to the rail shit it’s leaving!

The blaring reverberates through the air, pinging off metal and wheels screeching on the track lines as you bolt for the open doors.

Mid-stride, Yoongi swings to look at the people barreling up the stairs. “One more time: do you trust me?”

“No!”

“Good”—his hands grip your waist—“Jump!”

Head empty, you leap onto the railcar right as it starts to pick up speed, and you watch in horror as Yoongi empties his clip behind him until he can’t anymore. 

“Yoo—” Fuck, what was his name? He seems to not prefer the one you call him and that has to be for good reason. What was it?

You’re leaving. He’s gritting his teeth while hitting the bottom of his gun but he needs to get up! What was his fucking name! 

“Agust!” 

Yoongi finally whips his head around, dashing to the end of the train and straining to carry the duffle. 

He needs to launch it or leave it behind. There’s no way he’s not being weighed down so hard. “Here!” you yell, knowing that look is only reserved for people he doesn’t want to trust. It’s normal. But it still stings. “Hurry up!”

After one more second, he swings it around and flings, leaping onto the side handrail after you get blasted by the bag holy fuck that hurt. 

He was running with this the whole time? No wonder his shoulders are so cut this is heavy.

Straining, you peek out into the wind, seeing Yoongi holding on and scooting along thin steprails towards your awaiting hands.

Shit, this is dangerous. Buildings and the city below fly by, and a parallel train whooshes and roars past as you finally tug him inside with shaky wheezes.

Just like that.

You made it out.

What the fuck. You did it. No one else was able to get onto the train. You’re safe for now. 

Finally, finally, finally able to breathe. 

But goddamn, you both stand out like blood on a blank page.

As you struggle to fully stand, you notice everyone else on the train—well-kept, carrying themselves in sleek linens and lush outfits, hair done beautifully and to perfection. 

Which makes it unsurprising that plenty of them regard the pair of you with suspicion and morbid curiosity. While intrigue covers the one with an unfairly handsome face, zings of jealousy and judgment fire your way. 

You feel so out of place. You are so out of place. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to look at you like filth. The words from the taxi driver pierce your brain again, and you feel rage and pain bubble up to your tongue,

“Anyone got something they wanna sa—”

But Yoongi does something that has your brain chemistry altering because he casually bends a knee in front of you while holding the top rail, forcing you back into the side of the train car and only seeing his jewelry. 

When your eyes snap to his, he regards you before peering outside. “Stop,” he mutters. “You're causing a scene.”

“Me?” Oh, he has some nerve. “What did I do, you’re the one—”

“Quiet.”

Ridiculous. Huffing, you let disagreement tug your lips while joining him in watching the world go by. 

Realizing with a pang that you are probably never getting back home. You’re never gonna see your favorite neighbor with his woks and caterpillar eyebrows. All the produce you were planning to sell will only succumb to mold and time. 

Your tangerines… 

When a tear falls, it glints in your reflection before quickly being swiped away. 

No. Don’t do any of that here where people can see—where he can see. No one will know what the hell you just went through today. Be normal, strong, normal. 

The ride lasts a little longer, with people coming and going during each stop. When there are seats open, neither you nor Yoongi move to take them. The two of you stay glued where you stand.

Silent, together, and covered in hidden blood.

The next stop seems to be in a quieter sector of the city. All around you are buildings you’ve never seen before stretching miles into the sky, and the streets are so neatly paved you’re convinced they’re fake. 

“This is us,” Yoongi whispers, hand guiding your hip to move toward the doors.

Skin scorching under his touch, you can only nod.

Where are you now? Where are you getting off? 

You both exit the train with a few others, and you watch with heightened curiosity as they carry satchels and wear shoes that look horribly uncomfortable. As you move down the steps, you keep craning your neck to take everything in, and more questions fill your head than answers. 

But the truth remains even as you and Yoongi stop in front of your destination.

You cannot run anymore. Even if more of whoever those guys were showed up, you may just choose to sit down instead of take another stride. Besides, your body is still running a thousand steps even though you haven’t moved since getting on the train anyway. After today, the chase may never stop.

“We’ll stay here.” 

We? Stay? 

“Here? This place is…” You keep peering up and up, the top of the building so high your neck hurts. It’s so foreign and magical your only adjective is a quiet, “Nice.” 

At your side, Yoongi seems annoyed when he asks, “Expect something different?” 

“Yeah, like… I dunno, a secret lair or something.” 

Air whooshes from his nostrils, but there’s a stark absence of a smile. Looking up at the building, too, he explains something that you’ve never heard of before,

“We’re in a grey zone. No one will follow us here.” 

Right. Because that somehow makes sense to regular civilians like you. Because you are one, are one, are one. “Allegedly,” you scoff, not knowing what to believe anymore.  

Yoongi pauses before heading up, and his agreement makes you look. “Allegedly.” 

Mm. 

After taking the tiny steps to the entrance, you wonder what he must be thinking bringing your haphazard look in tow. 

Because he could’ve left you behind at any point in time. But he didn’t. What does that mean? Why is he keeping you alive and at his side?

While you’re taking in the opulent and vast lobby, Yoongi guides you toward the front desk, shifting the duffle on his shoulder. 

This place is gorgeous. Nothing like you’ve ever seen. How were they able to install a waterfall in a building? What kind of money does this so-called grey zone have? 

Yoongi nods toward the concierge, who quickly nods back and scurries away and into a room.

If you weren’t so tired, you could probably make something of that exchange. But you are very much exhausted so frankly, you don’t give a shit right now. 

Although. You do give a shit about the fingers suddenly interlacing with your own. As your hand is held, you shoot your best client a look so potent he stares back. “What now,” you snip, question low and dripping with distrust. 

Unfazed, Yoongi slowly pulls you into his side, a steady hand coming up to wrap around your tired hips. So nonchalant, so lax, so confusing as he murmurs,

“Just wanted to.”

Your heart trips into the next beat.

On sore legs, you wait until the concierge comes back with a key, eyes swiping over you as if they finally noticed your existence. Which seems to perplex them as they hand over the metal device.

And Yoongi just takes it, not a word said before he directs you across the lobby to what look like elevators.

Even these look fancy as fuck. Wherever you are and whatever this place is, you feel even more out of place than on that judgy train. 

A hotel worker bows before he motions to the opening doors. “Nice to see you again,” he murmurs to the ground, seemingly expecting the same non-response given to the front desk. “Would you like the usual, Mister—” 

“No,” Yoongi clips him off. “Not this time.” 

“Understood.” 

Brows pinched, you’re starting to get a weird feeling. 

How does everyone know Yoongi so well here? He said this was a grey zone, which you’d think would be akin to a neutral or non-threatening one. So why does it feel like he’s got this area on lock? Who exactly are you getting into an elevator with? 

…Who exactly did you save? 

Yoongi was right when he said you’re in it now. But faced with more questions surrounding him than anything or anyone else, you’re starting to wonder what pit of hell you dropped yourself into. 

Especially after catching the look of utter panic from the serviceman. 

Right before sliding doors shut the world out. 

—

—

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: thank you all for being so patient as i work through this! it was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but i like, need characters to get to know and learn about one another before heading into spice lmao. I NEED PLOT OK. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF SMUT I PROMISE DSHFKDSF we just gotta get through the slow burn first >:)) a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist

[fligniuz]

sex for homework

luigi mangione x reader

｡𖦹°‧ you ask your cute tutor to help you study for your math final.

word count: 5.5k • part of my study buddies series (read here!) • nsfw • read on ao3

warnings : f! reader; EXPLICIT; dumbification if U squint; praise; oral (m! receiving); pre calc lol

notes : crossposting my shit to tumblr and starting with arguably one of my greatest uses of free will in history. title frommm:

You have a bit of a dilemma.

Well, it would be more accurate to say that you had a dilemma, have had one for quite a while now—your current grievances are merely extensions of a constant, one raging, blood-thirsty, borderline psychopathic problem of a class. MTH121, Concepts & Applications, is the only remaining mathematics credit required for your degree, and, coincidentally, absolutely no one told you that that’s really just a fancy name for pre-calculus. Because the universe hates you.

Your final is tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. If that wasn’t bad enough, your brain has utterly fucked you; months spent poring over formulas and right triangles amounts to nothing in the moment, every relevant fragment of knowledge completely foreign to your burnt out, sleep deprived, caffeine ridden psyche. So here you sit, “studying”, armed with just your textbook and Khan Academy tutorials.

Is it too late to switch majors? Yes, you decide, massaging your temples as you take another glance at your notes. A mass of numbers, variables, and scribbled matrices clogs the pages, complete with your near ineligible annotations, details added in the heat of a lecture. You never knew there could be so many different types of numbers. Solve for x. 5 + 2x to the 2nd power = 8x. Factor x3 - 3x to the 2nd power - 4x + 12. Find the vertex of the function f(x) = x to the 2nd power + 4x + 3. Determine the value of x if the sum of the following sequence converges to 5. How any of this is relevant to your future non-mathematics degree is beyond you.

What the hell is a vertex again? And what does it matter? You’d rather be sleeping, or drunk. Whatever.

You have one saving grace. Since your freshman year you’ve been employing a little cheat-sheet, your one-way ticket to having math explained to you in a language understood by plebeians like yourself: one Luigi Mangione, a friend of a friend of a friend, possibly the smartest guy you know (and you’re far from the only person to voice that opinion). Your self-appointed tutor—and unfortunately for you, probably the most appetizing of any of the frat guys you’ve met in college, to put it chastely. The actual knowledge is just a bonus, really, because unlike other tutors you’ve worked with Luigi seems to actually care; he wants you to walk away from him with a solid understanding of the material, rather than a temporary knowledge that gets your homework done but is absent from your memory by the time of your exams. And it’s hard to write off the fact that he’s easy on the eyes.

…Pretty damn hard, actually. Because—in all honesty—you’re really into Luigi. Another thing that’s hard to do is get your math homework done when you’re busy fucking yourself with your fingers, like you tend to do after your time with him, thinking about his cock, his hands, the way he would fill you, pin you down underneath him, smirk at you and tell you dirty things like that’s my girl, that’s my good fucking girl, that’s it, give it to me, show me how pretty you look when you come all over me like this…

Great. At this pace, you’ll never get anything done.

Your phone buzzes.

About an hour ago, you sent him a photo of your current predicament: your laptop and notebook open, and you sitting criss-crossed in front of it, an exaggerated pout on your lips. A few moments later, you sent another, this time of your middle finger pointed directly at your professor’s official portrait. Now, he responds:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Smh

Who studies the night before their final?? Dummy

You smile, replying:

i do :(

help pls :((

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : You poor thing

And then:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Come over. In like 15

We’ll work it out together

Score. He adds:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : And I better not hear any complaining when I make you actually do the math

Your crush feels elementary, like you’ve got the hots for the nerdy jock on the playground that’s miles out of your league and that every girl on planet Earth is fighting tooth and nail for. You respond:

no promises :P

You pray to your lucky stars that you can study as nonchalantly as humanly possible.

You told him you wouldn’t complain, and you’ve tried, you really have. But dividing radicals is fucking stupid and useless and the more you look at your paper the more these numbers and symbols really start to look all the same to you, just scribbles, meaningless scribbles of made-up concepts that have nothing to do with your career prospects whatsoever. Who gives a flying fuck about solving equations with these weird ass numbers that normal people don’t even use?

You must be thinking out loud, because Luigi laughs next to you on the couch. He is laughing at your frustration. What an emotionally supportive tutor. You groan and thread your fingers through your hair, massaging your temples.

Still smiling just slightly, he starts to gather up your things. “Alright, look, how about we take a break?” He glances over at you, still holding your head in your hands. “Yeah, let’s take a break for a minute.”

He gets up from the couch, disappears into the kitchen for just a moment. Comes back with a glass of orange juice. For you. You try not to think about how pathetic it is that the most romantic gesture a man has done for you in the past three years is bring you juice. Instead you watch him, sipping slowly—no pulp, he knows you so well—and peeking through your eyelashes as he scuttles around his dorm, just the two of you alone together, while he throws some laundry into a basket and absentmindedly closes doors of unoccupied rooms. You have never noticed how defined his calves are before, nor how his curls bounce just slightly when he walks fast or how his shorts sag on his hips just right, just enough for you to get a peek of his V-line and the waistband of his boxers when he raises his arms to stretch—

Nonchalant. Demure. Mindful. You are failing so hard at the one thing you’ve forbidden yourself from doing: staring at him until your eyes are practically burning holes in his clothes and he’s melting into the floor. Not entirely your fault. He should’ve known to dress modestly around you. Around anybody, for that matter.

Luigi comes to sit by you now. As you tuck your hair behind your ears you can feel his arm move to rest along the back of the couch, almost around you, but not quite.

“Hi,” you say, propping your head up on your arm.

He smiles at you. You can’t even look him in the eye. “Did you think more about your radicals?”

“Don’t remind me,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “No. I didn’t.”

“Well, what were you thinking about?”

You swallow the conspiratorial intuition that he has to be fucking with you. Maybe he sees it on your face. Can smell it on you. Something.

“I was trying to think of some things I’d rather be doing,” you offer. “Instead of math.”

Your heart feels three beats faster all of a sudden, and when did he get so close to you? Your thighs are touching, his knee brushing against yours. “And what did you come up with?” he asks.

Oh, fuck. He’s definitely fucking with you. Right? He has that goddamn smirk on his face, that one that makes your insides twist with a feeling reserved only for boys who look at you just like this, like you’re busted, like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about every second you’ve spent sitting next to him doing algebra. You want to kiss it right off of him.

“Nothing,” you lie, sitting up straight and trying to pretend like you really are interested in your studies. “Here, will you show me how to do it again?”

He calls your name. He doesn’t even have to ask for you to look at him; the tone of his voice and the tilt of his head makes his intentions entirely clear. When your eyes meet his he inches closer, and all you can manage to do is stare at his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, stern and warm enough to boil.

If he truly knew what he was asking for he wouldn’t be asking at all, you think. Not unless he was prepared for whatever your fervent need has in store for him. Embarrassment feels bright red and prickly on your skin. “I shouldn’t say.”

”But I think you should,” he whispers.

Oh. Oh. All bets are off, now. This has officially progressed from studying to “studying”.

Luigi lets you lead, his hand settling on the small of your back as you come a little closer to kiss him, properly. You hear him giggle before your lips meet; the curve of his smile against you is unmistakable, casting sparks through your body and down your thighs. He tastes like spearmint. You learn quickly that he is a fantastic kisser, and his tongue finds yours with curious excitement when your breathing starts to pick up. Without question, he claims the expanse of you, drinking in your essence, licking, biting. Those irresistible curls demand attention, and so you thread your fingers through his hair, your hand sweeping from behind his ear to the nape of his neck. Luigi shivers under your touch, exhaling softly against you.

When the fingers of his left hand raise to grasp your leg, you stop kissing him only to swing your body over his lap so that you’re straddling him. Luigi breathes in deep then, like his nervous system collectively seizes at the feeling of you so close. To give him room to breathe you stop short of settling all your weight onto him. Lips meeting once more, his hands greet your hips; his touch is warm, and timid, like you’re made of sand, like you might collapse and dissolve into immeasurable particles between his fingers.

He groans into your mouth. Murmurs your name. “This isn’t very productive,” he quips.

“Intellectually, no,” you agree, nails brushing the back of his neck. He has goosebumps. A ghost of a smile dancing on your lips, you slowly lower yourself down onto his lap; there are two layers of clothes between your bare skin but he is impossibly warm against you. “But what about physically?”

Luigi smiles, and fuck, he is too fucking beautiful. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

And so you kiss him again and again and again, your heart doing backflips inside your chest when his big hands glide lower, and lower, thumb toying with the waistband of your skirt, and lower still, until he’s gripping your ass. You can’t help but nuzzle against the growing stiffness underneath you, poking between your thighs—and you definitely can’t help but love the way he grinds back, hips meeting yours with just as much enthusiasm. Fuck. About an hour ago you were working through polynomials and linear equations, and now the dreamiest guy you’ve ever met is hard for you, holding you in his lap. You might as well thank your professor.

When Luigi sucks at your bottom lip for a few euphoric moments, you make the most pathetic sound into his mouth, and he growls, his hands suddenly coming up to grasp your hips and hold them steady. “Was this your plan all along?” he rasps, his lips moving swiftly to the side of your face, your jaw, the junction between your neck and shoulder.

Sharp teeth graze skin and you whimper. “What do you mean?”

“What, now you’re playing coy?” Luigi finds the pulse point in your throat and bites, softly at first, then harder when your fingers curl into the hair at the back of his head. “You didn’t want to study. You called me because you wanted to get fucked, because you knew I’d want to touch you just like this, didn’t you?”

