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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months

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Best (Fake) Boyfriend

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention at a fancy restaurant, a handsome SWAT sergeant pretends to be your boyfriend to help you.

Warnings: pushy man is pushy and mean. Deacon is perfect and pretty. reader isn't rich (not necessarily poor, just usually unable to afford the vacation she's on). lots of fluff!! there's also a Psych reference and if you find it, we should be friends

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“It’ll be fun!” your best friend insists.

“I don’t know,” you reply.

“It’s just a weekend. This is the hottest resort in LA and we’re never going to be able to afford it again. Besides, it’s an Uber ride away, if you hate it after the first night, just go home. We wouldn’t hold that against you, swear.”

Closing your eyes, you nod. The small group of friends surrounding you cheers. After they force you to pack a bag, you find yourself in the back of an Uber driving through Beverly Hills.

“How did you get a room here again?” you ask.

“I got an insane discount voucher when I went to the grand opening of that new organic restaurant in Santa Monica!”

“And we’re just spending a weekend in the resort? Swimming, relaxing,” you trail off, unsure if you believe the lack of ulterior motives.

“Yeah,” your best friend answers, “plus rich men from the Hills.”

The Uber driver rolls his eyes, and you can’t blame him... not at all.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Save a whole school full of evacuees and you get a dinner reservation at a Beverly Hills resort,” Street muses. “I knew there was a reason I liked this gig.”

“You do know that place will be crawling with rich, single women,” Hicks begins.

“Yeah, we do,” Tan and Street cheer together.

“And badge bunnies,” Hicks finishes.

Street shrugs, and Deacon and Hondo shake their heads.

“Do we have to attend?” Deacon asks.

“Why? Got better plans?” Street asks.

“A night in the hills isn’t everyone’s idea of a fun time, playboy,” Hondo answers. Deacon nods his agreement.

“Yes, you have to go. Mayor’s going to be there tonight, too. Every week like clockwork,” Hicks answers.

“Hey, Deac,” Street calls as they walk out. “What’s the real problem?”

“Just seems like a materialistic, money-based approximation of the worth of the lives we saved,” Deacon answers. “The mayor’s office just implied all those lives are worth approximately $650.”

“Those meals are over $125 each?” Luca gapes. “Sorry, I know that’s not the point.”

“It’s not the first or last time we’ll receive a monetary thank you, but at some point it becomes more about the reward after the job than the job itself,” Deacon adds.

“Maybe we’ll be there for a reason,” Luca offers. “But I get what you’re saying. We are focused on the job, and that’s all we can control.”

“Then I guess we should clean up. Places like that frown upon dirt covered tactical uniforms."

"Their loss; this is my best look,” Street jokes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Um, I can’t afford to look at this menu,” you say, pushing it back onto the table. “Maybe I should go find a diner or something.”

“It’s included,” your best friend whispers. “But we’re trying to play the part, so sit up and feel as good as you look in that outfit.”

Sighing, you straighten your shoulders, picking up the outrageously priced menu again and trying not to let your shock show. Indeed, you’ll never live like this again, but you’re not sure you’d want to even if you could.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Would it be wrong for me to say there’s one for each of us?” Street asks, glancing over his menu.

“Yes,” Deacon, Hondo, and Luca reply in unison.

“They’re women, not suits, Street,” Deacon adds.

“Think I could land one?” Street asks.

“Playboy,” Hondo sighs. “You don’t have enough game for half of one of those women, kid.”

“Really? ‘Cause the one in the blue’s lookin’ over here.”

“Probably at Deacon,” Luca says, keeping his eyes on the menu.

“Right,” Deacon agrees sarcastically. “I- honestly, I don't know what's in most of these foods, so one of you order for me.”

He sets his menu down, his gaze wandering to the table of women Street was talking about. One of them catches his attention, and when the four other women get up, giggling as they walk toward the bathroom, he decides he’s looking at a kindred soul.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Mind if I sit here for just a moment? My friends are running late, and the reservation is under another name,” a man explains, smiling as he looks at you.

“Uh, I don’t think-“

“Thanks,” he says, cutting you off as he sits beside you.

“My friends are coming right back,” you state. “So, you should find somewhere else to wait.”

“Sounds like you have time to kill, and I do, too. What’s your name?”

You don’t answer, fiddling with the bottom of the tablecloth as you watch the doorway for your friends to return.

“I can’t imagine someone ditching you.”

The man leans into your peripheral vision, and you turn your head away. When his hand brushes against your covered hip, you stand quickly.

“I told you that I didn’t want to talk, so you should find your way to your own table before I come back,” you say lowly before walking to the balcony entrance.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon tunes out his teammates as he watches a man sit beside you. Your obvious discomfort makes him eager to help. He stops at the thought that one uninvited man in your personal space is likely more than enough.

“Deac?” Hondo asks. “Oh,” he adds when he looks at what is so worthy of Deacon’s attention.

“Didn’t think he still had it in him,” Luca whispers to Hondo.

Deacon stands suddenly, his attention on your back as you walk onto the balcony. Hondo notices that the man beside you looks angry, and when he jostles the table in his haste to follow you, he knows why Deacon is so invested.

“Go help her out, Deac, we got your back,” Hondo says.

Deacon nods wordlessly, buttoning his blazer as he follows in your footsteps. His team looks on, sure that Deacon has control of the situation but is prepared to jump in if the situation calls for it.

“Deacon comes back with her glued to his side or that starry far-away look in his eye,” Luca announces. “Trust me.”

“My money’s on the first one. You see how she relaxed the moment her friends left? She’s just like him,” Tan points out.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Looks like you found your way to my table, too,” the man says behind you.

When you turn to face him, you step back. His jaw is tight, and his eyes look darker than they did inside.

“Change your mind about spending time with me, girlie?”

With your side to the door, you notice someone walk out, but don’t expect an arm to circle your waist a moment later.

“Hey, babe,” the man says. “What’s going on? Came back to the table and you were gone.”

Looking up at him, you sigh at the sight of his large, kind eyes. Trusting him, you relax against his side, raising a hand to press against his sternum.

“Sorry, handsome. This guy was waiting for his friends,” you explain.

“You need help finding your table or somethin’? This is a nice place, I’m sure they can help with that.”

The man clenches his fists at his side, looking between you and the man holding you to his side.

“Or do you need a different kind of help?”

The hand on your hip tightens, his touch still gentle as his voice drops. He’s defending you, angry for you, and though you don’t know why, you’re grateful.

“No, I’m good. Your ‘babe’ here might want to learn some manners, though.”

You press your hand against your guy’s chest when he tries to follow the man inside. Whispering your name to distract him, you sigh when his attention returns to you.

“I’m Deacon,” he replies. “Sorry for grabbing you.”

“Don’t apologize. Thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking walking out here alone.”

Your hand is still spread over his chest, his arm around your waist, and his hand rubbing soft circles on your hip. You know the moment has to end, but your desperation to draw it out outweighs your logic.

“Well, thank you, Deacon. You’re a great boyfriend; I’m sure there’s a very happy woman somewhere.”

Deacon’s hand moves to your waist as you move back, and he quickly raises the other to stop you.

“There is no happy woman,” he responds. “I just- how often do you have to deal with stuff like that?”

“Not very often. Most guys get the idea, even if it takes a few tries. Never had to be saved like this before.”

Deacon sighs, disappointed either in you or the situation. You hope it’s the situation, and Deacon can practically read your mind.

“I’m a SWAT sergeant, and we have to watch for crossfire,” he begins.

You nod with furrowed brows, confused as to where this is going.

“I just will never understand how some men are so okay with not caring how many women they hurt in pursuing their own… whatever it is they’re looking for.”

“How? How is there no lucky woman?” you ask softly. “Between the kindness and the poetic speeches, you’re just begging to get snatched up.”

Deacon drops his chin, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Why’d you follow me?” you ask.

“You were uncomfortable. I noticed you before he sat down, and then when you stood up so fast I couldn’t just sit there. Especially when he followed you.”

“Then you can tell I don’t fit in here.”

“I can,” Deacon agrees before whispering, “because I don’t either.”

“Could you maybe ditch your friends?” you ask. “Let me call you handsome for a while longer?”

“You seem a bit too pleased to have a fake boyfriend who only came out here to scare somebody off.”

“Because my fake boyfriend is better than any real one I’ve ever had.”

Deacon smiles, pulling you against him. “I have to stay for dinner, it’s a work thing. But if you’re still up for pet names later, and tomorrow, and for a good, long while, I think we can work something out.”

“I will be.”

“Have your phone?”

You pull your phone from your pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. He keeps one hand on your side as he adds his contact, sending himself a text with your name. After he returns your phone, he sighs.

“The moment’s over?” you ask.

“The moment is on hold,” Deacon corrects.

“Enjoy your work dinner. I’m going to go have a free dinner and listen to my friends pretend they belong here.”

“Feel free to sit at my table if you need a break. I’m sure they’re talking about you already. Trying to decide if I’ll actually act on my feelings or just come back in alone and puppy-like.”

You smile, slowly separating yourself from Deacon. Walking in first, he holds the door for you, and you brush your knuckles against his hand before returning to your table. As you sit, your eyes stray to Deacon and never leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

“That little hand thing counts, right?” Tan asks.

“Counts for what?” Deacon inquires as he sits.

“I thought you’d come back with your arm around her.”

“We’re, uh, we’re gonna keep talking later.”

“Atta boy, Deac!” Luca cheers.

“Why didn’t you invite her over?” Hondo asks. “This may be a work thing, but that doesn’t mean it has to be boring.”

“I did. If she gets tired of her friends, she’ll be over.”

“Yeah,” you interject, pausing at the corner of their table. “I’m tired of my friends and your table seems like a better fit.”

Street, Luca, and Tan rush to pull a chair over for you, arguing over who gets the credit. You laugh at their antics as Deacon tells you everyone’s names.

“Nice to meet you. And thanks for letting me crash your dinner,” you say.

“So, what do you think of our Deacon here?” Luca asks, smiling kindly.

“I think he’s great,” you answer honestly. Turning toward him, you whisper, “And handsome.”

“Are pet names our thing now?” he asks.

“Hey, you started it, babe.”

Deacon dips his chin before his eyes rise to yours, and you think ‘beautiful’ might be a better fit for him. Luckily, he promised plenty of time to try all the pet names you can think of.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #requests #fem!reader #swat cbs

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burntheedges-updates · 1 year

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over again, chapter 1

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, light angst, cursing, no use of y/n, no description of reader (see note below), smallish age difference (reader is 26, Joel is 32/almost 33 when they meet in 2000) (small for this fandom, anyway) (the smut comes later, y'all, we're just getting started here) a/n: Well, here we go! This is part 1. This fic is completely finished. It’s a 5+1 and for some of the 5 parts I’ll post them together (on Sundays) and for some I’ll post them separately (on Sundays and Wednesdays) just due to length. Obviously I'm posting this one early (lol). I’ll tell you whatever the schedule is for the different parts. I've paid a lot of attention to the reader's description in this fic. I've avoided skin color, hair type, body shape/size descriptions, and even clothing (except for one or two spots where you are specifically wearing jeans and boots). You are vaguely shorter than Joel. He does not run his fingers through your hair, and you feel the blood rush to your face or your face heat, but you don't turn red or pink. Please tell me if you notice anything I missed - I want this to be as inclusive as possible. word count: 1724 (for this part) series main post & chapter list | series playlist (w/ plot-related mix) ao3 | chapter 2

Chapter 1: Meet Cute

Jackson, Early Winter, 2023

You’ve been heading northwest from somewhere in Kansas, thinking you’ve never bothered going out this way, even Before, so why not? It’s been months since you saw another person. You’re not even sure the last time you spoke out loud.

You blame the lengthy isolation for how easily they get the jump on you.

It's just after dawn when you're rudely awakened - at first, you’re not sure why, but a second kick to your hip sends you scrambling to sit up in your sleeping bag, which is tangled around your legs. Looking around as you struggle, you realize you’re surrounded by people on foot and on horseback. Every single one of them is pointing a gun at you. You glance to the side and realize your backpack along with anything possibly useful inside of it has been kicked away from you. The woman who kicked you has a steely look in her eye that reminds you, in your half awake state, of the last boss you had Before.

“State your business.” As she speaks you notice the two men closest to her start to fan out a bit, but you don’t dare look away from her.

“I’m just passing through, I’ve been looking for a good place to spend the winter.”

Or, that’s what you would have said, if not for the voice from your past shouting your name in shock just as you open your mouth. “No goddamn way, is that really you?”

You think you must be hallucinating, because everyone you knew Before is dead, but then Tommy fucking Miller pushes his way in front of the woman who spoke. For a moment you can’t do more than stare at each other — him with his gun hanging limply in his right hand, you with your legs still tangled in your godforsaken sleeping bag. Then you launch into motion and start to kick it away as you find your voice. It comes out shaky. Or maybe you’re shaking all over.

“Tommy? But — you’re alive? Where the hell have you been? Wait, are Joel and—“

Tommy cuts you off as he pulls you to your feet and into a tight hug. “Holy shit, we thought you were dead. Holy fucking shit.”

“We? Tommy wait, are they—“

Tommy pulls back, keeping hold of your shoulders as he looks you in the eye. He’s grinning, his eyes wandering all over your face. “He’s alive, sunshine. Or he was when he came through here about a month ago. We’re expecting them back in the spring.”

You can feel your heart racing and your whole body feels hot and tingly. You’re overwhelmed. You didn’t think you could still feel hope like this. It’s terrifying, but you have to know. “He’s- Them? They’re both alive? Sarah?”

