#perfectly executed donuts

[slowestlap]

@.f1: Those Abu Dhabi donuts, world champion style! 😎🏆

"Final few moments in the car there, I think it's quite suiting to do a few donuts"

[thebaffledcaptain]

Things that happened at the 250th anniversary of the changing of command at Old Fort Niagara

as recounted by a humble fifer of His Majesty's 22nd Regiment of Foot, for his own records:

The unit got to sleep in the French Castle, which sounds much more luxurious than it was, but I’m still happy we had the chance to do it—it’s the main barracks building in the fort, with three stories that house officers’ quarters, mess halls, store rooms, and even a chapel. In period accurate style, however, the regiment was quartered on the third floor where something like a hundred soldiers would have slept on wooden pallets around the perimeter of the room.

Three of us, myself included, squeezed into the weird little nook between the two doorways and decided that was the most fun place to sleep.

In hindsight I can only assume it was not the most fun place to sleep because man was it hot in there. The site had the windows padlocked and some people had to go convince a staff member to open them so we wouldn’t suffocate the next night as well.

Two unfortunate souls swore up and down that they had an encounter with a ghost on the first night and immediately ran down to the chapel on the second floor. It was not until after I left that I discovered the site is rumored to be haunted by…. *checks notes* a Headless Frenchman?

There were a ludicrous amount of donuts for breakfast both days. Like, every flavor you could imagine, laid out across four modern folding tables. That was how the Fort justified not providing us with any sort of rations. Just… an absurd amount of donuts.

On the second day I ate my donut watching two highlanders struggle to set up a stretcher, assuming they were probably going to do some kind of medical demo with it later

As I’m walking back to the barracks with my friend I hear a voice behind me go “make way for the King’s donuts!”

I turn around and the same two highlanders are carrying eight donuts, each in a different flavor on its own individual plate, perfectly laid out in a line that spans the entire length of the stretcher. Here’s the visual because you need one.

Somehow I managed to lose the entire regiment on the first day. They said they were going off to drill and apparently went so far from the Fort that I could not find them until they returned—last out of every other unit drilling, of course

During this time the 54th doctor saw that I looked abandoned and offered me a seat next to his operating table and… dismembered limbs etc etc. I accepted for the shade though with some trepidation.

My fellow 22nd fifer abandoned me to be a man-at-arms this weekend. The 54th drummer and I got some quality bonding time as the only musicians in our battalion.

We did make kind of an executive decision to detach ourselves from the 43rd when we split into companies after watching them accidentally wheel themselves into a corner of some sort… but, you know. No one cares what music does anyway

In fact one of the 8th fifers aptly described our job as to criticize and/or commentate on the rest of the goings-on we had no part in, in a fashion I describe as being much like a bunch of little peacocks in the back. If I’m being honest that’s my favorite part of the role.

In accordance with this principle, my fellow fifer and I took it upon ourselves to put lavender sprigs in as many of the regiment’s hats as we could. We didn’t get very far but the sentiment was there.

Our sergeant took it upon himself to explain the origin of the word “cock” on multiple occasions because the fully grown adult men in this unit have the collective maturity of a 12 year old

Kind of disappointed with the tavern night (bad beer and not even in a historical part of the fort) but ended up having a long conversation with some 54th guys, so now I can say I was challenged to a duel by the 54th sergeant?

Alright, slight exaggeration there—both of us fence and while I saw him doing some friendly sparring with a few other people, we never got the chance for a bout, so now it's up in the air for the next event we're both at.

Also, he said "Spepsi" instead of "Pepsi" exactly one (1) time and I tormented him with it for the rest of the night. It's a good thing he's not my sergeant or I might be digging myself into a hole with that.

Watched two highlanders at the front of their files wheel decisively left when a right wheel was called and then sheepishly jog back to the rest of their unit

Greatly enjoyed hearing one of our guys’ “deaths” on the battlefield, which are famous for his Wilhelm scream-esque exclamations

On two occasions, the 54th sergeant turned to me (once on the battlefield, once in the middle of a very solemn memorial service) to tell me “it’s stinky over here”

I did not think this would be the event where I bonded with an NCO from a regiment I was not a part of but I’ll take it

The regiment bought $700 worth of Russian Drill from one of the sutlers. Cleared out his stock. Needless to say a pair of Russian Drill britches is in my future

On the second day for some reason the Drum Major decided not to do any kind of drummer’s call before forming up for battle and just told us musicians to be on the lookout.

I was there for that announcement and stuck with my regiment so I was fine. The 54th drummer, however, was not aware of this and the entire battalion marched past him as he was just sitting under one of the tents—I waved to him hoping he would join us but he just… waved back at me…

Cut to five minutes later—the 54th sergeant turns to me and goes “where’s [drummer]?” and I have to tell him we just… marched right past him. We give it another minute and suddenly, in the distance, the disheveled green figure of the 54th drummer frantically running to catch up to us… poor fellow. Not his fault nobody communicated to him. Which is a problem that could easily be solved by, you know, utilizing the Music (as would have been historically accurate), but apparently no one wants to do that…

I seem to be making a bit of a name for myself as the British Army’s Mandolinist in Residence, or, as some of my comrades have nicknamed me, “The Mandolier” (which. I have to be honest. Is a cooler term)

On Saturday night my fellow fifer and I stayed up until almost two in the morning singing despite the knowledge we had to be up at 6 to do reveille. However I did not regret this decision then nor do I now.

Nothing compares to the experience of singing Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald at midnight, sitting on a wall that drops off straight into Lake Ontario, at a centuries-old fort with no one around. This was Sunday night, when most of the units had left and we had the fort to ourselves and a handful of other souls who couldn’t bring themselves to leave the 18th century just yet—in fact, we had been about to finish our music for the night and our little group had been turning to leave when we started the song and the rest of them came running back.

Indeed, it’s been a week since and I am still not ready to be in the 21st century, nor am I ever, but of all the ways to end this event, I’ll take that one.

[batrachised]

and so we come to the end of Jane of Lantern Hill!

Before I get into the somewhat wincingly bad ending, I'd like to mull over my personal journey with the book out loud, because what is tumblr for if not for navel gazing.

It sounds odd, but for all I've read this book a thousand times before, I had actually never picked up on a lot of what the book club has discussed. I found this book at an age I don't remember, but it was young, and I was glued to it after that and reread it so many times with that first framing. If you had asked me to describe Lantern Hill before the book club, I would have immediately pointed to those chapters in the middle where Jane is thriving, happy with a dad who understands her, her foot on her native heath. In all honesty, I barely registered the existence of Robin. I had my problems with her, but was fairly neutral on her overall because to me the book was so entirely about Jane's experience on PEI. While I knew the book had this disparity between intent and execution in some places, they were in the places I never really looked at twice.

Reading this book so slowly this time around with so many different perspectives was very entertaining lol, most especially because there were so many wildly different opinions, and often on things I had never thought through deeply myself. Robin is the best example of that. And honestly, it's changed my love for the book-not in a way that dampens it, but in a way that gives me a new appreciation. I remember thinking of Jane as a very simple book when I read it over a decade ago for the first time; it's only now with the book club that I'm grasping how truly complex it, and its characters, are. In many ways, there aren't easy answers here.

In the end, I really like a line from a review I read the other day: this is a book whose heart does not lie in the ending. That reflects my personal reaction to the novel perfectly. To me, this book was always about Jane finding her spot on PEI, probably because of the age I first read it. Jane's adventures in homemaking are cozy and satisfying and heartwarming, and they made me want to have a little kitchen and struggle with donuts and learn how to garden.

That being said, the overarching plot and its sad clown honk of an ending can't be ignored. I actually think Robin and Andrew rushing back into each other's arms makes sense for the characters, even if it's very rushed because they're insane. However, it's also emblematic of all the problems they had before, and indicates these problems will continue. LMM does set up them up for success in that (1) Andrew apologizes and overcomes his pride (2) Robin stands up to the grandmother. However, it's more than a little slapdash. Then there's the ultimate parentification of Jane, albeit self-parentification. I do think Jane thinking she'd communicate for her parents is Jane's potentially flawed reading...but I don't think LMM meant it to be flawed sklsksl. This is where I say for me, the book ends with the chapter before, because for me, the book is about Jane's emotional arc. While I do like that the parents get back together, I don't think LMM earns this ending.

All of the discussion from the book club has been delightful, and a dream come true. There are some points raised that I'm still thinking over, and will still be thinking over for a while. so i'll end this post by thanking everyone who participated by posting and sharing posts - it was a ball, and all of ya'll know your onions <3

[heroictoonz]

So, I finished Red vs Blue. Just now like not even a few seconds ago as of writing this post. It was, well to say it bluntly it wasn’t great. I didn’t agree with pretty much most of the endings for these characters and I wish the final season had been longer than less than an hour an a half. Most movies are longer than that these days. But, I will say, that I cried. I cried and sobbed and am still crying writing this because even if I didn’t like how it ended it didn’t end horribly and I can tell it ended in love. All the characters, the ones they had in the season at least, got their emotional 15 minutes of fame. Maybe Tucker didn’t get much at all but, I dunno. As the guy whose only personality trait is liking Tucker RvB I weirdly didn’t mind all too much. Donut wasn’t in it either but he did great in season 17 so I also don’t mind that too terribly.

I will say, I don’t think there was any hope of RvB having an ending that I, personally, would think was ‘good’ or ‘satisfying’. Not perfectly at least. And I don’t say this to be mean. But, this was clearly the kind of show that was meant to run on till it was forced to die. They probably weren’t planning on ending it when they did and it took the company getting taken to pasture for it to be over. With as much random bullshit that they crammed into this show I never much expected for it all to be focused on or tied up in the finale. And this show didn’t start as something that took itself very seriously, but the ending was clearly taken with so much heart and care in mind and that’s all I can ask for from this show, I think.

They ended the show where it began. In a box canyon. They ended the story with Allison and Leonard. The people who unknowingly started all of this in the first place. They did what they could to tie in other loose ends and bring in some really cool ideas to make the ending interesting and still it’s own fun story. It made me sad to watch, honestly. Most the characters I have spent so many years loving just didn’t get the best endings. And I was always afraid of that but, hey maybe I’ll write a fic to give them a better one. Maybe it’s the endings that the RT team thought was most fitting for all of them, and I can understand why. I just, personally, enjoy happy endings. This one wasn’t as happy. But, it had hope in it. Especially Carolina and Wash’s last part. I hate the idea of some of these characters being dead and never coming back. I hate the idea of Grif leaving and never seeing any of the others again. But I get it, I understand the ending and I’m content with it. As weird as that might seem, honestly.