This boy is out of his mind. First he practically eye-fucks you while schooling you about imaginary numbers, and then he ���scolds” you like he’s disappointed in your lack of interest in algebra, like he’s mad that you can’t resist him for being so damn gorgeous. That half-hearted meanness in his tone leaves butterflies in your stomach, in no way helped by the feeling of his tongue sliding over your collarbone.

“No,” you mutter. It’s not completely a lie. You really did need his help with the math, which he is really good at…but you can’t deny that you were really hoping you two would end up like this, with him kissing your neck all over until you’re speckled with purple and pink. You don’t even care about the obvious evidence of him on your skin—you want his entire dorm hall to know just how well-acquainted the two of you are by the time he’s done with you. The thought of everyone knowing you’re his makes you weak.

Luigi is kissing you again, slowly and deeply, one hand coming up to cup your breast through your shirt. His touch is too much and not enough simultaneously, your need overwhelming, and your hips are searching desperately for friction, rolling against him eagerly. So much for nonchalance.

He grasps your chin, firm but not at all painful, and flashes you that pretty smile, tutting, “I don’t believe you.”

Your mind is far too preoccupied with thoughts of his touch in other places to try to formulate a witty rebut. You opt instead to kiss him harder and sneak a hand between your bodies, tracing over his chest, down his carefully crafted abdomen, and then over the front of his shorts, groping his hard cock through polyester. Luigi groans into your mouth. He is big, almost intimidating, and imagining him inside of you has your body feeling hot all over.

As you palm the outline of his length through his trousers, his hands make their way underneath your sweater, the sudden warmth of him jolting through your torso. You look up at him through your lashes and he smirks.

“Do you want to sit on it?” he asks you, entirely stoic despite the weight of his words.

You kiss him, still squeezing his cock. “Can I put it in my mouth first?”

Fuck. You have him wrapped around your finger. How could he possibly say no when you ask so sweetly? Luigi is instantly pulling down his shorts for you, the rustle of fabric making your head spin. He’s left in just his boxers and a sweater that you quickly help him shrug off, too. Once you have him undressed, he takes a moment to survey you, your cheeks flushed, eyes lidded, hair tousled from his hands. You feel a surge of confidence now that you have his full attention and so you pull your top up and over your head, smiling when he reaches behind you to help you with your bra. He has it and your skirt off in just a few seconds, leaving your combined clothes to pile up next to the couch.

You shift so that you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him, wearing only your panties, watching him watching you. He is grinning, his cock standing proud, and you know you must be blushing by the way his teeth flash from under the curve of his lips. You feel gooey and hot in the pit of your stomach. Swallowing your shyness, you reach forward to take him in your hand. He’s already sticky at the tip, precum glistening on his slit, and so you begin to stroke him, starting at the head of his dick and spreading slick down his shaft. His cock is probably the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen, at the very least a runner-up for his face: tan and thick, his girth evenly distributed, and big enough to have you feeling your heartbeat between your legs. There is a prominent vein along the underside of him, ending at his frenulum. He pulses with each movement of your hand.

Once he’s as wet as you like, you come closer to tease him with your tongue, licking up the base, tracing his vein, passing over his slit. Luigi groans—“fuuuuuck, baby,”—and threads his fingers into your hair, tugging hard.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” he rasps. “You asked for this. Show me what that mouth can do.”

Your lips are halfway wrapped around the head of him and when you moan at his words it vibrates through him, his abs flexing deliciously. You move further down, then, mouth closed around his length, applying light pressure on your way back up. He’s too big to take all of him at once and so your left hand grasps the length you can’t reach, pumping gently. You start a subtle, easy rhythm, evenly paced and obviously satisfying enough to have Luigi panting and swearing above you: your mouth starts at his tip, sucking gently, then gliding lower, until you can feel him in the back of your throat and you’re nearly gagging on him—and then you move upward again, cheeks hollowing around him, finally reaching the head of him once more. Rinse and repeat. It is organized. Formulaic. Your process leaves you practically drooling on his cock, spit collecting at the base where you are stroking him. Fuck. You haven’t pleased a guy like this in quite a while, and under any other circumstances you’d probably feel a bit insecure about your work; but it’s difficult to justify any doubts you might have, what with the noises coming from above you:

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby, yes, just like that, fuck yes,” Luigi moans, fingers knotted tightly in your hair. “Oh my god, your mouth…”

You slip your free hand into your panties, middle and ring finger rubbing your clit.

As your ministrations intensify, his reactions do, too. You can feel his thighs and hips tensing in an effort not to fuck into your throat. But you made a promise to yourself; you want to take the entirety of his length in your mouth before all of this is over, and so you move your left hand down to his balls, kneading him and carefully lowering your face until your nose is pressed into the curly hairs of his groin, his cock as deep as it can reach. And Luigi keens, head thrown back against the couch, one hand in your hair and the other gripping the armrest tight. You can feel him twitching in your throat.

There are a few blissful moments of you sucking him just like this, sinking him deep into your throat and pinching your lips around his tip, and you almost wish the two of you were recording because the sounds he makes are top tier jerk material for at least the next few months. He’d be a natural on camera. You want to commit every second of this to your memory.

When he goes quiet for a moment you open your eyes to look at him. You find him staring down at you, mouth agape. “Are you touching yourself?” he asks.

It’s difficult to answer with his dick in your mouth, so you settle for moaning around him again, eyes fluttering shut.

“Holy fuck,” he grunts, his voice sweeter than sugar.

You could sit here sucking him off for the rest of your life—you could die with his dick in your mouth—but you regrettably begin to feel your jaw aching, knowing full well that keeping this up will have you hurting. Not that you really mind. When you begin to sputter and tear up around him, he grabs both sides of your face and pulls your mouth off of his cock. You are crying, just a little, crocodile tears streaming down your cheeks, your throat raw.

Luigi looks down at you sweetly. “Oh, baby,” he coos, wiping your wet face dry with his thumbs. “That’s my perfect girl. So good to me. Come here.”

He welcomes you back onto his lap with open arms and a smile. He is warm, so warm and soft against you, you could fall asleep just like this. But he is kissing you now, so slowly that you feel dizzy, and so you ground yourself, fingers embracing his curls. His hands move to your hips, grasping the waistband of your panties, teasing you, rubbing the fabric against your heat. When he finally has them off his fingers are instantly examining you, collecting your slick, slipping through your folds.

“Let’s see about a little reward for you, hm?” he whispers, capturing your lips with his.

You kiss him eagerly and arch your back so that your thighs spread wide enough for his fingers to enter you with ease—not that it would be difficult without, considering that you’re so wet you can hear him touching you, even over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. Two long digits move inside of you, stretching you, massaging that spot that makes your knees buckle and your eyes cross, plus a few more that you never knew existed. His touch feels so good, just how you imagined, and you have to lean forward into the crook of his neck to keep yourself upright, your teeth sinking into a firm shoulder. Luigi makes a gruff sound, almost a chuckle, and his cock jumps at your whiny, choked noises when he adds a third finger into your pussy.

“So needy, aren’t you?” he teases. “Have you been thinking about this, gorgeous? About sucking my cock and taking my fingers like this?”

You nod, because of course you have. In that exact order. Who wouldn’t?

Luigi smiles at you, soft and adoring. You make a curious sound and his fingers depart from you, lingering at your entrance until you grind down into his lap. Your cunt brushes against him, raw, hungry, slathering his cock with your slick.

“I want you,” you whine, grabbing his face and kissing him again. “I want all of you.”

“Yeah, baby?” His hands are guiding your hips, moving you slowly against him. “Tell me about it.”

Well, you would, if your brain weren’t short-circuiting at the moment. His fault. You mumble into his ear, something about infinity, something about the way you hug your pillow at night and all the times you’ve fucked yourself stupid thinking about this very image of you and him together like this. But there are countless words for your endless feelings, words you would preach to him from high places if your body had the agency to; your attraction to him is primal, but neatly arranged, layered, wrapped up with variables galore and multiplying with each moment you spend in his presence. A mess, no doubt about it, but one you can control, a tangle to unravel, an equation to solve. Nothing less. You aren’t sure of how this ends but you know that you need him, bad, more than you knew was possible before.

You crash into him, mouths colliding, everything that you left unsaid spilling into your embrace. Words are hard. Kissing Luigi and grinding your warm, throbbing cunt against him takes much less brainpower.

He is speaking to you when you pull away: “Baby, just a second, wait right here, let me get something.” Gently you are pushed from his lap and he disappears into his room momentarily, leaving you waiting, alone, aching for him, until he rounds the corner again with a familiar foil packet, finding his way back to the couch and sweeping you on top of him once more.

“Hi. Sorry.” And now he is fully yours.

You whine and wiggle against him the second the condom is on.

“Shh,” Luigi whispers, “I got you, ‘s okay, gorgeous. Gonna take good care of you, yeah? Don’t you worry. Gonna give you just what you need, baby.”

The tip of his cock is pressing into you, then, slowly easing himself inside, and fuck, he fits just right, fills you up perfectly, has you seeing stars already. The sound you make when he bottoms out is a hop, skip, and a jump away from pornographic. Luigi purrs underneath you.

“Oh, I know, baby, I know.” His hand slides down to grip your ass, spreading you, and from this angle you can feel just how much he stretches you out. And then, as he begins to roll his hips: “My sweet girl, working so hard, can’t even think for yourself, can you, beautiful? That’s okay, baby. I can do all the thinking for you, you just sit back and let me work it out for you, yeah? Don’t think. Just let me please this pussy.”

It’s like he’s trying to kill you. Every single word he says into your ear shoots straight to your cunt, the mere sound of his voice so near you electrifying. He’s deep, and with your thighs spread wide like this you just have to take advantage of the perfect angle to rub your clit against him. You can’t help but squeal into the crook of his neck each time his hips ram up into you, thighs clapping against your ass; by the way his muscles tense you assume it must take much of his energy, and yet he pounds you like you weigh nothing in his lap, exerting himself like it’s a cakewalk so long as he can watch your face shrivel up with overwhelming delectation. You can tell that he loves it when you tug his hair or bite him, and so you do it every chance you get, just in case your hushed utterances in his ear fail to make your message clear enough:

“Luigi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, oh, fuck…”

As he paces himself Luigi wraps his strong arms around you, one caging your waist and the other pulling tight at your hair. Your neck is arched and exposed, leaving him free to smother his love all over you in sharp, uneven hickeys. You needed this, so, so bad, and you tell him exactly that, chanting thank you, thank you, thank you and holding him tight.

“Whatever you want,” he whispers. “You can have whatever you want with me. Anything.” His lips meet yours, fleeting, and then, with the slightest hint of a grin: “You earned this, baby.”

You groan directly into his ear. It’s straight from your dreams, you think, like you’ve been swept from your bed in the midst of the night and dropped right here, in the lap of the sweetest, smartest, most handsome boy you’ve ever so much as looked at, bouncing on his cock while he kisses you like you’ll float away if he lets go. The two of you work together to heighten each other’s inevitable undoing, like a function of sorts; Luigi pushes and you push back, meeting his hips every time, your clit brushing against him just right, and him breaching unknown depths of you, hands roaming, learning you inside and out.

“My sweet girl,” he grabs your face and rests his forehead against yours, driving into you with precision. “This is all yours, baby.”

Sweat starts to gather at his hairline and you can feel him shuddering in your arms. Kissing him, you press down on his toned chest, pinning him against the couch, and Luigi is practically singing for you, little grunts and babys and murmurs of your name traveling through your ears and echoing in your mind. You want this to last forever. His hips slow to a stop when you begin to move on your own; you raise yourself up, resting all your weight on your knees, with him sliding out of your cunt until just the tip is still inside—and then you drop down, letting him sink back into you quickly, slick and smooth, his cock so deep you can nearly feel it in your stomach.

Fuck. You love this. You love the way his hands grip your ass, your thighs, rubbing your back, moaning your name and kissing behind your ear. You love the way he looks at you. The pupils of those dark eyes are blown wide, watching you move, worshipping how your tits bounce, the gyration of your hips, the blush of arousal all over you, your bottom lip wedged between your teeth. The sounds of sex and the shameless way he takes in every feature of your body have you feeling hot and ready to burst. You moan his name, drawn out and raspy.

“Yes,” Luigi groans. “You’re so pretty on top of me.”

Even through the haze of your pleasure you smile at his praise. He is telling you everything, every single thought that passes by in his mind, as if there will be no proof of how good he fucked you once you leave his dorm, as if every word will dissipate into thin air and leave you waiting, unsatisfied, hanging on the edge: “You take it so well, baby, my sweet girl, so perfect, so perfect just for me.”

His big hands are all over you. One cups your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth, with the other splayed over your hip. You start to feel dizzy, anxious for his attention, a little bit crazy. Close. Luigi must notice the way your eyes screw shut and your pussy squeezes him tight, because his hand moves down your chest, over your stomach, and then to your clit, circling his fingers with purpose. He wishes—almost—that you were beneath him, so that he could replace his hand with his mouth, trace down your body with his lips and bring you to your very edge with his tongue, over and over again, until you’re begging him to stop.

He settles instead for kissing you, hard, slowly, lingering. “You have no fucking idea how bad I’ve been wanting this, baby.”

You nod, moaning, “yes, yes, me too,” your noises pained and rough in your throat.

The way his cock slams into you with each movement of your hips is ruthless, bruising; he’s kissing you so sweetly and you can feel your climax churning in your abdomen, rippling through you. It knocks the air from your lungs. Sex with him hurts so good. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

“Gonna come,” you huff. There are fingernail-sized dents in his skin. “Gonna come for you.”

Luigi nods, whispers, “good girl, such a good girl,” and circles his fingers over your clit as fast as he can manage.

You tense around him at that. You can’t even count how many times you’ve come imagining those very words whispered in your ear by the very man that you’re riding right now.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Yeah? You like that? You like being a good girl for me?”

You nod wildly, and everything feels so real all of a sudden, like you’ve been floating mindlessly in space and you are crashing down into reality. His teeth dig into the sensitive skin of your neck and his hips start to pump again and by the time he’s meeting your thrusts you’ve had enough, thighs shaking, and he starts moaning into your ear so that you know he’s right there with you, and fuck, he’s really trying to kill you—

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. A 5’11, dark haired and brown eyed muscle truck that looks at you like you are the only good thing left in the world.

For a moment there is only your deep panting and his equally spent breaths as the both of you rest, his hand tracing gentle patterns on your back, yours combing through his sweat-soaked curls. The dorm is quiet, calm, almost with an air of innocence, completely unswayed by the heady aftermath of what the two of you just did right there on the couch. You lean back and look into his eyes, brooding and trained entirely on you. And he has that stupid grin on his face, the one that gives both of you away for good, the one that screams we’re not the only ones who know what we’ve been up to.

You want to kiss it right off of his beautiful, beautiful face. But right now you just sigh, lean into his shoulder, and let him hold you tight. Tonight you will walk back to your dorm, all the way on the other side of campus, where your roommates will be waiting for you, likely getting ready for bed. You will walk inside and they will watch you without a clue as to whose hands have been on you, whose name has been on your lips, whose cock has been buried to the hilt inside of you for the past hour. Your legs will be aching—you are sure of it.

Your roommates will ask you, “how’d it go?”, completely unaware of what your wobbly smile really means, how you really spent your time with your cute tutor.

And you will respond, “oh, great,” with a barely masked giggle. “I’m gonna ace my test tomorrow.”