You know the answer before he even says anything. Tommy’s face falls, his eyes drop from yours, and you feel it like a sucker punch, as bad as it was the first time around. Your knees give out even though this is what you’ve known, or tried to convince yourself must be true, for 20 years. Tommy falls gently with you to the ground.

Your baby girl. “Oh god, Sarah. And Joel, he must have been—“

“Yeah, sunshine. He thought he lost you both. It wasn’t… well. It wasn’t good.”

You’re starting to feel numb. You have no idea what your face is doing right now, but judging by Tommy’s, it isn’t pretty. 10 minutes ago you were alone in the apocalypse, and suddenly you’re face-to-face with your almost-brother-in-law and you know, without a doubt, that your fiancé hasn’t been dead this whole time. Is this shock? It’s been 20 years since you felt a shock like this. Since you felt anything like this.

“Tommy, I… I need to sit down.”

“Well, you are sitting down, sunshine. But get up, gather your stuff. You can come to town with us. Stay as long as you’d like.” You nod, unsteady, and Tommy guides you carefully towards what must be his horse.

The day passes in a daze. You think you might actually be hallucinating, or still back in your sleeping bag, dreaming, because a whole, functional town? A commune, and a house they’re just going to let you have as your own? A real community? With your only remaining family, miraculously alive? It’s impossible. You float through the rest of the day and find yourself sitting on a bed in a house with indoor plumbing that somehow belongs to you, having just eaten real food in the company of the family you thought you lost 20 years ago.

You give up and go to sleep. (What else are you going to do?)

...

As you settle into life in Jackson, the knowledge that you might see Joel — your Joel, any day now — never leaves your thoughts. It’s like a drum beat at the back of your mind that only repeats his name, marking time every hour of every day. You don’t know how you’ll prepare yourself for it. How could you? You haven’t seen him in 20 years. Anything could be different. You can so easily picture him with a daughter, but it’s Sarah in your mind, not Ellie, who Tommy has told you a bit about. Every time you open those old wounds that you’ve done your best to bury it hurts like the first time. Would he still want you? Still know you? Do you still know him? Would Ellie like you? You can’t imagine not knowing Joel, or Joel not knowing you, but it’s been 20 years and people change. You’ve changed, after all. Some days you barely recognize yourself.

You express these fears to Tommy once, but he only laughs and says his brother may be stupid but he’s not stupid enough not to want you. It’s reassuring and rude, so, exactly like Tommy. At least some things never change.

The day Joel Miller walks back into Jackson you happen to be standing on the road near the gates, talking to Tommy, and you swear he spots you in less than 5 seconds. It’s like you can’t help but look to each other first, even when you don’t know the other is alive, even when you haven’t seen each other in 20 years. You’d know the shape of him anywhere and your eyes have never stopped looking for it, never stopped catching on a set of shoulders, a cocked hip, a tilted head, only to be disappointed when it faded like a mirage. When the person in front of you didn’t fit the hole he left behind. It hurt every time. Maybe it’s been the same for him.

Joel looks like he’s seen a ghost, and you have no idea what expression is on your face, but the moment you lock eyes all you see is the moment you first met, almost 24 years ago, like a film negative laid on top of what’s really in front of you. He’s older, of course, but so are you, and he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He steps towards you and whispers your name like a prayer.

Joel fucking Miller.

Austin, Summer 2000

It was a Saturday morning in late summer, so not yet the hottest part of the day, but not comfortable, either. Your belongings were steadily moving from the truck to your new rental house under your somewhat careful supervision when movement from the house next door caught your eye. You looked up just as one of the guys from the moving company almost dropped your nightstand off the back of the truck, distracting you from the sight of a young girl, maybe about 10, rocketing out of the house next door and down her front steps. She was wearing a bright green soccer uniform.

By the time your nightstand had been righted and you looked back towards your neighbors’ house, she’d made her way to the bushes between your driveways, standing on her tiptoes and taking in all of the commotion. She met your eye and grinned. You grinned back as she called, “Hi, new neighbor!”

You walked over, stopping on the other side of the bush to introduce yourself. “Hi there, neighbor.”

It didn’t seem possible, but she grinned even wider. “I’m Sarah, that’s my dad.”

You looked up, realizing there was a man coming down their steps towards the two of you — the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life. He was tall, with broad shoulders and the look of a man who spent a lot of time in the sun, tan lines peeking out of his shirt sleeves. His brown curls were a bit messy and his shoulders and strong arms drew your eye like a magnet. You caught yourself giving him a quick once over and felt your face start to warm, embarrassed, but when you met his eyes again you caught him doing the same to you. You realized you were both caught and you smiled, introducing yourself.

“Nice to meet you, darlin’. Joel Miller, and I think you’ve met Sarah.” You felt your face turn hot at the endearment but you knew he probably didn’t mean anything by it. Southern hospitality and all. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

You’d opened your mouth to respond when you were rudely interrupted by a crashing noise from the moving truck behind you, and you whirled around to see a box on its side on the ground that definitely should not have been. You glanced back at your neighbors as you excused yourself. “It’s great to meet you! Sorry, I need to see what that was.”

They shooed you along before you could even finish your sentence, reassuring you that they understood. “Let me know if anything broke, darlin,’ I’m pretty handy, could probably fix it. It’d be my pleasure.” He smiled at you a bit, just on one side, edging towards a smirk, and you did your best not to stare at his mouth. “Deal,” you agreed, grinning. Both you and Joel seemed unable to draw your eyes away from each other. You were stuck, pinned in place under his gaze until Sarah tugged on his arm and dragged him towards their truck. “Dad, we’re gonna be late!”

The view from the back was just as nice as the front.

...

a/n: ch 2 is up!

taglist: @morgaussy

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #x reader

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prettyinpwn · 2 months

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How Gravity Falls Could Have Been Better + Poor Ford and Wendy (GF Writing Analysis Pt. 2)

GF Writing Analysis Series: Pt. 1 - Ford Pines: A Masterclass in Writing a Good Flawed Character Praise the Axolotl, I feel horrible just writing that title. But let me preface this post with three statements:

I've been in this fandom since the first episode aired. I participated in this fandom while it was airing, and I will always cherish this fandom, those memories, and Gravity Falls itself even when I'm a crusty old lady in a rocking chair someday.

Gravity Falls is still my favorite show of all time, even as someone now nearing thirty years old. Nothing's ever topped it since in my mind, and I don't think anything ever will for me.

Writing and making a show is hard. It's easy for me to sit here and smash my little lady hands on a keyboard and criticize the Gravity Falls writing team's decisions. I'm sure if I'd been on that team, I'd have done a lot worse under that burnout and pressure, and I doubt I'll ever write anything anywhere near that critically acclaimed or beloved.

But... every time I've watched Gravity Falls from beginning to end, I've always felt that there was something off. And in recent rewatches, after I'd studied creative writing in college as a part of my minor, plus just having studied and done a lot of writing in my free time for years... I found out finally what it was:

The flaw, in my opinion, is the pacing. Gravity Falls is - and I mean this in the most respectful way to the writers, and I'm saying this as someone who will praise this show to my grave - poorly paced overall.

So what do I mean by that? Each contained episode is tightly written and nearly flawless in the pacing, but the overarching plot? I'll describe it like this: Picture a rollercoaster starting on a very, very slow incline. The scenery on the way up is gorgeous and entertaining to look at, but damn, you want to get to that peak that was teased in the advertisement of the ride. That first tease is what keeps you going on the slow incline. You know you're going to get there, but...

Okay, we're focused on getting accustomed to the seat, the people around us, how this rollercoaster feels, but... you check your watch. Are we there yet? What about that peak that was advertised? No, it's still a glacial incline. You inch upwards. It's godawful slow. You wait - and for those of us who watched when it aired during the hiatuses (which were more Disney's fault than the core team's, to my understanding) - it takes months to years.

Jesus Christ, you think. What about that tease? I want to know what's at that peak! Yes, I get tension and slow buildup, but this is taking FOREVER, and there have been no glimpses of the peak for eons. And then... suddenly, it gets more intriguing. There's a little bump. And another. And finally... there's another hint of the peak that you saw teased all the way back in the Stone Age.

Now, the ride consistently offers you little fun hills after that long, slow first incline. But seconds later BOOM! You skyrocket to that peak so fast your facial skin is flapping behind you. WOO! This is a blast! But holy hell, this is going a little fast compared to what it was like before. The last third of this ride must be MINDBLOWING, with lots of loops and spins and turns and even greater thrills, right?

And then the ride just drops almost face first to a plateau again. There are no more bumps, really. No loops. No twists. Just an almost straight, logical line back to Earth. Half the ride was pretty and made you laugh a lot despite how long it took, but the other half of the ride went so fast in comparison that it was just a blur. You're at the finish line now. Yes, it concluded like it was supposed to, but... is that it?

Rollercoaster metaphor over with, that's the pacing of Gravity Falls. For a more detailed visual example:

(Note - each episode is listed by their overall number. For example, 1 is Tourist Trapped, the peak at 31 is Not What He Seems, and the finale Weirdmageddon episodes are 38-40. Also, this is a rough, subjective view of the pacing tension, but generally... episodes that hinted or contributed to the overarching plot and tension earned higher points, and ones that added almost nothing besides comedy and character development that didn't necessarily add to the overarching plot were lower. The Weirdmageddon episodes are at a plateau since they - as finale episodes - serve to create as much tension as they do resolving it.)

Now, there are no hard and fast rules in writing, and every writer plots differently, but generally, this is the kind of pacing tension that's considered "good" (and that most common outlining techniques follow, just in different forms):

(Credit - please check out this page for a full explanation of each act.)

Generally, the trend is slow buildup. There's no plateau for eons, BOOM, then faceplant, like Gravity Falls. So that gets us to my main thesis of this post, building on what I bolded before:

Gravity Falls was too short because it's a three act story squished into a two act structure; the first season is paced like they were expecting three seasons - a season for each story act - and the second season is paced like they had to quickly fit the last two acts into one.

Why do I say this? Because there's a common writing plot point called the Midpoint / Plot Twist. So for those unfamiliar with writing techniques, let's explore what a Midpoint is:

"The Midpoint occurs at the 50% mark, halfway through the Second Act and (obviously) halfway through the book itself. Although many writers neglect the Midpoint in comparison to more noted moments such as the First Plot Point or Climax, the Midpoint is arguably the most significant beat within the story. It is what director Sam Peckinpah called the “centerpiece” of the entire story. Everything hangs upon it. In many ways, it is the moment that decides the ultimate fate of the story." "The Midpoint will feature at least one, possibly more, momentous revelations. Within the primary character arc and thematic exploration, the protagonist will encounter a Moment of Truth that forever changes his or her view of the story’s central philosophy. This revelation, perhaps in partnership with a further external revelation about the nature of the conflict itself, will forever evolve how the protagonist approaches the conflict—on both a personal and practical level. It signals a thematic shift from Lie to Truth (or vice versa) and an external shift from ineffective “reaction” to increasingly effective “action.” (Credit).

"But PrettyinPwn!", I hear you protest. "Gideon Rises is the episode smack dab halfway through the story and seasons! And that has a big reveal. And we learn a truth about Stan."

Yes, my sweet friends. Gideon Rises - and the reveal of what Stan's hiding in the basement - is a revelation, but the way the first season is paced, in my opinion it's what writers refer to as the First Act climax or Break Into Two. The Break Into Two is:

"Main character makes a choice and to go on the journey, and our adventure begins. We leave the “Thesis” world and enter the upside-down “Anti-thesis” world of Act Two."

(Credit).

Traditionally, this Break Into Two is literally stepping into a new world. Harry Potter getting to Hogwarts. Katniss Everdeen getting to the Capitol. Yadda yadda. But in Gravity Falls, it's more subtle:

We go from the "ordinary" world of Gravity Falls in Season 1 / Act 1 (which is anything but ordinary, but you get the point) where things are bizarre but lighthearted, to the "new" world of Gravity Falls in Season 2A / Act 2 where things are bizarre and definitely not lighthearted anymore. We've started to see the dark underbelly of this strange place and family, the seriousness ramps up, and... lo and behold... a B STORY pops up right at this point in full force, just like B Stories typically do right during or after the Break Into Two point. And that B Story? Is Stan's work on the portal and his search to find Ford, which was teased in the hook, all the way back at Tourist Trapped.

So no, Gideon Rises is not the real story Midpoint. The real story Midpoint is this nerd:

Let's look at those two plotline graphs again; Gravity Falls' and the typical one you see with three act structures:

Yes. Ford's reveal / Not What He Seems should have been smack dab near halfway through the series. But it's not. It marks the 75% point instead. Technically, if we follow the idea that the Midpoint should be roughly around 50% through the story, Not What He Seems should have taken place near where Gideon Rises is in the episode roster, and Gideon Rises should have been halfway through Season 1 (roughly near Fight Fighters).

So what caused this? Oh boy, I'm getting into speculation territory, and I know Hirsch has said it was meant to be this way, but based on the pacing flaws, here's my theory:

Hirsch and team wrote Gravity Falls Season 1 assuming there'd be three seasons; a season for each act of the story. They burned out, so compacted it down to two seasons, and fit all of Act 2 and 3 of the story into Season 2. That's why, at the time the episodes aired, Season 2 was referred to in two halves: Season 2A and Season 2B. Translation? Season 2A is Act 2 and what was supposed to be Season 2 but condensed, Season 2B is Act 3 of the story and what was supposed to be Season 3 but condensed.