Whenever I finish something I’m always reminded of this Doctor Who episode I watched as a kid where he talks about how much he hates endings. How he will tear the last page from books he reads so they never have to end. It’s funny that without fail I think of that episode, that scene. Because in that episode the Doctor is forced to face an ending. One he doesn’t want but accepts anyways. This is me rambling but, I think every time I finish something I love this much and have loved for this long, whether the ending it good or bad, I think I understand that random Doctor Who episode more and more each time.

Did I like the ending season of Red vs Blue? Not fully. The ideas were cool but as with most of this show the execution wasn’t the best in my opinion. But, maybe I’m just a hard ass lol. But the ending did make me laugh, it made me cry, it made me smile and stim and feel. The ending made me feel. And it was a pretty good send off to a pretty great show. And hell, they got an ending. That’s harder to come by these days. Maybe that’s all I can ask for from it. Maybe that’s why even in my tears I’m content more than any other emotion.

But, it’s also weird. Like a really long chapter of my life is closing. I think this is also where I have to officially accept what happened to RT. As someone who’s followed RWBY, RvB, and Camp Camp for a really long time not to mention the lives and their gaming channel and all of that, it feels weird? Kinda bad, honestly, to see it end. I’ve, admittedly, been avoiding it. Avoiding talking or thinking about it. And I doubt the guys told all the stories they had for this show, but I’m glad they got to end it. I’m glad they got at least that much.

It’s 2am and I have work in about 14 hours. I think I’m gonna go read fanfiction.

[sciencestyled]

Neuroaesthetics: The Brain's Bizarre Ballet in the Circus of Art

Ladies, gentlemen, and sentient algorithms, gather ‘round for an expedition into the wacky, wild world of neuroaesthetics! Picture, if you will, an arena where Salvador Dalí is arm-wrestling Albert Einstein while Banksy spray-paints their shoes with quantum equations. Yes, my friends, we’re diving headfirst into the baffling brain circus that is the science of how we perceive art and beauty!

Now, what in the name of Groot's left boot is neuroaesthetics, you ask? It's the delightful mash-up of neurons and aesthetics, the study of how our gray matter throws a rave every time we lay eyes on something pretty. Imagine your brain as the DJ, mixing beats of visual stimuli with a heavy bassline of emotional response, crafting a psychedelic experience that’d make even Doctor Strange need an aspirin.

Our cerebral DJ starts spinning tracks when we encounter art. Imagine gazing at the Mona Lisa; your neurons start throwing a party like it’s Coachella. This brainy bash involves the visual cortex, which processes what you're seeing, and the limbic system, your emotional epicenter, going “Oh la la!” faster than a cat video goes viral. It's a neural conga line, people!

Let’s geek out with an example, shall we? Imagine stepping into an art gallery. You saunter past a minimalist canvas that looks like a toddler's spaghetti accident and boom—your brain lights up like Times Square. Researchers have discovered that different art styles trigger unique neural patterns. Your noggin has a sophisticated palate, appreciating a Picasso with the same nuanced delight it shows for a perfectly executed TikTok dance challenge.

But wait! This isn’t just about the highbrow art snobs nodding sagely at a Pollock splatter. No, even the hilariously kitschy dogs-playing-poker paintings are in on the act. Studies show that familiar and nostalgic images can zap our brains with more dopamine than a Black Friday sale at a comic book store. It’s like your neurons are high-fiving each other, yelling, “Remember that!?”

Neuroaesthetics isn’t just about looking at pretty pictures, though. Oh no, it’s about how art tickles our brain in the most delightful ways, influencing our perceptions, emotions, and even our decisions. Ever wonder why you can't walk past a donut shop without drooling like Homer Simpson? It's all in the neuroaesthetic sauce, my friends. Visual cues can trigger hunger, happiness, or even existential dread—like when you realize your favorite show got canceled after a cliffhanger finale.

Now, let’s talk impact. The study of neuroaesthetics is like giving the Hulk a paintbrush—it’s smashing! It deepens our understanding of the connection between the brain and art, transforming both how we create and appreciate it. Artists can now craft pieces designed to provoke specific neural reactions. Imagine a painting that makes you feel like you've just downed an espresso shot with a side of inspiration. That’s the neuroaesthetic magic at play.

Art is no longer a passive experience; it’s an interactive, brain-bending escapade. Think of immersive VR art installations where you’re not just looking at the art; you’re inside it. Your brain's response isn't just a “Hey, that’s cool,” but a full-on neural mosh pit. It's like stepping into the Matrix, but instead of dodging bullets, you’re dodging abstract concepts and emotional revelations.

And let’s not forget the therapeutic potential. Neuroaesthetics can help in mental health treatments, using art to rewire the brain in positive ways. It’s like having Bob Ross as your personal therapist, gently coaxing your mind into happy little trees of thought. Studies have shown that engaging with art can reduce stress, boost creativity, and even enhance cognitive functions. It’s brain yoga with a paintbrush!

But what’s the deal with science and art? They’re like the ultimate power couple, merging logic with creativity, and neuroaesthetics is their love child. This field bridges the gap between two realms often seen as polar opposites, showing us that the analytical and the artistic aren’t just coexisting—they’re collaborating like Avengers assembling against Thanos.

Let’s take a detour down the wild highway of pop culture. Remember the moment in Avengers: Endgame when Thor wields both Mjolnir and Stormbreaker? That’s your brain wielding science and art, harmonizing them into a force that’s both powerful and profoundly beautiful. And just like the Hulk, who’s both brains and brawn in Endgame, neuroaesthetics shows that our brains are as much about feeling as they are about thinking.

In conclusion, neuroaesthetics is like the secret menu at a brainy fast food joint, serving up a heady mix of the beautiful and the cerebral, the quirky and the profound. It’s a rollercoaster of neural fireworks, a mash-up of Van Gogh’s starry nights and Da Vinci’s anatomical precision, all orchestrated by the most complex organ in the universe. So next time you gaze at a work of art and feel your neurons do the cha-cha, remember, it’s not just pretty—it’s science, baby!

And there you have it, folks! A whirlwind tour of neuroaesthetics, where your brain and art have a cosmic dance-off in the grand arena of human experience. Until next time, keep those neurons dancing and the art appreciation flowing. Ciao!

[blubberquark]

Losing is Fun

When VVVVVV and Super Meat Boy came out in 2010, they were radical departures from established concepts of game difficulty. Games used to have autosave or save slots, but also lives and health, so that when you overwrote your save in a low-health state you could paint yourself into a corner. Other games had regenerating health, or let you restart over and over from the last checkpoint.

Instead, VVVVVV and Super Meat Boy both had a binary state of life or death. Every hazard was lethal. In VVVVVV, the landscape was riddled with autosave checkpoints. Super Meat Boy was difficult, but levels were short. Restarting was instantaneous. There was no "Game Over" screen, no death animation that could not be skipped, just getting back into the action instantly with a single button press. Most importantly, unlike Super Mario World, neither game has a penalty for dying 50 times in a row.

Super Meat Boy could have been different, with lives and mushrooms and coins, and when you are low on of lives, you might be tempted to go back to the equivalent of "Donut Plains" to farm some 1UP mushrooms. But Super Meat Boy was innovating on Super Mario World by being easier in one way and much, much more difficult in another. There is a very different concept of difficulty, failure, and losing.

Instead of being “easier”, these games took the sting out of failure states, and got the player back into the game quickly.

When I am making a game, I try to focus the difficulty into the game's core gameplay, and in the core loop. If it's a puzzle game, I want the puzzles to be difficult and engaging, not the stuff around it, and I don't want the player to be able to grind his way through the meat of the game by spending effort on all the other parts. That means I'd rather make a boss fight just a little more forgiving by default than give the player the option to grind. I’d rather make platforming easier in order to put emphasis on puzzles.

In my experience, about nine times out of ten, when you identify a difficult section in the game during playtesting, it needs to be dealt with for players of all skill levels. The solution is rarely to just give the player “more health” to tank the hits. It’s usually better to more clearly telegraph what is required to overcome the challenge, to put the required tutorialisation earlier in the game, or to re-design the level/boss/timings/attacks for all skill levels. During playtests, I have often observed players struggle and fail at a certain point because they tried the wrong strategy over and over convinced that they could win by executing their flawed strategy perfectly rather than thinking of an alternative.

Some games can't have difficulty settings. I can think of some persuasive games, for example Depression Quest, Dys4ia, and You Have To Burn The Rope, whose central idea would be undermined by difficulty settings. I can also think of un-gamey interactive experiences such as Proteus, The Stanley Parable, Mountain, or Windosill, where difficulty is just not applicable.

In cases in which difficulty is applicable, there is rarely only one way to implement it. The Curse of Monkey Island had a "regular" mode and a "harder mode" with more puzzles, but no "easy mode". The different difficulty settings in Mobility change the game's goals and platforming mechanics. The difficulty settings in VVVVVV slow down the game by up to 40%. You could give characters more health, more lives, drop more loot, change the sizes of hitboxes, remove obstacles from levels, let the player jump farther, or make the enemy AI stupid.

More drastic interventions like increased jump distance can turn easy mode in a completely different game, such that getting better at easy mode won't help with normal mode. With increased jump distance in a platformer, solutions that work in hard mode might not even work in easy mode either.

Other games have a different focus. Nuclear Throne is a coffebreak action roguelike-like about dying and retrying. If there was an "easy mode" and a save/reload function, players might be tempted to crank the difficulty so low they can beat the game in one run. This is clearly not what the designers intended. Vlambeer's next game Luftrausers was even more explicitly focused on dying and retrying.

Reasoning like “so that players of all skill levels can complete the game like the designer intended“ implies that the designer intended the player to beat the game in the first place. Saying “all games should have difficulty settings“ is an expression of a certain expectation of what games “should“ be, and definitely incompatible with moral objections to the term “walking simulator“.

Ending a run of Papers, Please in starvation and poverty is just as “valid“ as doing your duty for Arstozka, just as valid as getting caught helping dissidents, just as valid as buying fake documents and fleeing. Still, it’s conceivable that such a game could have difficulty settings - but it doesn’t need to.

Balance your game so that the difficulty lies in the core gameplay, not in minigames, movement, or ancillary mechanics. Limit the downsides of failing minigames.

Re-work situations that are too difficult, rather than giving the player “more health“. Make it easier to dodge or seek cover rather than tank hits. Make sure the player knows which parts are supposed to be difficult, and what is impossible. Tell the player the information necessary to beat the next challenge - unless the challenge is a riddle. These changes often solve the same problem that difficulty levels would solve. Corollary: Remove grinding and resource hoarding when possible.

If applicable, rethink your failure states, implied failure states, save system, penalties for losing, ease of restarting, distance from save points, and permanent progression.

When your players lose too often, make losing fun!