^ dividers by cafekitsune

[sam-keeper]

Hey Look At This Comic: Chainsaw Man and Don't Get Around Much Anymore

this title is so funny. hey you probably haven't heard of this small indie comic, yeah it's pretty obscure it's called Chainsaw Man.

here's an even funnier joke: hey have you heard of this comics guy, name of Art Spiegelman?

before Spiegelman wrote that book you probably know him better for (ha ha he he) he did a lot of other comix, particularly a lot of one page experiments. one in particular stuck with me: Don't Get Around Much Anymore, a simple exploration of a narrator's apartment. there's a lot things Spiegelman does to enhance the sense of stasis, isolation, and depressive gloom in this comic, and the New Yorker a while back published a great summary by Spiegelman of his own techniques. what stuck with me the most was the sense of time out of joint created by his manipulation of narrating text and panel contents. throughout the comic, the text and images are "out of synch [sic]". for many panels, the text describes the image we've just seen rather than being illustrated by the panel it's in. there's even a weird pivot in the middle where we briefly look ahead before getting caught again in the backward flow.

because of the kind of person I am, I flashed back to this comic after reading Chainsaw Man issue 172. in it there's a bunch of moments where speech bubbles and panels also seem to be out of sync. so, I dug DGAMA out again and took a look. actually, I did more than reread it: I followed its soundtrack instructions, "to be read to the accompaniment of a dripping faucet, slowly." I'm trying to do more dumb bullshit that artists tell me to do these days because A. it's not like they're going to squirt me with their rubber flower or get me with the ol' ink around the telescope trick, come on and B. we do all kinds of arbitrary, annoying tasks in order to access an intended artistic experience: we call it "video games".

so I went in the bathroom with my girlfriend's copy of Metamaus, found the page where they reproduce DGAMA, and adjusted the faucet. how slowly to drip? well, if it's too low "slowly" becomes "inaudibly" so nudge it up a bit more. ok, tap... tap... couldn't hear that one... tap... good enough. and I read, and when I got to the panel where the narrator's description lines up with the panel contents, "all the water I can use pours out of the faucet with a flick of the wrist," the faucet made the loudest little "plop" yet. damn. A+ Art.

the reading experience is something like this: where a comic might often get chewed up fast, eyes rushing across the page, this one encourages a kind of juddering, halting back and forth between panels. it's almost got a hypnotic quality, paired with the dripping tap. it's such a simple page, but I found myself weaving back and forth over it many times in order to make sense of all the relations. the schematic representations at the top of the page take on an almost mocking quality--you can piece together the floor plan and how everything fits together, but doing so just pulls you into the comic deeper.

the effect of disjointed time in Chainsaw Man isn't the same, but there's some parallels. I find that I have to reread Tatsuki Fujimoto's action sequences a lot of the time to figure out just what is happening in them. this could be seen as a flaw but I think creates a deliberate sense of chaos. whatever occurs in Chainsaw Man can be understood, but only after the fact. in the moment events just occur, then we are invited to dissect the aftermath like crime scene investigators.

for that kind of effect, the disorienting pairing of seemingly out of sync words and drawings works perfectly. Fujimoto likes action sequences that don't linger on the tweens, jumping instead from impact to impact to impact. (this contrasts his dialogue scenes which often incorporate pauses and repeated static panels.) in the page here, a devil whose deal I can't be bothered to remember says "I dodged it!" only to realize that their head's been cut off. only, that's not really right, is it? the speech bubble is "I dodged it!" but in the panel the killing blow has already been struck. the speech bubble, as in Spiegelman's comic, seems to be lagging a bit behind the action. look at the two page splash too: if we're inclined to read the action the same way we read the rest of the comic, right to left, we arrive on the right hand of the page, where the action has already completed. we don't follow Chainsaw Man's trajectory but instead focus on where he already is, reconstructing the violence as we pass back across the rest of the page. to me, the skipping of intermediate moments, the page compositions, and this disunity between text and image, invites something similar to the passing back and forth over panels that we see in DGAMA.

is it that deep? if you think about this I suppose you can conclude "this is the character dying before they know it" which, sure, though I think that raises some interesting questions like "how do you get a whole sentence out with a severed windpipe and vocal cords". there's a moment later on when some dude is like "you guys! get behind me!" as, again, the panel shows his head and arms flying off. I guess there's a pretty established convention in manga and anime at this point of allowing gravity to be as weak as it needs, in order to let someone say as much as they want while their limbs are flying off, not unlike opera's convention of having someone get stabbed and then stand up to sing an aria with the sword still sticking out of their lungs.

nevertheless, I think it feels experientially distinct when you have a static image, ostensibly representing a unit of time, and the panel contents are this transparently incompatible. a more interesting way of looking at it is: death comes so fast for these characters that the comic can't keep up. it's not the speech but the speech bubbles that are out of joint here, the action leaving its medium behind. it's a radically different end effect than the one Spiegelman aims for, and is a lot less ready for the cover of The New Yorker, but the underlying principle of decoupling word and image in order to create a sense of time not quite functioning correctly remains the same.

if you wanted to achieve this in film, what could you do? maybe desync the audio track? it's an interesting possibility, though one I think a lot of viewers would experience as a transcoding error rather than an intended effect. or you could do something like the astonishing sequence in the most recent episode of The Elusive Samurai where, like Chainsaw Man, intermediate actions are removed so that a character is abruptly standing next to a bunch of headless corpses blooming blood flowers in slow motion. there's ways to capture something of the energy of Fujimoto's work.

...I don't think the anime adaptation of Chainsaw Man really tries, for the most part. both the slow awkwardness of conversations with their static compositions, and the way the action tends to skip clear movement for noise and destructive aftermath, aren't really suited to the style of high budget blockbuster anime, which wants to pack the screen with little movements, as though to make sure the money is visible with each frame, all the ones accounted for. the adaptation has largely opted to look as good as possible all the time, for a given value of good, in a way that I think loses a lot of the grungy charm of the comic.

even the most suited adaptation, though, would still lack one of the fundamental qualities of the comic page: its altogetherness, its arthrology as Thierry Groensteen terms it, its nature as a bunch of panels in a metaframe, taken in at a glance, or pages easily flipped back and forth across. it's this that allows us to pass back and forth over the page like we're reconstructing the calamity from the evidence after the fact.

this post originally ran on Cohost on August 19, 2024. you can read more reviews in the Hey Look At This Comic tag and support me on Patreon.

[loveamongdragons]

Regarding one of the last scenes of ATLA where Zuko gives his speech as a newly crowned Fire Lord: I always felt like it didn't hit nearly as hard as the show wanted it to. It felt anticlimactic, and hollow, and today it occured to me that this is due to the fact that, ultimately, it wasn't really Zuko's place to give this speech - not as the Fire Lord, but as part of the character ansemble.

Like, normally, this would have been the protagonist's place to speak, you know? As in, the person, whose name is in the show's title itself. The person who - supposedly - stands for all the things that Zuko talks about. This was the opportunity to hammer home what Aang's role and destiny is, and why he was the protagonist in the first place.

I find it a bizarre writing choice to say the least, but unfortunately it is just the tip of the iceberg of what turned out to be Aang's disappointing, or rather abandoned, character arc. It's just the last part of a sequence of events that somehow made Zuko a better representation of ATLA's themes than ATLA's poster child itself. By the end of ATLA we had arrived at a point where the big battle between Zuko and Azula is a WHOLE lot more cathartic than the long promised fight between the protagonist and the Big Bad - all due to the fact that one battle had narrative significance beyond plot alone, and had themes and emotions and character arcs attached to it, while the fight between Ozai and Aang was just the ATLA equivalent of a cheap Hollywood fight over-relying on CGI. From a writing standpoint that is bizarre, and was absolutely avoidable if the writers hadn't abandoned Aang's character arc after Crossroads of Destiny.

The scene where Zuko gives his speech does not hit hard enough because ultimately it should have been a fully-realized and mature Aang's place to deliver it, instead of just standing idly during the finale of his own goddamn show. He is a passive viewer, and that is just so odd. He's really been robbed of a positive character arc, and we've been robbed of a more satisfactory ending.

(It's this, and the fact that the show chose to tell us that Zuko and Aang are "actually friends" now, without imo properly showing it. It just crrates an added layer of dissonance.)

I'm hollering - Aang has spend the finale growling in the Avatar state, staying silent by Zuko's side, and then kissing Katara withouth uttering a single word. I??? JUST? WHY. Why would you write it that way?

[saramurphy]

Dan posted this video that gave us a HUGE peek into Martin's notes about episodes they're working on...

Screenshots (with about 90% ID of what's visible, bless his handwriting) under the cut! Fair warning, it's long, but there's a lot going on here, and it's so much to think about!

picture 1: ????? chicken head funnier

picture 2: (first page) Reactionator

? Speakers all over town People's phones Therapist Doof & Candace

Therapist thinks she is crazy but is tactful

The shrink is delusional ? ? exercise that is the catalyst for Cand. being delusional

Candace "It's A Wonderful Life" -- After actual bust C sees everyone doing much worse she feels sad

Family - I think you discuss it Cruise Ship - P&F Van/Doof Last chance to Candace A / Perry back

(second page) Doof's DEI W/A C's Therapist

Doof same therapist

Ferb is next a speech therapist

Doof trauma-dumping on therapist

Therapist "The real self-destruct button is in your head"

Therapist does ex(?)nemesis - therapist

Therapist sees - "WAIT, I GET IT, what Candace is doing gets taken away by what HE'S DOING--"

(note going down side of page) GUEST ON DOOFENPUSS

Doof ? regular ? ? - but she can't ? this because of C ? Confidential ALL DANVILLE Doof and Vanessa on cruise ALL CHARACTERS ? Reactionator blackmail secret I ever tell you w/Lindana whose solved mysteries

picture 3: (script on the table) (our first potential season 6 title?) PHINEAS AND FERB

"VANESSAY"

Written by Martin Olson & Olivia Olson

picture 4: Vanessay

Change tennis to playground

Roger & slushy guy not zapped

Rog. - reflects ray w/ his teeth - set up teeth first Doof: strong jaw -

Agent T thumbnotes "Up the chimney is a weird visual pun" Stacy: "You know we have a front door."

C & Stacy w/ambient sounds joke sequence - cut down?

Mono - "Four seasons of this show" Why did I ? ? ?

To Liv for Vanessay Playground - see how ? ? trap sets scene - a handled window box

Stacy: "Hey ? I ? ANIMAL NOISES!" CUT TO BLACK

Stacy pushes ? out of doorway

Dimin: after "Shorty" - No prize is worth this!

picture 5: T For Teen For Liv - SC 916 Perry leaps into air & does triple flip & lands ready to fight

Pitch n buttons for each

Exec note - Thurs - T For Teens 1:48 end of C/Stacy annual ? sudden cut to end ? w "napkins"

MEAP - PT2 S&P CONCERNS

(I cannot make this bit out to save my life. Martin what in the world my dude)

picture 6: Meap pt 2 - thumbnotes

22 to Meap - "Uh-uh! An ship ? us away!" (clumsy)

Fix pronunciation "St. Lois" joke C is shushed by Meap

Tidy up - don't have everyone say "Don't forget to flush"

C pressing red button to explode ? ship sucks

Brenda joke sexist "No one tracks you through the universe more than your wife"

picture 7: 501 PT1 Exec notes - bigger intro of Doof instead of him on yearbook 10:27 Buf. throw away Constitution Irving beat #2 too quick to nerd

Deconstructing thumbatic

Instead of "psychosis" "phantasma"

607 - Isa hair - 704 OWCA shredding SC

C feels good - "? ? that every day"

12 min: Viewers see The Murder Board

Biblio Blast anim. notes Perry incompetent - smashes into Doof's roof Cut down - plants surrounding/attacking Cut down Doof/Per table start w/Doof "We have to HIT SELF DESTRUCT"

picture 8: (page 1) song by the paver the wind makes love w/each other again

around us - it all seems so real meaning confounds us - cuz nothing's revealed we're SW in love w/each other again

Middle 1: From nothing we hustle Towards each other again Our love seems to circle Without any end

V3: The cloud of unknowing has such beautiful colors But where is it all going ? towards one another? we're SW - in love w/each other again

Middle 2: We seek out each other Every time we appear Sometimes we find another Before we disappear

INSTRUMENTAL W/DANCING SKELETON

(page 2) Middle 3: The breeze says to hug her And show how we feel Slowly healing each other Every turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: So basically - We're SW Along by the river We sit on a porch and The wind makes us shiver We're SW in love w/ each other again We're SW in love w/ each other again

JOSH - The paver of

picture 9: While Dance

says to hug her how we feel healing each other turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: (So basically)

We're SW Alone by the river We sit on the ? and The wind makes us shiver We're SW In love w/each other again

picture 10: Swampy

is trapped

back build something

element

State Triangle

"It's like the Berm[uda Triangle] totally different

(Teen lounge) & P&F build

too much like

Dan wants PLANE to

Doof is the ship

Jon said we turn strong where Doof is in the clouds - there's

picture 11: It's a whole new summer Perry (reblog if u cried)

Earthquake

Mom is laughing so hard she can't look

Staring contest - Try not to laugh

Candace has to be ? at Jeremy's larping tournament but she laughs

picture 12: Perry sick, "Can you take

Candace P&F canoe race

Laughtrack-inator Start ? - reveal Doof hits them w/a Doof keeps cranking it up

Doof rises wall of ? behind at ?

Laugh-inator Cut to surgeon heart

Norm: Good mg. sir Doof: But I programmed you to

picture 13: (this is another view of the page in picture 2, but this one reveals slightly more at the bottom, nothing too noteworthy added except for this)

LINDANA 80'S COP MOVIE - GUEST ON DOOFENPUS

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus just pulled off the biggest whiff in webtoon history.

I promised I would choose one of two headlines and of course, this is the one we wound up with. But should we really be surprised? Rachel herself seemed to be telling on herself down to the minutes leading up to the finale, fully confirming to us that yes, she's been writing this comic at the last minute, by the seat of her pants, for ages now.

(that second one was literally posted TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES BEFORE THE COMIC UPDATED.)

Welp, let's get into it. Possibly the last essay I'll ever write about this dumpster fire of a comic (but probably not, let's be real LOL)

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND FASTPASS SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE AHEAD!

Holy crap, where to even start with this. I knew it was going to be bad. I knew it was going to be rushed. I knew it wasn't ever going to live up to what I had hoped it would be years ago when I was still a diehard fan.

But I didn't think it was going to fall quite this hard. Despite bracing myself for the worst, Rachel has once again let my expectations down through a final display of explosive mediocrity and disappointment.

Yes, the episode is called "You're Welcome", and yes, that instant "ick" you're feeling is the exact same as what we're all feeling. This title plays into the dialogue later, but what a shitty, lowkey mean-spirited title for the series finale.

Now, before we get into the actual episode, the WT ads for this are just... so desperate and misleading.

They are trying SO HARD to hype up something that isn't there, and at the last minute to boot, because Rachel definitely hadn't written any of this ahead of time.

First off, the bit about the gods being in "eternal chaos" of course isn't a stake worth worrying over because Gaia literally does away with Ouranos in the first 5 panels.

Did you really think I was joking about that 5 panels thing?

That's it. That's the death of Ouranos. As mysteriously and quickly as he arrived, he was gone, after Gaia ripped out of him what appeared to be some purple sunny side up - but it's actually, in fact, Apollo.

And that's when we start to get some of the worst dialogue I've ever seen throughout LO. Remember when I said LO's dialogue was like Shenmue 3? Welp, the finale decided to continue that tradition and further fuel the suspicion that this entire thing was written by ChatGPT.

Oh, by the way, that "thank you, ma'am" was Artemis' first and last line of the episode. So once again, just like in Episode 248, we're completely robbed of her reaction to Apollo being a rapist piece of shit and the character development she could have had as a supporting character. The women in this "feminist retelling" really couldn't be more half-baked.

Gaia stumbles upon Persephone, and I'm not even gonna fucking bother showing the panels where Gaia says it's time to "make things right" because they literally don't matter. Why don't they matter? Because Rachel just had to get in one more pointless time skip.

We're shown a sequence of pointless images that I'm not gonna show as I don't want to waste my image limit on them, depicting Hades having a sad day because his small wife isn't with him and oh nooo what could have happened?? Did Persephone finally divorce him ??

Nah, we couldn't possibly have an actually happy ending in this comic. Instead we get a completely pointless phone conversation between Hades and Hecate-

Not only is the grammar particularly bad in this episode, but the actual script-writing is atrocious. We literally did not need this phone conversation to happen because-

-we're cutting BACK TO THE PRESENT THAT WE JUST CUT AWAY FROM FOR A 3 MONTH TIME SKIP. FOR NO REASON BESIDES SHOWING HADES BE SAD OVER SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY ISN'T THAT BIG A DEAL, AS YOU'RE ABOUT TO SEE.

I- I LITERALLY HAVE NO WORDS. I HAVE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. ALL I CAN HEAR IN MY BRAIN IS THE LEGEND OF ZELDA ITEM GET MUSIC-

-BECAUSE THIS WHOLE THING SUDDENLY SOUNDS LIKE SOME CONTRIVED FETCH QUEST. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HADES AND PERSEPHONE HAVE PROVEN 'TRUE LOVE' IS REAL? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVEN'T USED 'LOVE' AS A FORCE FOR DESTRUCTION?? ARE WE FORGETTING THAT HADES MUTILATED A GUY IN THE NAME OF 'LOVE'? THAT PERSEPHONE LITERALLY INVADED THE HOME OF HADES' CANONICAL FIRST WIFE BECAUSE SHE FELT MILDLY THREATENED BY HER?

This whole concept of "true love" that Rachel is trying to convey feels so juvenile especially for a series that has sold itself as being mature and thought-provoking and progressive.

HAHAHA SO FUNNYYYYYYY why does Rachel write like this. this is, at best, the writing of a 13 year old on fanfiction.net, which I SHOULD KNOW, because I WAS ONE OF THEM. BUT I'M 28 NOW AND RACHEL HAS ANOTHER 10 YEARS ON ME.