TL;DR: In Gravity Falls, Act 1 = 50% of the story, Act 2 = 25% of the story, Act 3 = 25% of the story. AKA poor pacing. The equivalent in, say, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, would be if Harry spent 50% of the story at the Dursley's before getting to Hogwarts.

If Gravity Falls had had three seasons total, the slow buildup in Season 1 would be totally justified, as the first act of most stories takes its time to establish the characters and world. But we instead go from slow plateau to BOOM to faceplant, instead of a slow ride up to the top that consistently raises tension with a few peaks here and there, then a fun, bumpy ride of resolving the tension on the way down.

That's why Season 1 has a little hint of the overarching plot in Tourist Trapped with the Stan vending machine tease at the end of the episode - that's known in writer's circles as the "hook" or promise of the premise - and then literally almost nothing until the end.

I will reiterate: Season 1 is written like the writers thought they had enough time to pace Act 2 and 3 out over the same amount of episodes for each Act.

All this, combined with the fact that Season 2 has some very out of place episodes concerning the tension (*cough* Roadside Attraction *cough*, and no, I don't care that it was retconned later to have made sense), well... yeah.

But this didn't just affect the pacing. It also affected the characters' writing. Wendy barely got developed, Stan and Ford's backstory AKA the B plot got squished into two episodes, the government agents as an antagonist were "defeated" too soon to try to quick switch over to Bill Cipher for Season 2B / Act 3, and the most oof-worthy part? Ford got the short end of the writing stick.

I mentioned in another post that I think Ford is a fantastically written character as a concept, but unlike Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, his good writing relies more on subtext, rushed plotlines, and external materials (Journal 3, mainly). Thematically, as the show focuses on twins, parallelisms, juxtapositions, Ford should have had just as much "let's get to know this character!" focus and time to develop to the viewer as Stan did. But no, he got... what, roughly 4-5 episodes, some of them where his story was only the B plot? Literally, let's count:

Episodes with Stan plotlines: Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel, The Inconveniencing, Dipper vs. Manliness, Irrational Treasure, Boss Mabel, Bottomless Pit, Land Before Swine, Dreamscaperers, Gideon Rises, Scaryoke, Soos and the Real Girl, Little Gift Shop of Horrors, The Love God, Not What He Seems, A Tale of Two Stans, DD&MD, The Stanchurian Candidate, Roadside Attraction, Weirdmageddon 1+3.

Episodes with Ford plotlines: A Tale of Two Stans, DD&MD, The Last Mabelcorn, Dipper and Mabel vs The Future, Weirdmageddon 1+3.

Ford feels like an afterthought. Dipper, Mabel, and Stan get 100% of the story to develop, and Ford gets less than 25%. Also factor in how Ford is the peak the viewer is waiting for, the whole mystery that keeps viewers on their toes for most of the story... and he gets ~5 episodes, and none of those are 100% focused on him.

It's like hosting a multiple course meal promising the main course - the steak - is gonna blow your mind. And then you get it 75% of the way through the meal and it's like... dime sized. It's a damn good little nerd steak, but it's so small, and we ate like three hundred Dipper and Wendy crush and Mabel crush and really well written and funny but effectively filler episode salads on the way here, including ones that weren't even canon (Bottomless Pit and Little Gift Shop of Horrors), interspersed with the occasional hint of steak with episodes like Dreamscaperers. Which would have been fine had there been an equal and increasing amount of steak, but no. To ask an age old question... WHERE'S THE BEEF?

A summary of Ford:

Worse yet, let's compare his introduction to Stan's introduction.

Stan (in Tourist Trapped): "Heya, I'm a grumpy old conman runnin' a tourist trap, and all I care about is money, but... hey, you kids want something from the Gift Shop?"

Ford (in A Tale of Two Stans): "Greetings, I just returned from sci-fi sideburn land, I'm just going to punch a character - my brother - beloved by the audience in the face after he did something very nice for me, tell my long backstory that kind of makes me look like a douche in multiple ways, plot convenience the antagonist away, then tell said beloved by the audience character / brother to get off my lawn."

No wonder why - after ATOTS aired - lots of people thought Ford was a Class A, prime US Grade, grass fed dick. And to this day, more people seem to love Stan over Ford in the fandom. We get context for his decisions later in... drumroll please... Journal 3. And subtext. Not even an episode.

We THEN understand that Ford punched Stan because of the thirty years of hell he went through, that he was just about to defeat Bill Cipher when Stan activated the portal therefore interrupting him, and Ford was upset that the Shack had made a mockery of his paranormal studies plus Stan had literally stolen his identity, completely turned his house around, and made him look like a conman... so we then have an 'OH!' moment and realize, "Hey, wait a minute, this guy has reasons for what he did. Maybe he was more justified than we thought, or at least as justified as Stan was.".

But not in the show. In a book released after. He is actually equally as well-written as Stan is, in concept. He's a great protagonist with realistic flaws and reasons. But he got a sad little salad in the writing department compared to Stan, Mabel, and Dipper's whole ten course caloric explosion buffet.

So what would have fixed this? Just like the overarching plot's pacing... another season. Season 1 + the first half of Season 2 could have been solving the mystery of Stan, and the second half of Season 2 and Season 3 could have been solving the mystery of Ford.

And that, my friends, is why Gravity Falls is too short.

Where does this leave us? Well, er... my next thought is... how would I have written Gravity Falls using the typical pacing progress?

Well, for starters, let's decide this: how many seasons do we want overall? The two options are...

A. Two seasons like it is now, but shorten each story Act.

B. Three seasons, each season is one Act of the story.

If Gravity Falls were just two seasons long in this hypothetical outline, this is what I'd do:

Take out the Dipper/Wendy love subplot. I'm sorry, we all knew while we were watching it that it would go nowhere. I remember watching it as a teen girl as the show aired and being so damn bored with it as a subplot. Especially because... as it stands, most of Wendy's purpose is as Dipper's crush. She never got her own episode.

Put Gideon Rises as Episode 10 instead of Fight Fighters. Make Not What He Seems as the Season 1 finale.

Take out a lot of the "filler" episodes in Season 1. I hate to say this, because I love a lot of the Season 1 episodes. But to pace it better, I'd say order the episodes in Season 1 like this: Tourist Trapped The Legend of the Gobblewonker The Hand That Rocks the Mabel The Time Traveler's Pig Little Dipper Boss Mabel Carpet Diem Land Before Swine Dreamscaperers Gideon Rises Scary-oke Into the Bunker The Golf War Soos and the Real Girl Sock Opera (Any of the "filler" episodes from Season 1 or 2 here) Blendin's Game Society of the Blind Eye Northwest Mansion Mystery Not What He Seems

And as for season 2:

A Tale of Two Stans Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons Then... Here we have a big gap, because we put many Season 2 episodes in Season 1. We squished all that plot into Season 1, so what do we fill episodes 3-17 of Season 2 with? I'll tell you what: More Wendy and more Ford. In this version of the outline, Dipper and Mabel are present characters in every episode, with a special focus on Stan and Soos to a smaller extent in Season 1. So to make it even, I'd make this version of Season 2 have a big focus on Ford and then Wendy to a smaller extent, mirroring how Stan and Soos are focused on in Season 1. And just like the antagonist of Season 1 - Gideon - with a little bit of the government agents, have this season have a few more episodes with the government agents and then Bill as the big final bad.

This gap here gives us ~14 episodes to develop these characters. I also think The Last Mabelcorn should be in here somewhere, so make that 13. If we parallel Season 1, then roughly... Bill should get two episodes as a main antagonist like Gideon did before his finale in Gideon Rises. Wendy should get two episodes as a deuteragonist like Soos did in Season 1.

The Bill episodes could hint more at his backstory like Journal 3 did, have him mess with Ford more and tease at Ford's "sing to me O Muse" backstory with him (because more Ford parallels with Odysseus are always welcome).

The Wendy episodes could delve into the same issues Soos' episodes did: Wendy Episode #1: Her dating issues, but instead of finding someone like Soos did, she's happily single at the end. I vote a plot where Wendy is ready to date again after the Robbie fiasco, Mabel tries to set her up with someone new, tied to a B plot with Ford where Mabel digs into his dating life, finds little to none, and then both Ford and Wendy realize at the end that it's okay to be single and not ashamed of it in a romance obsessed society (also Ford on the ace spectrum ftw, personal headcanon though). Better yet, have it have a kid friendly explanation that some people love differently; actually show that Wendy is Bisexual and Ford is - I'd argue - Ace (or straight or gay but just super bad at relationships because of pouring himself into his work and his other flaws, fear of sharing his baggage with others, etc). Not that Disney would have allowed LGBT+ at that time, because, well... Disney.

This would simultaneously make Wendy A. NOT just a crush figure tied to romance, as female characters often get relegated to, and B. help Ford parallel some insecurities about how he compares himself to Stan, just like Stan compares himself to Ford in the episodes that actually aired, especially if we keep The Stanchurian Candidate as one of the episodes but involve Ford more in it. Have Mabel pull a Jane Austen's Emma and learn to stop being a busybody matchmaker. This idea - in my opinion - is way cooler and less ethically ambiguous than The Love God.

Wendy Episode #2: Her family issues, AKA her dead mother. Make it real tearjerky with a B plot tie to how Stan or Ford never got to see their parents again after the portal accident and before their parents died, and parallel it with Wendy regretting something regarding her mother before she died. This would give us a chance to explore more about Wendy as a character, and both Filbrick / Caryn (AKA Stan and Ford's parents) as characters, as well. I would also lean more towards having her bond with Ford over Stan in this episode. Or, alternatively, you could tie this to Dipper and Mabel and their parents. Because you can't tell me that their parents did NOT have questions about what was going on after Mabel sent that letter home about her "two grunkles".

But why so many Ford with Wendy plots? Because Soos is already the Shack employee tied a lot to Stan, so to parallel, you could have Wendy bond more with Ford. At first glance, this seems like it'd be an odd duo, but Wendy probably could relate to Ford's experiences of feeling like the responsible one in the family, hiding how much they care about things under a more calm facade, the fact that Wendy's dad built the Shack for Ford, maybe add Wendy having an underlying interest in science or the paranormal that she deadens down to fit in that Ford finds out about and tries to encourage her to not hide anymore to tie in with his theme of "it's okay to be weird". You could do a million things with Ford and Wendy subplots.

So that leaves us with a total of nine other episodes to devote to Ford here in this season space. I mean, picture it... in my original counts of how many episodes Stan vs. Ford got in the real version of the show that aired, Stan had around 23 episodes that featured him.

In this version of the outline, Stan would get 14-15 episodes featuring him. Ford would get 14 episodes featuring him. CHEF'S KISS; EQUAL TREATMENT BY THE WRITING. But what would these episodes be about?

A. More bonding and arc between Dipper and Ford. Dipper would go from "notice me Ford senpai / hyperventilating" to "holy crap the Author is as awesome as I thought he'd be!" to "wait a minute, this guy's got some flaws" to "maybe this isn't who I want to become?" to make Dipper's rejection of the apprenticeship feel more natural and take the blame heat off of Mabel (as the fandom's been eager to place).

If Dipper's reasoning for rejecting the apprenticeship was not just "Mabel needs me" but a combination of "Mabel needs me, Stan needs Ford more than I do, Mabel was right and I don't need the Journals / the Author / Ford to be a hero, and I don't want to become Ford", it'd make a lot more sense. Because thematically, the plot of Gravity Falls resolves BECAUSE Dipper and Mabel don't become Ford and Stan; they avoid the mistakes they made, and in doing so, heal the literal and metaphorical rift. And it also makes more sense for Dipper's character arc, which was always about self-confidence.

That, and I think it'd have been great for Dipper to have had a trust - distrust - trust again arc with Ford like he did with Stan. "Oh, Ford's so cool" to "Ford lied to me about Bill!" to "Ford is flawed, but he's still the great uncle I love now". Put a Dark Night of the Soul in there, where Dipper literally 'Trusts No One!'. Not even Ford. Have him teeter on the precipice of going down Ford's dark path, but Mabel saves him from fully falling into it. And have Ford have a Dark Night of the Soul, where now even Dipper doesn't trust or like him, and so Ford feels totally outcasted by his family like Stan felt years ago.

B. Slower plot twist revelations about Ford's past with Bill Cipher. Start him out reluctant to talk about it, especially in front of Dipper, who views him as a hero that Ford so desperately wants to be. Explore some of his trauma, what his choices have cost him, etc. Hell, I'm pretty sure Ford's got some form of PTSD, so throw a plotline in there about Ford isolating a lot because of it. Of course, since kids are a primary audience of the show, you can't get too dark, but you can't tell me Ford didn't experience some messed up stuff on the other side of the portal.

C. Goddamn, take some of Ford's multiverse explorations from Journal 3 and make them actual episodes. What a wasted opportunity in the show. And it better have Jheselbraum in it, or I riot.

D. More Ford bonding with Mabel. Please, for the love of God, I know Dipper and Ford are nerdtopia buddies, but Ford and Mabel would get along so well. They're both weirdos at heart, sweater twins, the older twins, and love the odd and the artistic. Make a B plot with Stan and Dipper bonding, maybe even after Dipper's loss of respect for Ford, and have Dipper "side" with Stan while Mabel starts to "side" with Ford more, almost getting lost in Stan and Ford's rift themselves. Because goddammit, we're riding this juxtaposition and parallelism and thematic train into the Sun!