[seblore]

This is a toast. A toast to the ones that screamed at the top of their lungs when Seb crossed the line at the 2013 Indian GP, to the smoke from the perfectly executed donut, to the two lucky souls that caught the two gloves, to the toro rosso mechanics that leaned in to give him a high five, to the one rb mechanic that couldn’t stop his tears in the pit wall, to the cameramen that gave him a pat in the back, to the ones that didn’t stop chanting ‘sebastian- VETTEL’ during the entire podium celebration, to the six men that held the V E T T E L sign, to the grid girls that stuck around after the podium to say congrats, to the one that came up with the ‘IV ettel’ shirt, to the one security guard that pushed his way to the front to congratulate him, to David Croft’s bad cricket puns, to Britta Roeska’s beaming smile, and finally to the one that became the youngest four time world champion on 27th October 2013 at the Buddh circuit, Sebastian Vettel.

[manga-gamer]

Study Buddies! (Todoroki x Reader)

“Bakugo, go away!”

You glared at him, and took the pen from his hands.

“I need that!”

“Well it’s my pen, and I’m studying with Todoroki!”

You walked away and put you pen in the cup of other pens, when you heard rustling.

“Hey! Get out!”

You saw him leave and he was holding something.

“Hey, (Y/N)- what are you doing?”

Todoroki watched as you searched the desk. You looked up, manic, yet playful look in your eyes.

“The stapler has been compromised.”

“Wait, what? By who?”

“Bakugo.”

Todoroki growled and sat next to you. You patted his shoulder and looked away, planning something.

“Agent (L/N), what should we do?”

You thought for a second, “Agent Todoroki, I say we spring a surprise attack on Bakugo.”

“How do we execute it so he doesn’t kill us?”

“We do this!” You pulled out a piece of graph paper from your binder, and you began drawing on it. “We fill a donut with mayo-”

“Why?”

“Wait. We fill it with mayo, give it to Kirishima to give it to Bakugo, and when he eats it, we see the look of horror on his face.”

Todoroki thought about this for a while before a smile came to his face.

“Yes, that’s evil and we won’t get killed immediately. Let’s do it.”

You had executed your plan quickly and easily, and you two were snickering in your room when you heard Bakugo’s shouts, Kirishima’s apologies, some explosions, and then a lengthy lecture from Iida. When you were sure they were gone, you fell on the floor, laughing and shaking.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Todoroki chuckled.

“Hahaha! Yeah, ‘m fine. You?”

“I’m doing perfectly. That was an amazing prank. I love you so much (Y/N).”

“I love you too Todoroki... but if we wanna pass this test, we should probably study.”

“Good idea. I’ll get the stapler from his room, and you can set the notes out.”

“Good idea.”

[bullshittierlists]

Spoiler Warning!!! - This review will contain spoilers for all of SDR2 and the first chapter of DRV3 as well as slight spoilers for DR1. You’ve been warned.

I see no god up here other than me

Gundham Tanaka- His name is GUNDHam TaNAKA

Sonia Nevermind- This is my third time typing this rant. I literally don’t know why people hate her so much?? There are two main arguments that I’ve come across. The first is that she is boring and shouldn’t have survived, but that’s the same as Asahina and everyone seems to love her. (Don’t get me wrong, I also love her, but all she had were donuts and her relationship with Sakura) She’s just a cute girl with some occult-ish quirks and I don’t see why that has to be such a bad thing. The other, more prevalent, argument is that since she’s at the center of the infamous love triangle, she must be the root of all its problems. It’s really frustrating when people blame her for Kazuichi’s faults. I’ll talk more about Kazuichi later, but his terrible qualities are a result of his own actions, and Sonia shouldn’t be blamed for being the object of his affections. It’s honestly blaming the victim and I’m sick of it. Obviously, she hasn’t treated him perfectly and I understand why people are frustrated with it. The only example of this, though, is in chapter four when she goes back-and-forth between treating him coldly and praising him when she should’ve just rejected him a long time ago. However, I think I can understand where she’s coming from in this chapter. I think it was kind of a Shuichi/Kaede situation. She had already figured out that Gundham was the killer, but didn’t want to admit it to herself, and definitely didn’t want to tell everyone else even though he was more than ready to admit it. Therefore, she treated Kazuichi coldly whenever he was getting close to the truth (or treating her poorly) and praised him whenever he was leading the group in the wrong direction. I don’t have any evidence that these were the times she treated him this way, but that’s how I remember it. Anyway, Kazuichi should stop being a creep, and apologists should stop rationalizing it. Her one slip-up in this case when she was panicked and worried for her closest friend does not make up for all of the other times Kazuichi treated her terribly.

You’re the best

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu- Boss baby boss baby boss baby. Also, he’s a fantastically fleshed out character and his relationship with Peko makes me cry literally every time :)  I just wish his character development had been a bit more stretched out, instead of on-the-spot like it was. I also kinda wish his sudden development had been a result of the despair disease, but you can’t have everything.

Nagito Komaeda- Recently, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how SimpleFlips calls softlocking in SM64 “gay baby jail” and Komaeda makes me think of that.

Chiaki Nanami- I’m not quite as attached to her as everyone else seems to be, but I totally see the appeal. Cute girl, cute backpack, and plot-relevant??? Incredible.

Ibuki Mioda- She’s just so fun. I don’t typically like characters who are loud for the sake of being loud, but I can’t help but love her. This was the first game I fully voice-acted for fun (the girls, at least) and Ibuki was definitely one of my favorites. It just feels good to yell sometimes, you know?

Hey, I think you’re pretty cool, I like you a lot

Peko Pekoyama- I’m a simple woman. I think of chapter two, I cry. At least, the epilogue of that case. I wasn’t the biggest fan of Twilight Syndrome Murder Case and I definitely didn’t like the, albeit fake, serial killer twist. It didn’t feel natural and just felt bad. Loved hearing Sonia say “Sparkling Justice!”, though.

Hiyoko Saionji- I totally understand why people hate her. I get it, I do. But I just can’t bring myself to hate her. She’s obviously not a good person, but I have shit taste. Byakuya and Kokichi aren’t good people, but everyone loves them anyway. I just think she’s so funny and terrible, I can’t help but get attached. I’m not usually the type to like little sister characters, or even bullies, but she’s just such a perfect combination of the two that I can’t help but love her. I also obviously am not the biggest fan of Mikan (I’ll explain, I swear) so the bullying didn’t really affect me too much.

Hajime Hinata- He’s the protagonist. I don’t really know what to tell you. I used to believe in Hajime supremacy, but I’m starting to understand the Shuichi supremacy now, so idk, Hajime might end up lower after I finish V3.

Byakuya Togami/Ultimate Imposter- He’s just such a good guy. I know that the real Byakuya is an ass, but the imposter is so nice and supportive. I can’t even take him seriously as Byakuya anymore because of how supportive he is. The real Byakuya could never. I just finished his last free-time event and he really feels like his own person now, which I can imagine is all he’s ever wanted. He isn’t Byakuya to me anymore, he’s himself. I just don’t have a unique name to call him by.

I remember you

Mahiru Koizumi- Her photography thing was cute, I liked it a lot. I don’t know the basic stance people take on her crush on Hajime, but I thought it was really cute and believable. I don’t know if I ship it, but I can see it in canon. It makes sense and works well.

Akane Owari- She’s a jock. I feel pretty neutral about jocks unless they have another prevalent thing that fits my interests.

Nekomaru Nidai- Again, a jock. I’m just not the biggest fan. I know that his backstory makes up for a lot of his inherent jock boringness, but I just can’t get into him as much as some other people can. I definitely see the appeal, though.

Usami/Monomi- She’s a mascot. Cool. Honestly preferred Monophanie.

You are literally the worst. Actual scum. Leave this planet and never return

Mikan Tsumiki- I told you I’d explain. First, I need to explain some personal reasons I didn’t like her, rather than objective characteristics. Like I mentioned with Ibuki, I voice-acted the whole game with each of the girls. Never before has a voice physically affected me as much as Mikan’s. In order to make her voice so high and quiet, I have to close my throat and tighten my jaw. It makes my throat, jaw, and head hurt all at the same time and it feels awful. The only time this wasn’t the case was during her breakdown and that’s because I couldn’t make her say those things with that voice, it didn’t make sense. Which brings me to my next point: her breakdown. I didn’t like it. At all. It wasn’t interesting and it didn’t make sense. I know that everyone else was sad because she was bullied a bunch and began to romanticize it, and yeah, I feel bad, but it wasn’t enough to make me like her. Her breakdown made a little more sense after watching the anime, believe it or not, but it was still not great. She could’ve been easily redeemed for me if she had a different motive for killing Hiyoko. I don’t really have an opinion on whether or not Ibuki should’ve lived longer, or even survived, but I definitely agree with Hiyoko dying during the third case, I just wish the motive had been different. It would’ve been so powerful if Mikan’s despair disease had made her remember her past with the bullying, and then she realized how much she hated it. She started to notice how Hiyoko was treating her and finally snaps. She kills Hiyoko in cold blood on purpose, instead of on accident, and covers it up in a more reasonable way instead the literal impossibility that we actually got. Then, in her breakdown, instead of pleading for forgiveness, she tries to rationalize her actions and convince everyone else that she was in the right by killing her. It would’ve been much more interesting and would’ve made much more sense. I also wish she had made use of Ibuki’s despair disease (which made her gullible) and commanded her to hang herself instead of staging the other thing, because it was a lot of extra work that was really unnecessary and it would’ve made more use of the despair disease other than a plot contrivance for Junko’s entrance. This kind of turned into my review for the third chapter, but still. Killers are always more fleshed out in their respective chapters, so their existence is often pretty much tied to the events of that chapter, since everything typically revolves around them. I might as well add here that her execution was really basic and underwhelming, but as far as I’ve seen, I’m not alone in that opinion.

Monokuma- It’s kind of an ironic hate with Monokuma. Sure, he makes me laugh, but he’s also fuel for the killing game, so... I don’t know. He pisses me off sometimes, but he’s also pretty funny at other times.

