#technically I have like somewhat of a guide in my brain to how I draw ears and teeth for different dnd races present in fh

[bacchuschucklefuck]

hi i just had to say i LOVE your art style i am obsessed with:

- how dynamic all ur pieces are the ones from fhjy ep18 captivate me especially

- the way u draw riz's ears like idk i just love them

- ur posework it is AMAZING

haha thank you very much! I'm very glad ur enjoying what's goin on around these parts :]

[who-is-page]

(Im sorry for all of the asks about this- I know the whole community is arguing rn so maybe it’s a lot)

I also get don’t reality check people bc it would hurt them. but some people are treating something seemingly impossible(?) like physically shapeshifting like it’s an agree to disagree with belief. “there’s no proof that it’s real or fake so it could be capital R Reality Real u never know.” but that rlly messes with me bc isn’t it scientifically impossible? so why can’t you say it’s not real? I understand not to say it to those experiencing delusions and that they have their own reality… but. how is it different than saying “the earth is not flat” even if a bunch of flat earth earthers believe it. bc it’s like scientifically impossible and not true. bad example but u get what i mean. It feels like we need to believe in the possibility or the “truth” of physical shapeshifting and if u are honest and say it’s impossible then that’s bad. its just confusing to be met with an unclear answer rather about how this actually might be real than a straight forward yes or no. it seems impossible to me, but when i see a community and all of these websites and guides about it.. a thought of “what if this is real-how could i not believe them” does somewhat creep into my mind. is it genuinely ableist to think that people who believe in this are experiencing something mental health related or are just ignorant and young or something?

If it confuses the fuck out of you and messes with your sense of reality, I'd advise doing what I do and just block p-shifters on sight. That's something I'll say straight off the bat: if it makes your brain feel like it's starting to melt and you're starting to consider things that you can already smell are going to land you in a heap of trouble five years down the road if you fall into them, GTFO! That's my motto. Real winners #quit.

I don't personally think it's ethically wrong to say "it is scientically impossible to physically shapeshift." This is my stance, but there's probably plenty of people in the alterhuman community who disagree; where you stand on if it's right/if it's wrong to make that statement is something you'll have to decide for yourself. For me, I think it's important to draw hard boundaries between reality and unreality for safety reasons-- because god knows we already have plenty of danger to focus on in shared-reality to keep us occupied as a community, we don't also need to include collective worries about things like "spontaneous green pyrokinetics" (to paraphrase one of the P-shifting books on my shelf) and AWTOK as well. I tend to view physical shapeshifting the same way I view the 'falling of the Veil/we'll regain our Trueth Froms and take over the tri-state area world!' and similar sorts: fun to entertain in fiction, probably not a good thing to be convincing other people of in practice.

I'm also not wholly equipped to answer the ableism question, I'll be the first to admit. Thoughtcrimes don't real and you're technically allowed to think whatever you want in your head. But I can say that if you start outwardly treating people, including individuals who self-identify as p-shifters, like they're dumbass kids or like they can't make coherent decisions because you personally believe that they're young and ignorant or have something mental health related going on that's affecting them, then you're going to be ableist. Don't do that. That's about as much as I can confidently say without feeling like I'm overstepping into territory I can't talk on.

[raintailed]

rain rain rain rain how do you draw iterators and slugcats btw like all your gyus are so shaped its so fun to look at theyre just little guys...

i'm gonna start with slugcats! my old guide from 2023 is here.

Note: "slugcat" refers to multiple species (slugcats are in a species complex). It can be hard to differentiate slugcat species, since some are very similar and hybridization between them is common where their ranges overlap. The species that Monk and Survivor are members of is called the "common slugcat."

Slugcats are weird sorta-feline creatures that walk bipedally and have little hands. Their average height is 3'3" or about 1 meter tall.

Their basic body shape is a round head on top of a trapezoidal body. Their legs are digitigrade, they have human-like arms (that are often skinny lol), and their tails are thick and tapering. Slugcats also have retractable arms ig??? I have no idea how that would work

In terms of head shape, it's similar to a cat's, but with a somewhat taller forehead (bigger brain! more room for being Smart!). Slugcats usually have short muzzles, big eyes, and long ears.

Note: slugcat arms usually rest in front of the body (think meerkats) rather than to the sides like a human.

Uhhh I like giving slugcats dewlaps (rabbit dewlaps are a good reference)!

And for fat slugcats, fat is usually stored in the tail (and dewlap) first. So naturally my gourmand has a big tail and a big dewlap :]

And!! I like to think that some slugcats have fur, and some don't. Hairless slugcats are slimy; furred slugcats have oily, waterproof coats. Some shorthaired slugcats have smooth fur like otters and seals do.

TEEFS!!! Except technically, slugcats don't have teeth. Rather, they have sharp, jagged beaks (think cephalopods). Their beaks continually grow and they are self-sharpening. Because their beaks are really sharp, slugcat bites are always serious injuries.

The length of their "fangs" varies by species. Some carnivorous species have long fangs, for example.

And! They have bristly tongues like cats (and kinda like the radula of a gastropod).

For their paws, slugcats have 3-fingered hands and feet. Their claws vary; some individuals have blunt claws, some have sharp claws, others have retractable claws, etc.

The inner toe of a slugcat's foot is opposable, making it easy for them to grab onto poles with their feet. (Compare to scavengers, who mostly use their arms to climb.)

SLUPPIES!!!!!! (don't worry about the fluffy one, they're just eepy)

Slugpups have different proportions than adults! Including having a bigger head, chubbier body, etc. Fluffy slugpups can also be a bit scraggly like longhaired kittens are.

My slugcats are basically egg-laying marsupials. They lay eggs, store them in their pouch, and then the eggs hatch into itty bitty babies. The babies stay in the pouch, feeding on milk until they're big enough to venture outside.

When pups are too big for the pouch, they ride on their parent's head or back. They also begin the process of weaning around this time, since by then they've started growing a sharp beak (i guess before that, their beak is dull and too small to self-sharpen?).

Note: some slugcat species are unisex and others are trioecious (having male, female, and unisex individuals).

For expressions, ears are important!!

Neutral: ears relaxed. The relaxed position varies by individual; some slugcats have their ears rest slightly tilted back, for example.

Alert/interested: ears perked up.

Angry: ears pinned back. Very angry slugcats have their ears positioned so they're almost in line with the top of the head.

Afraid: ears pinned down (sometimes slightly to the sides, too).

Sad: ears droop to the sides.

Slugcats mostly use their tails for balance, but they're used for some emotes too.

Upwards-curled tail is an excited or enthusiastic hello! Kinda like how some cats raise their tail when they see their human.

When upset, annoyed, or grumpy, slugcats may thump their tail against the ground (kinda like how rabbits stomp).

Some slugcats wag their tails when playing or excited. This isn't a universal thing, though.

Slugcats with fur may puff up their tail when startled or scared. They may also puff their tail when excited or playing, too.

[robinsnest2111]

since @anaalnathrakhs wanted me to put my dm thoughts into post format and @crueclown22 wanted to know more about the pet play AU, here you go:

the dirty fuckin dog Nikki photoset (+ bonus Mick <3) really got me thinking of ideas way beyond my skill level. have never tried drawing full on kinky sexytimes and idk if I could properly describe the divine images in my brain with either words or art :')

I just...... need almost feral pet play with Nikki as the dog and Mick as the owner.

Nikki being an unhinged beast and Mick still somehow managing to harness that beastly energy to his own benefit aughhh

I need need need to see Mick guiding feral dog energy Nikki in how to fuck him the way Mick likes it. Technically he may be getting dicked down but he's still in full control of Nikki.

(in response to the beautiful fic this idea spawned) also kinda hoping in this universe Mick lets Nikki bite him at least once sometime. Leave pretty pretty bruises on his pale skin that don't fade for weeks 🙏

I'm just. so insane about it all. Nikki managing to behave and Mick calling him good boy...... 🙏 or letting Nikki nip and bite and lick and nuzzle every inch of Mick's body he can get to, trying to show Mick how much he needs him and loves him. Also laying claim to him. Nikki might not have scent glands like an animal would but he tries to rub his scent all over Mick nonetheless.

Mick internally being on cloud 9 because holy shit the unhinged amount of attention Nikki is showering him with is nothing like he's ever experienced and it's so addicting to him, even better than booze or drugs

tbh at first I thought Tommy was the dog/werewolf of the band but Nikki does have that energy as well, maybe that's why they're the terror Twins

...

Tommy and Nikki tag teaming Mick.... 🙏 Nikki would be more feral and unhinged and Tommy would be more playful like a young dog, meaning well but very forceful in his excitement

At least Vince isn't quite as feral. I picture him as more of a pampered little lapdog, all bark and almost no bite. Not nearly as troublesome as Nikki and Tommy teamed up

Thinking about Vince crawling into Mick's lap whenever he wants, to get pet and pampered, Mick indulges him 75% of the time, running his fingers through the blonde locks because it keeps Vince docile enough to make him somewhat pleasant to be around. Nikki haaaates it, just sitting in the corner, grinding his teeth, because that should be him

BONUS:

whenever Vince gets too unruly/horny for Mick to handle on his own (or when he's simply too tired to deal with Vince's insatiable hunger) he tells his other two dogs to help him out, calm their fellow pup down in certain ways iykwim 👀

[clownpi]

New Lightcannon idea: Prince of Persia crossover. A new exhibit of rare relics from Shurima opens in Piltover with the highlight being the supposed 'Sands of Time' hourglass and Dagger of Time. The ancient Vizier attacks the Museum to gain both items, and use them to turn both cities into a replica of his kingdom he was master of in ancient times. However Jinx (Surviving being stabbed by the Dagger she just happen to be wanting to rob as well.) makes off with the Dagger in a visiting Lux being dragged along for the ride.

Never played the Prince of Persia games (I seem to be saying that a lot with having not watched/read/played lol) so I'm only able to talk from context clues, but I'm somewhat struggling on figure out how to mentally develop the idea (If that makes sense).

Usually with these submissions it gets my brain buzzing, but with this one I don't really know how it would go. Like I can see Jinx being a little gremlin sneaking in to the exhibit, maybe getting found out by Vi and Caitlyn (who are patrolling the exhibit given it's high profile nature and the fact Jinx likely sent them a note expressing her interest). Lux could also be there as a diplomat.

It's just I'm drawing a blank on how the story would advance past getting the cool dagger.

I don't know, for some reason my mind just drifts to the Mummy given the subject matter and my enjoyment of the movie. In that case it could be an AU (or take place in Runeterra who knows) where Lux hires a team to explore newly discovered ruins that are thought to house unimaginable treasures.