E. GIVE FORD MORE MOMENTS TO LOOK LIKE A CARING, SWEET GRUNKLE. Stan got a truckload of chances to shine and for the twins to bond with him. Can... can Ford have the same thing? Please? Here, elevator pitch: Ford being forced to put science away to watch the twins for a day because Stan's busy, he reluctantly agrees, and by the end he's just as much of a softie for them as Stan is. Or have Dipper and Mabel get in trouble, Stan and Ford have to work together to save them; have them sabotage each other, trying to look like the better Grunkle, but then pulling their heads out of their asses and working together reluctantly and realizing they actually have fun on adventures like they used to (which would foreshadow their choice to go on Stan-O-War II adventures later).

F. By God, I don't care if Gideon's already in jail by this point, plot-wise. This boy spent episodes chasing the Author's journals. I need to see the look on his face when he realizes the Author is his arch-nemeses' twin brother / great uncle. Please. Have him start a rivalry with Ford that goes as horribly as you'd expect because Ford would use 30 years of multiverse experience to punt this kid into the next dimension for multiple reasons, one of them being having summoned Bill Cipher, another being having used his journal for nefarious purposes.

G. Don't make the government agents go away so easily. Foreshadow Stan's return of memory in Weirdmageddon 3 with the agents remembering what happened before the memory gun wipe in Not What He Seems, not only to utilize them better as antagonists, but to increase the stakes, and also to make Stan's memories returning later seem more plausible. Have Ford play a part in getting rid of them as a threat.

Or have them switch from antagonists to allies once they realize Bill Cipher is the real threat, but have them fail to neutralize Bill to make him seem that much more insurmountable and the Pines' defeat of him that much more of a feat. To wrap up them as an obstacle, just have them thank the Pines at the end and then have them put forth the whole "Never Mind All That" act and keep the stories of the weirdness contained to Gravity Falls. Have them try to lock Stan and Ford up still, though, but realize that they're gone on the Stan-O-War II trip (which, if that story's ever made into a show, they could serve as continued antagonists chasing after the Stans).

H. More Pacifica. Make her redemption more believable. Give her another subplot in Season 2, maybe following the plotline she had in the Lost Legends comic side story with Dipper. In fact, give her a B plot episode storyline with Ford; have them bond over having had to be perfect golden children with a parent(s) that care way too much about money, and it gives Dipper and Mabel more context and understanding about Ford's struggles. There. It writes itself.

I. More McGucket. I want to see Ford angst more about what happened between them. Then, finally, after all these episodes with The Last Mabelcorn somewhere amongst them... Dipper and Mabel vs. The Future Weirdmageddon 1 Weirdmageddon 2 Weirdmageddon 3

And ta-da! You'd have a version of Gravity Falls with two seasons with more fair attention to Wendy and Ford, more evenly paced tension and plot twists, and an antagonist cycle that goes from town enemy to world enemy to multidimensional enemy. ~

As for a three season version of this outline, keep Season 1 completely as is, make Not What He Seems episode 10 of Season 2, and... this is a bold suggestion, but turn the Season 2 finale into Dipper and Mabel vs The Future and make the Weirdmageddon episodes into a whole season. Make the failure to stop the rift really hurt, and use the whole of Season 3 to have the Pines figure out how to stop the end of the world. Use some of it to rebuild the portal, explore some of the Multiverse to find a solution, have them try to find Jheselbraum to help discover more about Bill and his weaknesses and his previous attempts on Earth to break reality (like Modoc's story in Journal 3, in fact, have an episode where they time travel back to Modoc which would give him inspiration to have drawn the prophecy wheel on the cave wall that Ford found hundreds of years later), gather the whole gang and build the Shacktron, have it fail and have to use the prophecy wheel... But wait, it fails, too, and Bill scatters everyone involved across the Multiverse instead of making them into banners - while also destroying the portal - to buy himself some time to get Ford to give up the solution to breaking free from Gravity Falls. Explore the Multiverse more to gather everyone again, use each episode to devote yet more time to developing each character, parallel Ford's journey in the Multiverse for 30 years. Maybe even have a bit of a subplot where Ford breaks from Bill and tries to rebuild the portal to get everyone back, paralleling Stan's struggle to get him back for 30 years.

Learn more about who Ford was those thirty years he was gone. Use the Multiverse episodes to make Stan sympathize more with what Ford went through for thirty years. Have Jheselbraum reference the whole "you have the face of the one who will destroy Bill" to Stan instead of Ford like she did in the past, and have Stan be confused at first, thinking Ford will be the hero again. Dark Night of the Soul up in this season, man, and make the prophecy wheel fail again, and Stan realize yep, time to brain zap, Jheselbraum was right, but HE'S the one that has to stop Bill, not Ford. And THEN try Stan's conman trick to trap Bill in his mind.

And that's how I'd rewrite Gravity Falls as three seasons.

I'll say this: after all that criticism I just laid out, you might think I hate Gravity Falls as it is now. No. I love this show. It won't leave my brainspace and lives there rent-free, like Bill does in Stan's mind. And I will say, I understand 100% why it was written the way it was. They seemed to have had a plan in Season 1, switched gears between seasons, and tried to wrap up two seasons of plot in one season for Season 2.

And they did it with little to no flaws in terms of the overarching plot. They told the story they wanted to. They pulled a Stan and took some shortcuts, but had good intentions and got the job done. And the show is still like... an A- to solid A grade show even with these flaws.

But it could have been nearly flawless and A++ had they either planned for two seasons from the start, or powered through the burnout to make three whole seasons (which is easy for me to say, as someone that didn't have to live through what must have been hair graying levels of stress).

All in all, I'm curious to hear others' thoughts on my critique, or if anyone would like to add more about what they'd put in this hypothetical Season 2 or 3. Or if you'd prefer the two seasons still as they are, or as I hypothetically rewrote them, or as the three seasons idea I explained above. Or if you think I'm just crazy, and that Gravity Falls is perfect as is.

#gravity falls #I either expect lots of agreement or lots of hate #oh well the same happened with the Stan twin theory back in the day I'm well accustomed to fandom love and fandom hate lol #ford pines #gravity falls analysis #I know I post like once every three eons but I'm serious this show lives rent free in my head #hirsch and crew if you ever read this - which I doubt but ya never know - just know that you're the best and mean no hate by this post

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phoebepheebsphibs · 12 days

Text

Snow Day

Title: Snow Day Prompt: There's a snowstorm, and someone's been gone since before it started. They were supposed to come home hours ago, so a member of the group heads out to find what happened to them. Fandom: ROTTMNT Word Count: 3681 Author: PhoebePheebsPhibs Rating: Gen Characters: Casey Jones Jr, Raphael, Leonardo, Baxter Stockboy cameo Warning: Casey gets real freaked out and has a minor anxiety/panic attack Summary: Casey goes out just before a snowstorm happens and gets caught right in the middle of it... Notes: No Beta, We Die Like Gram-Gram! Reused old art for illustration lol, you can see it on AO3

@cheetochild989 @tmnt-write-fight

Posted on AO3 <-

"I won't be gone long," Casey promised. "It's only a few things."

"Still, it's your first time buying groceries alone," Leo mumbled, the tap tap tap of his crutch echoing against the floor. He didn't always need it, but some days were harder than others. "I could go with --"

"No," Casey interrupted him, holding a hand up and stopping Leo in his tracks. "If I'm ever going to figure out how to live in this time period, then I need to learn to do these things on my own."

"Sheesh, alright!" Leo joked. "And don't say 'time period', this isn't the Victorian era! It's only what, 20-plus years into the past? Time period. Woof! You make it sound like we're ancient wizards or something..."

Casey laughed at the idea. The only one he could truly call a 'wizard' was Mikey, but he hadn't really gotten to that stage just yet. Mage, yes. Wizard? Maaaaybe in a few months, if he kept up the training with Draxum.

Casey and Leo went over the list one more time, adding one or two last-minute items that Leo suddenly thought of as they made their way to the exit. Casey stuffed the list into his pants before shoving a large and slightly oversized jacket over himself, struggling slightly with the arms.

"Don't forget your hat and earmuffs," Raph reminded him as he walked past. "It's really cold out today."

"Gotchya," Casey nodded, handling the earmuffs like they're some new and exotic species. "We didn't really have cold weather in the future..."

"Really?" Leo asked, his head tilting to the side. "What were winters like?"

"I dunno, like 60 degrees at the lowest?" he shrugged. "What with all the planetary devastation and laser blasts and global warming... weather became sorta nonexistent."

Raphael shuddered at the thought of such a thing. No weather meant no rain, no snow, maybe even no real wind or cloudy days.

"Well, try to be home soon okay? I think there's a call for heavy snow later."

"Sure thing," Casey replied, half-paying attention to Raph as he walked out the door. After all, this is the past, and everyone has it so cushy! There's nothing dangerous here except for idiot muggers and a few mutants. What could possibly go wrong?

"And don't forget the mittens!" Raph called after him. Casey walked back into the lair, retrieved his gloves, and then walked back out.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Casey Jones Jr was starting to really like New York City, circa 2020. It was a different kind of hectic, but Casey had lived his entire life in chaos.

Instead of dodging missiles, he was dodging taxi cabs.

Instead of wild krang dogs, there were people walking a dozen angry chihuahuas and poodles and dobermans to earn money.

Instead of corpses laid to waste on the ground, there were a few homeless people sleeping in cardboard boxes.

Differences with small similarities.

The biggest difference was the turtles. Sensei Leonardo was no longer a tall and hulking king of the apocalypse with a robot arm who took no slack from anyone or anything -- he was now an ego-stripped teenager with a knee that had been so twisted up that it counted as a physical condition and they could qualify for disabled parking with the tank. Master Michelangelo was no longer someone who looked older than time and could create lavish magic spells with a flip of his hand, but an untrained child with an unbridled adoration for drawing and reality cooking shows. Uncle Tello was not the cybernetic scientist in overalls with a hundred extra technological advancements, but a nerdy teenager with 'secret' plans for anarchy against the US government. Raphael... well... Casey couldn't remember Raph firsthand. There were some photographs and video recordings of him, a few stories passed down, but the big red giant had been killed in action a few years after Casey Jr was born.

But this time period -- er, the past was still nice. It was crazy how many people he recognized. Baron Draxum, Commander O'Neil, Master Splinter, Todd 'The Sasquatch' Capybara, Big Mama... Casey would just be walking down the street and he'd see a couple with a child, and he'd realize the kid was one of the medics that helped him when he'd broken his leg. He would be buying pizza and the cashier was one of Uncle Tello's tech apprentices. In the Hidden City, an octopus Yokai would offer to sell him some mystic potion and Casey would recall they were one of the cooks in the mess hall who always gave him extra portions to help him grow, even when rations were low.

Casey reached the end of memory lane when he found the grocery store he'd been looking for. He casually walked inside just as a few unnoticed flakes of white began to fall from the sky above him.

"Hello, and welcome to the Stock & Shop!" an older woman greeted. "Holler if you need anything!"

Casey nodded with a smile as he started to gather everything on the list.

Chicken soup: got it.

New batteries for the remote: donezo.

Flaming-hot chips: three bags procured.

Four different brands of soda: orange blast for Mikey, sugar-free cola for Raph, flavourless juice for Donnie, and diet blueberry bubble waters for Leo. Check.

Popcorn for movie nights: not yet.

The popcorn in question was placed on a hard-to-reach shelf high above him. Of course, this one particular brand that Mikey so desperately needed was at the very top. As Casey was reached up for the requested snack, a voice chimed in behind him.

"Better hurry, there's supposed to be a wicked snowstorm tonight!"

Casey jumped back, startled by the sudden sound. He looked down and saw a short, scrawny kid with a comparatively huge head looking up at him.

"Oh, hey. You look familiar...?"

"This is my parent's store, I work here all the time. Or maybe you've seen my videos? My channel? STOCKBOii?? Cybersleuth??"

"Stockboy? As in Baxter Stockboy?" Casey wondered, his eyes widening as the corners of his mouth turned up.

"Yeah! You've heard of me?" the child asked excitedly.

"Kind of," Casey replied, not exactly sure how to explain that Baxter had worked as one of Donatello's apprentices to create warships and mechas during the golden age of the Resistance, despite Sensei's reluctance. "I heard about the whole 'Mutant Menace' fiasco."

Baxter groaned loudly.

"Uggggh, that whole thing. My parents still won't let me leave the house unsupervised. It's ridiculous! One mass panic and riot instigation, and they turn on me! At least the judge agreed to let me work off community service in the store..."

Casey smirked just a little.

"Hmm. Anyway, you said something about a snowstorm?"

"Oh, right. The weather report says it might get up to two inches."

"What might get up to two inches?"

"Um... the snow? Look, it's started snowing already!"

Baxter Stockboy pointed out towards the front entrance. A small sprinkling of white could just barely be visible beyond the glass.

"Oh," Casey shrugged. "Doesn't look too bad."

"You say that now, but it's supposed to get below 30º Farenheit!"

"Oh. That is kinda cold," Casey agreed. "...But I'm sure it'll be okay."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Ten minutes had passed.

Raphael received a notification from the weather app, informing that the previously predicted 'heavy snowfall' was now a full-blown snowstorm.

That probably wasn't good. But it wasn't terrible, either. Just some snow.

"Boys, it looks like tomorrow is another snow day!" he announced to the rest of the Hamatos.

From various rooms in the lair, Raph heard them shout in excitement.

"Yes!"

"Alright!"

"Snow day, hooRAY, baby!"

Raph smiled. He couldn't wait to introduce Casey to his first snowfall...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Casey had finally gotten all the items on the list and was preparing to check-out, when an announcement went over the loudspeakers.