Kazuichi Souda- This is basically a continuation of the Sonia rant, so here we go. I would like to preface this by saying that in the context of Kazuichi’s free-time events, he’s one of my favorite characters. However, in the main story, I placed him here. I would normally average out my opinions of his different forms, but his optional events don’t make up for his actions that are required to be experienced. While some of his quips toward Sonia made me laugh, they still made me uncomfortable to some extent. It’s honestly frustrating to see him try so hard when she obviously isn’t interested in him. Some people choose to see this as an underdog story, but I think it’s just annoying and low-key creepy. He’s constantly fetishizing Sonia and keeps making moves on her even after she treats him coldly. He isn’t brave or cool for doing this, like the media would like you to believe, he’s creepy and persistent, and not in a good way. While I do agree that Sonia should’ve just turned him down from the very beginning, I still don’t put all of that blame on her. I’m sure she’s had her fair share of creepy guys making advances on her and she’s just had to take it, since she’s a princess and it would hurt her noble reputation. Kazuichi should also be able to think for himself and see that she’s not interested. It shouldn’t be completely up to her to get him to stop. He should be able to take a hint and back off, whether she tells him directly or otherwise. She definitely hints to him that she’s not interested in some of the later chapters, but he completely ignores it and keeps trying anyway. I wouldn’t have such a problem with him if he didn’t represent a very real issue that we are facing in the world today. Nice guys will, unfortunately, always be plaguing our society and it doesn’t look like they’re getting any better. It doesn’t help that the media continually raises them up and convinces them that they are in the right, even though they definitely aren’t. No man is entitled to any woman and people need to stop sympathizing with men who are rejected and keep pushing. In almost every post I’ve seen from Kazuichi apologists, they explain that Sonia should’ve given him a chance. Really? She did give him a chance. She gave him several chances, in fact, more than she was entitled to. The first time she acted coldly towards him was at the end of chapter 4. That’s four entire chapters, plus a prologue, of chances that she gave him. She was always polite and talked to him when he approached her. Maybe she saw this as her noble duty, but either way, she didn’t reject him outright the first time she saw him. She tried to be friends, he was creepy, and then she started to hint that she wasn’t interested. This is a natural progression for her character and is in no way wrong of her. He is not entitled to her attention and should learn to back off when he’s not wanted. The other big reason I see that people don’t like Sonia is because she basically ruined any chance of Kazuichi and Gundham having any sort of relationship other than rivals. Again, it’s not Sonia’s fault that they both liked her. It’s also not her fault for choosing Gundham over Kazuichi, since he treated her respectfully and they also shared interests. She also didn’t need a specific reason to choose Gundham over Kazuichi, because she is free to make her own choices based on anything she wants, including nothing. Even though I said all of this, I do actually wish that Gundham and Kazuichi could’ve had some kind of relationship. I think it could’ve been very interesting, but it didn’t need to be devoid of Sonia. I think it would’ve been just as interesting for Gundham and Kazuichi to talk with Sonia as it would’ve been for her to introduce them to each other more formally and get them to become friends. I think it could’ve been fun for Kazuichi to have a little playful resentment towards Gundham for getting the girl, but instead, he went completely off the deep end. If he had just backed off like I suggested earlier, maybe they could’ve had that relationship that everyone longed for. I am also obligated to say here that I think all of his free-time events were absolutely adorable and the fact that he gets motion sickness is the single best piece of comedy every written.

Teruteru Hanamura- I’ve been doing a lot of rants and I’m kind of tired of it. You know why I don’t like him, I don’t need to explain it. He’s shitty, blah blah blah. His tiny bit of plot with his mother didn’t really do anything to redeem him for me and I just plain don’t like him. Sorry, not sorry.

Wow, this took way too long. I forgot I had so many opinions on these characters. I would’ve said a lot more about Gundham, but it’s kind of my thing here to say more about my second favorite characters and characters that I don’t like than my favorite characters, and I knew there were going to be several rants, so I decided to keep his very short. My definitive favorites list is Gundham and then Sonia, with a pending Fuyuhiko in third. The four dark devas are the best characters and I’m so upset they weren’t on here. I would apologize for my Kazuichi rant, since it had two parts, both of which were very long, but it all needed to be said because I’m sick and tired of Kazuichi apologists. They keep coming across my dash and I would like to be rid of them. If you like Kazuichi, that’s fine, I actually quite like him, too, you just need to acknowledge his faults instead of just rationalizing them in a bad way. If someone wants to send me reasons why Sonia is terrible, I’ll listen, because I’m sure I’m probably being a bit of a Sonia apologist, although I feel like her actions were a lot less impactful. Sondam supremacy, thank you, goodnight.

[theangrycomet]

OK KO Head Cannon: Carol Kincaid’s Parents

Already, Cartoon Network’s Greatest of Mom of all time. 

Behold in all her glory Carol! Kincaid

Now while I could gone for days about every reason why she is an Amazing Mother and general human being, that’s not what I’ve come to talk about. 

That’s a different post.

I was kind of hoping to see KO’s grandparents at some point, maybe a picture or something to give some kind of indication as to what they were like, what ever that maybe. But seeing as that was not the case, that leaves me up to spectulation. 

The great think about Ok OK is the varied Character design. Even Relatives, while sharing characteristics, each have their own look to them. 

However, none of them remotely look like Carol or KO. 

But there were two character’s from my childhood nostalgia who did. 

Is it just me, or does Silver Spark share an uncanny resemblance to our favorite Goddess of Chaos and Asgardian Angel of Rock?

(I know she’s tanner, Valhallen’s a little lightened in the official photo. Watching Dexter’s lab, his skin was darker) 

Additionally, look at Carol’s powers. 

Maternal Side: Imitation

Her most notable ability is that of Mimicry. Any move you hit her with she can throw it right back at at you. It is implied that she learned to use other’s powers through instensive study of hero practices. 

As Goddess of Chaos, Eris can manipulate the world around her using her Apple of Discord. I suggest that Carol inherited a similar, but severely limited ability with her mimicry. Because of the chaotic base of her powers, she has to understand perfectly how to execute a move, else it’s highly likely to back fire. 

Paternal Side: Speed and Sonic Shouts

I’m not going to go into the science on how the power axe works as genetic enhancer for Valhallen; all I know that so long as he doesn’t stay away from it for too long, he keeps his powers and his body stays that way it is. 

She inherited not only his great hair, but his speed and strong/sweet voice too.They also share a wise, mellow attitude, and will guide others through problems without hand feeding them the solution. 

Plus her name is CAROL for crying out loud. 

Brief History:

I’m going to go with that Carol was the result of a one night fling sort of thing, and Eris dumped her with Val. She’s more like that Vodka Aunt that will teach you how to raze the system for all it’s worth and help you get revenge on ex-boyfriends/girlfriends.

Val Hallen, now having full custody of this infant, goes and does the best he can. Which isn’t half bad if he must say so himself. 

When she wanted to be a super hero like her daddy, he helped her train after school. 

They studied the techniques of all the greats, and figured out how her powers expressed themselves aside from speed.

Both he and Eris were proud when she graduated and made it into P.O.I.N.T. (the goddess knew that heroes always bring the most juicy chaos with them)

ValHallen returned to work with the Justice Friends and gave Carol Silver Spark the room to learn and grow as a hero as well as a person. 

Eris could sense the chaos brimming from the donut shop, she just didn’t find out why for many years later. 

Character Designs: 

TKO’s visual aspects are a bit more explained

 When powered up, both ValHallen and TKO’s hair lengthen’s, increases in volume, and gets wavy. Stud’s grace their wrists, and additionally in Val Hallen’s place, along his belt.

In Summary:

So why do I say all this? Mostly because this means when KO went to go visit his Grandma in Ok Dendy! Let’s be KO!, he was visiting Eris and probably causing inadvertent chaos with various shenanigans.

And I would like to think ValHallen would visit every couple of months to check on his baby girl as well as grandson. Give Carol a break from the insanity. He was not expecting KO’s edgy phase to hit so early however. 

Professor Venomous might want to watch out once those to find out the Laserblast isn’t dead.

[mythgirlimagines]

ANON-CORRECT QUOTES

———————————–

Fusion: (distressed, holding an empty donut box in front of him) AAAAAHHHHH! SOMEBODY ATE MY DONUTS!

Myth: Well, well, well…looks like we have a real who-donut on our hands!

Fusion II: (pulls out a taser from the book she’s reading and wordlessly tasers Myth)

Myth: (disoriented from the shock) Worth it!

Myth: (collapses)

Source: Animaniacs

Video Source: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hqx7SjIdoO4)

———————————–

Curious: (holding a pile of papers) My apologies, Wyre. The printer messed up the invitations. They were supposed to say “Myth’s Birthday”.

Wyre: Well, what do they say now?

Curious: “Myth’s Bi”

Wyre: Hey! Still works!

Source: Unknown

———————————-

(Bedtime in the Kibo-Con…)

Iris: (in bed) Hey, Ritchie. May I put my glow-in-the-dark sticky stars on the ceiling? They help me sleep!

Eldritch: (panicking) A-A-And provide the m-monsters with a b-b-beacon to your location?! Use your head, I-

Janon: (punches Eldritch in the head, knocking him out) Of course you can, Riri. Good night.

Source: Twitter

———————————-

(Context: The Kibo-Con teenagers are going to a paintball battlefield, while the adults are off doing their business. Scar and Dream are taking this a bit too seriously…)

Scar: (in her chuuni act) We’re surrounded! We’ll need a diversion! Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making annoying noises?

Dream: (posing like a shonen protagonist) My time has come!

Source: Gravity Falls

———————————-

(Context: Nerd is currently on a date with Myth, and the other adults had the bright idea to third-wheel the date…)

Nerd: (scolding Sparkle and Wyre) Please don’t f**k this up by being weird!

Freak Twins: (walking in carrying a wedding cake)

Egg: (wearing a fish costume) I can’t believe they were just gonna throw this out.

WetSock: (wearing a sombrero) Not on my watch!

Source: Be Cool, Scooby Doo!

————————————

Purple: Contrary to rampant misconception, scrutinizing the errant comma in “My dearest, Angelica,” isn’t indecorous. But, Hamilton did pretermit an “n” in “Pennsylvania” when enscribing the Constitution. So, enscribing with haste would incite corrigendums in the written word.

Sparkle: (understanding what Purple said perfectly) OH, SNAP!

Source: Tumblr

————————————-

(In the Mastermind’s lair…)

MM!Fancy: (venting to the traitors) I don’t believe this wench! I throw everything I’ve got at her and it doesn’t even-

MM!Fancy: (hears a squeaking noise, to Zero) What…..are……THOSE?~★

Traitor!Zero: (wearing Myth-branded sandals) I dunno! I just thought they looked kinda….DASHING!

MM!Fancy: (steaming with rage, brandishing a spear) I’ve got one prologue, 5 chapters, and one epilogue to get rid of this PLAYGIRL, or the entire despair-spreading scheme I have been planning ever since I’ve turned to the dark side goes up in smoke, and you are WEARING! HER! MERCHANDISE?!~★

Traitor!One: (loudly drinking from a Myth-themed soda can) Uh….thirsty?

MM!Fancy: (executes both of the traitors, while screaming in rage)

Source: Hercules

Video Source: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbBaOPq36l8)

————————————-

It’s Saturday, kiddos! And you know what that means? That’s right! I’ve got a whole new batch of “Papa Fusion’s Anon-Correct Quotes” (2021 Edition)! Let me know what you think of them!