Team would be: Lux (Kinda over it archeologist), Ezreal (Well-intentioned explorer friend that's a massive idiot surviving through sheer luck and is practically unkillable), Sivir (Local guide, gruff with a heart of gold when it counts, constant mocker of "Dumb foreigners"), Jinx (Ex-Convict hired due to her unmatched skills when it comes to traps and engineering, keeps flirting with Lux), and Caitlyn and Vi being thrown into the bunch as Jinx 'technically' isn't an Ex-Convict since she escaped prison early because she got bored.

Villain would be Xerath or something, who the accidentally unleash and have to deal with.

Maybe I just want to rewatch the Mummy.....

[chronicbatfictioner]

"Overall, it wasn't so bad..." Tim commented.

"Except for the fact that Bane roared like a constipated bear and literally lunged at Damian and Jason threw him out the window..." Barbara quipped, her face serious but her lips were still twitching. "I... am highly amused. Twice."

"You were laughing until you bent over double that if you weren't in a wheelchair, you've probably knelt on the floor laughing." Dinah deadpanned. "It was hilarious."

"Yes, it was. The fact that Jason could actually lift Bane and throw him out... Did you guys see Bruce's face, though! Oh my god! He... he looked at Jason as if he'd seen the lord savior Jésus Todd or something!" Tim crowed. "Like, the dude Bane got thrown out a bay window twice. I get the awe, I was a little star-struck myself. But I can't believe dude actually wanted to try the third time until Alfred pointed a damn shotgun to his forehead! I can't even!"

"This thus solidifies my thoughts that the Waynes may be trying to figure out a way to get rid of this... brute without... I dunno..." Barbara pondered.

"Gotten themselves broken in half?" Tim suggested. "He sure insinuated that he would do such a thing to Damian."

"Oh, gee, Tim. Which part of his speech insinuated that? 'You lying bastard!', or 'I'll break you in halves!'?"

"I'm partial to the 'bastard' remark, really. I mean, pot, kettle?" Tim replied, giggling.

"Technically," Helena Bertinelli - The Huntress - sighed as she chimed in; "and ironically, at that; the 'bastard' would be Bane since he claimed to be Thomas Wayne's son and is younger than Bruce. Which means he was 'conceived' while Dr Thomas was already married to Mrs Wayne..."

"Right? Bruce and Talia were two consenting adults, albeit under 20 years old; and were wed in a local ritual witnessed by locals, according to Jason. You should see Bane's face when Jason presented copies of the marriage's registry." Tim continued.

"Oh, we saw, all right. Harper's drones worked quite well." Dinah replied, snickering, referring to Harper Row, one of their tech 'consultants'. "Even at that height, it still delivered crystal clear pictures. I vote we use them again."

"No vote needed, the drones are on stand-by at the Wayne Manor permanently at this point. I'm more interested in his reaction when Damian offered them a DNA test." Barbara told her.

"I'm more interested in Bruce Wayne's reaction, really. He didn't seem too surprised, as if he was expecting this to happen or something." Helena pointed out.

"Maybe he did," Barbara replied absently. "Dude has been swingin' more than the roarin' 50s, there has got to be some juniors out there that even he didn't know of."

"Ugh, while I'm not a fan of Bruce Wayne's womanizing ways, I personally don't think he's that reckless. He's not a drinker or a junkie, as far as I know. He has virtually no vice other than extreme sports." Helena argued.

"I agree," Selina, who has been quietly watching from the corner, chimed in. "This is a guy who got visibly antsy when some sexy girls in bikinis come up to him - I thought he was gay. But if he'd been... wedded to Talia Al Ghul all these times, that would make sense. He knew exactly where he stood, and what would come up if he screwed it up."

"Has Jason or Dick said anything of the Doc and Mama Wayne's reaction?" Helena asked.

"They seemed truly confused, a little apprehensive, but didn't seem to be opposed to the idea that Damian is Bruce's child. Dr Wayne said that a DNA test wouldn't be necessary, but Jason insisted it." Tim replied, and added a little absently a few heartbeats later. "But why would he, a physician with more specialties than a truck stop, would not question the biology of anyone claiming to be his biological descendant?"

Barbara glared at Tim, "excellent question, Tim. If my dad has someone coming out of the boonies saying he's related to me, the first thing dad would do is draw blood."

"They... don't care?" Dinah suggested. "Maybe the Wayne men were less... chaste than they appear?"

Barbara glared at her this time. "Of all the women Bruce Wayne has dated, I've only recorded a handful who would end up in a second date. Less than a handful who were actually mentioned beyond social media photos; and you know how I feel with social media photos: generic, unverifiable, and showoff-only. Dates with Bruce Wayne generally would start with the pick-up, dinner, and then some form of jewelry. I..." she looked at Selina and Helena, "you've both dated him at one point or the other."

Selina shrugged, "I went for a gala dinner, and was honestly there to scope the homeowner's safe, really. I wasn't interested in a follow-up date." she replied. "Helena?"

"Social arrangement. My people called his people and boom, we were on a red carpet." she elaborated. Helena was a part of a mafia family, until she decided that the mafia way would not be the best way to make Gotham a happy place for all, and donned the costume of the Huntress to hunt down wrongdoers. Barbara had decided to let her join to prevent her from going over the line and murder anyone out of overzealous-ness; but also in order to get a line-in into the mafia families.

"No second dates, either, huh?"

"No, I'll have to check, though. I think his people called me again, but I wasn't interested in a vapid playboy, even if he has more money than Jesus."

"Vicky Vale," Selina reminded. "She has had a... somewhat lengthy relationship with Bruce some years ago."

"Sooo... the next answer in our mystery could probably be answered by interviewing an investigative journalist." Tim commented.

"Oh, no..." Barbara grinned mischievously. "Not this investigative journalist. I know just the journalist to talk to when it comes to gossip among themselves."

Dinah snorted a laugh. "I thought you didn't like her."

"I liked Vale less," Barbara griped. "Plus, Vale is already getting news on Bruce's probable child; why shouldn't I send Lois Lane the allegations of the Bane Conspiracy?"

"Conspiracy with who?" Dinah asked curiously.

"Oh, the Waynes, of course, to get rid of the Court of Owls," Barbara smirked. "Why should we be the only ones racking our respective and collective brains when we can have someone else on the ground doing the grunt work?"

"Babs, you can be... pretty evil sometimes," Selina remarked. "I know there's got to be a reason why I like you."

"I'm also awesome with technology and can launder your ill-gotten money and make it legal and undetected." Barbara pointed out.

"Oh no, that's why I liked you." Helena quipped smirking. "Seriously, how many mob family can say their ill-gotten money is accountable by law?"

"As long as it is within the facets of the law, and so on and so forth... Anyway! Tim, you're quiet for more than two seconds. I'm always nervous when you're quiet."

"Just thinking..." Tim said, looking a little lost in his own brain. He often does that when he has at least a dozen scenarios running through his mind. Through the time of Barbara knowing him, Tim would probably be the only person whose claims of 'just thinking' wouldn't immediately be picked on by anybody.

"Care to share with the class, kitten?" Selina prompted.

"It's not fully mapped yet... but I was thinking. What if the Waynes aren't... didn't cooperate with Bane in order to destroy the Court of Owls, and they're literally being hostages in their own home? What if Bruce Wayne has predicted something like this could happen, and has gotten himself all prepared all the way to ten years ago when he wedded Talia Al Ghul? I mean, who would have had enough firepower to defeat Bane other than the Al Ghuls? Look at Jason," Tim pointed out. "He threw Bane out the window as if he was a fly. While Jason is as solid as a rock but isn't a metahuman - Bane is. He was assigned by Talia herself - out of Gotham - to protect and guide Damian-- why? What's so special about Jason Todd? Why did Talia choose him? Why didn't Bruce Wayne - at least - act shocked when Damian said he was his son? Surprised, sure. But not shocked or in denial.

"Who's gonna win if Bane turned out to be Dr Wayne's son? Who's gonna lose? What will they lose? Who is Bane accountable to? If none, who planted the idea of him being Dr Wayne's son? Because from what I've read about him, he was born and raised in a prison with his mother - no mention of a father. His mother was an insurgent of Hasaragua, fighting against US-condoned democracy. And while there was a record of Dr Wayne being there, there was no exact date and length of stay, because he was there privately and not as a part of Médecin sans Frontieres or something like that.

"What about Mrs Wayne? She wasn't a poor or uneducated woman, since she was a Kane. Society-wise, do you think she would have tolerated her husband's indiscretion, both then and now? Yet she kept quiet for nearly two months. She has a Ph.D. in psychiatry, and would she be the ones to keep quiet about DNA testing and all that? Personally, I don't think so. If my mother - a little 'lesser' society lady compared to Martha Kane-Wayne - ever got a word of a child that 'probably' got fathered by my dad, she would have demanded a divorce right away without bothering with a paternity test, sure. But my dad, who was also a society man, would have at least attempted to convince her that it was a mistake and/or it was a lie. What best method to decide a child's paternity than DNA test?

"The criminal front in general - especially the costumed criminals - has been pretty quiet since Bane eliminated the Court of Owls. Why? That's rather stupid since we know that the Court's Talons were the ones who made moves to 'discourage' the costumed freaks. Annnd... that's where I couldn't map out things further." Tim rambled.

"Keep talking, even half sentences are better than none, Timmy." Barbara prompted. Tim might have had a brain that worked a mile a minute, but he was still very young and would often get flustered with himself. Barbara, on the other hand, has an eidetic memory, and things Tim said tend to stick to her brain and would fill the gaps in any puzzles she might be thinking about. Even half sentences.

"Right, I do the fact spreads, you do the jigsaw-puzzling." Tim nodded. "The murders of Talia and Ra's Al Ghul. Jason said they were deliberately murdered in a way that they would never be able to be resurrected through the Lazarus Pit. The perpetrators would be the League of Shadows, a rogue splinter of the League of Assassins. Lead by Lady Shiva. Why? Why were they murdered? Why now and not - say - next year or last year? Who benefited by their death? Aaand... I'm done, for now, I think..."

"I... can feel a headache brewing," Dinah admitted. "You and your conspiracy theories." she rubbed Tim's head fondly. Tim gave her a half-smile, still trying to articulate the thoughts in his head.

"That's why we need him, he takes the most random input and makes a theory out of it, and some of them would actually make sense. I'll start a search string based on some of your questions. If you have more, don't hesitate to tell me, Tim." Barbara realized belatedly that her tone sounded dismissive, and turned to Tim. "Want me to call up for Chinese and powwow a little more?" she added.

Tim shook his head, still glaring blankly. "Thanks, I gotta go... I've some... things to look into. Thanks, Babs," he replied, ending it with a genuine smile as he got up.

"Want to come home with me, Kitten?" Selina asked, worry for Tim apparent on her normally-blank face.