"Attention shoppers -- we encourage all patrons to finish up their errands, as we will be closing soon due to the weather. Thank you."

Huh. They sure were getting all riled up over this 'snow' stuff. Casey had witnessed a few storms before in the months prior, but it was never too bad. Thunderstorms were freaking terrifying, but only because they were loud and Casey's first thought was always that an air attack was happening. But he loved watching lightning. It reminded him of a few magic spells Master Michelangelo had performed on occasion...

Casey finished up the last of his errand and purchased the items. He needed a little help when trying to decide on paper or plastic, and for a moment he forgot the pin number for the card Splinter had given him, but other than that all had gone well.

He stepped out of the store, the glass doors sliding past him gracefully.

And he was greeted by a harsh blast of cold. It almost knocked him over, the icy wind biting his face so much he dropped the bags of groceries in order to cover his face with his regrettably un-mittened hands.

Okay. He was starting to see what people meant now. He hurriedly pulled his mittens on and scrambled to cover as much of his head as he could with his hat and earmuffs.

It had been cold these past few months, sure, but not like THIS! This was arctic.

And what's more, the sky was raining ash. That only ever happened when Uncle Tello sent missiles to blow the Krang vessels to kingdom come. So why was no one terrified, or hiding? Besides, there were no more Krang ships to incinerate. So then, what was...?

Casey happened to glance to the side and saw a kid sticking their tongue out. Their parents did the same. They caught a few of the flakes on the tips of their tongues, laughing as they shivered. Casey watched in wonder. He held a hand out. A single fleck of white flittered down to his palm, delicately touching down onto him, and melting upon impact with the glove. Casey was gently bewildered. He looked up at the sky. The heavens above were masked over with clouds of grey, hiding the universe from him, guarding him from the wonders he couldn't understand or comprehend. And yet, the universe deemed this wonder fit for him to comprehend?

Casey's mouth hung open as he gazed at the sky, confused. Snowflakes fell against his cheeks, his eyelashes, his lips, his chin. He stuck out his tongue and closed his eyes. It took a few minutes, but finally he felt one land and melt in his mouth.

...Underwhelming, if he was honest.

It was just water. He kind of expected a flavour.

The wind suddenly whipped against him. It had calmed for the brief moments that Casey stood there, but now was circling back in full fury. Casey gasped at the fierce chill, bundling himself up more and more before gathering the supplies and shuffling back to the lair. The wind swirling around him, the snow raining down with a vengefulness.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Twenty minutes had passed.

Raph had started to feel like he was forgetting something. He wasn't sure what, though...

Donnie had re-fortified the lair and central heating system, so now it would stay extra cozy despite the freezing temperatures outside. You could hear the wind start to roar if you went to the exterior tunnels and big exit door.

Raph remembered how in the early years when they were all teeny tiny turtle tots, Splinter had them all stay in the same room to conserve heat. He'd set up tons of heat lamps and space-warmers, bundle each one in extra-fuzzy blankets... Looking back, he could clearly see the panic that Splinter would be hiding at the idea that maybe they could all freeze to death if they weren't careful, or maybe that the power would go out when they weren't expecting it and he'd only have a few minutes to come up with a plan before hypothermia could creep in like a ghost. It was probably extra terrifying considering that they had minor cases of brumation when it got way too cold. They got better at combating it, wearing warm clothes to help stay warm. And it helped that they also had some minor mammalian DNA too, meaning that they had to be utterly and agonisingly cold for brumation to actually take effect.

Still. Raphael had mad respect for Splinter now. He'd kept his cool and kept his calm, never once displaying the fear that probably filled his mind day in and day out. Raph wished he knew how to do that...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Was Casey even going the right way?? He couldn't tell anymore.

The downpour of snow particles was starting to get so heavy that Casey couldn't even see ten feet in front of him, even with his mask on. Constantly blinded, he relied mostly on the lights from cars or neon signs to help guide him down the sidewalk. He couldn't remember the last time something like this had happened...

Maybe... during the dust storm incident. Sensei and Casey were in a losing battle against the Krang one day and in a sheer panic, Leonardo portaled them away and into some random place far, far away. Leonardo had initially assumed it was some inhospitable desert in the middle east or something, based on how much sand and wind there was. But after a quick look at the tracking device Donatello had installed, they realized that it was actually just New Mexico. Or, what was left of it. Sensei Leonardo had sent them right smack-dab in the middle of a dust storm, where the drought-riddled land had become so dry that the wind created massive walls of dirt and dust that engulfed everything. It could suffocate you, dehydrate you, blind you, etc. The might've died if Leonardo hadn't thought quickly and found a shelter for them to hide out in. He'd dropped one of his swords during the storm, so the two were forced to wait it out. Sensei Leonardo never did find that other sword. He'd had to create a new one with his ninpo.

Anyway, this snowstorm felt like the exact opposite of the dust storm.

Rather than hot and dry, this was cold and wet. But the stabbing sensations of small things constantly flying into you was the same. The wind that threatened to carry you away was the same. The loneliness was the same.

Casey was convinced that he'd gotten turned around somehow... He wasn't sure where he was.

Forget being able to see ten feet away, he could barely see his own hands in the storm!

This was not good. Casey reached up, feeling around his mask for a specific button that would activate a distress beacon. He'd modified it so that Donnie's tech could receive the call, and hopefully it would go through. But if the storm was as severe as it felt, then it was possible that the lines would be down and the lair's internet access and phone lines wouldn't get the message.

Casey found the button. He'd have to hope that they'd get the signal.

He pressed it, and then pressed on, hoping that he could find his way home on his own...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Thirty minutes.

The lair was starting to get terribly frigid. Raph waltzed into the kitchen, shuddering from the chill as he did, hoping that maybe Mikey would start making something hot to eat and that in turn would warm up the kitchen. He only found Leo in there, swirling a mug of hot cocoa that he'd heated up.

"Brr-rr-rr, it's cold! I thought Donnie fixed the heat?"

"He did, but it's still pretty frigid," Leo sighed. "I'm starting to get worried..."

"You think the power might go out?" Raph asked.

"No, I'm wondering where Casey is."

Casey?

OH SHOOT, CASEY.

"Raph completely forgot that Casey was out!" Raph screamed, hands flying through the air. "I thought he came back fifteen minutes ago! You mean he's still out there?!"

"Relax, it's just snowing. Not that big of a deal," Leo said as he took a long sip of cocoa from his mug.

"Leo, you do realize that Casey's never seen snow before?!" Raph reminded him. "And this ain't no ordinary gentle snowfall, this is practically a blizzard!"

Raph huffed angrily before rushing to the lair entrance. He grabbed a coat, some galoshes, a scarf, gloves, snowpants -- the whole shebang. Leo followed casually, sipping his cocoa gently as he walked after him.

"Where'ya goin'?" he asked with a smile.

"I'm goin' after Casey, of course!" Raph yelled.

"Do you know where he is?"

"I got him right here on the little tracker thingy."

Raph held out his phone to display to Leo the small signal coming in from Casey Jr's mask.

"Mhm," Leo hummed. "Okay. Well, when you get back, maybe bring home a pizza too."

"Leo, can you be serious about this?!"

"Okay, fine. When you find him, call me and I'll portal the two of you home. Okay?" Leo suggested. "No sense trudging through the cold back and forth."

"Great, thanks," Raph grumbled before running out the door, pulling his collar up to prepare for the wind and wet.

Raphael ducked out. Down the corridors, up a ladder to the top of the street. He pushed the manhole cover aside with ease. He was instantly met with a barrage of wind and ice, the snow and slush that had been atop the cover sliding down and splashing onto his face.

Raph sputtered softly, wiping his face off before heading into the fray...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

Casey was huddled against something. A wall, a stone, a tree, a car -- he could hardly tell. It was so cold, his skin felt like it was peeling off. His eyes stung from the wind, his feet ached from the chill, his arms hurt from the cold and from carrying all the groceries with him this whole time. The straps on the plastic bags were digging into his arms, cutting off his circulation. It was so windy and loud, he couldn't hear the traffic of the city anymore. His jacket was coated in white.

He'd hoped that he could shield himself with whatever he was leaning against, but the wind came from all sides.

It was terrifying. Being alone. He hadn't felt alone like this in so long...

He remembered sitting alone, like this, long ago...

The wind whipping around, the sky dark, the battlefield torn and scarred, white flakes of ash raining down from above. It was cold that day, too. Casey couldn't be older than four years old at the time.

The ground was covered in grey and white from all the ash and cinder. Casey was covered in the powdery residue himself, his face white as a sheet, his messy and greasy hair holding in the flakes and embers from the explosion that had decimated the world around him.

But the worst was the silence that followed. Nothingness. Loneliness. Agony.

Casey started crying. Four years old, having watched the world end, having seen his mother die, and so many of her comrades, and only to be left alone and scared? Of course he was crying.

In the distance, a figure began to move. Casey gasped, trying to cover his mouth and keep silent as the looming creature lumbered towards him. The monster was huge, it must be a krang mecha or --

"Casey?"

He recognized that voice. It wasn't Sensei, but it was just as comforting.

"Casey, where you? Casey!"

The child meant to answer. But his voice was lost in his own throat.

"Casey! I see you! I'm coming, kid, I'm coming!"

Casey reached out for the Red Giant to take him home... The silhouette of his figure in the smoke and smog that surrounded them...

But as the figure stepped through the fog, it wasn't a red giant.

"Casey! There you are!! I was so worried, what happened?!"

Casey Jones Jr was taken back to the present moment, and stared at Raph in shock.

"R-Raph..?"

"Geez, Case, you look frozen solid! Are you okay?"

Casey nodded softly, getting back up on his feet as Raph gave him a hand.

"I'm fine," he whispered. "It... it, uh, started snowing."

"Yeah, I see that," Raph chuckled. "Sorry, we had no idea it would get so bad."

"It... it's okay," Casey responds quietly. "How did you find me?"

"Well the snow's dying down a bit, so it ain't as hard to see," Raph mentioned as he pointed up. Casey did notice that during his anxiety attack, the wind has calmed a bit more and the downpour of frozen particles was much gentler. "Besides, the tracker helped. Although, I am curious how you managed to get all the way into Central Park?"

"Wha-huh?" Casey gaped, turning around and examining the area.

He had been huddled against a tree trunk, and a few feet off in the distance was a playground. Ahead of him was the cityscape, behind him the rest of the wooded little area.

"Wow. I didn't realize that I came this far..."

Raph chuckled as he grabbed the groceries from the ground.

"So, you ready to get home? All I gotta do is call Leo and we can be back in the lair with some hot chocolate!"

Casey glimpsed at the park behind them. It was... actually quite lovely.

It was a magical world, sparkling and quiet. Undisturbed. Serene.

Raph noticed Casey's stare and looked back at the scene, smiling knowingly.

"It sure it pretty, ain't it?"

"...It's peace," Casey awed. "It's absolute peace. This... I've never seen anything like it before."

Raph took in a deep breath, inhaling the peace with gratitude for a world that could give you something so gorgeous after something so terrible.

"Yeah. It's really beautiful. Tell ya what, the guys can wait for a bit. Want me to show you around the Winter Wonderland for a bit?"

Casey nodded with a dumbfounded smile on his face.

The two walked out into the park together, enjoying the peace that they both had fought tooth and nail for.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆The End⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄ ₊⁺ ⋆

#tmnt write fight #write fight #fanfic #fanfiction #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt raph #snow day #snow storm #ao3 #ao3 link #no beta #we die like men

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maochira · 11 months

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Hi Mao!!

I hope it’s okay to request Baki stuffs cause the fandom is almost dead 😭

Older brother Baki with a younger sibling who also practices martial arts?

Pls take your time and have a wonderful day/night!

~🦢

Requesting for Baki is 100% okay! I actually heavily encourage it so feel free to request more!! (I just don't write romantically and only a few characters. I updated my character list for it!)

Tags: gn!younger half-sibling!reader, big brother!Baki

-you and Baki grew up separately for most of your life, but once you found each other, you became inseparable and you even moved in with him so you could practice together with him

-Baki has never been competitive with you and actually hates the thought of fighting against you. He doesn't know why, but he can't stand it when the thought crosses his mind

-partly that's because he knows he'd beat you. But also because he doesn't want to hurt you, even if it's just minor injuries

-if you ever have to fight against each other and don't really have another choice (in a tournament for example) Baki would still hate it, but he still wouldn't hold back with his skills

-but neither of you sees a fight between you happening any time in the near future so it's not something you think about much

-no matter how strong you are, Baki is still protective and even overprotective of you to some extent

-he'd never pull you out of a fight, even if he knows your opponent is stronger than you. Instead, he asks if you want his help and if you say no, he stays back and only steps in when he knows you're unable to continue fighting

-if you let him join your fight, he tries to be more of an assistance to you rather than using his full skill. He wants you to use and improve your skills as much as possible

-most people just know you as "Baki's younger sibling" and often don't use your name when talking about you. Every time that happens, Baki interrupts the person and corrects them to use your name. After all, Jack gets called by his name and not "Baki's older brother" either, so it'd only be fair if everyone knows your name as well

-you may not be as strong as Baki, but he still makes sure to point out what you're capable of. He also helps you to find out what you can improve on and how

-he's stayed up the entire night multiple times so he could figure out a perfect training plan for you

#💟 maochira writes #baki hanma #baki x reader #baki hanma x reader #baki headcanons

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s4ndg3m · 6 months

Text

COMMISSIONS! FROM ME! YAY!