-Fusion Anon

---

That pun is definitely worth it XD also the last one made me actually laugh out loud lol

[addictedtooverwatch]

Overwatch Events: 2021 Anniversary Skin Rankings.

We got 8 new skins with the 2021 Anniversary Event(3 Epics, 5 Legendaries), and I will rank them! I will be ranking them in their category of Epic or Legendary, but I do think that all of them are cool. From top to bottom, I will go from my favorite to least favorite.

Epic Weekly Challenge Skins

Wrecking Ball - 8 Ball(Week 3): I love it so much! I think that it is such a good idea and that it was executed perfectly. I love how he has a little tuxedo and I love the wood grain and black plastic texture. I think that this could have been a legendary skin, I know that I would have bought it.

Echo - Bird of Paradise(Week 2): I think that it is super pretty and works really well with Echo's character. I love how colorful it is, but I wish that they incorporated a little more blue into the skin. I love the flower designs on her legs, chest, and arms.

Ana - Cybernetic(Week 1): I like this skin, no as much as the other skins. The color palette reminds me of Sombra's classic skin. I think the moving pixels inside her cape look awesome. The color palette and how they executed it were well done, but the visor is weird. I wish they just gave her a mask, like her Shrike skin.

Legendary Loot Box Skins

Sombra - Black Cat: She's a catgirl... that's it... that's my reason. But seriously, it's super cute! I love the fact that she has toe beans and cat ears. Fun Fact, the first gold gun I got was Sombra's and I think that it looks really good with the skin.

Junkrat - Junkfood: Yet another extremely colorful skin! It's so great! I think that this is the most detailed skin out of all of these ones. Some of my favorite details are the candy cane peg leg, moving cherry on his left boot, and the donut on his concussion mine.

Baptiste - Funky: I think that this skin looks great. I love how his gun has a texture that reminds me of 1970s cars and that he was a lava lamp in his backpack. I also think that his belt is cool, but I just don't think it is better than Junkfood or Black Cat.

Moira - Venus: I think that it is a cool skin with a good concept and pretty good execution with a lot of detail. With that said, similarly to the Baptiste skin, I just don't think it looks as good as the other skins.

Doomfist - Gladiator: I don't like it that much. I don't know whatever he is wearing on his face, I think it would look better if we could see his face. I just don't like it; Formal is a better skin by a lot.

Anyways, I hope you all are enjoying the event so far, I certainly am. I actually just won enough games to get the Ana skin! I will be posting on my side blog about my favorite book series soon, then about my one series in particular.

[ourimpavidheroine]

I’ve gotta say, I’m really enjoying these stories. Also, your late father sounds like an amazing man. I can really see the inspiration for LoLo come out in your mentions of him.

When my mother got pregnant with me - a planned pregnancy, they were young when they married but I was born 16 months later - my father knew from the get-go that he wanted a girl.

This was (and, I am sad to say, still is) an unusual thing for a father to wish for. Most fathers wish for a son. My Dad, however, was raised by a drunken, abusive, narcissistic man and he was afraid that if he had a son he’d just turn into his father. He thought a daughter would help him break that cycle of abuse. 

When I was born he told the nurse who brought me out to him in the waiting room that I was an angel, and Angel was the nickname that he alone called me.

He and I were very, very close, something that made my mother and younger brother jealous. (I didn’t really see or understand that until after he died when I was 26.)  There was nothing whatsoever or remotely sexual about it, which is what people usually assume when a father and daughter are very close. As my girlhood best friend said to me a few months ago, my father thought the sun rose and set on me, thought that I was his fairy princess. All of my odd, Autistic/ADHD weirdness was something he loved. I always knew he loved me not just despite my weirdness but because of it. (Something that my late wife did as well.)

My father was a brilliant man. He graduated high school at 15 and went into university to study architecture. Academically he handled it, but he was way too young to handle the social aspects as well as the responsibility of it and so he dropped out a year later. Things were apparently hellish with my grandfather and my Dad enlisted in the Army on his 18th birthday. This was 1965 and the US started sending soldiers to Vietnam. Not my Dad, though. He took some tests the military gave him and after boot camp spent his entire three years on a Nike missle base in the middle of Milwaukee, working on one of those huge old mainframe computers (you know, the kind with punch cards). I’m guessing they didn’t send the really smart ones off to be killed.

He taught himself how to be an architect through reading books at the library, including textbooks that he would sit and read at UC Berkeley’s library, even though he wasn’t a student there any longer. Then, after he had learned that, he read through engineering and physics textbooks. Then he read through every single book he could find that taught him how to actually build the structures he had learned to draw. He was completely self-taught, and the man not only designed and built complicated, Broadway-worthy theater sets he also designed and built houses from the ground up. He wanted to build a rock retaining wall at our house (which was located at the base of a hill and was on an incline) and so he went to the library and got a book about how Romans built walls and spent three years going to the local river to source variously-sized river rocks to build that retaining wall, which he did completely without any kind of mortar, just balancing the rocks perfectly. It’s still standing, 40 years later.

He always worked at very menial jobs - he was a line cook, a stocker in a supermarket produce department, an RV park manager, etc. He was terrible with money, didn’t understand it at all. We lived right on top of the poverty line. He had zero executive functioning and that caused a lot of problems for all of us and meant a lot of broken promises, too.

I am completely sure that like me, like both of his grandchildren, he had Autism and ADHD. Not diagnosed of course, they weren’t in those days, But he had them nevertheless.

He was a voracious reader and introduced me to sci fi and fantasy. On my eighth birthday he gave me his copies of The Lord of the Rings and had me read them. (This was 1977, trust me when I tell you those books were not a household name at that point.)  He’d wake me up at 3:30 am and we’d go fishing together, him with a thermos of black coffee, me with a bottle of orange juice and a box of Entenmann’s mixed donuts and we’d sit there in happy silence together, fishing and enjoying each other’s company. He was a wonderful storyteller and only once did he get angry with me. He never laid a hand on me or my brother but the one time he got angry with me he slapped me across the face and then the both of us cried.

He taught me many useful skills, like how to jimmy locks and how to walk through people unseen and how to learn on my own how to do things and how to make the world’s best pie. He always told me that I could absolutely anything I put my mind to. When I asked him once if that meant I could be a father - I was joking - he looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I actually wanted to be a father. When I told him no he responded that he had said if I had put my mind to it, and he wasn’t vouching for anything I pulled when I didn’t care.

He also told me that I was the strongest person he’d ever met and when I scoffed at that he shook his head and said, “Angel, most people see you and they have no idea at all what’s inside of you and what you are capable of. There is nothing in this life you won’t overcome. Someday, when we’re both dead, you come find me and tell me I’m wrong.” (So far, he has not been wrong.)

He was a functioning drunk; he only drank after 8 at night, however. Just enough to make sure he’d not be hungover in the morning. He was a night person and all his life only needed about 4 hours of sleep to be completely rested.

He loved movies but he hated to go alone and usually took me. Not all of these movies were appropriate for kids my age but there it was. When I was eleven he took me with him to see The Elephant Man and I broke down completely, devastated and sobbing, horrified at how cruel people were to the lead character, just because he was different. After the movie we sat in the car and he held me until I was done crying and when I was all done he told me to never forget how the movie had made me feel and to remember that no matter how different people were from me they were all human and deserved kindness, compassion and understanding. This was a lesson I have tried very hard to live throughout my life. He took people at face value, and that included everyone. I don’t think he was particularly woke based on 2021 sentiments but he tried very hard to treat people equally and that included queer people during the AIDS crisis, too.

He was a feminist and believed women should be equal to men. He walked the walk, too: he cooked, he cleaned, he changed diapers, etc. And by that I mean he did them as par for the course, as part of his daily life. He did not rely on my mother’s emotional labor to remind him to do shit. He just did it because things needed doing and he was a grownass man, not a man-child. He did not consider caring for his children as babysitting, either.

He liked to sing. My mother and brother have opera-quality singing voices - for real, both of them are quite gifted - but his wasn’t like that, it was just a perfectly ordinary, passable baritone, just like mine is a perfectly ordinary, passable alto. He sang and he whistled when he was happy and I do the same. He used to make up funny little songs and rhymes on the spot, he had a gift for improvisation that way. I wish I had inherited that but alas! No.

Even when he was a boy all of the neighborhood kids would come to him with broken toys to be fixed. He quite genuinely liked kids and even teenagers and spent a lot of time working with the local high school drama department, building the sets, working as the stage manager and setting up and working the lights and soundboard (he taught himself to do that as well) and even directing some of the plays when the drama teacher was out on maternity leave. To this day I still get contacted by people who were in school with me or my brother who tell me what an influence my father was on them, the special things he did for them to make sure they knew he was paying attention and cared. One guy a couple of years ago contacted me on Facebook and told me that he got into some trouble after high school, even got imprisoned for a few months. My father visited him in prison and afterwards took him to AA with him, became his sponsor, helped keep on the straight and narrow. He named his oldest son after my father, in fact. I hear a lot of those stories.

He loved books and he loved music and he taught me to love those things as well. He fell in love with my mother when he was seventeen and married her five years later and came to regret it - like his father, his wife was an abusive, narcissistic person. He stayed with her, though, until my second year of university, when he abruptly walked out on her, went to AA and quit drinking. I asked him about it later; he told me that he had wanted to leave her for years but knew that if he did he’d never see me or my younger brother again. The courts in those days automatically gave kids to the mother and my mother was an accomplished liar and would have told the courts anything and they would have believed her. Once I was out of the house and secure, then he was done. (The fact that my brother was only fifteen and left to fend for himself with my mother was...not good. Not good at all. My father was not perfect and he was not a saint and that was a mistake that still has repercussions today.) He did not do enough to protect me from my mother while I was growing up, however. He regretted it, he told me later. I understand now that he was constantly walking a knife’s edge, trying to keep her satisfied enough so she wouldn’t try to take me away from him, but it took therapy long after he died for me to really understand that.

His special interest was model railroading and he built these amazing, intricate landscapes, all by hand and by scratch. The man took latex molds off the sides of rocks to build mountains with and built buildings out of tiny pieces of wood and such. I spent many hours with him as he built, listening to music and reading or just laying there, thinking my thinks, or sometimes chattering nonstop to him.

He called me, every single Friday night, right after the X-Files ended, right after the child’s voice said “I made this.” My phone would ring and we’d chat for hours, talking about the show (we both loved it) and whatever else. He lived about 5 hours away from me at the time and we did talk at other times during the week but that was our standard date. He died in the middle of Season 2 and to this very goddamn fucking day whenever I hear that “I made this” I wait for my phone to ring. And I cry every single time because he will never call me again.