"No, thanks, Ma. I gotta go back to the mansion, just in case, right?" Tim pointed out.

"Then Dinah should go with you," Selina decided.

"She's coming there later, right, aunt Dinah?" Tim asked. Dinah nodded.

"I'll get home with food, so don't worry about that, kiddo." she said. Tim waved them all and then walked out.

Once he was out of the door, Selina sighed. "Ah, young love..."

"Right? Remind me to check in on him before going to the House. I don't want to walk in on something and have him traumatized." Dinah agreed.

Barbara glared at them quizzically, and then at Helena, who shrugged. "Grayson said it first, I think. Our kitten is growing up. I just hope that Jason guy is worth his firsts..."

The memory of Tim gawking at Jason when he thought Barbara wasn't watching flashed in her mind.

Oh.

And then of Jason blatantly checking Tim out just before Oracle made her appearance, and at times when her Oracle projection was turned off.

"Oh boy," she sighed.

"That's about it in a nutshell. Good thing I've told him of the birds and the birds..." Selina grinned slyly.

"Millennial parenting at best, Ms Selina Kyle." Dinah grinned. "Come on, let's go patrol and induce the fear of goddesses to Gotham's low-lives before inducing maternal fear to our little kitten."

"...or to the big tabby. We'll see," Selina added, waving as she and Dinah walked out of the room.

Suddenly Barbara felt a little sorry for Jason. Just a tiny, teensy, weensy bit of sorry.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "What If...Captain Carter was the First Avenger" from Marvel Studios' What If...

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Back when Marvel Studios announced the new lineup of films and shows, I was admittingly underwhelmed. Nothing we've seen so far has been poorly written, far from it, but during the announcement, nothing really popped out at me as worth getting excited for. That is, except for one series: Marvel Studios' What If... An animated series that changes the canon of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, all through the simple question. The question being, "What if this happened instead of that."

From the get-go, I was sold on this idea. I'm a sucker for hypothetical scenarios, thinking up all the ways of how some of my favorite stories in fiction could be drastically different thanks to one tiny change. Some might call that "Fanfiction the Series," and while you're not wrong, I fail to see how that's a criticism. Because fanfiction can be fun...just as long as you ignore the sick freaks, sure, but it still can be fun! So whether Marvel Studio's What If... is fanfiction or not, it still didn't change how excited I was to watch it. Was it all worth the hype? Well, to answer that question requires spoilers, so keep that in mind as we dive deep into Marvel's most ambitious project yet.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

The Watcher: Gonna get the generals out of the way before I talk about what I specifically like about this episode. Ok? Ok.

Now, using the Watcher as the narrator for this series is just perfect. What If... already has a similar energy to The Twilight Zone: An anthology series that takes viewers to new and mysterious realities all through the guidance of an omniscient narrator. And using the Watcher as that type of narrator might just be the second-best choice...number one would be Stan Lee, obviously, but...he's dead now. May he rest in peace.

I haven't read that many comics, so there's not much that I know about the Watcher's character aside from a ten-second Google search. But something tells me that a character described as a celestial being that observes and records the events surrounding the galaxy sounds like the exact type of omniscience to guide us through the unknown. All added with Jeffrey Wright's performance, who really does convey a character that sounds like he's as old as time and wise beyond his years. Plus, it's pretty cool that such a seemingly odd character now technically plays a major role in the MCU canon. Comics are weird, and if the Watcher proves anything, it's better to embrace that weirdness than deny it.

The Animation: Looks like someone watched Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse.

That really is the feeling I got when watching this. What If... doesn't look as good as Spiderverse (Nothing can be as good as Spiderverse), but the idea is still there as it combines primarily CGI animation with a few hand-drawn elements. It makes certain scenes just pop and, at times, even makes specific shots look like they're straight from panels in a comic book. Besides, while Spiderverse still looks better, that doesn't mean the animation isn't phenomenal in What If... The scenery looks gorgeous, the CGI models moderately match their live-action counterparts, the expressions are fantastic, and movements are as smooth as butter. There was definitely some money that went into this series to make it look as good as it did, and my eyeballs were more than grateful because of it. Especially when it comes to--

The Action: Holy s**t, was it a good thing that this series was animated!

The MCU has had its fair share of great fight scenes in the past, but it always felt restricted to what the big superhero fights could be due to everything needing to look "realistic." That all changes in What If... Because now that this series is animated, we can finally chuck realism out the window and allow these characters to be as epic as they were in the comics. The movements are swift, the blows look like they hurt, and best of all, you actually get to see characters fighting each other! There are no random cuts to hide the stunt doubles or weird camera angles to avoid audiences seeing how ugly the CGIed replacements are. We get to see all of the action with zero restraint, thanks to the fact that animation is limitless and allows writers to get away with literally anything. And shows like this make me wonder, "Why the hell isn't the MCU animated?"

Peggy as Captain Carter: It's here that we get into the specifics, and by golly, do I love me some Peggy Carter making a return. And what a return she made!

Seeing Peggy kick Nazi ass as Captain Carter is as awesome as it sounds as she gives a new definition of a "Strong, independent woman." She took s**t from no one and was more than willing to destroy anybody who said differently. It's a ton of fun for fans (the ones who aren't sexist, at least) and even fun for Peggy as well now that she gets a chance to wreck shop. However, that in itself could cause problems. If you watched Agent Carter (a great show, by the way), then you'll know that Peggy doesn't act as...somewhat meatheaded as she does here. As she said it herself, she's "usually more covert than this." And she is, as she was pretty much the first superspy in the MCU, who's impressive through how she effortlessly infiltrates her way to winning the day with diminutive requirements for fighting. So stripping that away gets rid of a core part of what makes her character so interesting. Although, in fairness, you could blame the fact that the reason she's acting like this is that the super-soldier serum is messing with her brain a bit. We've seen through U.S. Agent the reciprocations of the wrong person taking the serum, and while Peggy is far from the worst pick, there are hints of why Steve Rodgers was the best choice. Still, even though it's not the same Peggy Carter, that doesn't mean Captain Carter is a poor addition to the hero roster in the MCU. She's cool in all the right ways, even though they're drastically different from what made her compelling, to begin with.

Howard Stark: Another character I'm more than happy to see again!

Howard didn't leave that much of a grand of an impression in Captain America: The First Avenger, but in Agent Carter (Seriously, great show), he was a blast. You can just tell he was Tony Stark's father through all the ways he fast-talks in and out of problems and brilliantly comes up with solutions thanks to being tech-savvy. The main difference between Howard and Tony, however, is that Howard prefers to stay on the sidelines, where Tony learned to be more proactive. You get a sense of that in this episode. Because even though he goes to save the day, you can tell that he would rather be anywhere else. And, as a bonus, Howard's just funny. Probably not up there as one of the funniest characters in the franchise (Paul Rudd's Ant-Man reigns supreme), but he still cracks me up more times than not. Howard may be nothing more than a side character, but he'll always win me over no matter how small of a role he has.

Steve Rodgers in the Hydra Stomper: Don't mind me. Just admiring the fact that despite being crippled and skinny, Steve Rodgers still finds a way to fight the good fight, which is who Steve is to me. One of the best things about The First Avenger is that it fully understands the hero that is Captain America. Serum or not, he will do all he can to do the right thing and won't give up despite how many times others tell him he should. So if Steve's going to fly around in a suped-up Iron Man suit that's appropriately named "The Hydra Stomper," then Steve'll f**king soar. Because he is a gosh dang superhero, no matter what name he takes at the end of the day.

Fast-Forwarding Through Events: Some fans might take issues with this. Don't get me wrong, I would love to see all the little changes that Captain Carter makes to the story, but realistically that's not the best choice to make. Let's be honest, there's not that much to show other than what this episode did, and doing a full-on rewrite of Captain America: The First Avenger would have rubbed some fans the wrong way. Besides, from what I can tell, most of the What If... comics are one-shots that very rarely branch out into longer arcs. The primary goal is less to write this large-scale story and more of this self-contained narrative that does what it precisely delivers: Show fans a glimpse of what would happen if this happened instead of that. That's what we were given, and I can't really complain that much. I would have loved to have seen more, but I can learn to be happy with what I got.

Colonel Flynn Taking Credit: This guy is sexist and an idiot, and that's why I hate him...but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't at least chuckle when he said everything was his idea. It's such a scumbag move that I couldn't help but find the humor in it.

(Like, what even was that scene where Peggy was pissed at Steve kissing a girl. THEY WEREN'T EVEN DATING !)nd Steve falling in love inThe First Avenger, which certainly wasn't helped by how they had these dumbass misunderstandings of each thinking the other was dating someone else. Here, they at least get to interact, confiding in one another about their insecurities and offer support when needed. And while it may be a little rushed, I'm more willing to believe their romance in under thirty minutes than I did in over two hours. It could have been better, but it also could have been much, much worse.

(Like, what even was that scene where Peggy was pissed at Steve kissing a girl. THEY WEREN'T EVEN DATING AT THE TIME!)

“I won’t tell you anything.”/”He told me everything.”: That's the Peggy Carter I know and love! Added with a solid joke, too.

Steve’s Pratfall: It's nice to know that no matter what universe we see, Marvel is still funny.

Peggy’s Sacrifice: Much like Peggy and Steve's romance, I buy Peggy's sacrifice way more than Steve's. Several fans already pointed out how it makes no sense for Steve to crash the plane into the icy waters when it seemed like he had enough control to land it or could have easily jumped out after aiming for the crash landing. Here, there's a more legitimate reason why Peggy sacrifices herself. The monster was undefeatable, and the only way to stop it was to push it back through the portal. Peggy, being the only one strong enough to do so at the moment, was the only option, and there was no way where she didn't end up going through with the monster. Even her return makes more sense, as I think her being lost to time and space sounds more believable than Steve surviving being frozen in ice. Something no mortal man should live through. Peggy's sacrifice proves that while the MCU can't change its cannon past, the writers learn from their mistakes and make something better.

WHAT I DISLIKED

The Reasoning Behind Peggy Becoming Captain Carter: So, the idea that one small change can greatly alter the story we knew is a great one, and it's one of the main reasons why I was excited about this series...but how does Peggy staying in the room cause the Hydra agent to detonate the bomb early? I understand the ripples that come from the Butterfly Effect, but I feel like that's too big of a leap to reason how Peggy ends up taking the serum instead.

Colonel Flynn: How is it possible that this guy is somehow even more of a pain in the ass than the general he replaced? At least Chester Phillips had the decency to respect Agent Carter!

Red Skull is Still on the Dull Side: Red Skull isn't an awful villain, but he wasn't really a great one. It's the same here, as he's just as forgettable and wooden an episode of television as he was in a full-length movie. But at least he had a cooler death this time.