Okay, this is the part where I'm CONVINCED Rachel either just mashed this into the episode in the MINUTES leading up to its release, or she used ChatGPT or something. Because NONE of this dialogue makes any sense. Beyond how stilted and lifeless it is (seriously, this dialogue reads like something from Empress Theresa) Gaia is clearly meant to 'replace' Erebus here which I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO EVEN EXPLAIN IS SO FUCKING DUMB, but ALSO what is even Persephone trying to communicate here? "That is true, but it was a deal I was willing to make and ties me to the Underworld. Please don't change me." What? Gaia hasn't even insinuated that she's going to do anything to Persephone, why is Persephone immediately jumping to this conclusion? What does 'changing' her mean? Is she asking Gaia not to force her to sacrifice something (which she never did)? Or is she asking Gaia not to strip her of her Underworld status? Because again, why is that even something Gaia would do?

Maybe this is harsh but I'm pretty sure even Empress Theresa is more coherent than this, what in the flying fuck is Gaia talking about?

"I can just see the potential for conflict! To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres." Like... okay, first of all, that second sentence isn't even a complete sentence, it's a dependent clause left hanging, but also what the fuck does this MEAN. Is she EXCITED for the conflict but then contradicting herself by saying she wants to relieve Persephone of that conflict? Or is she saying she can see the conflict it would cause for Persephone to have to perform duties in both realms and trying to insinuate that she's going to relieve her of those complications?

Here's what I think happened - I think that second 'sentence' wasn't supposed to be a sentence, but the start of the sentence to the next panel-

So with that theory in mind, the sentence becomes, "To relieve you from the burden of the whats, the hows, and wheres, you are to spend three months in the Mortal Realm to do spring and the rest of the year in the Underworld. That seems fair to me."

It's still a very poorly written line of dialogue, but at least with that fix in mind it makes sense. But man, you can really fucking tell this episode was submitted at the last minute because that's a serious syntax error that should NOT have happened in this two-time-Eisner-winning comic.

Errors aside, it's clear that Rachel is following through on having Persephone spend only three months in the Mortal Realm, rather than the traditional six. There ARE other translations that have that number closer to four, but those four are the time she spends in the UNDERWORLD, meaning she's always spending either equal or MORE time in the Mortal Realm. Of course, Rachel doesn't want her self-insert small wife power fantasy to actually have to be separated from Hades despite this being a retelling of The Abduction of Persephone, so instead of her spending three months in the Underworld, she's now spending them in the Mortal Realm, literally doubling the MINIMUM amount of time (four months) she was originally meant to reside in the Underworld.

But oh no, apparently those three months are STILL NOT SHORT ENOUGH FOR PERSEPHONE-

Of course, Rachel "Retcon" Smythe had to have her cake and eat it too. I always worried something like this was a possibility, but I never thought she would actually prove me right - not only is Persephone only separated from Hades for three months out of the year, but actually he can visit her any time he wants to, so really, they're not separating at all.

I think Rachel needs to look up "reunion" in the dictionary, because if you can visit each other any time, then that means the 'reunions' are no longer special occasions. This completely removes any semblance of depth or meaning from all of the storytelling leading up to this, all of it with the expectation that this was a retelling of the Abduction of Persephone, because that's what Rachel said it was going to be. At this point it's safe to say that Rachel has zero business attempting to "retell" mythological stories, because she doesn't even seem to grasp the concept of why they were written the way they were to begin with. Either that, or she really just doesn't care, and the only reason for making LO a Greek myth comic at all was to propel her career.

This also brings me back to those promotional ads, the other one that posed the question, "Will sacrifice be enough to bring these two back together?"

This is stating the obvious, but I need to make it perfectly clear - Hades and Persephone have never sacrificed a single thing. The only thing they could POSSIBLY quantify as a "sacrifice" is "not being tied at the hip for a few hours", because even Persephone going on the equivalent of a work trip next door is apparently enough to make Hades sad as we saw in the 3 month time skip panels. Why is Hades so sad and lonely if he can visit her any time? Why is he acting like he hasn't seen her in years when he's actually on his way to reunite with her? Why is Hecate calling to ask him if he's "okay" as if he JUST got separated from her, but actually he's about to literally go to the Mortal Realm to reunite with her?

Hades hasn't 'sacrificed' a damn thing, neither has Persephone. They've both always gotten exactly what they wanted, even at the cost of breaking the story's own established rules. Their 'sacrifice' is equivalent to what billionaires think are 'sacrifices' when they can't buy another yacht or go on that third overseas vacation for the month.

And even outside of this episode, when have these two ever sacrificed anything?

I've tried so hard to think of what sacrifices have been made by the characters within LO, and I genuinely can only think of one - and that was when Artemis chose to go to the Mortal Realm with Persephone instead of staying with her family in Olympus. That was a genuine, selfless sacrifice, made by a character who has been shelved in favor of focusing on the self-centered pink and blue airheads.

Being forced to be apart for a couple days to do the equivalent of a day job and whining about it the whole time is not a 'sacrifice'. Neither of these characters have ever sacrificed anything, they just feel like sacrifices because they have the integrity and empathy of soggy cardboard.

sigh Anyways, we're back in the present and Hades and Persephone immediately decide they're gonna have sex because ofc, and then we get this gem of a panel-

MMMMMM

FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY JOKE

For some reason it's just a common thing for people to just be in Hades' home, and they can't seem to get any privacy as a result of this, but I digress. Turns out they still need to have that coronation for Persephone.

There is... so much wrong in these three panels.

First, to state the immediate issues - why the fuck are they mentioning Apollo at Persephone's coronation? Like first of all, no shit Apollo isn't gonna be there, but also, if this is supposed to be an event for and about Persephone becoming Queen of the Underworld, then why in the WORLD is Apollo even being mentioned? This is supposed to be a "feminist retelling" where the victims are empowered and heal from their trauma, but LO once again can't try to show any sort of positive growth for the victims without bringing up the assaulters and giving them screen time. It just goes to show that Rachel's idea of "healing" is purely rooted in the revenge, and not the growth. It's a very high schooler approach to this subject, hellbent on showcasing how all the meanies from the past are losers now and life just sucked for them forever, but inadvertently proving its own point that the victims haven't and can't move on because the narrative is spending so much time on caring what's going on with the abusers. It's the "I don't care! Look at how little I care! I'll prove it to you by putting in the effort of showing you how little I care!" approach, it doesn't really feel like moving on.

It's not about how Persephone and his other victims could have grown and healed, no, Rachel always needs to highlight just how much worse the bullies and haters and abusers are doing to make the victims seem like they've healed by comparison. Don't get me wrong, I can understand wanting to showcase the downfall of a character like Apollo, but this just... isn't the right context for that? Because it's once again taking attention away from the victim to focus on the abuser. It's once again spending screentime on the voices of the oppressors rather than the oppressed.

And speaking of, what the fuck is this punishment even? I knew Rachel wasn't gonna be able to resolve this plotline properly, she never had the capability to, but ... community service? Are you fucking for real? What is this even a punishment for even? Was this EXCLUSIVELY the SA, or does this ALSO include his attempts to overthrow Zeus by poisoning him, nearly killing Daphne, Eris, Eros and Psyche, trapping Eros and Psyche in an enchanted basement, and framing his father's 'death' on his half-sister? Because if so, how in the world is anyone content with community service? He hasn't even been turned into a mortal, HE'S STILL A GOD, so what's to stop him from going "WE'LL MEET AGAIN, SPIDERMAN" and trying something else? How is this a reasonable resolution in ANY context?

This is why I talked at length about what an issue it was to hide what Apollo really admitted to. Because now we really don't know what exactly he confessed to, and thus we can never really see the point of views of the victims outside of just Persephone - and we still don't even get Persephone's, because she just walks away from him and then he gets eaten by Ouranos and next we see of him is him doing community service! Once again, any emotional development that could be given to Persephone and the other victims is stripped away to make room for the point of views of the oppressive men. In this, the two-time-Eisner-winning "feminist comic" that is LO.

And that brings us to the "where are they now" segment. Yes, as we all feared, there's a "where are they now" segment, and it's as rushed and underwhelming as we ought to have expected it to be.

There is just... so much to unpack here, and yes, all of it is delivered in the dumbest way possible that only raises more questions than answers.

So Rhea and Metis are just back and we're not gonna talk about the implications of them being alive again?

Dionysus is a 3 month year old in the body of a teenager / young adult, and his mom is just alive now because Hades conveniently got his hands on more ambrosia and brought her back to life offscreen? But somehow Triptomelus and Hedone are still child-sized relative to their ages?

How did they 'heal Zeus'? And why is he so content with losing his power as King and Apollo being sentenced to community service after making an attempt on his life? How does he feel about the letter that Hera gave him? Did he even read it?

Where the fuck is Hebe in all of this? Is she okay? Do people still think it was her who put Zeus in a coma? Or did Apollo confess to that, too?

You're telling me Hera and Echo are just in a relationship now despite the fact that Hera is literally racist towards nymphs and there is ZERO reason for them to have a relationship in the comic beyond the fans making gratuitous headcanons out of it? How is Rachel, a bisexual woman, so bad at writing actual lesbian relationships and giving them the same amount of attention as the heterocis ones without shoving them into the background as props for insincere queer rep? And what about Hera herself? How did she overcome her role as the Goddess of Marriage to finally divorce Zeus?

"Ares is still a dog!" Haha! Ares is still a Persephone simp! Happy end!

Why is Eros just standing there smiling at the camera struggling to be seen past Hedone who's just floating right in front of him? You're telling me there wasn't a better place to put her out of that entire panel?

"Hades and Thanatos have been making more time for each other. Sometimes they even have a conversation." I'm sorry, is this supposed to be funny? The man abused Thanatos for years, treated him as just a lowly employee when he was literally his adopted son, and now you're trying to play it off as a joke that they're "making more time for each other"? What the fuck is this?

TGOEM disbanded? Why? What about the women who were genuinely a part of it?

Also, Artemis and Selene are just good friends now because reasons? Because they're both affiliated with the moon, I guess? Why is Selene even in this comic-

"They are still looking for Kassandra". Who? And why? This feels like such a last minute addition to acknowledge a character that the comic spent WEEKS foreshadowing only to have her finally appear as a pointless McGuffin, but it's so last minute that it does nothing. I'm assuming it's Eros and Psyche looking for her, but like... why can't they find her? They're gods, tracking down one mortal shouldn't be that difficult LOL ???

And also, where the fuck is Leto?? You're telling me she was an accessory - maybe manipulating Apollo, maybe not - but we don't see what happened to her? Is she just back to being a social outcast then? jesus christ this comic isn't finished-

Kassandra is where the "where are they now" sequence ends, and we're treated to one final horribly written dialogue scene between Hades and Persephone, where they tell each other how much they love each other in a desperate attempt to convince the audience that this is, in fact, a romance.

There's this thing in romances called chemistry, and if you're good at writing it, you shouldn't have to write dialogue like this. You should be able to see how much the characters love each other through their actions, through their small behaviors around each other. It's not always about what they say out loud, it's about what they don't have to say, because when two people really share that close of a bond based on love and trust and chemistry, words often aren't necessary.

Hades and Persephone do not have that chemistry. It has been apparent for years now, but this final exchange really is the nail in the coffin. There are no microexpressions or subtle emotions, no subtlety in their word choice, and nothing unique setting their voices apart. It's all just "wow thank you for being such a wonderful amazing partner, you are amazing and I love you" word salad that has to do all the heavy lifting for the completely non-existent chemistry that's been at its absolute worst throughout this entire season.

And worst of all, despite this story trying so hard to be focused around Persephone, around her story, her trauma and her healing, her voice... it's still all just about Hades. In the end, she's thanking Hades, and forcing him to say "you're welcome". All of it is trying so hard to convince us that Hades has been a positive addition to her life, that she 'owes' so much to him, but we've obviously seen plenty throughout the comic that begs to differ. And even if he were a better person than he is, it still doesn't change the fact that once again, the men are being held up above the women, with the women being grateful to the men who choose them. LO can try its hardest to convince people that it's feminist, but it is, at best, reinforcing the very same structures of the patriarchal system that it claims to despise and rebel against.

We do get one line from Hades acknowledging Persephone's part in the relationship-

-and it falls so fucking flat because it's still about him and what she does for him, and because nothing about their relationship was built on any sort of organic chemistry. There was a lot more chemistry back in S1, but it was still predicated on Hades lusting after a vulnerable 19 year old girl.

Yep, and that's it. That's the end.

Except it isn't because Rachel wanted to try and be smart by including an 'epilogue' that's really just stretching the episode out pointlessly for another few panels. And of course, we had to get another time skip, just a final dose of salt in the wound, this time to years ahead when we inevitably had to reconnect with Persephone and Hades in the future after Melinoe was born.

To recap, Melinoe doesn't remember... because Hades had Morpheus erase her memories.

This plotline has really started to give me the ick because it actually feels very familiar. Bear with me here, because I'm gonna go on a bit of a tangent about my own original work, but it's because I wrote a plotline exactly like this years ago.

There's this... turning point, in Time Gate: Reaper, when the main character Uzuki is kidnapped by a Reaper (see: undead) who wants to experiment on her in the hopes that he can somehow gain her abilities to bond her soul with others (which later allows her to literally possess people after she becomes a Reaper herself). Mitsuhiro, the male deuteragonist who kickstarts the plot by telling Uzuki she's got a limited amount of time left to live (which he knows thanks to his magical death timers that mark themselves on his skin), feels an immense amount of guilt after finding out she was kidnapped by the Reapers (at this point she's been gone for three months), as they were originally after him; he worries that she was made a target simply due to him associating himself with her, and vows to rescue her.

With the help of some other spunky teenagers and anime trope characters, Mitsuhiro does eventually rescue Uzuki - but for the three months she had been gone, she had been tortured, abused, and experimented on, causing her mind to split and for her to lose any sense of awareness of who Mitsuhiro or her other friends were. She was no longer herself after the hell she had been through.

Mitsuhiro's solution to this is to have Springlock - another Reaper with motivations that are not yet clear to the cast - erase her memory. This is not a light decision that comes without consequences - for the remaining duration of the story, Uzuki is plagued by night terrors and panic attacks, unable to really remember what happened to her aside from whatever brief flashbacks her brain recalls in its haze of memory loss. She is traumatized, both physically and mentally. She has lost three months of her life and memories, and doesn't know how to explain why she's covered in scars that are still healing, why she's missing organs, why she's now blind in one eye, and why the sound of scraping metal and ticking clocks gives her panic attacks. Mitsuhiro has convinced her friends that she's suffering from memory loss due to trauma, but only he knows the truth that he forcefully took her memories away from her, without her consent. This was not the right choice to make. It was not noble of him, it was not a grand gesture of love, he made a decision on her behalf without her consent that has now resulted in her becoming a nervous wreck. Sure, she still would have had PTSD if she remembered what happened, but at least she would know why and could then seek adequate help. Without those memories, she has nowhere to begin to heal. And so we see the consequences of this throughout [AFTERBIRTH] and even the upcoming Thread of Fate. It is a long-term problem that is not going to be solved overnight, especially not with Mitsuhiro withholding information from her.

Reading about Melinoe having dreams about her experiences trapped in Tartarus with Kronos ... it felt familiar enough that I had to talk about why the insinuations of this are so fucked up. I know there are people who are gonna handwave it away as "she's just a kid", "these are gods so what does it matter", etc. but ... it just feels like such an oversight to have Hades effectively erase her memory of her trauma and then hint at them still being present in her mind through her dreams. She did not ask for that. And the fact that she's now dreaming about it all does not bode well. But we're supposed to think Hades made the correct choice, regardless.

But none of this is effectively expanded on or explained, because we get one final scene of Melinoe and Demeter visiting Persephone, who has just given birth to... Makaria?

So it turns out Persephone and Hades are just able to have biological children now. Don't know why, but of course they both look exactly like Hades.

What I was really confused by though is the fact that it's Makaria and not Brimos. Do you remember Brimos? The child that was foreshadowed in Hades' original fantasy dream sequence about his future children about Persephone?

Either Rachel completely forgot about him, or she saw all the criticism over the fact that Brimos isn't a confirmed child of Hades and Persephone (rather, an epithet that can apply to basically any Underworld god including Persephone and Hades) and that her "research" was dependent on a book she read when she was 13 and decided to axe that. But she went to the effort of establishing that all the dreams Hades had were , in fact, canon visions of the future, so good job Rachel, you created yet another plothole on top of the hundreds of others.