I absolutely think that meeting my late wife via the X-Files was my father, watching out for me. When my twins were newborn and pretty much all I did 24x7 was breastfeed them I re-watched the entirety of X-Files on the DVDs I had and I’d talk to my father in my head, telling him about his grandchildren.

He’d always buy the new Stephen King books in hardcover and read them and then give them to me to keep. He especially loved the Dark Tower series but I haven’t finished the ones that were published after he died. I bought them myself but they are still sitting on my bookshelf, unread. I just can’t.

He died in the hospital after being in a coma for a week. The ICU nurses were very kind and showed me how I could turn off the life support machine if I wanted to and told me that I could be in there with him as long as I needed. They very considerately closed all of the curtains and closed the door to the room. I was alone with him in there and I turned off the machine and I held his hand and I sang to him as he died. I didn’t want him to be alone. 

He was right. I was strong enough to do that. It hurt, though. It still hurts.

He’s buried in California with a free military headstone because my comfortably upper middle class grandfather refused to shell out for a headstone and I was flat broke. Many years later I had a regular stone engraved with the words, “Go then, there are other worlds than these” and I placed it at our summer cottage here in Finland for him. I like to think that he and my late wife are keeping company. They never met here, but they would have liked each other very much, that I do know.

[obutsuwrites]

confectionery kisses (fat gum x reader)

summary: “I know you’re enjoyin’ me, but -- uh -- can I kiss ya?” The alcohol hit him fully now; the hero too enumerated to be bashful. Steamie looked up and was greeted by lemon color eyes that held utter kindness. xxx lord forgive me bc this is so wholesome it killed me!!! but basically, bakery!au ft. meet-cute w/ drunken kissing shenanigans~! (well it's 1 kiss ok but it is what it is) 

author note: i’m considering a part 2 that picks up where this leaves off, but w smut. if that’s sumthin anyone would b interested in, pls lmk~!

reader is nonbinary/afab!

word count: 2,130

my ao3 for more shitposts~!

my ko-fi~!

my inbox is open 4 requests :3c

Focused, flour caked hands kneaded the dough before them. The young baker too engrossed by the magic of dough to notice a soft chime sound through the shop. Customers weren’t uncommon for them. Steamie’s Bakery was a word-of-mouth local treasure. A bewitching pastry shop that had the best donuts, honest. Steamie -- as they prefer -- adored their neighbors praises. Steady streams of patrons in a ‘hot spot’ for criminal activity wasn’t exactly the best business decision. However, this run-down homestyle bakery -- and it’s holes -- were theirs. 

Steamie hummed as they worked. Their mind was stuck within sugary confectionery. 

“Hey… y’all open?” This man’s voice was gruff and carefree. A smile wrapped in his syllables. 

Fat Gum stood within the tiny bakery. His form dwarfed the modest space; the edge of his hood scrapped against the ceiling as he waited for a response. The BMI Hero was surprised his lumbering footsteps hadn’t alerted the owner. Was it possible he had misread the sign? Work had drained him recently. Fat Gum had practically dragged himself to Steamie’s Bakery. Locals babbled constantly about the place, and he desired a quiet bite after hours. The quant business was one of the only eateries open at such an hour. 

The abrupt sound whipped the enamored baker from their task. Warm eyes glanced up, irises bright and alive despite the time. “Hi. Yes! Yes, we are. I’m Steamie.” Their eyes met the giant man who stood awkwardly in front of a display. He looked so out of place, the man’s body bulbous and impossibly large. Steamie guessed by the man’s rather campy mask that he was an off-duty hero. A species of hero not seen often around their street. The area deemed too dangerous for such leisurely activity. 

Truth be told, Steamie didn’t care about heroes. Or villains. The tall baker instead hyper focused upon baking. A hobby that morphed into a job. However, a small voice inside Steamie wanted to impress the man. He seemed so friendly and looked so… cuddly. Like a sentient teddy bear. A man composed of pillows and kindness. 

Fat Gum furrowed his brows. The BMI Hero seemed to be in deep thought over exactly which eclair to buy. He had never seen so many flavors before. Strawberry, blueberry, cherry, watermelon. Every flavor sounded as delicious as the last. Pink tongue darted out between his lips and teeth. A sugar overload was tempting. Simple black coffee wouldn’t cure this sluggy fog. Besides, he had burned away precious fat today. It was a treat. 

“Steamie? Does your quirk help with your work?” Fat Gum asked, as he scanned the pastries. He noticed their designs now. Soft and lacy intricate artwork that intertwined on each eclair; each pattern unique and perfectly executed. Every baked good was a labor of love. 

A snort escaped Steamie; the sound high pitched and hearty. 

“I wish. No, I just emit a puff of steam. I’m basically a glorified dehumidifier.” Steamie brushed flour decorated hands against their apron. The young baker was keen to serve the hero. Hero culture wasn’t an interest of theirs, but the physical embodiment of a pillow was too enticing for the baker. They wondered what exactly their job was. ‘Due to his size… maybe rescue?’

It was now Fat Gum’s turn to laugh. Rumbly and soft. “I don’t do rescue. Say, uh, how much are these eclairs?” 

Rambling out loud was habitual for them. Their thoughts grew legs of their own and walked out into tangible space. They were immune to the embarrassment of it, instead accepting their odd trait.

Steamie slapped a dusty hand to their forehead. “I don’t have price tags..?” The sentence was in limbo between a question and an answer. They had rearranged the shop recently. Changing pastry stock required innovation. The elclairs before Fat Gum had been a stroke of late night genius. Birthed from the desire for a gooey center and intricate lace. A happy medium for the proud baker. 

The baker quickly stepped behind the counter, dust flew from their hands. Diligent hands eventually found a leftover tag and wrote down a price. Patrons caused Steamie to envelope themselves into baking. Most days, flour and powdered sugar felt impossible to wash off. Almost like a second skin; signs of their success. 

Steamie beckoned Fat Gum to the counter. The BMI Hero obliged; pep in his gait. 

“Here. Don’t go thinking you’re getting a discount!” Steamie’s laugh echoed in the bakery as they handed the hero price tags. Fat Gum could swear the baker’s body vibrated from the sound. “I’ve been busy lately. Cakes and pies don’t sell themselves.” 

The hero’s smile grew like marigolds; fast and vibrant. Steamie didn’t mind looking at this hero. His posture was proud, but hid something. A mystery Steamie couldn’t quite figure out. ‘Kinda interesting…’

“What’s  interesting?” Fat Gum asked, the giant of a man still enamored by pastries. 

“You know my quirk; what’s yours? It’s probably super interesting.” 

The hero’s face contorted into a mix of confusion and admiration. ‘Does she not know who I am?’ “My quirk is fat absorption. I don’t usually look like this!” A laugh erupted from the man. His notoriety meant everyone knew of his quirk. The banter was refreshing. Fat Gum enjoyed the naivety of the baker. 

Their conversation died down as Fat Gum perused baked goods. Steamie wandered back to their original post. They almost forgot the hero was in the shop. Heavy footsteps dissolved any fantasy of peace and quiet. Little moments of serenity were scarce, but nightfall brought the quiet Steamie craved. A meager smile etched into the corners of the baker’s mouth. They hummed as they worked; now fully absorbed in kneading dough. 

“Hey,” the hero’s gruff voice broke the silence between them, “hope it’s not too much trouble, but I’m ready to be rung up!” His words carried an airiness to them; like cotton candy. Steamie wondered if this was a natural state for Fat Gum. 

Steamie nodded, again wiping their hands on their apron. Dusty fingers worked at the register and completed the transaction between the two. 

Fat Gum stopped short of the door and turned to the baker still stationed at the counter. “What’s your name?” He asked with childish curiosity, as if Steamie’s name was a mystery. 

“Like I said, I’m Steamie,” they replied, eyeing the hero. It wasn’t uncommon for locals to ask what their real name was, but as far as Steamie cared, Steamie was their name. An abstract, genderless name that suited them. 

Fat Gum laughed, a hearty sound that echoed through the empty bakery. Steamie swore display cases shook. Almost reminiscent of thunder. “No, uh, your… Your real name, unless you prefer Steamie. It’s cute.” A tint of red dotted his cheeks, unable to hide the embarrassment that painted his face. He didn’t intend to tell the baker; the compliment had slipped past him. 

“Steamie is who I am. Is Fat Gum not who you are?” They chose to ignore the comment, it was muttered anyway, as if the hero was embarrassed. It was polite to not intimate customers. 

“Toyomitsu,” the hero said and pointed to his chest; a smile stretched across his face. 

“It was nice to meet you, Toyomitsu.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Fat Gum -- or Toyomitsu as he preferred -- was absent from the shop, until several weeks after their first meeting. 

It was closing time and Steamie was locking up. Despite their dingy location, the baker only carried two keys; one to lock up and the other to unlock their apartment. There were better things to steal than confectionery. 

“Long time no see, huh, Steamie?” 

The thunderous voice obviously belonged to Toyomitsu; unique and hearty. 

The baker flinched at the sudden noise and swiftly turned to the BMI Hero. His face was no longer taunt and long, but instead, squishy and soft. Chubby cheeks that were made for pinching and a soft, bulbous belly. The man before them sounded like Toyomitsu, but his hefty frame was the opposite of the hero Steamie met. 

“You’re… Toyomitsu, right?” Remembering names wasn’t one of Steamie’s strong suits. 

A light blush crept across Toyomitsu’s face, ending at the tips of his ears. “That’s me! Kinda surprised you remembered, it’s been awhile.” 

Steamie nodded and finished to lock the door, pocketing their key. 

“I was wondering,” Toyomitsu began, “if you wanted to get a bite. It’d be my treat!” The hero’s tone was excited, like a child asking for a sweet. ‘He’s so enduring like this… reminds me of a teddy bear.’ Steamie’s lips curled into a petite smile. A secret between friends. 

In truth, Toyomitsu wanted more than a dinner date, but any meaningful relationship is built on friendship. At least that’s the advice he offered to Red Riot. The pro hero wanted to kiss the baker and pinch their cheeks; all while cooing at them. 

“No thanks, I’m exhausted from today,” Steamie replied. They saw Toyomitsu’s wide grin falter and felt a pang in their chest. ‘His face is just too cute!’ “Actually, I don’t live far from here, and I have some left-over pastries. They don’t sell like my eclairs.” Anything Steamie baked was delicious, Toyomitsu decided. 

“Sure!” He eagerly replied. A grin encompassed his face as the couple walked towards the baker’s apartment. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The BMI hero sat across Steamie as the baker dove into another work related story. He adored the spark in their eyes, like tiny sprinkles decorating a vibrant treat. A treat he wanted to admire and cherish. Watching Steamie become animated while they talked caused Toyomitsu’s heart to quiver against his ribcage. 