Sebastian Stan is Not a Great Voice Actor: He's not awful, but his talent really doesn't shine in this regard. Some people think that being an actor and a voice actor is the same thing, but it's not always the case. Through live-action, actors are given a chance to express emotion through their expressions, movement, and voice. With voice acting, actors still have to convey emotions, but strictly through their voice. Meaning that actors like Sebastian Stan are limited to what they're used to and can stumble a bit when trying to perform in a field of acting they're unfamiliar with. You can tell he was trying his best, but this type of thing can take far more practice for others to perfect.

“Whew. Thanks. You almost ripped my arm off.”: ...hhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHA! HA HA! Ah...oh man...I, uh...I felt the internal bleeding with that one. Wow. Just...wow.

Bucky Leaving After Steve “Died”: Ok, now that's the biggest bout of bulls**t I've ever heard. BUCKY WOULD BE WITH STEVE 'TILL THE END OF THE LINE AND WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT THAT QUICKLY!

...This episode did Bucky dirty, didn't it?

IN CONCLUSION

I'd say that "What If...Captain Carter was the First Avenger" is an A-. It's still a solid start of what I can already tell will be a great series, but some elements could have used some polishing out. I loved it, but it wasn't as bloody brilliant as it could have been.

(And I meant it: WATCH AGENT CARTER! It's pleasantly surprising!)

[monchikyun]

XVIII. bury a friend

It has been awfully quiet for about an hour now. As Connor ended his story with horrible dejection written all over his face, he turned around and initiated his stasis, refusing any and all comfort Gavin has been more than willing to provide. He did expect it to be something twisted and tragic like that, even imagined the worst possible scenario before being told how it really went down, just to be safe. If he’s honest with himself, the reality isn't very far from the most fucked up course of events his mind has been able to cook up. Still, it has been able to freeze the blood in his veins, which has paralysed his brain for the amount of time it took Connor to withdraw to his simulated sleep. 

Gavin has already cursed himself for being so goddamn incompetent when it comes to emotional issues, blamed himself for the cold shoulder he didn't even have the chance to receive. He still does, as he lies glued to the bed, counting the cracks in the ceiling. His nicotine addiction is begging him to go into the cold and give it what it needs to survive, but the warmth of his current company is impossible to leave. His hand aches for the smallest touch, for some confirmation that Connor is still here with him. So he directs his sight to the body next to him, letting himself be mesmerised by the constellations of freckles decorating the android's bare arm. It's a painful view, knowing that he still doesn't have the right to connect those dots with his own defects, to interpose himself with this amazing, flawed being who has carved a hole in his chest and invaded his heart.

He remembers how the android was back when he found him on the roof, finally realising the enormous difference created by the months they’ve spent together. Last spring he dreaded going to work, feared that Connor just wouldn’t show up one day and he wouldn’t be able to see him ever again. Or worse, all that would remain of him would be the empty vessel that used to house his colourful soul, something that would kill his last hopes. He was tempted to become a well-meaning stalker then, to always be near for when a potential threat arrives, but that idea was too exhausting for him in the end, and so he left his worries to a silent prayer which guided him all through to summer. 

With the warmth came the first smile and a myriad of gratitudes for his uncharacteristic kindness. That’s when they started having casual conversations, a big leap from the uncomfortable silences that filled their shared hours in the previous season. It was somewhere in July when he first regarded Connor as his friend, without his vigilant denial disagreeing that fact. Gavin has always found the android very attractive, like an eye candy specifically developed for his torment, but knowing there was a whole, unpolished person behind that plastic perfection has made his partner so much more appealing. He simply couldn’t stop himself getting drawn to him, despite all the countless attempts to emotionally distance himself from the one who lived inside his dreams. It was either letting himself be eaten by the monsters living in his past, or inviting in the one person who has the power to push them away from his corrupted mind.

For the longest time, he did neither. Though his inability to act on his feelings was due to more than just the inherent fragility of their source, he was simply afraid like he has always been when it comes to things that have the potential to hurt him. He'd rather be thrown in a paper shredder than to have his soul bruised again. Physical pain is easy to understand, straightforward in its healing. Time usually takes care of what needs to be done, but when it comes to the mind, sometimes even passing years will have little to no effect on the waste that has accumulated in someone’s innermost core. And Gavin didn't want to add onto the rotting pile of mess that has already been too much to bear as it is. But that was months ago, and as the earth was becoming colder, the warmth that had started budding inside of him turned into sweltering heat.

When autumn was nearing its end, he understood that he would soon burn up if he didn’t begin dealing with his problem. Maybe that’s how they got here, to a place where he doesn’t have to call his feelings inconvenience anymore, having breached the border that has kept them apart all these months. He wants to stop fighting it for good. This truth is sent to him from above as he puts his fingers on Connor's bare temple, tracing the ghost of the LED that used to signify his nature. 

He'd like to say that the fact that one of them isn't human is what prevented them from giving into their hearts' desires, but that is far from the truth. Life is much more complicated than that, not as black and white as he wants it to be. 

Gavin wishes their relationship was defined, so he could casually take the android in his arms and hold him away from the evil of the world, just for a short while, just so he can expand his collection of irreplaceable moments that he doesn't ever want to forget. 

He considers getting just a bit closer, weighing all the pros and cons that ultimately mean nothing because deep down he recognises that their sentiments are shared. So he lowers his steadying hand down from Connor’s temple, ready to enfold everything his partner represents. But fortune isn’t on his side tonight, because as soon as he begins his movement, Connor wakes up with a jerk that betrays confusion lined up with its best friend, unease. 

"Did you have a nightmare?" Gavin is more than familiar with the concept of being tortured by his own psyche as he lays it to rest, so he's aware of just how disorienting such illusions can be, how unrelentingly cruel and merciless they often are. 

"No, no... I-... androids can't normally dream. I wasn't really sleeping, just… thinking. More than I should." 

Gavin scoots over so their shoulders are just about touching, a decision his conscious mind has had no say in. 

"Do you wanna talk 'bout it?" A quiet, tentative question just barely escapes his lips for fear he gets denied entrance into Connor's trove of dark secrets. 

There is a short, excruciating period of silence before he gets his answer.

"You know how I can preconstruct any future scenario based on the information available to me?" 

"Yeah? I mean… sorta. Can't really wrap my mind around your technical stuff most of the time." That's only partially a lie. He ought to tell him that he doesn't want to picture his inner workings because they kind of scare him, but maybe that would be too inappropriate given the frailty of this moment. 

"Well… I saw you get buried…,” the android breathes out for reasons Gavin can only guess, “after you died, naturally." 

"Naturally." 

Why doesn't this even surprise him anymore. Of course Connor would paint himself the grimmest image possible, these are just his default settings. Give him the brightest colours and he'd draw you the darkest sky without a single star in sight. 

"That's not… I'm sorry I,... I didn't mean to… I just couldn't stop it since it went that way and…" 

"Hey, it's okay.” It hurts seeing Connor get like that, losing most of his coherency and feeling like he should apologise for it.  

“How…," Gavin takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts down. Connor was the one who saw his funeral, not him, yet he feels like he’s been there already, among the dirt, not far from other decaying corpses. It’s an uncanny sensation. Not one he’ll be chasing any time soon. 

"How did it make you feel?" A stupid question, really, and yet the best his brain has to offer. 

"How do you think?" Gavin never knew that tears could fit an incredulous look, but the welling in Connor's eyes combined with the exasperation written all over his face is proof enough. Laughable, frankly, but he wouldn't dare. Not now, anyway. 

"Guess it sucked then." 

"That's putting it mildly." The android shakes his head and rubs his eyes before they have the chance to leak his sorrow. 

"I… I don't ever want to go through that again,” he says, desperation piercing his voice through and through. It would be easy to dismiss these ungrounded worries if it wasn’t for the two flaming brown lights probing his own mossy pools like they intend to hypnotise them and seize control over his soul.  

"You know that no one can force you to… be there... when it happens." 

"You don’t get it! That's not the point. I don't want to live in a world where two of my best friends are nothing but a memory. I realise that’s selfish, but… "

Gavin does, by all means, get it, he just tried to help, somehow. 

Connor’s eyes are turning into glass, threatening to melt again, so he closes his because God knows he does not possess the strength to witness it, not tonight at least. 

"Maybe you should just relax Con, the future will come no matter what, but we still have the might to shape it as we like. To some extent. Anyway,... I promise…," he cuts the sentence midway to inhale a big gulp of oxygen, an action which results in a minor coughing fit. 

"I promise to try my best to stay by your side as long as physically possible. " A statement which makes him want to cry instead. 

"Does it mean you’ll stop smoking then?" 

Oh, that devious android, of course this conversation would lead here, why wouldn't it. He glances at his nightstand, checking if the half-full box of cigarettes is still there, waiting for him to take its lethal fruit. Come to think about it, ever since their little trip his taste for cigarettes has somewhat diminished. Could be the fresher air just outside these thin walls, or the fact that Connor’s presence stimulates him enough already, so the need for nicotine is not as great as it is when he has to spend his time alone or surrounded by people who hold little to no significance to him, pretending like he doesn't crave something beyond the drug his body could very well function without. 

"Yeah..., yeah, okay." Gavin buries his face in his hands, disbelieving his consent. 

As he puts them away and folds them in his lap, he scroungers up a lazy smile meant to lighten up the heavy mood, to maybe clear Connor’s stormy sky a little. 

"But only if you promise to try to be more optimistic…  just a smidge.., " he makes a gesture with his two fingers to show how small of an effort would suffice. 

Then he gives Connor a friendly pat on his thigh, after which he realises that he doesn't have to limit his displays of affection anymore, not after all the intimacy they have been willing to submit themselves to already. 

So he lets his palm linger, allowing himself to rub gentle circles into the clothed skin. He doesn't have to be cautious with Connor, for the android isn't burdened with any biological organs that would make this situation uncomfortable for both parties. 

"Life isn't all bad, I’m sure you came across that particular information at least once during your time on this Earth. Experienced it, even. No?" 

"You're right." 

A trace of a hesitant smile on Connor’s lips is all that it takes for Gavin to heave a sigh of relief. He’s too tired to think beyond that feeling. Everything inside of him, all the emotions and memories blend into a blurry mixture as he starts losing the ground under his feet. 

But he must fight it, his friend still needs him awake...

"Let's go to sleep," Connor whispers, tugging him into a tender embrace. It’s warm and safe and he can't concentrate on anything but the wave of love pulling him under to the sweet slumber he’s always yearned for. 

Indeed, life can be ever so wonderful sometimes.