And that's where the series ends, on a final nuclear-family-photo of Persephone, Hades, Melinoe, and Makaria. Of course, Dionysus and Thanatos aren't present in this shot because this is Lore Olympus and only biological children count /hj

Why Rachel couldn't move the "the end" portion to THIS part, I don't know, but I'm also expecting way too much of the person who finished this 20 minutes before it was due.

So that's it. Six years and that's what we get. I didn't expect much, but I was still incredibly disappointed, as were many others who walked away from this dazed and confused. Maybe it's all the "haters" deserve at this point. But what of the fans? While many of them are celebrating this ending at best and tolerating it at worst, I can't help but think of the fans of this comic who hung on for so long in the hopes it would "pay off", just for it to go out as gloriously as a wet fart.

As for me, I have such mixed feelings about Lore Olympus ending, but none of them pertain to the comic itself. Most of what I'll miss from this comic isn't the comic itself, but the people who have made reading it every week so fun, the artists and writers who have enriched the content with their own interpretations of what could have been, and the experiences of being part of such an amazing community made up of people who are as long-term-obsessed about this piece of media as I am.

I get people who ask me a lot if it's "worth it" to be so engrossed in the LO slander, who assume that I'm going to "regret" ever being a part of it all... but from where I'm standing right now, I couldn't ask for a better view.

Even if I didn't love every minute of it, everything I have here I owe to this comic. This stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing, pile of shit comic.

[wirewitchviolet]

Let's talk about how Ranma is trans in the 2024 anime, part 1

Way the hell back in 2018, after a random exchange with a friend, I sat down and wrote a series of four blog posts where I looked at the manga Ranma ½, which ran from 1988 to 1996, explicitly through a lens where I assumed the protagonist is in fact a trans girl. A major component of the series being that Ranma and several other characters fell into various pools in a cursed set of natural springs causing them to magically change into whatever tragically drowned in one when hit with cold water, then back to their original body with hot, and Ranma fell in the girl one, so it was bound to be a series that would crack a lot of eggs regardless, but my memory of reading it years before transitioning was that it worked on a mundane level too, particularly later. I did somehow forget a bit towards the end where Ranma honestly just kinda straight up comes out of the closet, but I'm not going to link to that panel yet again for the sake of preview links not blending together. Anyway, those posts were already the most popular things I ever put on this blog and have never stopped circulating, despite it being a pretty old and largely forgotten series at the time.

I had always had the idea that I really should go back and also watch the anime adaptation(s) of Ranma, which deviates a good bit from the manga, but that is 161 episodes, 3 movies, and 11 OAVs which are terribly terribly paced, and I don't actually get paid for this. But then lo and behold, here's a brand new anime adaptation coming out decades later, looking really nice, and surely that will deviate even more from the source material, so here I am diving in to find all new bits of gender stuff to talk about, under the fold here and-

Oh. Turns out the new anime series is actually an EXTREMELY faithful adaptation of the original manga and the only deviations I've actually noticed are that there's a little bit less nudity and the one scene with Ranma's breasts fully on display goes the route of not drawing nipples. And really that's only significant because the original anime adaptation somehow got away with that one. Speaking of the original anime run, this adaptation brings back the entire surviving voice cast, and continues the tradition of coloring Ranma's hair red in cold-water form as an extra tell for the audience. And speaking of color, one thing this adaptation does now and then that I really appreciate is punctuating certain scenes with the sort of cool pastel palettes (see above) that were used for the cover illustrations of the original manga.

Another thing the 2024 anime does is throw in a quick little vignette before the opening credits of each episode to restate that Ranma and Akane are engaged, and the feminizing water thing, which mostly feels like it's there as just a little extra emphasis that regardless of all the other shenanigans going on, those two are the one actual couple and making it clear that the rest of the tangled web of crushes and obsessions don't really matter. Something I feel like this adapatation is keen to emphasize in general. In fact, being as nearly 1 to 1 an adaptation as it is, the title of every episode is directly lifted from the chapter names of the manga, so we can just slap together a little infographic and see what's getting compressed a bit and what's getting the time it needs to breathe!

We're chewing through the extended fight scenes pretty quick and slowing down any time Akane's having an emotional moment or some time in the spotlight basically. Which makes sense since the action scenes in the manga are like all full page splash images with a word of text and need to be flowing quickly, and because we have the benefit of hindsight knowing that the Kunos become irrelevant real quick. We're also squeezing out a little early identity crisis stuff for Ranma in the process (there's an early dream sequence after first meeting Kuno, coming to grips with the whole "since I'm a girl, dudes want to sleep with me" realization that barely makes it in and a few early moments of internalized misogyny that get dropped), and we really give Shampoo's debut some space (not QUITE as much as the above suggests, most of episode 10 is wrapping up a three parter on the ice skating with her just punching through the wall as a cliffhanger at the end).

The whole thing is also paced out to nicely cover the first four volumes of the manga, out of 38. They might up the compression rate a little, but as it stands, it's going to take another 8 or 9 seasons to get through everything at this rate. In comparison, my first blog post got through three times this much of it, but the original anime covered only the first half of this in the same episode count (and then for some reason introduced Shampoo and Mousse early and didn't get through the ice skating until episode 27).

Anyway, like I said, this doesn't really change things up enough to have a lot to say about how clearly Ranma is trans. Jumping back to the start though yet again, it really cannot be emphasized enough though just how clearly, even from the very first episode, she is SO much more comfortable presenting as a girl, not at all nervous meeting Akane's family like that, then suddenly super tense and awkward and closed off when interacting with... really anyone while boy-moding. So I guess it's time to bust out some of these other lenses to look at this...

Let's talk about how Akane is gay, part 1

I mean, we've established she's into Ranma, with extra emphasis in this adaptation, and we've established that Ranma is in fact a girl, but that's just the one data point. What else do we have? Well, she's quite explicitly not a fan of guys, particularly guys who are attracted to her, and we're keeping plenty of a focus on that while not wasting time trying to pretend Kuno matters at all in the grand scheme of things. The closest she ever comes to showing interest in a guy is Dr. Kuno, and the anime here is strongly emphasizing how that's less of a real crush and more just emulating her oldest sister (Nabiki of course is also some flavor of queer, and I don't think anyone has ever questioned that) since that's kinda what you do, right? She also gets intensely jealous of the idea of Shampoo kissing Ranma while assuming Ranma is a girl, talks about how hot she is, and hell, at the start of things when everyone's assuming they've somehow gotten into a situation where one of the three sisters has to marry a cis girl, Nabiki points out how that works out perfectly for her. Because she is extremely gay.

Let's talk about how Ryoga is trans, part 1

OK so this isn't the same absolute slam dunk as Ranma turned out to be, but there is a surprisingly strong case to argue that Ryoga is also a trans girl. What do we know about Ryoga after all? Real real socially awkward. Only has one sorta-friend from childhood, who turned out to be trans later. Can we call Ryoga a furry? I'm not even talking about the pig curse, but there's this whole feral wolf vibe before that's even established. In a series where basically every guy who is ever introduced is a horny creep obsessed with rigid gender roles, Ryoga does not bat an eye at seeing women naked (which comes up oddly often), spends a lot of these early arcs hanging out with the gal pals to help practice gymnastics and skating, deals well enough with the pink heart collar and being called Charlotte, and like so many of us, Ryoga is introduced to the series indignantly sputtering about how Ranma's situation shouldn't really be called a curse and is a situation we'd be happy to be in. You could argue that Ryoga's saying this just relative to the pig curse, I guess, but I do at least get the vibe that Ryoga wouldn't be too super worried about finding hot water with that one.

Speaking of the pig curse, I feel like every time I revisit Ranma I have a different perspective on the whole "P-Chan" situation. With this adaptation, it does feel significantly closer to "it's really just this super awkward situation where I've been looking for a good moment to explain and at this point it's been so long she'll probably kill me" than "I am a loathsome sex offender using a disguise to snuggle up with this girl who thinks I am a small animal" and Ranma is doing an appropriate amount of "I'm not going to blurt it out, but you should seriously come clean already" so, glad to know we're downplaying that.

Also, the emphasis on Ranma and Akane as The Couple in this adaptation really makes it clear that Ryoga isn't so much into Akane as just kinda... incapable of conceiving of any sort of existence that doesn't involve being Ranma's rival/friend/polycule member.

Anyway, I guess that's where I have to leave this until the second season drops? Have a patreon link?

[kradogsrats]

How Does Your Garden Grow: Terry's s4-s7 Slow-Build Arc

So, Terry. A character who could be objectively called the goodest among the main cast. We've been waiting through four seasons to really figure him out... or I have, at least. Maybe everyone else got him from the start.

Anyway, Terry's arc is a very slow burn that only comes becomes clear in s7, because it's revealed primarily through two sequences of scenes that echo each other—the first in s4, and the second when s7 finally comes back to tuck that s4 sequence into bed and kiss it gently on the forehead. This means that in order to really grasp how Terry develops, we need to examine and compare those sequences, both to each other and in the context of what we see of Terry in the intervening time.

God's Most Plant-Based Clown...

Fun fact: Aaron Ehasz apparently named Terry as his favorite character at SDCC 2019, during the s3 hype tour [citation vague]. He probably didn't expect that it would take another two and a half years of real time for us to actually meet Terry, but them's the breaks.

We don't really know a lot about Terry for the first few episodes of s4, where he's suddenly thrown in as a new main character alongside all the ones we had already known and loved for years. We can see he's a little anxious and awkward, but he lights up with confidence in his dynamic with Claudia to the point that he'll discuss the smell of his own farts in front of her dad. He has an incredible amount of compassion for Viren, repeatedly offering up deep emotional vulnerability even though Viren radiates nothing but aloof dislike for him. He seems to have no problem with Claudia's dark magic, such as the pufferbat breathing spell, even when the credits go out of their way to remind the audience that hey, those pufferbats had families, too.

He's obviously good for Claudia, which (as intended) immediately makes us turn around and question whether Claudia is good for him. He is, after all, an elf, and she's a dark mage. She has already done, by her own admission, things she "never imagined [she] would be able to do"—and this from the girl who once killed a baby deer with her bare hands. Does Terry not know about these deeds? Is she using him? Is he secretly a nihilistic sadist beneath his perky, easygoing exterior?

He's just a mystery wrapped in an enigma rolled up around a chewy marshmallow center, then dipped in crushed-up pretzels (since nuts are an allergy risk).

However Dangerous

But Terry does reach what we can clearly see is a crossroads of development fairly early in s4, when he kills Ibis to protect Claudia. This is a Big Deal—he immediately breaks down crying, to the point that despite being injured, Claudia prioritizes comforting him. Later, he's unable to sleep, instead crying over both Ibis and himself... or rather, what he had no choice but to do.

Viren, perhaps seeing a tiny sliver of his teenage self in Terry, offers him some advice regarding how to make peace with doing what you have to for those you love:

VIREN: But there is an aching pain mixed with love that you feel in these moments. In the name of love, you may perform acts so unforgivable... you will never forgive yourself. TERRY: Please, how do I live with this? How do I deal with these feelings? VIREN: I will tell you how. TERRY: Yes! Please, I need to know.

Of course, he's still Viren. Fatherly advice isn't exactly his strong suit. He also technically hasn't had a full night's sleep in two years.

Now, the writers could have left it at that. It's a good scene. It's a good character interaction. It sets up like 90% of Viren's remaining arc—as the first appearances of both "I had no choice" and "however dangerous, however vile"—and a not insignificant part of the entirety of arc 2, itself.

But they don't, and that's where it really becomes about Terry, because the next time he and Viren are hanging out (in s4e7, titled "Beneath the Surface" in an example of having zero chill), he brings it up again. He respectfully tells Viren that he's given it a lot of thought, and what Viren proposed isn't what he wants to do. He doesn't even say Viren is wrong, just that it isn't right for him:

I think what you're trying to say is... Is that I should stop having feelings. Well, I'm not going to do that. No way, I-I'm gonna be strong enough to do whatever I need to do and have feelings.

This is, in a way, Terry affirming his true heart—he's not going to give that up, even if letting go of the compassion that made killing so devastating to him (and probably narrowing his understanding of who and what is worthy of it) would make things easier. He's going to be strong enough to not have to do that.

It's not a coincidence that the very next scene for them includes Terry coming out, because both are about Terry's chosen identity.

This isn't only about Terry being trans—what he's saying here is essentially, "I know who I am, and I am who I choose to be. I won't change for your or anyone else's approval."

Viren's response, which I previously always found kind of baffling, is actually perfect:

Like, as responses to someone coming out... it's not awful, and it definitely sounds like something Viren would say. But just like Terry is affirming more than just his trans identity, what Viren is actually doing here is acknowledging the strength in who Terry has chosen to be—someone who is (I remind you) strong enough to "have all the feelings." Someone who can both act on his love for individuals he's close to, and retain his deep compassion for everyone else. Viren isn't going to try to change him, or convince him that he'll be happier another way—both because he's very, very tired and has no investment in Terry being one way versus another, and because I genuinely think some very small part of him is like, "god, I wish that were me."

Of course, what's being ignored here is whether what Terry wants to be is even possible.

... Fighting His Vegan-est Battles

So about that. As s4 winds down and we progress through s5, we obviously see a lot more of Terry, and we get a much better grip on exactly what his deal is in the dynamic between him and Claudia and dark magic:

This scene shows us several things. First, the compassion of Terry's true heart: he feels for Rayla's grief, despite the fact that she was, by all appearances, 100% prepared to cut his throat a full... ten seconds ago. Second, that Terry is at least superficially okay with Claudia's dark magic because he believes in her reasons: the only times he calls her out on her actions are when he feels they don't have her love for her father driving them—namely her tormenting Rayla and later the water dragon. And third, that Terry actually disconnects himself from Claudia's choices at the most basic level: he doesn't suggest she go back and correct her behavior, though he's presumably glad that she does. He's very much a bystander to all of her actions.

Like, he very obviously loves Claudia. We see this in his quiet, consistent care for her—anticipating her needs, focusing on her wellness when she disregards it, calming her down and/or cheering her up, even just carrying her shit around. (Like, her staffs! Both of them!) For him, it's entirely about her as a person, and a person who is fundamentally good, as all people are. She's a girl so full of love that she'd tear herself apart for it, if Terry wasn't there to pick up the pieces. He spends all of s5 making sure she doesn't have some kind of exhaustion-driven breakdown.

Then we hit s6, which is a series of crucial turning points for Claudia, that Terry... also unconditionally supports her through.

Which would be beautiful, except that Claudia's turning points tend to include thing like straight-up murdering what was, if not a child, then at least the equivalent of the family's weird but beloved dog.

Now, I don't think chewing her out over that would have been the right (or productive) thing to do. Really Terry handles her breakdown in probably the best way possible, all things considered. But after that, he treats her questioning everything she's ever believed with a degree of passivity that like... I guess would be good for a therapist, but not necessarily someone you love and have watched hurt themself with their own choices for two years straight.

CLAUDIA: Please, Terry. Tell me what to do. TERRY: Claudia, I can't. Only you can see your own deep truth. Only you can decide the path you're going to walk. You won't be alone. I'll clear out the thorny brambles if I see them, I'll hold your hand as we trudge through wet, mucky leaves. But... you have to choose the way.

Again, he's not strictly wrong, and it's a beautiful sentiment... but he offers no input whatsoever when she's weighing things like "When my dad left, I thought he lost his mind" versus "He seemed so strangely hopeful. So certain." He has no problem claiming Viren obviously found peace in s7, so it's not that he doesn't have an opinion. He just seems to not want to influence her on principle.

Maybe that's because he knows Claudia is so easily influenced and pins her identity entirely to external things or people, and he doesn't want to be another one of those. Which is valid. However, taking this position (or lack thereof) also conveniently absolves him of any responsibility for the choices she subsequently makes—they're her choices, after all. If she winds up hurting people, it's not like he could have stopped her. He'll hold her hand, as if doing so leaves no blood on his own.

This is something that starts to change at the end of s6 and into s7, mostly because suddenly Terry isn't the only influence on Claudia—if he wants her to be making her own choices in a vacuum, he has to balance out Aaravos, who has zero qualms about manipulating her when she's extremely vulnerable. Terry gets a bit more assertive to combat that manipulation, especially when Aaravos is being extremely obvious about it...

But really, by then it's too late.

However Vile

Finally, in s7, we reach the denouement of everything that has subtly been building around Terry. We find out that he has a true heart, a feature everyone is born with but most eventually lose:

More on that, and Ezran, in my eventual true heart meta.

Aaravos then sets Terry up in a very specific way—he sends Terry to find two feathers from a shimmercrow, one large and one very small. Terry happily complies, relieved that the request wasn't something "weird or creepy." However, as always with Aaravos, the task is half straightforward and half a manipulation. He uses the large shimmercrow feather to give the half-completed primal stone flight for its journey around the world, but the small feather...