Status: Open!

okay, gonna start this with.. i have no idea how to make a comms info post. i was going to try and make a carrd but it's... a lot! so, under the cut, i'll have some examples and prices and some info on what to expect! (LONG POST) (YE BE WARNED)

Rules! (and some general info)

because we need that

Don't haggle with me. I'm not selling you old furniture, you're paying me for my time and effort.

For smaller commissions, I require pay up-front

Larger commissions (over $30) can be paid half up-front, and half later. For both ours' insurance!

I can do cashapp, zelle, or paypal.

Time taken on each piece will vary, of course, and I can give you an estimate when we hash out details. I can provide updates as well! Don't be afraid to check in whenever! I won't feel rushed or hassled if you just want to know how progress is :)

If you have literally ANY questions. ANY OF THEM. at all. just message me. Even if you're not sure if you want to commission, or don't intend to at the moment. Have a curiosity? My dms are open, friend. And my ask box too, if you'd rather. I'm so open to questions it's unbelievable. I am almost begging you to ask... If you have something to ask.

YAY / NAY / MAY(or, what i will and won't do)

YAY!

Furries

Humans

Roblox avatars/characters

Fandom

Light/medium mech

Ships (including selfship)

Suggestive

(Artistic) nudity

Multiple characters

Whatever's not on my "no" list! Please please just message me and ask if you're unsure. Even if you're not sure about commissioning and just want to see if it would be possible! I won't bite, I promise. :)

NAY!

Nsfw

Fetish (even if not explicit)

Heavy mech

Heavy gore

Anything proship/comship/whatever the hell they're calling it. NO KID DIDDLING! OR INCEST!

Anything vivziepop related. I don't like her or anything that she makes.

Celebrities (actors in a role, sure, but just the guy? the plain dude? just some guy on our earth who works a job? a real person with a life? no.)

MAY! (or, things I'm on the fence abt)

Horror

Minor gore

Large scenes (not my strongest skillset)

Whatever! I'm okay with stepping outside of my artistic comfort zone, so long as you're okay with the result varying in quality (and possibly taking longer, depending on what you ask for) Again, and I CANNOT say this enough, JUST ASK ME!!

WHAT I HAVE TO OFFER!

Okay, so, as shown here, for a standard commission i'll have 3 sizes, along with 4 stages of completion.

The stages are sketch, line art, flat colors, and render (shading/lighting)! sketch is the cheapest, and render is the most expensive. I'll list some prices for each size below :3

Head

Sketch - $5

Line art - $7

Colors - $10

Render - $15

Half

Sketch - $10

Line art - $15

Colors - $20

Render - $25

Full body

Sketch - $20

Line art - $25

Colors - $30

Render - $50

Add-ons!

Background (any commission automatically comes with a simple one, free, to be pictured in examples) - $15

Extra character - $7-$20 depending on what you're getting! just ask

COMPLEX object (like a weapon) (simpler ones r free) - $5-$10 (again, depending. just ask)

Anything that would take me more time and effort than usual, really. Time and effort is what you're paying for! I try to keep most of these pretty cheap, cus you're already paying for the drawing itself lol. Just ask if you're unsure.

Other kinds of stuff I'll do!

Icons! (or emojis, they're very similar)

These are basically just the head w/ colors, so $10 If you want an emoji set (or icon set, i guess?) it'll be +$5 for each additional one!

Reference sheets!

These are fun to make! They'll include 2/3 full-body shots of your character (front, side, and/or back), 1 head shot, flat colors, and some spaces for info! You can add in the info yourself, or have me add it in for you (no additional cost). They'll run you around $50 (however, you can add/take away stuff to change the price.)

Character page!

I will just. draw the character a bunch of times. $30 base price (sketch quality) can go up to $70 if you want them VERY spruced up (full render)

FINALLY. What we've all been waiting for... Examples!

These are fullbodies! (with their categories and prices in alt) (First is a commission of one of my friends ocs, last one is moff, @/sneablebeable 's character!)

these are rendered pieces w/ backgrounds! (though pokémon like these, I would consider chibi, making them a slightly lesser price.)

Reference sheets! Highly customizable, these are 2 I did for art fight a lil while ago :)

sketches! (with complex background, with extra character) For these, I can include basic values to help with composition, but usually done just cus i feel like it. (no extra charge if I do).

Half body (in the style of a valentines card)

Icons!

Thanks for considering me! or... just checking this out! reading this far! whatever!

#labyposting #take a fucking drink for every time i say “just ask”#or a hit or WHATEVER #god. guys. you know you can ask me stuff right. did i pound it into you enough? should i say it again just to be sure?#commission #commission info #commission example #commission promo #commission open #commissions open #commissions #FEED ME MONEY!#labyart #posting this on my art account first because. it's my fucking art account LMAO #long post #took me over an hour to make holy shit

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concussed-to-pieces · 1 year

Text

Wolves At The Door; Part Two

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: "You don't gotta' lie to me, you know. Books don't get like this without love."

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our second installment! Enjoy!

Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @baby-lisuga @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies

Prelude

Part One

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, depictions of animal butchering, depictions of a burn/scalding and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

Sleeping that night was…difficult. Heisenberg was restless and it definitely didn't help your mental state to have him skulking around the cabin in the half-light, maul in hand. You found yourself curling up on the couch, eyes unconsciously drawn to the dark windows even as you attempted to get some rest.

Karl, for his part, didn't seem better off than you. If anything he was worse, the man sweating visibly as he made his rounds. Whether from the exertion of the day or nerves you couldn't say, but you finally had enough.

"Sit down." You ordered, gesturing to the sagging chair that resided parallel to the couch. "You're making me dizzy with all your pacing."

He obeyed without a word, the maul resting across his knees after he settled into the chair. Karl's gaze landed on the floor after a moment and a deep frown etched a furrow between his brows. He seemed to be struggling with something, wrestling some deep conundrum in his mind, so you decided to simply stay quiet.

"I think I'm…like them." Heisenberg's voice grated a little when he broke the silence. "That wrongness, that…feeling, that Uncanny Valley shit, I hate it but I know it." His eyes darted to your own. "I don't think I'm a good person. Or I–dammit I don't know, I think bare minimum I've done some real bad things. Do you see it too? Or is it all in my head?"

…

You drew your knees up even tighter to your chest, resting your cheek on one of them. It was like you were studying him in the wan light of the candles on the wood stove. Those same candles threw enormous shadows on the walls, black forms twisting and writhing as the flames danced in the breeze from the open windows.

Karl couldn't decide what he wanted you to say. Was he the man, cowering in his chair, fidgeting with a simple club, or the nightmare creature skulking in the dark, made all the more terrifying by fear and imagination?

Wolf in sheep's clothing.

Choose, damn it! he found himself thinking irritably when you continued to look at him.

"Both."

Karl blinked, stunned at your response. "What?"

"Both."

"The hell do you mean?"

"I mean, I guess we're all both." You shrugged. That shrug was really starting to get under his skin. You were a little too free and easy with this stuff, in Karl's humble opinion! "We're all kind of unsettling in our own ways. I wouldn't say you're like those things out in the woods, but you're probably not unlike them either. Maybe you've got something to do with them, maybe not. Obviously you're weird, you can move metal with your brain. That doesn't mean you're like-" you gestured vaguely at one of the windows. "-those critters."

"Seems more like them than a normal person." Heisenberg muttered.

"Nobody's normal." You insisted, sounding almost annoyed. "Not even if they want to be. No matter how much you polish or clean things up, humans are weird. Sure, we can pretend for a little while, but we're all just a few wrong moves away from revealing how awkward we are."

"Awkward?" Karl snorted in disbelief. "I should be so damn lucky to be considered awkward, sugar. Better that than the town freak."

–pitchforks and torches, factory ablaze, iron-red scent in the air–

"What do you want me to say, huh?" was your retort, snapping Karl out of whatever memory that was. "I don't know you, but I'm trusting you on my property. The Duke vouched for you, which counts for something. Not much, but something." You leaned forward, one accusatory finger aimed at his chest. "I don't see any effing talismans around the property to ward you off. Do you?"

He couldn't meet your gaze. Heisenberg had no idea how to tell you that the mangled charm he had found tied to the fenceline made his hand feel like it was on fire when he tried to replace it on the post. I'm like them, I'm like them sat at the base of his throat, a lump of cold dread.

You sighed after a minute of his silence, apparently taking it as acceptance. "Of course you don't. So don't…don't worry about that stuff, okay? Worry about it when you have to. Don't make more trouble for yourself." One of your hands slipped along his jaw and Karl flinched before he could stop it, the instinctive motion obviously startling you because you quickly pulled away. "Oh sorry! Sorry, sorry." You apologized. "I shouldn't have…uh, that's on me."

"No it's--it's fine." Karl tried to wave you off, forcing a chuckle. "No harm done, right?"

…

His eyes had only met yours for a second, yet it felt like a lifetime. There was something there in his expression that had sent a shudder down your spine, compounded by the way he had flinched back. Karl laughed it off but his visage was guarded. Clearly whatever it was, he didn't feel like confronting it now. It may have even been something he didn't remember; some odd reaction to a thing he couldn't explain.

What is it like, you wondered with a flash of sympathy, to exist in a body that remembers what the mind doesn't?

Heisenberg eventually stood back up, the maul hanging loosely from his fingertips while he carried on that circuitous roaming. The repetitive creaking of the floorboards slowly began to lull you into a doze, the stubby candles on the wood stove burning low as the time passed.

The rustling of Heisenberg's tattered overcoat served to herald his rounds close to your resting place, and during your uneasy drowse you felt a hand tug up the light blanket that had slid off of your shoulder.

The dawn came slowly. Neither of you got much rest, you were fairly sure. At some point Karl had settled down in front of the door, his coat draped over him like a makeshift quilt. The maul was tucked up alongside him, a loyal companion even in slumber.

You had to admit, in the light of day you felt a bit foolish for being so scared the night before. But…Karl had been concerned too, right? Maybe he was just following your lead?

You scoffed at yourself, getting to your feet. You had survived the night and thus, there was the work of the day to be done. Breakfast first, then the chores you had neglected yesterday while you whipped yourself into a frenzy over (probably) nothing.

You squinted out the window next to the sink as you quickly washed your hands, scrutinizing the edge of your property with tired eyes. Everything looked okay, but you knew you would walk the fenceline later. If only to make yourself feel better! Maybe you would find a bear trail, or something else to allay the fears that still gnawed at you.

The morning meal was simple. You were still working your way through the abundance of plums from last year's harvest so dried fruit and a piece of hard cheese from the pantry lined your stomach well enough for the moment, but you would have to add bread to your to-do list. Having Karl in your home was quickly tearing a hole in your food supply; you were so accustomed to stretching your stores that dealing with a guest was proving difficult to manage.

Were you really so solitary that an unexpected visitor was enough to throw everything off? Granted, you did live alone in an off-the-grid cabin well past the outskirts of some old, abandoned village. You were pretty sure it was abandoned, anyway. The only map you'd ever seen it on was a moldering scrap of paper included with the equally-old deed to your current abode, and until the Duke had trundled up the rutted, overgrown road, you hadn't seen another person for quite a while.

You were self-sufficient, that's all, and you valued your peace and quiet. Out here, nothing really bothered you. Aside from the occasional deer pilfering fallen apples during the autumn or a fat boar rooting its way through your lettuce and green beans in the summer, that is.

You didn't mind being alone.

Karl mumbled a protest when you roused him from his spot in front of the door, and you quickly ushered him to relocate on the couch. It seemed like he was asleep before he was fully horizontal, much to your amusement. No time for that though, there was work to be done!

…

Karl groggily came to, realizing the noise he had heard in his dreams was the sound of the cabin door creaking open in the breeze. You were outside humming some tuneless, meandering thing, punctuated by occasional grunts of exertion.

Heisenberg stared wearily up at the knotholes in the ceiling. Did you ever stop? In the brief time he had known you it seemed like you were always doing things, always occupied with some eternal, infernal task. Sisyphean, his brain reminded him helpfully. Clearly he enjoyed clinging to useless information.

He sat up with a groan, stretching his arms overhead and then rubbing absently at the scarring on his abdomen. It didn't really itch, not exactly. The Duke had left behind some sort of ointment for him that you had been dutifully applying every other day and it seemed to help expedite Karl's healing process, but the skin around the area always felt a little too tight.

At that moment you shouldered open the ajar door, your sleeves rolled up to the elbow and your hands covered in…

Karl lunged to his feet, groping for the maul and watching it come flying from beside the doorframe to his waiting grasp. "What happened?!" He all but shouted at you, bewildered when you met the inquiry with a breathless little laugh. Were you in shock? That was a lot of blood!

Now you were waving your hands around, as if to distract him. "I'm sorry! I didn't want to wake you. Something got a deer at the back fenceline, I've been prepping it to dress." You explained, nudging open one of your cabinets with your elbow and scooping up a pile of stained towels. "Had to hoist it to drain, the usual."

"Oh." Karl wasn't sure how much of this his heart could take. The poor thing was currently hammering in his throat and he got the feeling it'd be that way for a while. "Wait, what do you mean something?" He latched onto your words, suspicion mounting as your expression shifted from puzzled to concerned.

"I thought…I thought it was wolves, maybe?" You reasoned. "They're pretty skittish, so if they'd heard something in the house moving they might have left the deer."

Karl followed you out of the cabin, still firing off questions while the two of you trekked across the yard. "How'd it die, did you see any weird marks on it?" I didn't hear shit, there's no way it was wolves.