Steamie -- to their credit -- truly opened up after several cups of wine; slurring and excited. Their thoughts were no longer accidental blurbs, but drunken fragments. 

“...an’ that’s why I don’ keep sugar an’ flour!” 

Toyomitsu nodded, tufts of blond feathered around his forehead. 

“Wanna touch your cheeks, can I?” The baker asked, their voice small and childlike. This was the first sentence that wasn’t a slurred mess, and yet, Toyomitsu still felt heat bloom in his cheeks. 

Gently, Toyomitsu brought their small hand -- that his own dwarfed -- against his cheek. The baker’s touch was warm, like fresh baked bread. Without realizing, the hero nuzzled into Steamie’s palm. 

‘So soft…’

“Yeah, you are.” The alcohol had made Toyomitsu brave, lion hearted and flustered. 

Pink sprinkled across Steamie’s face as they withdrew their hand and buried their face within their palms. “Sorry,” the baker slurred, “you… You look so ‘oft.” 

Toyomitsu chuckled at the mumbled apology. “S’ok, you’re cute.” 

Steamie let out a soft gasp, “Cute? Dunno ‘bout that! But I think your cheeks…” They weren’t accustomed to compliments, especially compliments from a teddy bear. ‘Wanna bury myself in his chest.’

“You can.” 

Steamie’s face was uncovered and ever red, the baker unable to justify hiding the inferno that burned into their cheeks. 

The baker devolved into a red and squealing mess; unable to form coherent sentences, like little pieces of creamy confectionery. The pro hero wondered what their plush lips felt like pressed up against his… They looked so small, so delicate. A treasure he wanted to covet. The hero’s large, calloused finger reached up and quickly swiped across the supple flesh. ‘Like a flower petal,’ Toyomitsu thought. 

The baker drifted into Toyomitsu’s lap; scorching and far too big for their frame. “Ya smell ‘ice,” Steamie mumbled and buried their face into the gigantic man’s chest. Fluffy and cozy, like a pillow. “Like a pillow!” Steamie couldn’t help the outburst. Toyomitsu wasn’t a man, but a plushie they wanted to bury themselves in. He was velvety and felt like home. The baker inhaled his scent, trying to memorize the floral notes of his laundry soap. Vanilla and honeysuckle. 

Toyomitsu petted their hair, running his fingers through long strands. Even their hair was soft. Steamie was a squishy marshmallow he wanted to keep. He wrapped an arm around their small body, hyper aware of their delicate structure. Warm hands began to rub Steamie’s back as they nuzzled against Toyomitsu’s sweatshirt. ‘Feels like a hug.’

“I know you’re enjoyin’ me, but -- uh -- can I kiss ya?” The alcohol hit him fully now; the hero too enumerated to be bashful. Steamie looked up and was greeted by lemon color eyes that held utter kindness. 

Their tongue refused to cooperate, the baker only able to produce a curt nod. Their face was a blazing wildfire, a vibrant array of pinks and rogues. 

Slowly, Toyomitsu pressed his chapped lips against the baker’s mouth. The kiss was slow and sloppy, neither party capable of coordinated motion. Toyomitsu brushed his tongue along their lips and tasted sugar. His mind was clouded with lewd thoughts of the baker as he finally broke the kiss; greedy lungs heaving -- desperate for air. 

“Ya taste good, wonder what this tastes like,” the pro hero pondered. His hand gently palming between their thighs.

[krizaland]

An idea i've had in my head for awhile now, what if when Zim first got to Earth, his s/o was the first one to introduce him to chocolate, if there wasn't anything like it in space?

Ooh! What an interesting idea! I actually headcannon that only the Tallest can have the really yummy snacks (i.e Chocolate, donuts, cake, cookies, name brand snacks, ect.) While everyone else gets stale chips and off brand snacks.

I also headcannon that Earth junk food is actually really good for Zim. Like it’s better for him than actual Irken food.

Ok so this fic takes place before Zim and Reader became a couple So it’s basically Zim finally being able to describe how he feels about reader.

Also this request reminded me of CHOCOLAT by Teddyloid. So I hope you don’t mind me including it.

“Come on! Come on! Where is it?! WHERE?!” Zim whined as he frantically ran around the park.

Ever since GIR had let Zim’s robot bee loose, Zim had been searching every nook and cranny for it.

Zim was on the verge of a breakdown when

“Hey, Zim. Looking for something?”

“LEAVE ME BE- Oh it’s just you” Zim blurted out as he put a hand on his chest.

“Yeah…Are doing ok?”

“Zim is fine! I’m just looking for my robot- I mean perfectly normal toy bee! Now leave me!” Zim stuttered as his PAK sparked a bit.

“Oh, well do you need any help-”

“Nonsense! Zim needs help from no one! Just go on and do your…Y/N things you do here” Zim interjected as he tried to shoo you away.

“Alright suit yourself.” You muttered as you went over to a nearby bench and sat down.

Zim tried to resume his search but kept getting distracted by you. Every so often he would peek over his shoulder and watch you type away at your phone.

Eventually, Zim couldn’t take it anymore! He decided his robot-bee could wait, right now he needed to be with you. Even if it was only for a moment.

He sighed as he plopped down next to you.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” You asked as you put your phone away.

“Eh? Um, Yes! I uh, sure did.” Zim lied as his PAK sparked a bit.

“Okay then, I guess..” You giggled as you pulled out a bar of chocolate from your jacket pocket.

Zim let out a gasp as his eyes widened in shock.

“How did you get that?!”

“Get what?”

“That! How did you get that rare delicacy?! Tell me!” Zim demanded as he gestured to your chocolate bar.

“Oh, you mean my chocolate bar? I just bought it at the chocolate store across the street” You mused nonchalantly.

“EH?! YOU INFILTRATED YOUR PLANET’S CHOCOLATE RESERVES AND SURVIVED?!” Zim yelped as he grabbed the sides of his head.

“Chocolate reserves? What? No! It’s just a store that sells chocolate-”

“FOOL! Chocolate is only reserved for the elite! Now! Tell me! Tell me how you managed to secure such a rare delicacy…” Zim’s voice quivered as he curled his fingers infant of his face.

“What the-? Chocolate is for everybody not just the elite! What kind of place only lets the elite eat chocolate- Oh wait! Sorry! I forgot you’re from another country! Do they really not let people eat chocolate where you’re from?” You asked as you gave Zim a sympathetic look.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Chocolate is one of the rarest snack foods in the galaxy! Only the elite are worthy of such confectionaries!” Zim announced dramatically as he pointed to the sky.

“What? Chocolate isn’t rare at all! I mean ok there are some brands that are a bit fancier than others but almost all chocolate is available for everyone to enjoy. Not just the elite.” You explained as you started to unwrap your chocolate bar.

Zim was about to respond but was distracted by you opening the chocolate bar.

“You’re opening that chocolate in plain sight?! ARE YOU INSANE?! PUT THAT DELICACY AWAY! QUICKLY! BEFORE YOU’RE NOTICED!” Zim screeched as he reached for your chocolate bar.

“Zim! Calm down! Look, I know chocolate is rare where you’re from but things are different here. Nobody’s gonna arrest me eating chocolate.” You explained as you kept the chocolate bar out of Zim’s reach.

“But you could be executed! Or left on planet..SLUDGE!” Zim shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut.

“What? No! Zim nothing bad is gonna happen to me for eating chocolate in public. I’ll prove it, see?”

Zim tried to stop you but it was too late.

You broke off a piece of your chocolate bar and popped it into your mouth.

“See? Nothing happened!” You reassured as you chewed.

Zim blinked in shock for a moment as he looked at somewhat-eaten chocolate bar before looking back at you.

“Mmm! So good! You have to try it!” You insisted as you broke off another piece and handed it to him.

As nervous as he was, Zim had always wanted to know what chocolate tasted like.

He remembered how the Tallest would always brag about how yummy it was and mock everyone else for not having some.

Zim looked around the park for a moment. No one seemed to even notice you munching on your chocolate.

Zim let out a sigh. While he would never admit it, he did trust you. You were always there for him when he needed you and you always protected him from Dib.

Zim figured you wouldn’t try to get him in trouble. Thus, he decided to give into temptation.

Taking a deep breath, Zim cautiously took the piece of chocolate from your hand. He gave it a sniff and let out a few chirps. What a delectable aroma! Most Earth food smelled vile but chocolate smelled amazing!

Without another second of hesitation, Zim popped the piece of chocolate into his mouth.  

What followed was pure bliss.

The sweet flavor of the chocolate gently kissed his tongue, as it melted in his mouth and gently slid down his throat. He didn’t feel nauseous in the slightest! On the contrary! He felt better than ever! His squeedilyspooch felt light as a feather as his PAK sparked a bit.

No wonder chocolate was considered a delicacy! That stuff was incredible!

Zim let out a purr as he let the taste linger in his mouth.

“Good right?”

The sound of your giggly voice woke Zim from his trance.

“Eh?! AH! Yes! Delicious! Delicious! Give me more…” Zim’s voice quivered as he reached for the rest of your chocolate bar.

“What’s the magic word?”

Zim sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

“Please?”

“That’s better” You giggled as you handed him the rest of your chocolate bar.

Zim quickly snatched the bar out of your hands and begun to greedily devour it, letting out a few excited chirps as he did so.

“I can’t believe they wouldn’t let anyone have chocolate where you’re from!” You giggled as you patted Zim’s head.

Zim jumped a bit at the sudden contact but calmed down when he realized it was just you.

“Heh. Sorry for the scare.” You took your hand off of Zim’s head.

Zim stopped eating for a moment and scooted closer.

“Do it again.”

“What?”

“Do it again…Please” Zim’s voice was laced with a slight plea.

“Um, sure thing.” You giggled as you begun to gently pet Zim’s head.

And with that, Zim resumed eating, this time he slowed down and took a moment to really savor the chocolate. He let out a purr as he unknowingly leaned on you.

Zim couldn’t believe he was so afraid to try chocolate! He was so worried about getting sick or worse in trouble. However when he finally tasted it, it felt like he had entered a state of pure bliss. The sweet flavor comforted him and made his worries disappear.

He never thought that an Earth food, or heck anything on Earth could possibly make him feel this way. Then in his state of chocolate-induced euphoria, Zim finally realized something.

The way he felt when he tried chocolate was the same way he felt about you.

Zim would never admit it, but he had grown quite fond of you. You were always so kind and patient with him. You respected his boundaries but made him feel so special!  

At first, he was scared he had gotten sick but over time he realized that wasn’t the case. These feelings while strange and scary, felt so sweet and pure.

For the longest time, Zim could never describe these strange feelings he had for you.

Now he could finally find the words.