Aaravos has Terry bring him to where the feathers were found, where he knows there will be both an adult crow and chicks. He brutally murders the mother crow in front of Terry, while calmly explaining how they will use her dying fear and pain to open the In-Between. It's only a key. A tool.

In the ensuing confrontation, he also drives home to Terry that a) it's too late to easily sway Claudia away from him, and b) it doesn't matter, because Claudia is also like this. Claudia uses him. Claudia tells him half-truths, ostensibly to "protect" him, but really to protect herself from him deciding to leave her.

Aaravos has a definite agenda here—he needs Terry's influence, the influence that makes Claudia question whether it's right to hide things from him, removed from her. Either Terry's true heart has to go, or he does. It's time for him to, shall we say... "get a grip":

The true heart is a gift of childhood. For a few wonder-filled years, we each have innocent eyes to experience the world's beauty in a simple way. I have seen generations of humans and elves accept the darkness that lurks in all of us beside the light. There is no black or white, only shades of gray. We must all carry complexity. But please believe me that there is beauty in this burden. Your heart will be a little heavier. But now, there will be no more half-truths, Terrestrius.

Just like in s4, it has been suggested to Terry that he let go of the identity he has chosen. The identity where he's committed to having all the feelings—crying for Ibis, pitying Rayla, mourning Sir Sparklepuff. Doing "what must be done" is positioned as now being incompatible with who he is.

And again, Terry is not going to give up who he is:

Not for anyone. He knows where the lines he has drawn are, and he won't move them just because it's Claudia who has crossed them.

So Terry leaves—but there's one thing that Aaravos has done that goes unstated, and while it's maybe not a major factor (compared to all the other major factors) in Terry leaving, it is the critical factor in his growth:

He has made Terry complicit. Without Terry, Aaravos would not have found and killed the mother bird... and he has been complicit all along. He couldn't stop Aaravos this time, but how many similar tragedies could he have stopped when it was just him and Claudia?

And so here, for the first time, he goes back to make things right. He didn't go back for Ibis, or for Rayla, or anyone else Claudia hurt in the name of love, or who he, also in the name of love, allowed her to hurt. But he goes back for the baby shimmercrows, to comfort and care for them now that their mother is gone, and he goes back to people who (rightfully) consider him an enemy, to help them stop Aaravos.

Just to make sure we really get it, they even have him say it out loud:

Should Bloom a Week or Two Early

Anyway, I think they did something really beautiful and complex with Terry, in that there's no question he loves Claudia—they took three entire seasons to show us how much he loves her, at her highest and lowest points, selflessly and unconditionally. With Callum and Rayla slowly easing back into their peak perfect romance during the same period, his love for Claudia is also not treated as less real or important. We all knew it was probably more than a little doomed, but he's not foolish or wrong to love her.

He doesn't even stop loving her, or decide she's no longer good enough for him to love. He leaves because in order to keep loving her, he has to also love himself. He won't change who he is to stay with her, because he's fought too hard to become that person. With Callum willing to give up everything he is for Rayla at a moment's notice—something that really works only because Rayla would never ask him to, and in fact is staunchly against it—Terry having a solid identity and refusing to compromise it is a reflecting alternate perspective on love.

He's also the most emotionally mature and objectively good person in the cast, but ultimately his arc shows that neither of those exempt him from doing harm passively or even actively—and growth, from that point, is acknowledging that harm and working to heal it. In a story where most of the beloved characters have done wildly questionable things or are defined by their maladaptive coping mechanisms for deep personal trauma, Terry being so generally stable and (all things considered) normal, but still able to develop and grow is actually pretty special.

And, of course, now that he's grown... he's ready for a road trip even wackier than "my girlfriend and I hauling around her dad's formerly-dead body on our way to break a fallen god out of prison."

[adobe-outdesign]

Kung Fu Panda 4 Rewrite Thing

Been chewing on this movie for a while now and wanted to take a shot at improving it. Some parts are a bit rough but I think this gets the general idea across.

As a rule, I'm trying to keep most of the characters and elements/plot beats in place rather than spinning things off in a completely unrelated direction. I also am aware of the restrictions placed on this movie, such as an unwillingness to rehire high-profile VAs and runtime limitations. This is just meant to be a "what if" kind of thing. That said:

We open with a stylized sequence of Po telling the story of his and the Five's latest battle. As it ends it's revealed he's at the grand opening of Mr. Ping's brand new bigger, better noodle shop location, talking to the customers.

As one of them asks where the Five are now, Po explains that they got summoned to their own individual missions, but they'll be back soon.

(Yes I am still having them be MIA, as Po needs to be alone with Zhen for part of the movie. However, they'll only gone for the first part of this rewrite and for a very specific plot-related reason.)

(The thing with Po needing to give up his title of Dragon Warrior makes no sense for multiple reasons, so let's just drop that plot point entirely. I get that it's meant to tie into the "change" moral, but I'd rather have Po imparting this lesson onto Zhen instead of learning it himself, as otherwise it undermines the character growth he had in 3.

Also, Po isn't carrying the staff around with him constantly in this rewrite, as it looks a bit silly and isn't plot relevant here.)

A messenger shows up to report that the Jade Palace is under attack. Po decides to rush over just in case Shifu needs backup... which he does, because he's being kidnapped in a small one of those magic-proofed cages from the actual film.

(Shifu being kidnapped was tossed around in the writing room originally and I want to keep it in this rewrite because it A) gives Shifu something to do, and B) I want to allow Zhen to openly be working with the Chameleon in order to help flesh out her character and avoid the lackluster plot twist, meaning she'll need new leverage against Po later on.)

The figure behind the kidnapping appears to be Master Elephant, which confuses Po as he's been missing for several months. Right as he's about to land a finishing blow, the figure shape shifts into Master Chicken, throwing Po's attack and resulting in him getting a bad head injury. He does his best to pursue the attackers, but can't keep up. Dismayed, he returns to the Jade Palace...

...And finds Zhen trying to steal something, using the commotion outside as a distraction. Po fights, but he's still badly injured and can't give it his all, resulting in Zhen being able to slip away with her prize—a dust bunny from under the furniture. Po is baffled.

(Side note: I would probably redesign Zhen so she actually looks like she matches the other characters' style, but I digress.)

Feeling dismayed, he returns to the noodle shop, where both his dads work on treating his wounds and comforting him. As Po explains what happened, Mr. Ping mentions that customers have been circulating rumors about a shapeshifting sorceress in Juniper City. Po decides that that's where he needs to go, promises his dads he'll be safe, and leaves.

(I'm cutting Mr. Ping and Li's subplot, because as much as I love them they don't really add much to the plot. It also feels like it goes against Mr. Ping's characterization in KFP 1 and 2 in particular.)

This is where we can have the scene of the Chameleon vs. the crime bosses. This can mostly stay the same except one of the bosses attempts to attack her when she shape shifts, causing her to retaliate with a magic-based attack. She also needs to straight-up kill the guy to establish her and her sorcery as a legit threat.

Po arrives at the Happy Bunny tavern to look for a ride to Juniper City. As he talks to Fish and Chip, he notices Zhen nearby doing some black market trading with Granny Boar to obtain a white feather. Po confronts her and she tries to run out with the feather, causing the boar family to pursue in a big fight scene.

Po and Zhen manage to escape, Zhen stashing the feather. Po threatens to have her sent to jail, but Zhen confirms she's working for the Chameleon and can lead Po to her so he can rescue Shifu. Po dislikes this situation, but has no choice but to agree.

(Unlike in the actual film, I would make it so her lair is hidden in some fashion; magic that keeps it camouflaged would be appropriate for a chameleon, or it could be underground or hidden behind something. Regardless, it should be impossible to locate without Zhen's assistance.)

On the boat ride over to Juniper city, Zhen says that she has to "obtain" one more item from the local history museum or she'll be in big trouble with the Chameleon. Po doesn't like this detour, but once again has no choice in the matter.

Po asks why Zhen would want to work for someone so obviously evil, and this is the point where Zhen admits she was adopted by the Chameleon and we get her backstory.

(I would establish that the Chameleon has an actual name, but only Zhen uses it. It shows that Zhen is closer to her than most, not quite seeing her as a mother but not fearing her enough to use her preferred title. Also, the Chameleon's the only KFP villain without a proper name and that bothers me.)

The backstory can be the same, but the part about her living on the streets and meeting the Chameleon for the first time should be merged into a single flashback.

Zhen says that Po couldn't understand, but Po reveals that he's also adopted, and that he probably would commit some noodle-related crime if his dad asked him to. Still, Zhen insists that people don't change, and that includes her.

They arrive at Juniper city (Po is impressed at its size but he very much is not acting like he's never seen a city before). Zhen covers up her muzzle and tucks her tail under her clothes so she won't be recognized.

Zhen is ready to break into the museum, but Po says that he's got this and goes up to the guards to tell them that he has some official Dragon Warrior business to take care of and will need to borrow some ancient artifacts.

Unlike in the actual film, everyone ready acknowledges him as the Dragon Warrior. The guards are more than happy to loan him whatever he needs... until Zhen's tail pops out and the guards recognize her, prompting them to attack.

During the scuffle, Zhen uses a chi blast to knock back one of the guards, but almost gets taken out by the other guard coming up behind her. Po defends her but gets mildly injured as a result.

After the fight, Po asks about the chi move and Zhen states that the Chameleon taught her the basics.

Zhen confirms that the Chameleon is a master of chi, and that the sorcery she uses is a specific type of chi manipulation.

(The reason I'm connecting chi to her powers is that it makes them feel a bit less out of left field, and helps 4 feel like a logical progression from 3.)

Zhen admits that she's not very good at using chi, but Po points out that it took him years to use chi in battle. He also compliments her on her kung fu, and she confirms she's self-taught.

(In this rewrite, Zhen is good at fighting but not quite at the level she is in the actual movie. This is to address the issue of who taught her if the Chameleon doesn't know kung fu.)

He takes a moment to give her a few pointers, which causes her to ask why he took that blow for her earlier, figuring there's a catch. Po just says it's the right thing to do, but Zhen is skeptical, figuring he only did it because he still needs her to lead him to Shifu.

The reminder of Shifu prompts Po to move on, and they grab the item Zhen was after, a 500 year old set of blades, then run for it.

Po and Zhen arrive at the Chameleon's lair, and Zhen shows Po how to get inside and tells him where Shifu is being held. She says that she'll take the items to the Chameleon, which will distract her while Po breaks him out. Po thanks her, and the two separate. Zhen warns him of booby traps on the way out.

There are indeed booby traps, such as those saw contraptions from the actual movie and a bunch of guards. It takes Po a few minutes, but he eventually gets through them.

Po finds Shifu being held in a dark room. Shifu is glad to see him, but warns him to be careful as the Chameleon's likely not far away. Po explains Zhen's distraction and moves to free him... only for a cage to fall down and trap him as well.

"Shifu" is then revealed to be the Chameleon in disguise, who slips through the bars via shape shifting into a mantis and thanks Zhen for her help. Zhen apologizes to Po, who's naturally upset ("I mean, I know you were evil, but I didn't think you were THAT evil").

Zhen hands over the three items she collected, and it's confirmed what they are: a dust bunny that contains a clump of Tai Lung's fur, a feather from Lord Shen, and a pair of blades once wielded by Kai.

Po mistakenly interprets this as the Chameleon being a collector of kung fu memorabilia and tries to chat about the Jade Palace's collection, much to her bafflement.

The Chameleon explains that a trace of a person's chi remains long after their death, and demonstrates by doing The Tongue Thing on Kai's blade, stripping its chi, and immediately taking his form.

(As you may have picked up on, this rewrite removes the spirit world elements entirely. While they are really interesting, I think cutting them is the best option because:

1. There is so much plot involved with bringing Po's old enemies back that you could make that an entire movie in and of itself. It's hard to do it justice when you're cramming it in around the edges of this movie.

2. It makes the Chameleon too similar to Kai in terms of abilities.

3. Having her rely on stealing other's kung fu makes her come across as weak despite being a powerful sorceress.)

Po asks her if her goal is to take over China, but she says no; she just wants to end the practice of kung fu for good, and prove that sorcery is the superior option. To prove it, she has Shifu brought in.

While having your chi stripped does not remove one's kung fu abilities in this rewrite, it is still removing part of one's life energy and thus weakening them severely for a period of time—ergo, Shifu is still unable to fight at his best. Still, he manages to hold his own.

Instead of using kung fu, the Chameleon relies on the brute animalistic strength and inherent abilities of the forms she takes, switching whenever she's loosing to keep her opponents on her toes and even transforming into Shifu himself for a period. She also uses a few chi-based attacks.

Just when it looks like Shifu is about to win the fight, she uses her tongue to strip the chi from the fur clump, taking the form of Tai Lung. Shifu is so shocked and distraught that he fails to attack, allowing the Chameleon to land a serious blow.

She returns to her original form and states that when the blood moon has risen, she will battle and take down every master in the middle of Juniper city, where everyone can learn just how useless kung fu and the people who teach it are. She leaves Po in his cage panicking over Shifu, who's unresponsive.

Zhen follows the Chameleon outside, where we get the "does the blood moon always rise so slowly" gag. Noticing that Zhen looks troubled, she asks what's wrong, and Zhen talks about how Po encouraged her to do the right thing. Even though she's been told that kung fu masters are elitist, selfish people, she couldn't see any of that in Po.

(Side note: I want to establish in this rewrite that while the Chameleon will claim up and down that Zhen is only a pawn for her to use, she does care about her to some extent, even though probably loathes the fact she does. For example, when talking to Zhen here, she might pick some rubble out of her fur or something to show there's a teeny tiny bit of actual affection hidden there.

The reason for this is that all other KFP villains have had an emotional anchor—Shifu for Tai Lung, Shen's parents for Shen, and Oogway for Kai. The Chameleon being abusive but having some real love for Zhen and Zhen struggling with her gaslighting adds a lot more depth to both of them.)

The Chameleon finally reveals her backstory, which should be told in a hyper-stylized way à la the flashbacks in KFP 2 and 3. Just like Zhen, she grew up on the streets as an orphan, broke and starving. She admired kung fu greatly and wanted to learn it, but everyone turned her away for having no money to pay for lessons.

One day, she found a shiny jade amulet on the streets that someone lost, finally giving her a much-needed break. She is able to use that money to enroll in classes.

The problem was that while the money changed her financial status, it didn't change the way people saw her. Her master still considered her a lowly gutter rat and treated her as such, verbally insulting her and beating her down during training sessions. It's very much like how Shifu treated Po in KFP 1, except worse, especially because the Chameleon is a small and fragile animal.

Finally, during one training session she became too injured to move. Her master told her to quit and started to walk away, only for her to grab his leg with her tongue to trip him up. However, at the peak of her self-loathing, she instead discovered her chi stealing abilities and transformed into him. It's not shown, but it is implied she killed him.

As the flashback ends, the Chameleon shifts into Zhen and tells her that no matter how much you change, you can't change the way other people see you. Siding with Po, she says, will only get her hurt. Zhen nods and unexpectedly hugs the Chameleon, telling her she knows, and runs off.

Cutting back to Po, we see him frantically trying to break the bars of his cage. Zhen comes forward and drops down on her hands and knees, apologizing for everything. Po says that she came back, and that's what matters.

She reveals that the "hug" was actually just a way for her to get the key off of the Chameleon, and she uses it to unlock Po's cage. Po runs over to Shifu and he and Zhen heal him with chi, and we get a callback to the "I'M NOT DYING YOU IDIOT" scene from KFP 1.

However, while Shifu's not dying, he is very badly injured and can barely walk on his own. Po asks how they can take on the Chameleon and her army with just three of them, but Zhen holds up the key and suggests they get an army of their own.

Running downstairs, Zhen reveals where the other masters are being held. To Po's shock, the Furious Five are among those captured. Tigress confirms that the summons they received were traps laid by the Chameleon, and she already has their forms.

Also down there are the other crime bosses, as it feels like they just disappear in the actual film after their scenes.

Zhen only manages to unlock the Five's cages before before the Chameleon snatches the key back with her tongue, revealing that she knew Zhen was lying to her. Behind her, her army assembles.

Tigress confirms that that the Five will take on the army, and Po faces off with the Chameleon one-on-one. She strips the feather and uses Shen's form to fly up and take the upper ground, trying to kick a cage onto him. Zhen helps deflect it, and the Chameleon tells her to stay out of the way. Po and her continue to battle.

Despite Po's best attempts at blocking it, she does finally stick him with her tongue. He grabs it and throws her a distance in her fragile base form, injuring her but still giving her some of his chi in the process.

The Chameleon takes on Po's form next, and we get a fight similar to the one in the movie, though once again with her using less kung fu and more magic and physical attacks.