"Usual stuff." You settled onto your haunches beside the strung-up deer, gesturing vaguely at the neck which had been ripped open. "Must have tired it out and then took it down."

Heisenberg crouched beside you, examining the primary wound and finding that his eyes seemed much too accustomed to the scene. It stirred odd half-recollections in his broken memory, ushering things to the surface that, frankly, he was getting a little nervous about.

--looking down at a body with his hands up to the forearm in the abdomen, his own cajoling, mocking voice echoing in some deep, dark hole–

The deer. The deer for fuck's sake keep it together Karl.

Karl forced himself to focus, tracing a half moon-shaped bite imprint with a sinking feeling in his stomach. "This isn't a wolf kill." He said finally. "That's from a human mouth, or at least one shaped like it, see?"

You gave him an incredulous look but obliged, your knee knocking into his as you shuffled over. After a moment, you wrinkled your nose. "Guess I shouldn't cure this, then. Be a bit of a waste to dry what might be contaminated meat." You sounded dejected, continuing, "I was hoping it was a lucky break. You like meat and I just…storing it is always an issue for me so I usually only take down small things in snares. Rabbits, pheasants." You sat back, grimacing at your bloody hands. "Give me a minute and I'll haul this away so we don't attract anything unsavory."

"I'll do it."

"You're still recovering! Splitting wood is one thing, dragging a dead body through the forest is-"

Something I'm intimately familiar with. Karl cut you off, shaking his head. "Just let me. I already feel like all this is happening because I'm here. If it's really got nothing to do with me, this is the biggest goddamn coincidence I've ever witnessed." He swore, then growled, "where the hell is that fat bastard when we need him?"

"He is a creature of convenience." You acquiesced, your smile rueful. "His own, specifically. Wonder how much lei I'll have to scare up for some fresh talismans?"

"If he charges you I'll kill him myself." Karl stated flatly, mentally reeling from the sudden animosity that flared up. "Fuck that prick and his two-timing bullshit." Two-timing? Where did that come from?

True to his word and despite your protests, Karl shouldered the deer carcass and lumbered off into the woods. You pointed him towards the trail you had previously marked out with small blazes on the trees so he simply followed it to what you had dubbed your 'disposal site'.

As he trudged, Karl noted in a somewhat distant way that the body he had slung over his shoulders didn't seem…all that heavy? Granted, it had lost a bit of blood, but you hadn't even gotten to gutting it yet. He also noticed that the blazes left on the trees were somewhat softened or overgrown, as though they had been there for years. The man's brow furrowed.

Just how long had you been out here? Wherever here was, of course.

The disposal site was a small pile of refuse from your previous endeavors. Bones were scattered around, presumably by whatever scavengers had visited the area. Karl, not really paying attention and moving on autopilot, simply threw the deer to the side. He watched the body skid for a moment, then reality caught up with him.

That deer should be heavy. It should be pretty heavy, bare minimum. He had heard the way you had struggled to lift it, even with the pulley system you used to hoist it up on a nearby tree branch to drain. But to him, it felt like nothing. Karl flexed his fingers nervously, sure he was missing something. Moving metal with his brain was all well and good, but if he was some kind of freak why couldn't it only be in one regard? What else was wrong with him?

--the giant hammer slamming down again, the eruption of blood and the sputtering roar of a turbine–

…

You grumbled as you scrubbed at your arms, annoyed with the current turn of events. You'd really thought you had caught a break, finding that deer! Instead, all you had gotten was disappointment. You shouldn't be surprised, knowing your luck, but still. Annoying. Disheartening.

You dashed a few tears away, frustrated with yourself for getting so wound up again. Maybe you could chalk it up to the poor sleep you'd gotten the previous night. You inhaled deeply, trying to rein everything in and force yourself to be rational. You'd just have to set some snares, that wasn't any big deal! You were making a mountain out of a molehill here.

You scrubbed a little harder, huffing out a breath.

There was a crashing in the undergrowth that heralded the return of Karl but you didn't turn to look at him, simply raising a hand to acknowledge his presence and then going back to tediously cleaning the grime from beneath your fingernails.

You yelped, dodging the spray it kicked up which caused Karl to chuckle. "What, afraid of getting wet?" He teased, grabbing the sleeve of the shirt and preparing to reel it in.

Karl slouched down beside you on the riverbank, the shoulder of his worn shirt smeared with blood from the carcass. You realized belatedly that maybe you should have offered him one of your rags to keep the stains to a minimum, but he didn't seem overly concerned with appearances. He was silent for a moment, staring down at the running water. Then, without preamble, he undid a few buttons on his shirt and jerked it over his head, flinging it into the water. He nearly took his undershirt off along with it, but managed to wriggle loose at the last moment.

"No, no, you'd better not!" You exclaimed, scrambling to your feet. "Don't you d-" The wet shirt smacked your leg, sending a frigid jolt up your spine and making you unleash the most embarrassing squawk of dismay.

Heisenberg's smirk was positively devious, the man slapping the shirt back down into the water once more as you raced away. "You can't escape me that easily, sugar!"

"I can try!" You yelled back, ducking through your fence and bolting into the woods.

You could still hear him laughing as he pursued you and weirdly you found yourself giggling too. It was as if the tension had broken, the two of you sprinting through the trees without a care in the world. Eventually, breathless, you ended up back at the edge of your property waving off Heisenberg's quickly-advancing form.

"Time out!" You gasped, flopping against a tree trunk. "I give up, okay? You got me."

Instead of snapping the shirt at you like you had been expecting Karl crowded you back against the tree, cupping your face with the sopping fabric. You closed your eyes, luxuriating in the sudden coolness after your mad dash, and you heard Karl swallow hard. When you opened your eyes again Karl was looking at you with that odd expression, his own gaze troubled.

He had never been this close to you and you realized, in an absent sort of way, that his green irises had an amber-yellow ring around the pupil. In this light, you mused internally, he's almost handsome. "What? Do I have something on my face?" You finally quipped, already missing the lighthearted mood of moments before.

Karl opened his mouth, paused, and then simply stepped back, sweeping his hat off to offer you an elaborate bow in the direction of your home. "I'll let you off easy this once." His smile was sardonic.

A strange sense of loss came over you as he sauntered away but you hurriedly shook it off, running to catch up with him instead as he laboriously began to rebutton the damp shirt over his threadbare undershirt. "If you want meat, I expect you to lend me a hand setting up the snares."

"More shit to do!" The man half-laughed, half-groaned at your demand, settling his hat further back on the crown of his head. "Don't you ever take a break?"

"No, not really," was your blunt response.

"Well," Karl drew the word out, giving you a haughty look. "Maybe you ought to."

"The genius on display." You replied sarcastically, flicking the brim of his hat. "If I don't do shit, who will? You're not going to be here forever y'know, and I can't exactly rely on having an extra pair of hands."

"I think you could, though." Heisenberg's eyes were pointedly fixed ahead when you glanced at him. "For a little while, at least?" The only way you could tell it was a question was the barely-there uptick in his tone of voice at the end. You, for your part, were a bit stunned. You hadn't thought…

"W-Well that's up to you!" You stuttered out, feeling strangely flustered. "I'm not kicking you out, if that's what you're asking. You leave when you want to. But," you then paused, trying to infuse some gravity into the situation, "you will have to keep pitching in if you stay, so I'm not sure if the tradeoff is worth it to you."

It was at least half a joke.

Well, maybe a quarter. There was always work.

"Understood." You watched him withdraw a pair of leather gloves from his back pocket, then Karl tilted his head towards you with a grin. "Snares, huh? Think the rope is strong enough to snag a boar?"

…

It was odd, the easy way Karl slotted into your day to day. You woke before him in the mornings and he went to bed well after you, the two of you still on different sleep schedules. You partitioned off a section of the living room so that he could have a bit of privacy, shoving the repaired camping cot into the corner behind the sheet.

That was it. Simple. Painless.

He helped around the yard, pulling weeds in the garden or watering as the summer continued to march on. He held fences so you could mend them and the two of you did your best to not talk about the withered remains of the Duke's charms, now all but crumbled to dust. He checked the snares and you could tell whether the trap had been a success by listening for his distant crowing in delight.

Karl's presence became normal. Mundane, even.

Many's the morning he came stumbling out of the cabin door, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he passed you a cup of something to drink. Karl often urged you to take breaks, "even for a second or two," and you would usually oblige, if grudgingly. The extra set of hands was appreciated, but you didn't want to fully rely on him. That wasn't fair to either of you! He should be free to pick up his pieces should his memory return in full, and the last thing you wanted was him sticking around out of fear that you would be ineffective on your own after all of his help.

A day then came where you felt like another shift occurred, a gray day where you were feeding more wood into your stove, intent on making an excess of quality charcoal for the rain barrel filter you knew needed refreshing soon. It was dull, smoky work and Heisenberg for his part was content to sit, the man leafing through one of your few dog-eared books with an increasingly-sour squint.

"Not your thing?" You finally asked, a little pricked by the stiffness of his face. Karl shook his head absently and you watched his eyes dart over the pages. You tried again, "I didn't bring much with me, so that's kind of a favorite." Kind of. The poor book's tattered state heralded a lifetime of reading; shoved into bags or pockets and bookmarked over and over.

Karl looked up, that grim squint still holding firm. "You don't gotta' lie to me, you know. Books don't get like this without love." He closed the book, fanning the air with it. "I uh, I don't think your stove is drawing right. The smoke is burning my eyes a little."

To your dismay you realized that he was, in fact, correct. The stove was currently billowing smoke from the ajar door and you scrambled to adjust the crooked old chimney, but in your haste you forgot how hot the metal would be.

Heisenberg was on his feet before the pained noise left your mouth, the man yanking you back a step and then glaring at the leaning stovepipe, which snapped itself as straight as a poker. "Sugar," he chastised, examining your palms as you hissed in pain. "C'mon, let's get you to the river before that blisters."

In an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability, instead of protesting you simply let yourself be led to the riverbank. The chill of the water worked quickly to soothe your scalded skin, reducing the pain to a small area on the heel of one of your palms. Karl kept your hands in his own, the man not meeting your eyes the entire time he ministered to you. When you flinched he muttered an apology, his voice gruff, and something about the tone had your stomach in knots.

"I think it'll be okay." You said softly after a few minutes. Karl started, like he had forgotten you were there, like he had forgotten your hands were cupped in his. His eyes locked with yours and you smiled, wanting to express your gratitude for his presence but having difficulty coming up with the words. You simply settled on, "thank you."

In reply, Heisenberg huffed and snorted so much you were certain he was going to choke, the man just jamming his hat down around his ears and then sauntering off. "What are you waiting for?" he yelled over his shoulder. "You keep sitting around and the house is gonna' burn down!"

More likely to get blown over by a huffing, puffing wolf, you thought with a private little snicker as you rose.

…

Indebted was the only word he could think of, but it was…wrong somehow. Every time you smiled, it let Karl convince himself to stay a little while longer.

Besides, it wasn't…so bad being indebted. If he could even call it that.

There came the day when you ran out of the salves the Duke had given you for Karl's wounds and it was pitiful, but Heisenberg almost missed the way you would tend to his fading scars. Almost. He told himself it wasn't that he missed the actual care, but it was easier for his body to mend if his brain was receiving constant affirmation about it. Without that, well, things might slow a bit.

He felt like he couldn't afford to slow down, for whatever reason. The feeling in his stomach continued to yawn wider, the desire to move and cause harm with every step becoming more and more prevalent.

He'd had you there, beneath that tree, and that was what had shaken him to his core. The tunnel vision that took hold of him as he chased you was…something he didn't want to examine too closely.

Like them. Whatever they were.

He had pulled away. Had deflected. A cocksure attitude did a lot to hide certain reactions, certain expressions he wasn't the master of. The reality of knowing that it was a switch, some terrible thing inside of him that bayed for violence, kept Karl's sleep even more poor than it had been previously. And when he would forget, overstep, cozy up, Heisenberg would sternly remind himself of The Facts: he was clearly Bad and you were Good and the way the world worked was not kind to people like him.

Really, it wasn't so terrible. Sometimes you even thanked him, your hands in his own after you burned yourself, your face so close to his and your smile small but no less genuine for its size.

As the first apples began to ripen on your two trees (to Karl's combined horror and relief) an unfamiliar-familiar cart made its ponderous way up the now nearly-intraversable road.

You were still inside washing dishes from lunch, so Karl called to you through the window to alert you and then acquired the maul from the woodpile. That gargantuan bastard had some things to answer for.

"It is good to see you so hearty once more, my Lord!" The Duke called once Karl was within earshot, his broad face split with a grotesque smile. "Your recovery was no guarantee, after all."

My Lord. My Lord. Lord Karl Heisenberg. My Lord.

Karl reached up as high as he could and seized a handful of the Duke's straining shirt collar, his voice a seething whisper when he demanded, "tell me what you know or I'm feeding you to the fucking wolves."

Part Three

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn

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pastafossa · 7 months

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How do you get past writer's block? I have a fic that I'm working on that is updating on a schedule, and I made the mistake of giving myself a month off in between parts and now I can't really get back into writing it. I don't want to leave it abandoned because I have a few people who I know are really invested and I don't want to leave them hanging, but I'm having a hard time getting as excited to write it as I did before.