@a-convin-new-year

[riveir]

wishlist plots & aus.

i’ve been meaning to do this for a while but because i’m a person that really strongly prefers plotted interactions and also runs into problems with actually getting those more developed things going, i figured compiling wishlist stuff and stuff that comes from my own brain might be helpful. i’ll keep this linked in the pinned post if anyone ever wants to draw from it for a starter call or whatever, and to also make it easier for me to find if plotting ever hits a road block.

peace corps. this would technically fall under the umbrella of one of river’s canon au verses, the one in which he lives but is in the less realistic scenario where he rejects his parents’ wishes and goes ahead and joins the peace corps. this could be a really good way to get muses from two different canons / universes / etc. to meet, because the organization brings all these people together into one group sent to work somewhere overseas. river works as an english education teacher, and where they’re working can be totally open. could be used as mentioned before, but also as sort of a stepping stone for river to start a life beyond the states / open up opportunities for him that will take him away from home, etc etc. just a fun way to take him out of his usual settings and throw him in a new place under new circumstances, whether your muse is in the corps with him or if they’re just in the same place and they meet under different circumstances.

political dynasty. rather than holding a high position with goldman sachs, river’s father has an influential political position ( like a diplomat or foreign ambassador, which could explain river living years of his life at least somewhat abroad ), something that would put the family under a microscope on a national scale. could be a very kennedy-esque thing where politics is sort of just like the family business and river would be expected to carry that mantle as well ( which, obviously, he doesn’t really want ). this could go a number of different directions because the barkleys would be considered high profile individuals: bodyguard stuff, danger stuff, etc. i’m open to anything here, this would just be the groundwork to set up some conflict that would be more specific to your muse and their circumstances, since this is pretty adaptable on river’s end. i’d also be willing to write river older than i usually would ( as a younger adult ), because i think being nationally known would change his circumstances a bit and yada yada i can elaborate on that more if anyone asks, if we wanted to go the route where river himself is the political figure, probably a junior congressman or something. he could pretty controversial, as mental health advocacy and gun control would probably be two of his biggest agendas / two of the most important components of his platform.

modern royalty. similar to the above, but rather than coming from a political family, river comes from a monarchical family. obviously not based in the united states but could open up similar plotting opportunities as listed above. for one example he could still be attending a traditional university, and could open up opportunities for your muse to be a classmate of his ( as a friend sure but maybe there’s some benefit your muse could gain from making friends with him or something shadier like that ), or maybe you’re super annoyed that he’s there because like who cares about the royal family and why does he get so much attention, or maybe your muse knows he hates the attention and it gets to a point where he actually has to be fearful about it and there’s some way your muse can help him out.

fake dating. this is a jam of mine always. river could have several reasons of his own to be in a fake relationship, and this could work especially well in another au like the political dynasty or modern royalty scenarios, but it could totally come more from your muse’s end as well. it could also be a thing where river’s parents are trying to set him up with your muse if that would make sense, because that’s a very wasp-y rich people thing to do. 

period aus. this one is super open but river could work really well for this type of thing, especially because his family is so old fashioned in a lot of ways and very traditional in how they expect their family to be and how they expect river to be and all that. also could work super well for this letter writing plot i have in my wishlist tag.

ghost!river. this would have to be plotted for sure because the way river’s “ghost” canonically manifests is as an extension of the other person; he exists to give them advice or as their moral compass/conscience or something like that. it can be different depending on the muse, but he manifests at their own will and serves some sort of purpose for them. he’s more of a guiding force of some sort rather than an actual ghost coming back to reveal new information or anything like that. he wouldn’t do anything that the other muse wouldn’t think he would do, and wouldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. the exception to his in river’s canon is when the protagonist has a near-death experience and sees river in the afterlife and they have an actual conversation as two separate entities, and that could definitely be something i’d be up for, too.

champagne problems. this song off of evermore has enormous river energy. from the genius description of the song: “’champagne problems’ tells the story of a woman who shocks her would-be fiancé and their loved ones by turning down a marriage proposal right before christmas ... the song depicts ‘longtime college sweethearts [who] had very different plans for the same night, one to end it and one who brought a ring.’ the song implies that the protagonist has a history of mental illness, which the town subsequently stigmatizes in their gossip surrounding the failed proposal.” river could be either of the people in the couple for obvious reasons ( either the wealthy person from the well-to-do family all expecting the proposal, or the person who breaks it off and is subsequently - or, maybe, already is - the subject of that gossip ). the circumstances of the breakup can vary depending on the specific relationship between the muses: maybe they were really in love and had a great relationship but the influential family just had too much influence and pressure, maybe the stigmatization and gossip was a bit too much, maybe neither of their hearts were really in it and it was just an advantageous thing that appeased the big family but the other person ultimately just decided they couldn’t go through with it. as i am with everything i’m totally open here. it also totally doesn’t have to match the exact circumstances and can just be based on the general idea. ( in the same vein, here’s a link to some cool folklore-based plots )

apocalyptic danger. or to be honest, any sort of scenario that creates a life or death (or near life or death) situation for one or both of our muses. in all honesty i just love raising the stakes.

musician or actor river. even though it’s not my favorite alternative path to explore for him to seriously pursue acting or music as a career, it could open up some potentially cool dynamics that i’d be down with. maybe river plays piano in a bar or restaurant or whatever at night during college and your muse loves open mic night. maybe they’re doing a show together in college or maybe even out of college if i think it would make sense that river could get to that point in life. maybe river’s actually achieving some level of success and has some degree of notoriety. idk this is just an option that could be cool if we develop it enough ( cause like i said, without that development and specificity to our muses i’m not as into this route for him specifically)

childhood best friends to lovers. ( or some variation ). self-explanatory, just my favorite trope. some wishlist stuff here.

wishlist post #1: “i just want a plot where it’s two rich kids who live in neighboring estates and their families always throw parties together and they have vacation homes in the same spots and their elite parents are too busy to notice when they sneak off to fuck in that second guest bathroom that no one uses or get high in the back library and makeout”

wishlist post #2: “give me a we broke up because i had to move away because of school and we knew we couldn’t do long distance but oh my god i’m home for christmas and you’re still beautiful and we’re wine drunk slow dancing to the sound of elf on the television and you smell like hot chocolate and i miss you so much please don’t let this end again plot !!!!!”

wishlist post #3: “someone give me “you live in the apartment across the hall and you’re so fucking hot but i get so awkward around you even though you act completely normal and i stutter every.time. you’re out of my league anyway but then one night my stupid roommate locks me out and i forget my key and you see me sitting the hallway so you invite me in. and obviously i say yes but holy crap what is happening” plot pretty pls”

wishlist post #4: “au where it's a blind date gone wrong/really awkward first time/two people who just get off on the wrong foot but keep on running into each other and then slowly fall for each other”

wishlist post #5: “give me best friends who harbor feelings for each other . they’ve acknowledged the feelings but they don’t do anything about it , because the friendship is too precious . and when one of them is finally ready to say “ fuck it, let’s take the risk ” , they see the other making out with another person”

i also always just want more college things and things in pre-established canon universe aus ( all linked in my pinned post, but including hogwarts, gossip girl, legacies, riverdale, etc ). i’m also always down for plotting ships.

[rigelmejo]

mejo’s rough but somewhat effective guide to beginning to learn chinese:

1. get interested in a chinese drama. go do it. Now, watch it on youtube with your native language as the subs, and pick a video version that’s already hard-subbed with Chinese (so you can see both english and chinese subtitles). Alternatively, download the free chrome extension “Learn a Language with Netflix” and then find your drama of choice in netflix and pick chinese +english subs).

2. Watch the drama. Make a point to look up certain chinese words in google translate or pleco - just quick lookup where you draw the chinese character you see on screen, or type the pinyin if you catch the pronounciation. Just do this occasionally. The point is, do this to try and pay attention to the chinese more. You’re doing this to notice some (hopefully common) words, and to start training yourself to look at the chinese subtitles and to listen more carefully.

3. Ok, now you should have some interest in learning chinese properly. Your next step is to look at these two lists: 200 most common words chinese  and 625 words to know in mandarin chinese (I recommend downloading the absolutely PHENOMENAL spreadsheet mathewko28 made - its in both traditional and simplified characters). The first list is designed to help get a person communicating their basic thoughts effectively. The second list is well designed for a broad introduction to a lot of common words. Now, you do not have to memorize these lists. But I do want you to go through them. Make a note of all the words on them you ALREADY know from noticing them popping up regularly in the drama you watched. For the words you don’t know, make a conscious effort to look at them/review them a few times. You can make flashcards, read them in a list, write them down, or just glance at them repeatedly. Just please look through these lists - reviewing the words you know, and reading the new words - several times. Do this within a month or few weeks. You can memorize them if you want, but mostly just focus on seeing them OFTEN for a few weeks. Continue consuming the chinese media of your choice (a drama, youtube videos, whatever you like). Keep making an effort to look up some words in whatever chinese media you’re consuming. 

4. So now you should have been watching dramas, and looking over common words, for either a month or 2 months. Do not expect perfect memorization from yourself - you still don’t know a lot, and that’s okay. But you should be a lot more familiar with chinese then you were at the ‘I recognize absolutely nothing’ stage you started at. Now is a good time to do a few things at the same time: look up Chinese radicals and READ A FEW ARTICLES about them. Mainly, read articles about how many they are, read a table that defines those radicals, and read an article that explains how those radicals combine to create chinese characters (and often the radicals either contribute sound or meaning to the character they are in). Literally just read up on that. It should take a day or two, a week at most. You can read up on it more later if you want. But KNOWING that radicals exist, and starting to notice them within characters, is going to help you a lot later on. At this time, also look up the general rules on how to write characters (stroke order directions). If you want to learn proper stroke order for every character, you’ll need to learn that later when specifically learning characters. But for right now, recognizing radicals as chunks within a character, and knowing roughly how to properly write a character, will help you a TON with looking up characters in dictionaries (whether a physical stroke-order based one, or google translate or Pleco where you need to draw them to look them up). You should also look up a PINYIN guide article at this point. Learn what pinyin is, learn what the tones are. Learn that if two 3rd tones are together, the first one is pronounced as a second tone! Even though that change is never typed or written different in pinyin! (so ni3hao3 is pronounced ni2hao3, even though it will ALWAYS be written as ni3hao3 in pinyin.)

5. So you’re somewhere in month 2 now, or maybe month 3. You are still consuming chinese media. You have been learning a lot of common words. You have gotten better at understanding how characters are put together, and they’re now easier to look up and sometimes you even recognize their pronunciation based on a radical within the character. When you’ve been looking up characters, you should be listening to their pronunciation in Pleco or Google Translate - and trying to hear the tones. At this point... you may have noticed that while words are starting to make more sense, grammar is CONFUSING AS ALL HELL. Lets say you’re in month 3: keep looking up those common words from the common word lists, and keep looking up frequent words/phrases that show up in your dramas. Listen carefully to their pronunciation, make a mental note of the radicals that combine to form the characters. Try to make nmemonics to help you remember some words, if you have trouble remembering them. You may look up some articles on nmemonics at this stage.