She mentions how she was rejected and tries to tell him that he should be on her side, because a bit fat panda like him must have been treated just as badly as she was. Po denies this, but Shifu admits it's pretty accurate. Po says he's not helping.

Po admits that she has a point, except she forgot one thing, and we get a callback to the "I'm THE big fat panda" moment from KFP 1.

The two attack at the same time. As the dust clears, it's revealed that neither are doing great—Po has gotten a lot of little injuries and the chi stealing has weakened him. The Chameleon is struggling to shapeshift at all, with the attempt causing her pain, and instead settles for trying to blast him. Zhen steps in and manages to redirect the attack back at her.

The Chameleon takes the blow and ends up back on the floor as a parallel to her flashback. Zhen reaffirms that she disagrees with her worldview—people can change, and she's going to prove it. If the Chameleon wants get to Po, she'll need to get through her first.

The Chameleon kind of laughs this off at first before realizing she's dead serious. She states that Zhen isn't even good at fighting, but Po disagrees, giving Zhen a confidence boost. The Chameleon struggles to her feet as if readying an attack, everyone braces themselves... and she surrenders, too injured to fight and unable to bring herself to hurt Zhen.

(There are a few reasons why I think her surrendering makes for an interesting defeat here:

1. There's no spirit realm portal to yeet her into in this version;

2. There's only so many times Po's enemies can be yeeted directly into the spirit realm before it gets old;

3. It adds character depth, and;

4. It ties back nicely in to the theme of change and that it's never too late to do the right thing.)

Zhen helps the Chameleon up, Tigress does the same for Po, and Monkey does the same for Shifu. The five reveal that despite being exhausted, they still managed to wipe the floor with the Chameleon's army, which Zhen thinks is incredible. Po introduces Zhen to them formally, and Shifu asks if they can save the introductions for after they get medical treatment.

Later on, Po (carrying the staff Oogway gave him) approaches Zhen, who's sitting under the peach tree by the Jade Palace. He asks her if she's doing okay after everything that's happened. She says she's alright, but is pretty scared of what's going to happen next, given that the Chameleon's in jail and she has nowhere to go.

Po reveals that him and Shifu have been talking, and he plans to open a new school as part of the Jade Palace that will offer free kung fu lessons to anyone who's interested in learning. Zhen asks if there are any spots open, and we end similar to the actual movie, with her training alongside the five.

the credits still end with the Jack Black cover of Baby One More Time because it slaps

[noddytheornithopod]

ALRIGHT PEEPOS

TIME TO NERD OUT OVER THIS NEW PREVIEW

We got credits on the cut up instagram version: Directed by Amber Tornquist Hollinger, who was a director on Hamster and Gretel

Written by Scott Peterson, makes sense the head writer will do the first ep

Brandi Young is producer, she's been this for Hamster and Gretel and Candace Against the Universe.

Bryan L. Francis and Sang Young Ha did the storyboards.

First... the kids are in middle school! They're growing up!!!!

This actually ties into Isabella saying she looks forward to junior high in Cranius Maximus, so neat detail if intentional. Though Doof 101 implies that they go to elementary school, though as the PnF wiki says when it catalogues this continuity hiccup, maybe they were just visiting the old school to give them neat stuff. :P Also a different school to the one in Milo Murphy's Law.

Sorry to let the Phinabella brainrot take hold, but... LOOK AT HER. SHE LOVES HIM SO MUCH. SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD LISTEN TO HIM ALL DAY!!!!

...okay, got that out of my system. Baljeet also taking notes, no surprise there.

"We saved the world... again!" Make that all of time and space. But yeah, you seem to end up doing that a lot, huh?

Phineas and Ferb broke up their report over what they did over Summer over the entire freaking school year. Honestly they probably didn't even need to do this given EVERYONE would know what they were up to, but hey, commitment to the bit.

HEY THIS WASN'T YOU

Did Baljeet always look this weird facing forward?

They recoloured some of the extras, do the old ones still exist or are they now the guys lol

Even the teacher is dancing to Phineas singing!

Django's spotted! Also, no glasses Irving shot, lol.

Wait did her hair always go pointy at the end or is this a new animation thing

u ok jeet

HMMMMMM

More forward facing weirdness

"Venomous insectoid robot duty for the last 9 months." Well guess we know Perry's main job in that time, besides all the other times he got tangled up with Doof. :P

I can tell Maulik finds it harder to do the Baljeet voice now, gonna take some getting used to.

Love that Candace is able to get them to build all of the ideas they suggest, like just as an offhand suggestion hoping Phineas will take it, which he does. She made a good play here, she knows that Phineas is good natured and assumes the best like that. Way better manipulative behaviour than whatever was tried in Suddenly Suzy. :v Can't wait to see how EVERYTHING disappears, cuz that was a LOT of ideas.

Also, we got an article from Variety listing some neat stuff! Stuff that sticks out to me.

“In fact, we have one of the new writers who actually knows more about what was on which show when. We used to go to the wiki fan site. Now it’s just easier to ask him.” I WANNA KNOW WHICH WRITER THIS, WHO ARE THEY, WHO IS THIS GOAT???

"for the first few episodes of the revival, it’s been tweaked to say, “there’s another 104 days of summer vacation.” (Povenmire and Marsh say that’s only for the first few episodes, before they revert to the original lyric.)" Heh, neat. I guess the title sequence is gonna be mostly the same then if so? Guess we'll see.

"an episode where a large, inanimate object has what they promise is a “very meaningful storyline,” including a song by Michael Bublé." Huh.

"Meap (as voiced by John Stamos) will return in the long-awaited “Meap Me in St. Louis.”" So new Meap VA. RIP Lorenzo Lamas.

"Dr. Shamai". Hmm, is that the psychologist in Deconstructing Doof?

"Receptionist" Could be Deconstructing Doof or Chip to the Vet, or something else entirely.

"Alan Cumming as “The Haberdasher”" I KNEW IT

"Alliance Commander" "Lieutenant Zarna" No idea what these are, is this the Space Adventure episode, or a Meap Me in St Louis thing, or something else? "Lomond" by Rhys Darby also sounds kinda alien/spacey.

"Samantha Sweetwater" Relative of Adyson's?

"Vending Machine Prime" VENDING MACHINES WILL BECOME THE DOMINANT RACE

So uh yeah, all pretty neat

[popculturebuffet]

The Day The Earth Blew UP: A Looney Tunes Movie Review: It's Colossal! Stupendous! One Might Go as far as to say not at all mediocre.

Minor Spoilers Ahead

It's a miracle that I got to sit down and watch this film with my friend Cory sunday. In a time when Warner Bros Discovery is in a constant state of burning itself down for the insurance money where anything and everything animated not shielded by James Gunn or Adult Swim is getting ignored and barely promoted at best or thrown in a vault for the writeoff at worst, it's a miracle on top of a miracle that this film actually got released.

It was a struggle to get there: Director Pete Browngardt, in an interview the Hollywood Reporter, mentioned he felt the film was almost cancelled no less than four times and even when finished, had to shop itself around like an indie movie. With the streaming market slowly collapsing in on itself, no streamer wanted it. It was only through a great debut at the Annercy Animation Festival that the film got picked up by Indie distrbutor ketchup entertainment and even then only got held over an extra week by popular demand, a demand that will hopefully only grow. This is a film that very easily could've been at worst lost media and at best leaked out by some hero for all to see.

Thankfully.. we got here. The film came out in theaters and has gotten such a postivie reception that an attempt to remove it from theaters this very wedsday was pushed back and it'll likely stay as long as it sells tickets. Given I saw this film in a packed theater, that's a very likely proposition.

The Day the Earth Blew Up spins out of Looney Tunes Cartoons, a series of shorts released either in front of films , at festivals or on HBO Max in the style of the classic era but with the zany sensiblities of 90's cartoon netowrk. Given showrunner Pete Browngardt, who pitched the job, created Uncle Grandpa, that isn't a huge suprise but what i've seen are solid, fun shorts with the right spirit.

You can feel Browngardt and crew's love for looney tunes: there's tons of little nods to their history in there: Daffy and Porky's search for a job is styled as a short complete with title cards and old timey aspect ratio, Daffy does a very bugs-esque wild take, we get a gorgeous art deco musical sequence set to "powerhouse" aka that stock factory music I can't describe in print but you've certainly heard, and the finale has possibly the best use of the Looney Tunes theme in the whole franchise and there's a bunch more I didn't even spot.

The Day the Earth Blew Up gets the tone perfect: It has what you'd expect from the classic shorts: rapid fire jokes, one after another often getting crap passed the radar at a master level, the best bit of adult humor being Daffy telling the main villian he can probe them in an increasingly long list of places including "A truck stop bathroom" but he can't take their freedom. The film has great pacing on it's joke, letting the plot breathe when needed but cramming in as many as possible. I was in tears at times, with a truly perfect needle drop of Bryan Adams treacly "Everything I Do", an awkard animation walk cycle for the ages, Daffy thinking our main export is smog, and an overly long crashing gag that rivals "Dental Plan, Lisa Needs Braces' in hilariously over done gags. I could honestly just list punchlines for several paragraphs, but it's best you see this for yourself. The hurricane of jokes i'll watch over and over again is held up by a simple but shockingly strong plot: Porky and Daffy are orphans who were raised at adopted brothers who call themselves friends for some reason, raised under the watchful eye of Farmer Jim, a matte painting whose only animation is in his synchro vox styled lips. The two eventually loose him when he just... goes into the clouds one day and get by on their own.

Naturally for this kind of picture, they soon encounter trouble: a meteor grazes their house, and to pass inspection they have to pay money they don't have. A series of hilariously failed jobs, sight gags and one murder later and our heroes are seemingly screwed till they meet Petunia. Petunia is a looney tune whose barely been used a lot of the time, mostly there to be Porky's love intrest and.. tha'ts about it.

The film keeps up this streak as i'ts love at first sight in a genuinely charming scene as we cut between porky's lovestruck vision of her, with a glow behind her and perfect hair.. and the beaten down real petunia fresh out of the rain and exausted. It's a sweet moment and the two have impecable chemistry. Petunia instantly bonds with her future boyfriend and his brother and is given her own goals outside of a cute as hell romance plot: to make a perfect gum flavor since the company she works for is content to just coast on the popular ones, trying squid ink, rotten eggs and making daffy explode at one point, which he takes well. He's a champ that daffy and a solid wing man.

Our heroes get a factory job that works for once.. just as an alien that what came from outer space decides to conquer earth using gum. It's up to our heroes to save the earth. The problem is.. Porky is slowly wearing of daffy, feeling he screws things up, worrying about Daffy tanking his relationship and later tanking the world with his antics. What's neat about it is it's shockingly nuanced: Normally when Daffy's in conflict, he's usually just.. an asshole. That's the version I grew up with: a selfish prima donna constantly envious of bugs. Sometimes he's right to be pissed, see back in action, most of the time he's just a selfish weasel who the universe punishes for his hubris.

Here he's been recanted perfectly: This daffy has his usually intentional selfishness and deep seated insecurity left out. He's instead similar to his The Looney Tunes Show Version (Aka my faviorite daffy), a weirdo in his own little world, but without any of that daffy's danny mcbride character level pettyniess. This Daffy instead comes off midly neurodivergent, not really getting social cues or why attacking the neighbor while buck naked and accusing their employer of an evil conspiracy might be a bad idea long term. He's a loveable weirdo who still has daffy's wit , timing and accuracey, but is also a screw loose.

Porky's straight edged nature, instead of making him fade into the background as it can, works as a perfect contrast. He loves his brother but is frustrated by his antics and slowly let's that resintment boil over. It reminds me of my relationship with my own sibling: We love each other.. but being that diffrent from one another and in my case sometimes incosiderate can be a lot. You get why Porky's frustrated.. yet you understand he's overblowing things. Daffy means well, sets porky up with petunia and is a generally kind guy. He's just all together looney and tha'ts okay. Porky learns to accept that and Daffy learns to gain some awareness. And Petunia.. dosen't have an arc but she's damn near perfect, Porky's a lucky man, and she's a really fun character that I hope sets the standard for her, a woman of science.. who will also nearly taste mind controlling gum out of curosity and is more concerned with eating the bland standard gum than the fact she was taken by aliens. The performances from voice acting vetrans Eric Bauza as both main characters and Candi Milo as Petunia are incredible and both should be kept as the characters voices. The way Eric just flawlessly acts off himself in the bulk of the film is astonishing.

The rest of the cast is small, and it works: the film's an invasion film leaning into a retros ci fi astetic with some 80s body horror thrown in. There's the invasion of the body snatchers refrence you'd expect, some flamethrowers the thing style, but it never leans too heavily into it's refrences. Which is something the Looney Tunes can do well

But isn't needed here. There's really only 7 major characters, the rest extras and what have you: our power trio, the alien, a scientest woh the alien brainwashes into his dopey minon, the house inspector and wayne knight as the mayor, who really needed more to do. It's a film first and formost about it's main characters and it's jokes and it works. I'd love a more character focused bugs bunny movie or tweety being banished to the styigan pit he was spawned from where he belongs.

The film is pretty much perfectly paced: it moves from set piece to set piece fast and furious, lingering just long enough and having the slower parts mostly to give characters depth. It's a gorgeous film too, with tons of great "camera angles", and plays with the animations. It's expressive, bouncy and a joy to watch. It's been too long since a 2d animated film on this level was put on a big screen and I hope we get more.

While Looney Tunes future is uncertain, a nice way of saying the theatrical shorts were removed from Max and I fear for my boys I really sincerly truly do, this film is an excellent testement to them, a shining beacon of absurdity I badly needed in a time where nothing is truly certain, things suck and like the Looney Tunes we face a not so promising future. But as long as we have daffy and truckstop bathrooms, I think we might make it out okay.

[seaglassmelody]

Wondering if people realize that “Solas is a liar” is not like. A definitive statement on everything he says.

Solas is, first and foremost, an unreliable narrator. It’s not that what he says is ALWAYS a complete falsehood- it’s that he spins the truth in a way that best suits his perspective, whether he realizes it or not.

He believes, with his full chest, that bringing down the Veil and destroying the world is what is best for the world and will fix his mistakes. This does not make it objectively true. But it is true to him.

His takes on the Veil and spirits and elves and magic are often factually true! But he uses those facts in manipulative ways to suit his ends. And it is difficult to tell when he is conveying an objective fact and when he is telling you His View on it.

This is what makes him so fascinating as a character and an antagonist! And this is why Veilguard is such a fascinating piece of fiction. In a way, they should have left the title of Dreadwolf so people understood that the ENTIRE game is actually about Solas- all of the companion narratives are aspects of his story. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain exist as a mirror to him. Rook is a foil for him. The game is asking you questions about Solas’s thinking, his choices and mistakes via every part of it, culminating in the realization that Rook can face their mistakes and move on from them, rather than being possessed by them and making a continual sequence of bad choices in an attempt to alleviate guilt.

Solas is a fascinating antagonist, a sympathetic character, a walking contradiction- a rebel leader who did not want to be revered but still very much utilized the power the role gave him. I fully believe he does in fact want to be a god, he just thinks of Elgar’nan as his model of a god and says “I will not be that.”

And he won’t become Elgar’nan. He won’t Blight the world for his own glory and power. But he will destroy it for his own absolution. And THAT is why he’s the ultimate antagonist of Veilguard.

[stxrrynxghts]

Okay so, recently there was a huge kaand. As y'all know, I usually post incorrect quotes or my rewatching series of Star Plus Mahabharata. Now someone took my posts and blew them out of proportion. I have blocked them, yes, not because I'm afraid, but because I don't want any stress. I get easily affected by this stuff, and I don't wish to fall into depression again.

I'm writing this post to clarify MY opinions, if y'all are willing to listen. Currently, all the quotes and rewatches are deleted. I will post them either publically or privately again, but it depends if you all wish to see them.

I use basic meme templates from the incorrect quote generators, and put the names of the MB characters which I think suite the template. So there was this specific incorrect quote:

Draupadi: I love you guys, you are the best thing that happened to me. The Pandavas: we are the best thing that happened to you? Draupadi: yeah. The pandavas: we are starting to feel a little sorry for you.

Now, this is a very popular incorrect quote. I don't see how this is derogatory towards the Pandavas, or Draupadi for that matter. It's just a joke. And I'm allowed to make jokes. You, however, are not allowed to post screenshots of my posts on social media without my permission/giving credit.

Tell me honestly, did this feel insulting to any of you? If it did, then I will accept my mistake. I did not make it from the intention of hurting anyone. I just thought it would suit them.

Now change the characters. If I had written this for Krishna and Balarama, would it feel insulting? No. IT IS JUST AN INCORRECT QUOTE!