Ok so I'm in a weird place for this, hilariously. Because The Answer That Usually Works For Me (TM) and that carried me through a regular weekly update schedule for almost two and a half years is, in fact, not at present working for me apparently my brain can write through a pandemic but not through recovery from the shit that went down in December/Jan so we found my writing kryptonite. However, I'm going to assume you're closer to 2021 Pasta than 2024 Pasta. SO LET'S GO WITH THE METHOD I NORMALLY USE SINCE IT WAS SUCCESSFUL FOR YEARS. Cause that's the thing: sure, I've written almost a million words, and pumped out chapters for years (ignoring the past few months) but I promise, I hit the same walls as everyone else even when nailing weekly uploads. But over those years, I came up with a fairly solid list of steps that I'd go through one by one.

Fun one first: when I'm in a block, I almost always try re-engaging with canon first. I'd rewatch my favorite episodes, binge a whole season, or even the whole series depending on how much of a boost I needed. For me at least that was often like Pavlov's bell, my favorite story triggering a flood of affection. I'd remember why I loved this fandom and the characters so much, and it could often kickstart my brain and excitement back into gear. If you really want to dangle a carrot and your fic touches on canon, focus on watching parts you're excited to get to in your story. A big one for me in TRT for example was the post-Nobu, Nelson v. Murdock episode, since I'd had that planned for TRT almost since the start, and I was very excited to reach the hurt/comfort I had planned. Even if your fic isn't following canon though, see if it'll give you a creative rush again!

So let's say step 1 doesn't work, either because the canon just isn't hitting the spot or because your fic is dealing with something else. In this case, my next step was usually to jump ahead to write a scene I was really eager to get to. It was often a short blurb, but it was always something I REALLY wanted to explore, and because I'm also a reader who likes exactly the tropes and plots I'm writing, I want to read what fucking happens. Except, fuck, I'm not there yet, am I? And I can't see how that scene finishes until I write my way up to it and finish it. This is my own carrot. Multiple scenes in TRT were written months or even years in advance, simply as a way to bribe myself. This is also an option!

But maybe this doesn't work. Sometimes it didn't. This is when it got a bit more serious. For anyone who was reading at the time, you'd have noticed that I'd sometimes drop side fics, either Matt POVs or one-shots. This was me, in essence, working on the shower principle (basically, ideas/solutions will come if you stop thinking about it and do something else, like take a shower). I figured if I went and wrote something else - either with less stress, or something fun and dopamine-inducing - the part of my brain focused on my Big Fic would wander around the writer's block beneath my notice. And it almost always worked, all while I still kept my brain trained that, hey, even if we're not writing This Thing, we're still writing.

But let's say this doesn't work either. You're well, and truly, stuck. Been there now and then. And, you're going to hate this one. I hate it but it works 9 times of 10. And it is: Write anyway. Half of it was spite. I was not going to give up my schedule, I liked my schedule. The other half was that I knew myself. I knew if I could just get past the chapter/plot/dialogue I was struggling with, I'd be able to roll along again. And so I made a rule: whatever I wrote didn't have to be pretty. It just had to exist. If that meant I wrote, "Jane chased the cat in circles and caught it. She was happy." then that's what I wrote. Because everything, EVERYTHING, can be fixed in editing. But you can't fix what doesn't exist. And so there were those nights when I would scowl and groan and snarl and bash my head against that writer's block until 5 in the morning, but in the end Jane chased that fucking cat adn caught it, it was written. Hilariously, sometimes those chapters have wound up amazing (likely because I spent so much time hammering at them) and reader favorites. There are absolutely, I believe, moments where you can, and should, see if you can push through.

But that brings me to *waves* now. A lesson I've only recently recently and with encouragement. Namely... sometimes brain no go and that's ok. My steps work for me 99.9% of the time, but I've done the above during the past few months, and it just... hasn't dragged me out entirely out of it yet. Sometimes, our brains demand that break, especially when things just aren't going great. There's a reason TRT had a break of roughly 2 years between chapter 4 and chapter 5 (feel free to check the chapter index with dates on AO3!). I had some life things happening and I just was not in a place to write, even if I was still busily plotting and planning and thinking about TRT behind the scenes. And that was ok. We're not machines. I came back like a bulldozer in Jan 2021, yes, and bulldozed through weekly updates, but that break was needed. And now I'm obviously taking a short one again while I recover from everything. It's ok if you're not in a place for it. So the last step is one I've been told a lot by dear friends recently as they helped me through this: be kind to yourself, and try not to stress if none of the above works. The story will always be there, and if TRT is any indication through all its highs and lows, your readers will be there when you start up again.

#writer's block #i am on step five if that's not obvious and that's ok #steps 1-4 got me through about 2 years of writing and over a hundred chapters. damn near a mill words.#so i'm VERY confident it works most of the time #or it does for me anyway #just. you know. not all the time #what's funny is i suspect if you read all of trt knowing the above #you'll SEE these moments #moments where i clearly hit a chapter i'd written ahead of time cause it had more detail or more excitement radiating in my notes #alternatively no one has any idea which ones are which which is even funnier to me #look i do not judge *anyone* who just can't do weekly chapter #the pandemic was a weird period where i had the time to do that and the management required to keep up with it outside then is intense #like it's possible. i was doing it before shit started going sideways last year cause that was NOT my year basically from july onwards #but just be kind to yourself about it #the story will come #and your readers will be there for it

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onyx-archer · 3 months

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Hunter: A Casualty of Cancellation

Been a hot minute since I did one of these for the Owl Show, and because someone I don't think is very smart tried to act like my opinion on Hunter was "objectively wrong," I'm writing this out of spite. That said, I am still going to approach this much like I did my previous posts about TOH of this ilk (which you can find HERE and HERE if you wanna see those and haven't yet, the latter actually hints at the existence of this post as a possible thing, so the prophecy has been fulfilled).

As post's title should explain, the subject of this post is Hunter, a very popular character in the TOH fandom. He's a character that I have pretty mixed opinions on because of how he was handled. On one hand, I think he meets the criteria to be a "good" character (for whatever that subjective view is worth), but on the other, I don't think he's got much in the way of substance. While I don't have a problem with a character lacking a bit of depth, it's one of those things where I don't get the hype. A lot of that comes down to how the show is written in Season 2, namely it's second half. I'll explain what I mean under the cut.

Now, as I mentioned in the Stringbean post linked above, there are a few things within the show I consider "casualties" in the writing department due to the cancellation. Stringbean was the highest on that list, for reasons stated in the other post. The Collector is second highest, because I don't really care as much about him getting trimmed down to the bare minimum. And bringing home the bronze is ironically the Golden Guard himself.

I want to make something abundantly clear: I don't hate the character of Hunter. I'm not his biggest fan, sure, but I don't think he's a "bad" character. I think he meets a sort of "bare minimum" standard of "good," as I mentioned earlier. I'm only putting the words "bad" and "good" in quotes because quality is an extremely subjective concept, and while this is a post detailing my opinion, I know some more anally pedantic people reading this are going to try and insist otherwise. Those people know who they are, and I hope they know I think they're stupid.

With that said, I don't think Hunter has a lot of substance/depth, or at least to the capacity that other fans do. I've seen the show a number of times, and I've never really saw him as anything special. Given what I've said about him in the past, I think it's obvious that a lot of why I think this comes down to him being a Cancellation Causality™, having been unable to reach his true potential as a character.

A lot of people like to latch onto a character based on the potential the character has, and not necessarily the character as they are written in the source text. This isn't an inherently bad thing, as we all do it. I do it all the time. It's fun to think of all of the fascinating things you can do with a character that an author doesn't really utilize to their full potential. I think Hunter is one of those characters for a lot of people.

It's undeniable that the character is not "whole" as far as his character arc is concerned. Yeah, he has a complete arc, for all intents and purposes, but much like a lot of things within The Owl House, the cancellation had an impact on how he was written. Part of this is because the show had to expedite a lot of things that they likely would have spent more time on had they gotten more time, with Hunter's growth as a character likely got some changes when they needed to get down to the bare essentials to have the show end in a reasonably satisfying way.

As I mentioned in the Stringbean post, I'm aware this is fueled by a lot of speculation, but I'm willing to bet that Hunter's arc to becoming a member of the "Hexsquad" (as the fandom has collectively agreed to call Luz and her Hexside friends' group) was going to be a more gradual process. We likely would have seen him be more prickly with the group for longer than we do in the final product, even if a lot of key events of Season 2B stayed the same. I personally doubt that would be the case, given the pacing ramping up more, and plot points being dropped.

We know that starting with Season 2B, there were cuts. We know that the Galdorstones because Dana herself stated as much. We also know Galdorstones are an "ingredient" in making a Grimwalker, and what is Hunter? Oh, right, a Grimwalker. The Galdorstone plot elements likely would have been in Hunter's arc as a character, with some kind of self-acceptance of his Grimwalker identity.

Hunter being a Grimwalker in the series feels just like a convenient way to have him feel isolated from the rest of the main group (outside of his lack of natural magic abilities), and ultimately means nothing for the character. Him being a clone of Caleb Whittebane means basically nothing in the greater context of the narrative, and like a footnote of Hunter's arc. Part of this is because we don't have much context for Caleb beyond brief mentions and whatnot, but also because we know next to nothing about Grimwalkers. At the end of the day, this is a thing that adds the illusion of depth without really doing much.

Of course, I understand why we don't get the details/additional context for Grimwalkers and Caleb Whittebane; those details don't really matter for Luz's arc, which, as the main character of the series, takes precedence over literally everything else. Dana and the team had to make a choice, and they chose to focus on Luz's arc (which I cover in my post about people "not getting" what her arc is), rather than Hunter's arc, or any other character's arc. It was more important for the sake of the show ending in a satisfying way in what little time they had.

With that said, however, it does leave Hunter as a character with this vague idea of having substance under the surface (i.e. character depth), but it's been shaved down to the bare minimum for the sake of brevity. We can all assume things about his upbringing and whatnot, but that ultimately doesn't mean much because we don't see that stuff. It's not in the show, and because the show has a distinct lack of in-universe supplementary material, it means nothing. We can assume a lot about who Hunter is because of how Belos views him as an object, and subjected him to things that we can certainly label as "abusive," but as an abuse survivor, I don't really need Hunter for that when Amity exists and has a more tangible arc that involves her abusive parental figure.

Speaking of, that abusive parent thing is really only used well in one episode for Hunter, in my view, and that's in the episode "Eclipse Lake." Hunter contrasts Amity in that episode in a very good way from a writing standpoint. Both are kids that come from crappy homes, and both of them are hunting the same thing. He is able to effectively weaponize Amity's insecurity caused by her mother's abuse to make her think Luz is going to break up with her if she fails in finding the Titan's Blood, and he's able to because we know he's in a similar boat to what he projects onto Amity and Luz's relationship. It's the one time where Hunter's arc highlights what the character's journey could have been, as they could have returned to this insecurity angle later in a proper Season 3, and have Amity be someone who helps Hunter understand that his new friends won't cast him aside if he "doesn't get results." They could have done this in either realm, but they didn't have time.

Then there's his budding feelings for Willow. It's a sweet relationship at it's core, and the fact that the show never got the chance to properly explore it in canon, it's become the fandom's favorite ship to write that isn't Lumity, and sort of dominates a lot of the fanfics I see now because Lumity has been explored so much by comparison (it's honestly a little annoying, as a Lumity fan). Dana even implied that it's canon in a livestream after the finale, but because it didn't get explicit confirmation within the show, it is just that: implied. It could have been something that not only expanded on Hunter's character, but also Willows (not that I think she really needs the added depth at the end of the day, but that's a discussion for another day), and that's just what cancellation does to the non-essential characters in a story.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying a character needs to be "essential" to justify their existence in a story, nor do I think characters like Hunter or Willow are "unimportant." I'm just saying they simply become less essential to the broader narrative of the series.

Ultimately, that leads into why I think Hunter is such a bloody frustrating character to think about: all of the things that make him who he is feel like they were done better elsewhere with other characters, or had to be trimmed down to a sliver of relevance for the sake of getting things done within the time limit the cancellation of the show put on things, because it wasn't an essential piece of the plot when cuts had to be made.

I can't really accept that he has "depth" in the way a lot of people do because I don't equate headcanons and assumptions with depth. Hunter's a character that has the visage of a character with depth and intrigue and all of the qualities of what most would consider a "good character" on the surface, but lacks a lot of that, at least to me, because he didn't get the time devoted to him that is required.

Amity serves as a strong point of comparison to me, because she has the time put in pre-cancellation to be interesting. We see her gradual arc from "Mean Girl at the top of her class" to "dorky sapphic girl that's happier than she's ever been" over the course of her many appearances, and I feel like if the show had gotten a proper 3 Season order, we would have seen more of that from Hunter. We would have seen him gradually open up to others, and gradually become happier and have his "Amity breaking the pendant" moment equivalent where he gets to finally accept that he deserves to be happy.

We get hints that he's happier in the Human Realm because he is allowed to spread his wings and discover things he's passionate about, but we don't really get much beyond that because the show didn't have the time to properly explore Hunter's progression as a person up to that point. It's like a sandwich that had chunks of it's filling taken out of it before you get it. You might still enjoy the sandwich, but you might also be like "man, I wish it had more stuff in it."

Those are my thoughts on Hunter put into a post. Ultimately, I know there's gonna be people who say that I'm still "objectively wrong" about any of this, because some people don't actually know what objectivity is... but that's to be expected. Hopefully there's enough people out there who understand where I'm coming from. I'm not really looking to debate my position, but I'm open to hearing others' opinions.

Until the next random Tumblr essay!

#The Owl House #TOH #Hunter TOH #The Owl House Analysis #TOH Analysis #The Owl House Spoilers #TOH Spoilers #Talking about the cancellation #again #How the cancellation affected the show #Long Post #Hunter

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