6. You’re at the beginning of month 4. You know some words, some characters, and for the most part can recognize audio of the words you know. Grammar is driving you up the wall!! You don’t get it!!! Now is the time to look up a Chinese Grammar Guide. Look up whatever one on this planet you desire - who knows, you may even wish to look at multiple. But I highly recommend, sitting down and actually reading through an entire guide start to finish. Yes, I know its gonna be technical and a heavy read. Yes, I know some of it is gonna be rough to get through. Read through a guide, and reread the chapters/points you find confusing. Read through a grammar point until you understand the idea of how it works, THEN MOVE ON to the next point. Understand what you read, but if you cannot memorize it all or replicate it in your own sentences, that is fine. Absolutely fine. The main goal here is to just read through an entire grammar guide. Make yourself. It should take a few days to a couple weeks. It may be some grueling heavy focus hours of reading, just push through it. I recommend just picking one decent-to-read guide and then finishing it. You can go back and reference other grammar guides later. I read through https://www.chinese-grammar.org/ in about a week. Then later on in my studies, I used All Set Learning’s Chinese Grammar Wiki to look up points I found confusing. The whole point of chugging through a grammar guide, is to give yourself a rough overview of the way the language is structured. So that you can start noticing grammar in your chinese media moving forward. You will not understand all of it yet, but you should become familiar enough to recognize WHEN something new is happening with grammar, and now have some idea of what kind of ‘grammar point’ to look up for reference when you see a sentence and get confused.

7. You have now mega-crammed grammar. Your brain hurts. No more heavy text study for a while. Go back to consuming chinese media mainly. You can ignore the common word lists now - you may wish to go back and see how many words on those lists you KNOW now. You might be surprised. Overall though, just focus on watching some good shows. At this point, every so often risk trying to watch an ONLY-chinese video, or read an ONLY-chinese article. Yes... you will understand almost nothing. Pause the sentences you DO recognize pieces of, and look up the rest of the sentence in Google Translate/Pleco. Recognize when you see a grammar point that is familiar. Open up some chinese article/novel in Pleco EReader, or in the free app Idiom, or free chrome extension Zhongwen, and try to read through a few paragraphs using the ‘dictionary define’ feature in your chosen app to define the words you don’t know. At this point, since you have the definitions at a click of your finger, the hardest part will be the grammar. This is where you start really getting more familiar with all those grammar points you just read about. This is where you start seeing them actually being used. It’s the middle of month 4 to month 5. Do this for a few weeks. Every few days, challenge yourself to watch an all-chinese short youtube video, or to try and read a few paragraphs of all-chinese in an app where you can look up definitions. Your brain will feel fried in an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT way then chugging through a grammar guide made it feel. You will feel mighty confused. You will often reference a grammar guide just to look up specific points you noticed when reading/watching that confused you. These few weeks will be weird. But the beauty of it is, you’re learning a TON the whole time you’re feeling confused. 

8. It is now month 5 or 6. You feel FRIED from trying to just straight up CONSUME chinese media in only chinese with a dictionary/definition tool at hand. It’s been exhausting. You are currently brainstorming ANY METHOD to make this task easier. So, now its time to make this task easier! You may now go back to mostly consuming chinese media that has dual english/chinese subtitles, so you can rely on the english subtitles again while remaining exposed to the now somewhat-recognizable chinese subtitles as well. You will now only occasionally, once every week for 10 minutes or so, look at chinese media ONLY in chinese and attempt to comprehend it. You will do this short 10 minute activity mostly to gauge your progress. For the most part, just go back to dual english/chinese content, and look up the occassional new frequent word when you get curious, while every so often trying to read the now much closer-to-comprehensible chinese subtitles. If you’re like me, it’s at this point that you’ve decided... you really just need to know more characters and words. Because looking up every single freaking word was exhausting! Your new hard-study task, is to really dedicate time to learning characters and words. Find yourself either wordlists, flashcards (I use memrise decks), and/or good reference books (I have an 800 character reference book, and a 2,000+ character HSK reference book). Spend your portion of dedicated-study time working your way through these. Make measurable goals like “i will review 50 flashcards this week” or “i will read through 1 chapter of my book every X days”. Make measurable rewards if you have to (I will get myself an ice cream if i read 20 pages of this character mnemonic reference book, etc). If your goal is to pass an HSK test, now is the time to get focused on HSK specific study materials such as an HSK textbook, website, course, etc - and actually purposefully work through it. Make measurable goals, do them regularly. Make measurable progress. If you are doing it for the reasons I am, then your goal is just word and character learning. If you’re preparing for an HSK test or something similar, now is ALSO the time to really drill/practice grammar points you need for your specific test/level. Remember, if you care about audio comprehension, to study using some tool that also provides audio (my flashcards have audio).

9. If you are like me, and just learning for comprehension’s sake: After a month of casual chinese content consumption and concentrated word study, gauge your progress. Sit down and note which measurable goals you accomplished, and the reality of your progress versus your hopes (maybe acquire words slower than you thought you did, maybe some goals were unrealistic for you, maybe you ignored parts of your study plan). Make an adjusted study plan that is more likely to work for you. Gauge your progress by: once again, attempting to comprehend something only in chinese. Watch a short video in chinese, try to read an article again. See where you’ve improved. (For me, I noticed my grammar comprehension had improved significantly, along with my individual character comprehension - it was specifically 2-character words I still struggled with the most). Reiterate to yourself WHY you want to learn chinese, then restructure your goals accordingly based on your progress and where you’re lagging. For me, speaking ability is not a high priority - so I was mostly concerned with my vocabulary still being the biggest thing preventing me from comprehension. For you, it may be something else. It could even be grammar - if it is grammar, this is now probably the time to purposefully, using measurable goals, work through a grammar guide starting with ‘beginning’ points or else starting with what you’re struggling with that is preventing you from comprehension. Basically, you are noticing your progress, and coming up with the next steps of plans.

10. You are basically going to be repeating step 9 every few weeks/every month or so. Continue to casually engage with chinese media, and occasionally (once a week or so) try to comprehend only-chinese content to gauge your progress. Work on your measurable goals for the ‘focused study’ portion of your study plan. For your free time, you may do other focused study that’s not as urgent of a goal to you, or you may continue practicing with the language (consuming chinese media, talking to people in chinese once you’re at that level, listening to chinese or chinese learning podcasts, reading books at your comprehension level or graded readers, etc). For me, my step 9 was reading through about 300-500 most common characters, then measuring my progress. After I measured my progress, I was sick of looking at characters - so I switched to reading graded readers, and using most-common-word flashcards and that was my Step 10 focused-study portion. I am now doing primarily my most common word flashcards in memrise. I am to word 650 and it has made significant progress in my comprehension. I am now familiar with a lot more basic literary words, so in novels it’s getting easier for me to locate actual information from ‘then/before/after/so/therefore/but/yet’. In watching dramas, my comprehension is now considerably higher. As a challenge, I watch one of my dramas in only chinese - and look up an occasional word if I get confused by it. I did not start watching a drama in only chinese until month 8 - and I would not recommend it until you can sit through 1 episode of a drama without it taking too long (basically, i pause for only a few minutes through the show, so it still takes less than an hour to watch an episode), and until you can comprehend enough of the gist to bare only looking up words occasionally. Basically - you don’t want to pause too often, and you want to understand enough to follow along without having to pause too often. If you are not yet at that level, then continue consuming chinese-only content as the occasional challenge to gauge progress and push yourself to try things above your comprehension level. 

If you ARE comfortable comprehending enough of the gist to watch something in only-chinese and it takes a short enough amount of time for you to remain focused, then go ahead. Because I am focusing primarily on increasing vocabulary right now, I am regularly noticing how the more vocabulary i know, the easier the only-chinese drama is for me to comprehend. Learning more vocabulary is noticably making my life easier with each measurable goal I meet. I am also noticing that my ability to comprehend chinese in REAL TIME (without pausing) is not as fast as i’d like. IF I paused the show i watched, then i would comprehend much more since i’d have time to slowly read the sentences and interpret the grammar. But my goal is not to slow down and analyse sentences at the moment - my goal is to practice watching chinese in real time, and practice comprehending it in real time. Later, once I have learned 2000 words and 2000 characters, THEN I plan to focus on reading as my main media-consuming. When I focus on reading, that is when i plan to slow down and practice comprehending a sentence piece by piece and actually paying attention to sentences slowly. But for right now, since I’m mainly just practicing comprehending in real-time, I am limiting how often i pause to read over chinese subtitles to only a few times an episode.

----My Current Plan----

For now, I plan to continue focusing on working through my 1000 word list, and hopefully work through my 2000 word list. Once I get ‘sick’ of studying words primarily, I’m going to shift my goal to my Intensive Chinese series of textbooks by Zheng Peng Peng. The first book is on spoken chinese, and I want to use it to really hammer in the basics and make sure I’ve got a solid knowledge of them. The second book is a little more on radicals and a quick read. The third book is intensive reading, where i plan to use it to really hammer in knowledge of the most common 800ish characters and words. These books focus on 1000-2000 very common words, with the last book being character-reading focused. I think they will help, after i get through the flashcards, to help me really solidify my memory of the most common words (and fill in any lacking common-words my flashcards may have not mentioned or not explained thoroughly). Once done with my 2000 most common character flashcards, and these books, I feel I should have a very solid foundation. These books also cover basic grammar, so I’ll get a review on some grammar topics and build a more solid foundation on how to USE those grammar structures.

After that point, I want to go back to character study - go to my 2000+ character reference book, and study any remaining characters I haven’t learned by that point. At the same time, I’ll go through my 5000 most common chinese words deck including HSK (in memrise). I will catch that deck up to the words I already know, and start working through the remainder. So I will basically be finishing up working through the character reference book i have, and also working through the bigger most-common-word flashcard deck I have. That should be a good way to expand what I can comprehend at that point.

AFTER that, I will either: read some of my grammar books so I can read more in depth about more grammar points. OR I will start diving into practicing reading. And I will alternate between one of these goals, or the point above (2000 characters/5000 words) depending on how well I can concentrate on either task/goal. I will continue to watch chinese dramas, and watch one in all chinese, and to continue occasionally trying to read. 

[babywarg]

ironstrange multipart fic: Settling for a Miracle [5/?]

Chapter Summary: You can't use any other spells while you're drawing power from the Dark Dimension. Stephen stops drawing from the Dark Dimension for the first time.

Notes: 2015. A lot of things happen in this year. This is the year Avengers: Age of Ultron takes place, and also the year I presume Peter gets his powers.