To spend time with you was like eating a piece of chocolate. Although he would never admit it, Zim wanted to savor these feelings forever.

Zim soon found himself in a chocolate wonderland. As he explored his new surroundings, he came across a large chocolate pond.

SPLISH!

You gracefully emerged from the pond.

Zim blushed as you casually stepped out of the pond and gave him a warm smile.

“I see you before me. You see me before you. Never thought that I’d fall in love with you.” Zim sang as he gazed into your eyes.

“I will take your soul, if you take my heart.” You sang as you gently took his hands in yours.

“Fly away together, far away forever.” You and Zim’s voices melted together as you both sprouted chocolate wings.

“Chocolat Chocolat, you make me feel… Chocolat Chocolat, so sweet and pure…Chocolat Chocolat, I’ll savor this moment forever…” You and Zim flew into the chocolate sky and soared above the heart shaped clouds.

“Chocolat Chocolat, you make me feel… Chocolat Chocolat, so sweet and pure…Chocolat Chocolat, I’ll savor this moment, so take me to heaven or hell I don’t care where…” You and Zim danced atop the heart shaped clouds.

The two of you danced and swayed as you both gently descended to the ground.

Zim toppled over a bit but you quickly caught him. You then gently took his hand and begun to lead him though a chocolate park.

“I go to the park, wait for you to come. I believe in you. Only one is you…You will be my angel. I will be your spirit..” Zim sang as he continued to walk with you.

The Tallest appeared and started pointing and laughing.

“Look at him! He’s holding hands with a human!” Red chortled as he doubled over.

“Yeah! He’s so dumb!” Purple added.

BONK!

BONK!

SPLASH!

You chucked two chocolate balls at both Red and Purple, causing them to fall into another chocolate pond.

“It doesn’t matter what they say to us…”

“Chocolat Chocolat, you make me feel… Chocolat Chocolat, so sweet and pure…Chocolat Chocolat, I’ll savor this moment forever…” Zim gently took your hands and continued to dance with you.

““Chocolat Chocolat, you make me feel… Chocolat Chocolat, so sweet and pure…Chocolat Chocolat, I’ll savor this moment, So take me to heaven or hell I don’t care where…”

Zim begun to whisper a few things in Irken as he swung you around for a moment.

He was just about to pull you into a kiss when

“Zim? Are you ok?”

Zim awoke to find that he had not only finished his chocolate but was snuggling into you!

Zim let out a scream, jumped to his feet and ran all the way back to his base.

“What am I gonna do with him?” You sighed as you shook your head.

[the-mercurial-star-o-vesper]

ITS EYE AGAINST I

... And me against You. Hello random people of the internet, and the select RvB audience I’m intending to talk to. Time for millions to ignore my existence, while a select few look at my fancy garbage. Now, with no sense of decorum, or tact... I present to you. That Red vs Blue seasons 15 through 17 are continuity breaking and noncanon. To be honest, I’m not overly fond of the over all plotlines and more than a few handfuls of episodes were just... dull. And that’s saying something for a series I’ve been attached to for the last decade. That isn’t to say there weren’t parts I didn’t like. There were plenty of things that were just fantastic and launched perfectly. But let’s get to the whys and hows. Let’s set out the point system: First point. The Blues and Reds, our blue visor assmonkeys... were unnecessarily stupid. They were a copypasta team, with a poor excuse to be there, that not only doesn’t fit what is already established but breaks continuity by being there. If we were to take the rest of the 15-17 series, it’d be easier to make them into alternative universe counter parts or what-ifs, from different timelines caused by the series later use of Time travel. Rather than this blessed mess. They spit in the face of Agent Florida’s workhistory. And while you can see where the idea came from, the execution and establishment was lacking. The very fact that it includes Doc already tells you that we’re not with Agent Kansas anymore, and that it utterly destroyed Doc’s history prior to coming to Blood Gulch. Second Point. The Time Travel. [frustrated exhausted ugh-ing] The best I can say is that the series analysis of Time Travel was fantastic. It acknowledged that the inclusion of Time Travel is meant to break continuity and reshape it. The difference here, is that it only broke continuity. In fact it shattered it so badly that we’d have to ask the Homestuck Fandom to pick the remaining pieces back up, and classpect it for good measure. The fact that Human History was so severely fusterclucked by our Teams already shows you how much respect Continuity got in these last seasons, as well as how much respect to Canon. And then there were the “Gods”. Just... Introducing someone for the funny designs and the fantastic graphic and digital movements is nice, but it doesn’t do anything. See every pitfall CGI and 3D ran into for the last few decades. See, RvB is meant to run along side Halo without destroying one another in an “Upstoppable Force meets Immovable Object” sort of way. And if nothing else, its already established that RvB also has ties to Marathon too (which, while muddled up, still works). And while plenty of the shenanigans were fantastic (Loved that Cyclops scene), the reason they got there was Weak, and it just utterly detonates itself like Church and his stomach bomb... Surrounded by people you hate, and being hunted down by the world’s worst player at a knock-knock jokes. The Third Point I despise Jax. ... I kid, that isn’t the third point. But I still don’t like the Jax. His growth into a terrible director was funny, but it doesn’t really save him or his purpose in the series. I digress. Its what I dub the “Super Hero Ex Machina”. In a “Super Hero Ex Machina” situation, reality crashes in, breaks both Narrative flow and rules, for drama. And example is with Spiderman and his web shooting. In his narrative, he can save someone easily from falling with his web shot. But if the Drama Machina Maker is introduced, then the reality of the situation crashes down as the force of the fall would completely shatter the victim’s skeleton if Spiderman caught them. As this is not already established as happening before, its only there to cause drama and not meant for any serious development or character arc. Or if a show adheres to keeping the status quo at all costs. Things that would realistically and permanently mess up the status quo are solved in 1 or 2 episodes. But if Reality crashes because Plot said so, it breaks the established rules of the Narrative (and pacing). Especially if said plotpoint could have already been solved in prior episodes easily. And that’s what they pulled on Agent Washington and his throat injury. Washington is an established survivor. He has survived some pretty messed up stuff, both mentally and physically, and he’s come so far as a character. To a point where he’s almost unrecognizable from when he was first established as the “Noir Detective Soldier Mercenary Man who plays by corrupt rules but still shines that hurting heart of gold once in a while”. Some of the stuff he’s had to survive, and potentially had to survive would’ve killed normal people. Even his writers had to take a step back and say, “No he can’t survive getting cut in half by a car”. RvB is good about changing status quo, and keeping to a rule of “actions have consequences” in order to both forward character and story. So it isn’t like they’re above permanently messing someone up (... Church.) But there are Rules on how its Handled. Story will establish and evolve said rules over time, this is true, but its a “more things change, more they stay the same” situation. And Washington’s injury... breaks that. For easy reason; For one thing, we already have a Freelancer with throat injuries, and he got them in a far worse scenario. Agent Maine was bloody machine gunned in the throat, then tossed off a freeway stories up from a ground we never even saw. And all he got was a messed up voice. There isn’t a good reason to give Wash that injury, realistic as it may be, besides playing it for Drama. And while such a circumstance should be given both the realism and seriousness it deserves, this only works if, you know, don’t play it to make a person or people suffer for Drama. Does this forward Character? No. No it doesn’t. The seasons retreat everyone’s character arcs. What little it does show is how far everyone has come... By making them take 20 steps back, and 5 steps forward. An ultimately useless gesture that neither show cases the human condition of “repeat until you finally get the lesson” or “sometimes shit happens”. Does it move the story? Only for drama. Which is a very weak reason. Even worse, as the series has already established that it can think deeply and use drama as a tool and not a plot point. If not for character or story, is it meant to be a metaphor? Metaphor for what. RvB doesn’t do metaphors. If not metaphor, is it supposed to be informative of the condition itself? RvB has bloody PSAs. No. A story is decent enough if it can mix those questions up without one consuming the other. But there wasn’t a point to do it. Just to see Wash or Carolina or the guys to suffer? To show that sometimes people get injuries they don’t bounce back from? Are you Kidding? We just permanently lost Church, and they set out to find the possibility of his existence again! That right there already Tells you that sometimes folks don’t Bounce Back. There was an entire Arc for Caboose, fer the gods’ sake, talking about it. CABOOSE. What the flyin Fu-- Ahem. There was already a ruling about Actions have Consequences. It was apart of the status quo that went as far back as the Blood Gulch Chronicles. Its filed under “The More things change, the more they stay the same”, and even throughout the Reconstruction series, there were plenty of characters pulling permanently changing stunts that affected them through the rest of their lives, or caused their death for it. [deep breath, lets it out] So. Inspite of my many problems with S15-17, there are things I adored about it. - Donut and Caboose’s arcs. Fantastically done. Caboose getting to the understanding he got in S14 about losing friends was heart breaking and beautiful. Donut’s may seem like retread and flanderization, but that is actually easily explained. When you’re under sufficient stress, your coping mechanisms will boost out from 10 to 100, and just because you’re now fully aware of it doesn’t mean you have the power or development yet to stop. It was a fantastic look into his character. - Sister. They made her into more than just a gimick and Grif’s Sister, which was a problem I had with her in Blood Gulch. Good patch up there. - The Background info and the details in Background Info with our main characters. Ye Gods, we got some backstory! The humor works, the seriousness works, its a beautiful set of puzzle pieces that fit snuggly into both canon and continuity. - Chrovos. Inspite of the time travel plot pitfalls, I actually really liked Chrovos. Wish they did more with them (Him? Her? I don’t remember if they established their pronouns). Did not like Jenkins, inspite of him being created out of a cut character. The Gods didn’t work very much either, and would’ve been better suited as characters that weren’t “gods”. It doesn’t help that they just... had inconsistant rules. - The Freelancers. I love the introduction to the Freelancers and all their nice armor designs. Too bad they’re all feckin’ dead. - Temple. I actually really liked Temple and the idea behind him. However, instead of the malakey we got, and the Time Travel Nonsense that could be theorized afterwards. It would’ve worked better if he had been the leader of a Cult of Personality or sorts, purposely and badly mimicking the hype of the RvB teams’ fame and gathering surviving former stim troopers. The terrorist thing could work, and so could the Church plot. Everything else was stupid. Remove the Time Travel, this isn’t Homestuck Hour. Thanks for you for your continued reading. ... oh Right, I forgot. As awesome as it was to see Locus again, the uselessness of Wash’s throat injury and how he was reintroduced makes him more into a Deus ex Machina (and not that Halo 3 Machinima from way back). Its like fitting a circle peg into a square hole... But getting it stuck halfway and ruining the children’s puzzle toy. ADDENDUM (edited) I hate Hate HATED how Vic parodied Church’s epilogue speech, and I just about wish Church would come back just to beat the shiznet out of him for it.