And then this person says that I used "derogatory" language for my favs. WAIT WHAT? Does this person even know who my favs are? Pls tell me where have I used derogatory language for Abhimanyu or Uttaraa. Yes, I have made incorrect quotes. But these quote templates are used by 100s of ppl online, it's not just ME who is making these quotes, srsly. And no one has ever said that "hey I find them insulting".

Then, my rewatch series. First, it is solely, SOLELY based on what SP MB portrays the characters to be like. If I put any references from the OG MB, I MENTION IT explicitly. My rewatch series was inspired from @demonkidpliz's rewatching MB series (yes, I did take permission before starting it.)

Now, Dhrishtadyumna was trying to kill Drona, right after his birth. So I said it was "out of his aukaat". Why? Because he is very weird. He insults Draupadi in a very sexist way, and is downright irritating till this point. So I used this language for him. It is a satire on the show, God.

OG Dhrishtadyumna was a very nice warrior, but are his warrior skills shown in the show ? Are they? No. And if you consider this to be an accurate representation of him, then...you are special.

Then, this person posts stuff about me calling Arjun depressed. THIS was the biggest issue. I saw some of my friends commenting under it, without even clarifying it with me, first, so it did hurt initially.

The show does not show Arjun to be the great warrior he is. Arjun in the OG MB does not hesitate to fight UNTIL the Kurukshetra war, and he has proved his mettle as the best warrior of his time multiple times in the text. In the show...well, all of his gr8 warrior sequences are just removed. Almost all of them.

In the Varnavrat thing, the Pandavas (and Arjun) are eager to kill the Kauravas, which is very uncharacteristic for SP MB Arjun. So I said that "oh, he wants to fight? He won't want to fight after the depression hits in."

IT IS FOR SP MB ARJUN.

NOT FOR THE REAL ARJUN, GOD.

Yes, I know that he was a gr8 warrior. Yes, I know that he did tapasya and pleased all the Gods. Because he was GREAT. And I know that. The title of the post was "Re-watching Mahabharata", and the tags were "starplus mahabharat", "starbharat recap" and "starbharat". Srsly? You will say that I am calling the OG Arjun depressed?! Really?! It's a satire on the show!

Asking me to show even a single verse in the text where he is mentioned to be depressed is kinda weird since I DID NOT CALL HIM TO BE DEPRESSED! And I know how serious depression and suicide is. I suffered from it once. I don't need anyone teaching me about how serious it can be, or how it can affect your life. I am NOT trying to pick fights with anyone, okay? I am not. I am not interested in weird kalesh at all.

I want y'all to tell me if I have done anything wrong, or if any of you ever had similar feelings seeing my incorrect quotes or rewatch series. Since they are currently deleted, I will start posting them again if y'all are interested in seeing them.

[anadrym]

Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch13.

Spoilers!

Chapter title is from "Monster" by Starset. I've held off on Starset for long enough. We're gonna be seeing more of their songs going forward because I love their music.

I absolutely hated the paragraph about Cait getting the window open so she could sneak in. I reworked it several times before giving up. I still hate it.

I said this last week, but the reason there are so few guards at the mansion is because the Baroness essentially just walked into the territory of an "ally" she doesn't trust. She takes quite a few people with her to make sure Chross doesn't try anything.

The scene of Caitlyn questioning and killing the handler and the other guy was inspired by Joel interrogating David's men in The Last of Us.

This has absolutely no bearing on the story, but I want you to know that I thought of it: Vi has (had) two handlers. They worked in shifts, five-day weeks, and had nights off. Worker's rights. :)

At first, I had Caitlyn trying to find the door to the basement and couldn't get it to work without her seeming... omniscient? And then I realized I could just make the guy tell her.

"She reloads her rifle and descends" - character descending into the darkness in the desperate hope of saving their loved one? At least Cait will be more sucessful than Orpheus.

Ah, the maid. Last week, I mentioned that I had originally meant for Vi's intended victim to be a maid the Baroness suspected of being a mole? This is her! She's also the voice on the radio from the end of Ch11. Not to worry, sparing her was absolutely the right decision.

I do love it when POV characters lose time. Easiest transition ever. Great way to pass over boring bits. 10/10, would recommend.

Remember how I mentioned that Caitlyn can pick locks? The entire purpose of that was to emphasize her panic here; she doesn't even bother trying.

Can shooting a lock unlock it? Can a person pump a rifle one-handed? It's impossible to say for sure, but that's fanfiction, baby! (Also, this scene was brought to you by Terminator 2. Terminator 2: it was cool how he did that.)

Yes, the whole sequence of Cait killing the doctors was practically stolen from The Last of Us. Even down to the three people. Also, ruthless Caitlyn is so badass, it's so much fun to write.

Pretty much everything from Cait finding Vi on the table to the part where she starts to dress her has been finished for months. I think it was one of the first things I wrote for this fic.

Also, because a few of you brought this up: it was absolutely necessary to me that Caitlyn see what Maintenance did to Vi. We all know Vi downplays her own pain so she doesn't burden others. Now if she tries to say it wasn't that bad, Cait can say "No, I saw what it did to you. I know how bad it was."

Cait puts the pistol on the table because she's in too much of a hurry to holster it. :)

When I imagine how bad Vi looks right now, especially coughing up blood, I think a lot about the episode of The Walking Dead where Glen gets sick at the prison? It was a long time ago, but a very nice piece of whump.

Vi does have a catheter port on her chest for the nutrient feed, but the Maintenance injections are just done straight through the skin and into the veins, kinda like drawing blood? That's why the one on the inside of her left thigh is infected.

Caitlyn, bandaging Vi's wounds while being terrifyingly aware of their time limit: "Wow, I'm doing a terrible job. My dad would be disappointed."

The ring! Vi was so desperate to hold onto herself that she's managed to mangle her thumb. Caitlyn doesn't realize the significance of the ring, she only knows that Vi's been hurting herself with it. Honestly, she wants nothing to do with it. Thankfully, she pockets it instead of tossing it. Also, I got a question about why Cait didn't recognize the ring. There are two reasons: 1. she didn't take any time to look at it, they're in too much of a hurry, and 2. I really like the idea of Cassandra and Tobias having very simple wedding rings, just a solid gold band each, with nothing distinctive about them, so she probably wouldn't have recognized it anyway. She'll find out about it when Vi tells her what it is; the scene is very sweet. <3

"There you are." - It was so important to me that, even in all of this fear and chaos, our girls got even a brief moment where they could just take comfort in each other and the fact that they're both alive and together again. Also, forehead kisses, my beloved.

Ugh, the amount of trust here. Vi is cold and weak and hurt; she doesn't know what's going on and she doesn't understand words that she knows she should. But none of that matters, because Cait is here and she trusts Caitlyn to get them out. I'm ill.

And then Caitlyn repaying that trust by telling Vi what she's doing and giving her as much autonomy as she can. :'(

Vi is barefoot. Just for the drama.

Mmm, when the character who uses their body as a human shield is then shielded by someone else? *chef's kiss*

The part where Caitlyn tries to hold off the bottleneck at the door and then Vi saves her at the last second was inspired by the scene of Rex and Ahsoka from the finale arc of Clone Wars.

I want to clarify: Caitlyn is not out of bullets for her rifle, she just needed to reload. She's still got both guns.

Hey, wanna hurt yourself more? Imagine if Cait did get shot here. They'd definitely hook Vi back up. But also, the Baroness would absolutely do the same thing to Caitlyn that she did to Vi five years ago.

I'm quite fond of the idea of Vi teaching Cait the basics of boxing and Caitlyn teaching Vi how to use each of her guns. Power couple sharing weapons is an amazing trope.

Wow. Thank god there was only one guy left when Caitlyn's rifle ran out of ammo. ;)

You might think that Caitlyn's greatest strengths are her marksmanship and her intellect. But actually, it's her ability to compartmentalize and give herself a very strict schedule for feeling her emotions. Three seconds is perfect for mentally recovering from almost being shot.

Vi is doing her absolute damnedest to stay conscious and aware here. She doesn't want to slow them down, and she's going to do her best to protect Caitlyn too. She's desperate not to be left behind again (not that she blames Cait; there's just a lot of trauma there).

Teaser for next week:

As she claws her way back to reality, she hears muffled thumps, a sharp cry of pain, and the choked sound of a breath cutting off. Vi pries her eyes open to see two figures just a few feet from her, locked in a struggle over Caitlyn's rifle. The larger figure has his arm wrapped around the other's throat.

Caitlyn makes an awful, breathless noise as she squirms in the man's grip, but her movements are weak and uncoordinated. Her eyes, wide and bloodshot, meet Vi's with terrified desperation.

[elliot]

I played the alleged anti-rpg, moon (1997) approximately 2 years ago; it was a game that took my mind by a storm and inspired a well of creativity unlike any other. After years upon years of being incapable of original work due to a deep rooted dry spell, it was moon that opened the floodgates of my brain back up and enabled me to start making things directly from the heart again.

I’ve played a lot of games, and moon is both a cult classic and one of the most fascinating for a good reason. In the 6~ ish hours you get with it, it communicates such a wealth of abstract thematics that have managed to create a ripple effect present with games we love even today. This post examines the core of the game: the metanarrative relationship that exists between The Hero and The Invisible Boy.

There are major spoilers for the game in this post. Please read at your discretion! 

When moon posits itself as an anti-rpg, what does that term entail?

At a glance– the player assumes it’s a reference to the gameplay system which is structured around “saving” animals/monsters as opposed to fighting them. 

However, what makes the game an anti-rpg in actuality has little to do with this feel good, heartening mechanic: because the very end of the game tells you distinctly that this mechanic will not truly save anything or anyone. Whether you’re killing or saving these monsters, animals, characters, etc. you are still viewing them as metrics, objects of your affection/destruction, numbers and things and targets for your own amusement. The Invisible Boy still has a leveling system, just like The Hero. To allow these creatures and characters to flourish, you ultimately must leave them behind. The game is an anti-rpg, not because you harness the power of pacifism over violence, but because the ultimate act of love for this game, for its characters, for its messaging is to step away from it and internalize what it’s communicated to you in your real life. That’s the only way you can “beat” it.

But to deconstruct this further: the game itself deconstructs the notion of “roleplaying” ala using the protagonist as a self insert through The Invisible Boy. Who is The Invisible Boy, and who is The Hero?

When introduced to the game, you are playing as a young boy who is subsequently also playing as a character: The Hero, who serves as his initial avatar. The first thing the game prompts you to do is enter a name. The title track of the song that plays during this sequence is Entry Song, a seemingly basic reference to “name entry” that doubles as an allusion to the fact that this is the exact moment where both the Invisible Boy and The Hero “enter” the world. The name you enter applies to both characters, a reveal that’s delivered to you at the very end of the game – The Invisible Boy has this name in lower case, while The Hero has it in upper case. Fundamentally the same name but mirrored to each other. The young boy is thrust into the world through the TV screen, losing his corporeal form and therefore becoming The Invisible Boy. His existence is a strange, undefinable thing; for a reason never made known or explicit, The Invisible Boy is capable of seeing dead animals felled by The Hero. This may be due to the metanarrative divide he exists within as a “real” boy who has entered the two dimensional world of the game, but his ability to communicate with the dead transcends his interactions with the slain animals. In the sequence with Tanaka, it’s noted that the Invisible Boy has the capacity for contact with spirits and that “regular people” cannot enter the liminal space that exists between the living and the dead. What does this imply regarding the Invisible Boy? I’ll circle back to this after establishing what we know about The Hero.

The Hero, when you are first introduced to him, only exists at the mercy and control of the boy controlling him; once that boy enters the universe, he seems to act in accordance to his mission regardless and is preoccupied with the notion of leveling up and defeating the Dragon no matter the cost. Of course, easter eggs and lore within the game go on to reveal that The Hero is actually Gramby’s dead grandson, pierced by the White Feathered Arrow and trapped within the cursed armor, which effectively brainwashed him into becoming a bloodthirsty warrior with no real cognizance of what’s going on. The rainbow generator may seem inconsequential, but rainbows often symbolize the bridgeway between life and death.

So what does that have to do with the Invisible Boy?

The simplest way of communicating it is that the Invisible Boy and The Hero quite literally cannot exist without one another. The prologue featuring The Hero (called FAKE MOON) that you go through foreshadows the game’s central plot events but through the lens of The Hero, which are then experienced through the lens of The Invisible Boy. From chasing around the “crazed dog?”, to the fight with Perogon, to boarding the airship, to the mass slaughter of the animals on the moon – the story of the game, whether it’s as The Hero or The Invisible Boy, has already been written into existence. Much of moon is storytelling in reverse, wherein the further you progress, the more you come to understand The Hero’s “reality” during FAKE MOON. The songs that play during FAKE MOON are songs that reappear during REAL MOON with different instrumentals to denote them (1, 2, 3, 4, 5). Same melody and yet it evokes a completely different feeling.

The Invisible Boy follows the same road as The Hero; everywhere The Invisible Boy goes, The Hero is shortly up ahead of him. They take the same steps, meet the same people, activate all of the same plot points. The Hero’s world is rigid and unyielding, limited to an 8 bit soundtrack with environments and people rendered to their simplest forms. The Invisible Boy’s world is a subversion of this, with no soundtrack to guide him – instead you’re given a variety of genre breaking tracks to play of your own accord, with only the sound of your own footsteps to accompany you (The Hero and The Invisible Boy’s footsteps are both used to characterize their presences). The Invisible Boy’s leveling system demands that he talks to and understands other characters, but there’s still a pervasive sense of loneliness that colors his gameplay, a feeling that never quite leaves; much like The Hero’s journey. When Gramby sees The Invisible Boy, she recognizes him as her grandson and uses the inverse of his name, the version of it that exists in all caps. 

Is this to say that on some level, The Invisible Boy and The Hero exist as the same entity in dual points and egos? Possibly. The Invisible Boy is a real person, and The Hero comes into existence because of him. At the end of the game, when The Invisible Boy is slain by The Hero, The Hero dies immediately: because The Hero cannot exist without the Invisible Boy. When The Hero’s armor falls away, you do not see a child.

You see nothing. You see an invisible boy.

Florence speaks often of a recurring motif in this game: rebirth, the bridge between realities, life and death. Dying and being born again. The Hero gets his second chance – as the Invisible Boy. Because the Invisible Boy and The Hero are still a product of their design (the role of the protagonist), they condemn the cast and world to the same fate regardless of the means they take. Shedding their role within the game is the only way they can save anyone. Florence proposes that the dreamscape, the subconscious, is a gateway to another reality – The Invisible Boy’s “promises” to the Moon Queen take place in the dreamscape, where he retains his form as a human child as opposed to The Invisible Boy. The Invisible Boy and The Hero are both bound by their promise to save Love-De-Gard no matter the cost and no matter the sacrifice. On the moon, when you see the Moon Queen in person, she is physically attached to the Dragon The Hero fights: they exist as a dual ego, as two sides of the same coin. The Hero has been following the trail of the Dragon, while the The Invisible Boy has been following the guidance of The Moon Queen. They are one and the same. 

Fiction, stories, games, are escapes to other realities that exist to us and us alone. We, as the player, make out its meaning. Is that meaning steeped in blood? Is it dehumanization? Is it gratification?

While many use the scrapped “ending” as a frame of reference for The Hero’s fate or what he truly is, that’s simply inaccurate; Kimura has talked about this “ending” quite a bit. Here is an interview where he states that not only was this not an “ending” but rather a part of a scenario that you’d clear in order to eventually attain an ending that resolved the scenario in question, but also that it was scrapped early into development because it was not the direction they had wanted to take the game in. Thematically, it’s incongruent with what we’re presented. Here’s another interview where Kimura discusses it, once again stating that it would clash with what the story was presenting as is.

Conversely, there is a vocal theater that was released where you follow along with The Hero, aka the young boy that exists inside of him. Near the end of this theater, you get to hear The Hero actively make the choice to exit the game and open the door; perhaps cementing the idea that The Hero and The Invisible Boy exist as dual egos, hence why neither are shown in the ending credits.

The Invisible Boy and The Hero could be viewed as an elaborate metaphor for our relationship to gaming and art. They could be viewed as a metaphor for how young boys are socialized into violence through gaming. They could be viewed as a literal story of rebirth. They could be viewed as a young boy, learning to navigate the world and himself, at odds with these two facets of himself. They could be viewed as a young boy wanting to learn how to do right by the world, and the creatures he’s come to love. They could be viewed as something so abstract, or something so literal, that the possibilities are endless – but their identities and roles are inextricably linked and form the heart of moon. After finishing, I dug through the game in a relentless pursuit in some attempt to understand what happened to The Hero, how his narrative could be read more mercifully, what the point of this child’s alleged suffering was–

In the end, the answer is simple. You are him and he is you, just as the Invisible Boy is.