I wanted this part to be longer, but in the end I decided that 3k+ characters is the best I can manage without...postponing an update for another week.

This part drones on a bit because it sets the scene for Stephen relearning how to use his magic. The next part is sliiiiightly more action-packed.

This was the piece I imagined Stephen playing to wake Tony up. Minus the singing in the middle :P

Originally on AO3.

***

As there was absolutely no way Stephen was moving all the way out to the west coast, Tony had to be the one to adjust. This meant carving out a space where, in his words, he could “keep an eye on” Stephen until he was sure that the danger really had passed.

There was no danger in the first place...but Stephen felt Tony knew this, and simply wanted an excuse to spend more time with him.

Tony got himself a fully serviced apartment in one of the many more discreet Stark-owned buildings in New York. It was, technically, Tony’s place. Stephen was just welcome to stay whenever he wanted.

Which was pretty much whenever Tony was in town.

It felt like there were no secrets between them - which was, of course, untrue. That was just how it felt, due to the sheer amount of talking that went on. Tony didn’t speak about confidential matters, though he did speak about the Avengers rather a lot. Especially Steve Rogers - who was, in fairness, quite fascinating.

And Stephen never mentioned magic.

It was as close to happiness as Stephen had gotten in a long, long time.

But something was still missing.

They’d already talked about their screwed-up past. The traumas they’d lived through: the deaths of their family members. Tony’s kidnapping. Stephen’s accident.

At times Stephen asked himself if opening up about his time in Kamar-Taj would fill in the missing part...

But then common sense hit him upside the head hard. Yeah, he said, go ahead and tell him you can do magic but won’t.

And while you’re at it, tell him you’re breaking the laws of nature. Constantly. Without regard for the risks. Just because you missed the accolades and praise you used to get.

That ought to make him like you more.

Tony got a piano for his apartment. It was nothing fancy: an upright that fit comfortably in the living room. This was, of course, a day after Stephen mentioned that he used to have a grand piano in his old apartment in Midtown - one of the very first things he’d bought after moving in.

Stephen had not expected to fall in love with that piano, but he did. He looked forward to playing it whenever he was over.

“Good morning, genius.”

Tony laid his hands on Stephen’s shoulders, bent down and planted a kiss on the side of his neck. Stephen smiled.

Stephen imagined there were other couples in the world who called each other “genius” and “smart guy” as terms of endearment, instead of as snarky insults. But he and Tony had only been together a couple of months, and he really didn’t care about other couples.

“You playing this thing,” Tony murmured into his ear, “has got to be my second favorite way to wake up.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Is it? What’s the first, then?”

“Your mouth.” The smirk was right there in the words. Stephen didn’t need to turn. “On my - ”

“Really, Tony? So early?”

Tony pulled himself upright, chuckling. “What? Such a dirty mind, doc. I mean the smell of coffee.” He took a deep and noisy breath. “And I have both going for me this morning. Lucky me!”

“Lucky you.” Stephen had not stopped playing. “Sleep in any longer and you’re going to miss your flight. Had to do both, to be sure.”

“Hm. Wow, you’re right, look at the time. Well, I’m showering before coffee. Join me?”

“Not if you want to make that flight, Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah...”

Tony’s anxiety from the night before was creeping back in. For some reason, this trip to Sokovia was bothering him. He wouldn’t tell Stephen why. He only said it was probably going to be dangerous.

Although all of Tony’s trips for S.H.I.E.L.D. were dangerous.

There was no time for breakfast after Tony’s shower. He needed to perform a final check on the suitcase he was bringing (generally, Tony brought little with him on trips; he just bought new clothes wherever he landed). As he was doing so, he took the mug of black coffee handed to him by Stephen, and downed it in one gulp.

He gave a hearty whoop and blinked rapidly as the caffeine rush kicked in. And as the chemicals settled in his brain, he addressed Stephen.

“Listen...there’s something I want to tell you.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “I’m not housesitting for you while you’re gone.”

“I told you, I got people to do that.” He faced Stephen, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm serious, Stephen. This is important. You know the work. You know there’s always a chance I won’t come back. I just didn't want to go off to this one without letting you know how I feel."

There was a seriousness to Tony that Stephen didn’t often see. It alarmed him slightly.

"And that is...?"

Tony reached for his hands, his fingers twining restlessly with Stephen’s.

"You keep me calm. And God knows you turn me on. I don’t get as many bad dreams as I used to since we started sleeping together, and that alone I think is a goddamn miracle.” He smiled. “These days, things can get overwhelming. So I just want you to know, I appreciate feeling like you got my back. I like having you around."

Stephen had to smile again.

“I always have your back, Tony. And I like having you around, too. Just in case that wasn’t clear.”

It seemed this was exactly what Tony needed to hear. Stephen could feel his grip on Stephen’s hands loosening, his entire body relaxing somewhat.

"Anyway," Tony said as he released Stephen, "I hope I didn’t just creep you out. Or will I find all your stuff in boxes in eight days’ time?"

“All I have here is a toothbrush, a towel and a change of clothes. I doubt you’ll notice if they’ve been packed away.”

Tony snorted. “Good job revealing your master plan, Sherlock. If the toothbrush, towel and change of clothes aren’t here when I get back, I’m hunting you down.”

After this, Tony turned and resumed sifting through the contents of his suitcase.

As he did, Stephen, standing beside him, came to a decision.

There was no way on earth he wasn’t doing this.

***

This was how it worked: One performed a specific ritual from the Book of Cagliostro every so often, and in so doing, channeled energy from the Dark Dimension into one’s own body, for a period of time.

There would be a constant light tingling sensation in the parts of one’s body where the dark energy would reside. It was largely unobtrusive; one could get used to it. One could forget it was even there.

In most cases, the exhilaration of restoring one’s limbs to perfect shape and health was enough to offset any discomfort.

The ritual was deceptively simple and surprisingly quick. Any idiot could do it, as long as that idiot had basic magical knowledge and prior exposure to dark energy.

And that, Stephen supposed, was why it wasn’t taught to every idiot who came asking to learn.

Jonathan Pangborn had also spent 2 years in Kamar-Taj, before the Ancient One taught him the spell. Stephen was never taught it at all, not by choice. One night, a number of forbidden spells from the Book of Cagliostro had mysteriously entered his dreams and burned themselves into his brain. Stephen simply sought to do the best he could with the invasion.

The Ancient One had made a similar decision. Instead of wiping the spells from Stephen’s memories, she opted to guide him on how to use them, instead.

He doubted Pangborn had been taught all of the spells that were in his brain now. Some of them were vastly powerful and destructive - certainly not for 2-year novices. From what Stephen could gather, Pangborn had just been taught the one spell: how to turn his own body into a conduit for dark energies.

Still, it was not a spell that could be taken lightly. For one thing, it disliked all other spells.

This meant that once the ritual was in effect, no other spiritual activity was possible.

No astral projection. No telekinesis. No portaling. Even the most fundamental novice spells were blocked.

That is, until the ritual was cancelled - by willing the dark energy in one’s body, back to its source.

For another, as the Ancient One had said: anyone who could draw even a little power from the Dark Dimension, had the ability to draw more.

It was possible to draw too much. At the risk of losing one’s mind.

Did one ever desire to turn one’s body into a vehicle for chaos, a puppet for dark forces? All one had to do was draw vast amounts of power and let it take over one’s entire being.

Deceptively simple. Surprisingly quick.

And so Stephen had to be careful. Every time he had to do the ritual, he took enough. Just enough.

Until the magic ran out, and he had to do the ritual again. Over time, Stephen had needed to do the ritual less and less often.

It had been over a year since he last did any kind of magic that was not the ritual.

He was about to perform his first spell since leaving Kamar-Taj.

And he hoped to God he’d get it right.

***

The first thing he did was to end the ritual, to send the dark energy within him flowing out.

His hands immediately started to shake.

His unsteady fingers fluttered behind Tony’s head, just barely touching the tips of his hair.

Hairline tendrils of light snaked out from his fingers, formed a small golden spider in the air.

Once fully formed, the spider leapt onto Tony’s nape, and sank into his skin.

Then the light disappeared.

Thus Stephen planted a tracker: a magical way of monitoring Tony’s emotions as if they were his own.

Tony turned to face him again.

Stephen stuck his hands into his pockets quickly.

“All right, everything in order,” Tony declared with a sigh. “God, I miss your coffee already. And I know you love it too, so you better not finish it all off while I’m gone, mister.”

Stephen’s eyes narrowed at him. “Why do I even like you.”

Tony smirked again. “Not only do you like me - you can’t keep your hands off me. Which you may think sucks for you, but I’m just rolling in the benefits.”

Stephen hesitated. Funny you should mention hands...

“Okay. You know what, smart guy? I can so keep my hands off you. Just to prove it, I’m keeping them behind my back until you’re out of sight.”

He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed them behind his back to demonstrate.

Tony smirked. “Kinky.” He stepped toward Stephen again, placed his hands on Stephen’s hips. “Gives me a few ideas for when I get back.”

He leaned in for a kiss, and Stephen obliged, his hands behind his back trembling harder as he tensed up slightly.

Tony said one last reluctant goodbye, then left without noticing the shaking.

So much had happened, and he never noticed.

***

There was enough to keep him occupied over the next few days. There were complex post-operative complications with an elderly patient, a new stumper referred to him by Nic West, a toddler with a tumor in an extremely difficult location, among others.

(The Strange Device prototype would help vastly with most of these cases. But until Tony got back from Sokovia, development was stalled.)

Like Stephen, Tony was busy. But what bothered him was not Tony not answering his texts as quickly as he used to...

It was him still not feeling what Tony felt, close to a week after he planted the tracker.

Did the spell not work?

Did the tracker fizzle out, like spells used to do when he was still starting off?

A part of Stephen told him he didn’t need to do magic anymore, not in the life he’d chosen. So it was pointless to obsess over whether or not the magical spider he’d planted inside the base of Tony’s skull was working.

But it troubled him nonetheless, because of the implications.

Scrying and mind-reading were skills that were beyond Stephen, but spells to read other people’s emotions and dreams were available to novices.

Did he seriously just fuck up a novice spell?

Or did exposure to dark magic reduce the effectiveness of regular spells?

One night, as he puzzled over these things, he came back to his apartment late to find Peter Parker sitting up against his door.

Stephen wondered how long he'd been there. There was an anxious look on the boy’s face as he stood to acknowledge Stephen’s approach.

"Hey, doc...”

"Peter. Were you waiting for me?"

"Um, yeah." Peter promptly began avoiding looking him in the eye. Unsure of what to do with his hands, the boy started rubbing his own wrists, for some reason. "I was kind of just wondering...you're a doctor. Does that mean you're good with, uh, science and...stuff?"

"Science and stuff? Fairly good, I'd like to think.” Stephen frowned. “Why do you ask?"

The frown seemed to give Peter pause. He stammered as he replied, "I-I was wondering if you could help me out with, um, chemistry."

Peter didn't even sound sure about that; it could have been any other subject.

"See, I'm struggling with it some in school, and May says I should ask around for someone who can help. The first person who came to mind was you." He seemed to suddenly hear himself, and he put up both his hands in a gesture of surrender. "But it doesn't have to be you! I know you're busy and all, being this big-shot doctor, so maybe, you know, you can point me to someone else who could..."

"Peter," Stephen calmly interrupted, "it's all right. If it’s just an hour or two a night, maybe we can make it work. Twice a week, is that all right?"

That ended up being easier than Peter might have expected. It seemed to have caught the boy by surprise.

"Twice a week is...fine! Thanks, doc!" Remembering something important, he ventured "Um...how much are you charging? It's by the hour, right? I've never really had a tutor before, so..."

Stephen shook his head. "May has you send over food when she's made too much. I'll consider this my payment, for her kindness and yours."

“I really appreciate it, doc. Really. So, uh...is now good?”

Stephen blinked.

“Erm...no, not tonight, Peter. It's late and I need to rest. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Peter was already backing away, into the direction of his own front door. “I understand, I’m bothering you, you’re a really busy guy, and I just - really, really appreciate it, doc." He turned to leave. "I-I’ll see you tomorrow night, then, okay?”

Stephen raised his hand for a wave. “Get a good night’s rest, Peter.”

As he watched the boy run off, Stephen wondered what on earth the boy had to be so anxious about. He radiated tension.

Was his problem really about schoolwork?

He wondered why Peter would think of him. Sure, they'd been interacting quite a bit over the past year, but surely there was someone more accessible to Peter who could serve as his tutor - a classmate, perhaps? A more knowledgeable upperclassman in need of extra cash?

Most worryingly, Peter had always struck him as a smart boy - a mathlete, a fixture in academic competitions, and handy with computers. May and some of the other neighbors were even overtly proud of him for it.

For him to suddenly say he was bad at science was...certainly unexpected.

But maybe it was nothing.

Stephen resolved not to think any more about it. He had more urgent concerns. And magic-related concerns just had to throw themselves into the pot.

He set aside his groceries, fired off a final “rest up” text that he was sure Tony wouldn’t answer, then thought about the best approach to his problems.

He could try meditating. He hadn’t meditated in a while.

***

Stephen entered a dream that night.

One of the perks of being a sorcerer (of sorts) was being able to recognize dreams when he had them. It would not feel real immediately.

Another was being able to recognize that the dream he was in, was not his own.

He found himself in a desolate place. Not Earth - it seemed like a barren rock, an asteroid, perhaps. There was no atmosphere. The dark of space surrounded him and he could almost feel its cold.

The first thing he noticed was a roaring noise overhead. He looked up.

An army of worm-like creatures of titanic size dominated the skies. Far underneath them, Stephen felt microscopic.

Stephen wasn't in New York when the alien invasion occurred - the one that introduced the Avengers to the world. But he'd seen the videos. He'd heard the stories from survivors. He knew what those creatures were.

He suddenly knew whose dream this was.

"Tony."

He ran through the rubble, calling out the name.

"Tony!"

He must be somewhere nearby. That was how dream trackers worked - you always ended up somewhere in the immediate proximity of the dreamer.

And he'd apparently cast a dream tracker.

Not an emotion tracker.

Brilliant, Strange. True master of the mystic arts material.

Even as Stephen berated himself, he understood where he went wrong: the procedure was the same - to cast a single-use, single-purpose golden spider that would sink into the skin and magically embed itself into the host.

It was the location he'd gotten wrong. The spider should have crawled down to the left ventricle and stayed there. It shouldn't have crawled all the way up to the cortex. The location should have signaled its purpose.

He blamed a deeply ingrained med school mindset that said emotions were not in the heart, but in the chemicals in the brain.

Being out of practice wreaked havoc in one's lesson recall...but he wasn't in a position to beat himself up too much for it.

He had to find Tony.

This was clearly a nightmare. And that became most apparent when he reached a certain hill -

***

And Tony was there.

At the base of the hill where the bodies of fallen Avengers lay.

Tony was on his knees beside a busted-up Steve Rogers, a stunned look on his face.

Rogers was gripping his arm. He was saying something to Tony. Stephen was too far away to hear.

"TONY!"

Tony turned toward him, wide-eyed, broke free from Rogers' grip to get on his feet.

"...Stephen?" That one word brought out all of his confusion, all of his fear.

Stephen had never seen Tony so afraid.

The look in his eyes said No. No get away they'll get you too

"Tony." He opened his arms as he approached. "It's all right."

"No, don't -"

Stephen muffled that objection in a tight embrace.

Tony collapsed against him. Stephen had no other word for it. Tony was sweating and shaking - an odd state for a dreamer, who was supposed to be disconnected from his body.

But Stephen could hardly argue that now, when there was hardly any strength in Tony's legs.

"I'm here," Stephen said over and over, stroking his hair. "I'm here now, Tony. I've got you."

"I could've saved them," Tony said against his shoulder.

"It's not your fault," Stephen assured him immediately. "None of this is real."

"I could've saved them." It came as a sob now.

Something was going on here. Tony couldn't hear him, or couldn't listen.

This didn't feel like a simple dream. It was a dream, but it also felt like something induced. Something Tony was trapped in.

Magic?

In that case, they had to get out.

Now.

"That's enough," he said firmly. "This is a dream, Tony. None of this is real. Wake up."

***

"Wake up."

The sound of his own voice was the last thing he heard, before he opened his eyes.

It took him a second to get his bearings. He was no longer in a desolate rock in space with Tony. He was in his apartment. In bed. Alone.

Stephen looked at the clock: 2:13 AM.

It would be around 9 AM in Sokovia.

Tony would not have been asleep at 9 AM, not if he was on a mission. So he could not have been having a natural dream.

What the fuck was going on?

Stephen reached for his phone. Tried to reach Tony on speed dial. He knew Tony had his secure personal number patched into his suit, so even if Tony was on a mission he'd see Stephen's call.

There was no answer.

Stephen comforted himself with the thought that if he was awake, that certainly meant Tony was awake, too. Stephen's tracker had dissolved, severing contact, because the dream was over.

And they had both escaped that nightmare.

What mattered to him now was that, like him, Tony should have escaped intact.

But Tony wasn't picking up.

Not for the first time, he fought the excruciating urge to open a portal to where Tony was. If Tony was facing a powerful sorcerer who knew how to mess with his subconscious, he could well be in truly deep shit.

And yet - what would Stephen do, even if he ended the dark ritual currently in effect and portal over?

He couldn't even conjure a weapon, like he'd seen the masters at Kamar-Taj do.

At best, he could provide a momentary distraction for the sorcerer attacking Tony - and then he would die.

And then Tony would hate him for 1) never telling him he could portal, and 2) dying within 2 seconds of coming over.

Yeah. Brilliant.

No...he had to content himself with the thought that Tony could hold his own. He had always done so. He was the smart guy - Stephen's smart guy - and he could get himself out of this.

But his fingers found their way back to his phone's keyboard, and they had already started typing:

It wasn't your fault.

For a long, long time, Stephen stared wordlessly at the letters on the screen.

Then, when he got his head back together, he deleted them.

Tony would return his call when things had settled down for him. And talk to Stephen about the dream if he wanted to. He and Tony talked about nearly everything. No need to complicate matters.

So Stephen shut his eyes tight, gripped his phone, drew in a deep breath.

Exhaled slowly.

He needed to calm down. It was the best thing he could do for Tony at this moment.

[juanita5418638]

Week 10 - The End

It is quite crazy to think this class has come to an end, each week was so interesting and immersive that it genuinely just flew by. Not only have I confirmed my love for industrial design through these exercises but I've gained so much essential knowledge that I will definitely look back at.

Through this course I've learnt the importance of reflection and self-evaluation as I am now able to explore my weaknesses and how to combat them in order to find a solution so to improve in the future. I've gone from making shaky lines with a felt tip pen to having a steadier hand and confidence when drawing lines without the assistance of a ruler or guide and my final drawings have never looked cleaner - they almost look printed.

Being new to 3D forms and software, the later weeks appeared intimidating at first glance but as I had learnt in my first weeks -patience is key. Rather than thinking about rushing to finish so I can upload my weekly post in record time, I allowed myself to (somewhat) forget about the deadline and instead focus on completing each step slowly as to avoid making a mistake. Although yes, this meant I spent a total of two hours just playing with the interface of 3ds Max when I first opened it, I saved myself time in future exercises as I now knew how everything functioned.

I also stayed true to my word and worked on my areas of improvement throughout the weeks and will continue to do so. My YouTube homepage is currently flooded with software tutorials and I recently bought a small book full of drawing ideas and have dedicated 10 minutes every day to sketch a page. This has improved my sketching time significantly and my accuracy is slowly getting better too. I'm currently sketching in pencil but will likely move on to pen soon to make further progress.

I can say with certainty that I will come back to this blog frequently to remember the important techniques and guidelines I've learnt until they finally get engraved onto my brain as they are an important stepping stool for future years of study to come. From technical drawings to model making to 3D printing, I greatly treasure learning about the essentials of industrial design throughout this course.

To finish this off, I do want to recognise that the only reason I was even able to learn thus content and execute it so well was due to the help of the tutors. From detailed exercise instructions to frequently helpful constructive feedback, I never once felt hopeless or like I was unable to complete something. The tutorials were also very informative and engaging although I think that's mainly because of Gonz's pink glasses - they're too nice to ignore.

Thank you to Gonz, Rob and Sarah for such a fantastic course and experience these past ten weeks. I wish it would have lasted a little bit longer but I guess it's now time for me to conclude my final post.

Thank you, goodbye and if you can please do write a comment about how much you appreciate Carl the Capybara from my week 8 post.

El fin

[watusichris]

“Desolation Center“: Joy at Sea

Tonight I’ll be attending a cast and crew screening of “Desolation Center,” Stuart Swezey’s new documentary about the unusual alfresco punk shows he promoted in the early ‘80s. I am a talking head in the picture. Lo and behold, while doing a little poking around on the web, I discovered that 34 years ago to the day today, I attended the event I talk about in the film, aboard a whale-watching boat in San Pedro Harbor. Here’s what I wrote about for the event in the Los Angeles Reader. **********

         The biggest problem with rock ‘n’ roll performances is the wall socket. The music runs on electricity; hence it must be played in basements, garages, dives, and concert halls in which juice can readily be run. Over the years, the rock ‘n’ roll imagination has become hamstrung by a familiar proscenium-arch setting. It’s a thing of the stage and, no matter how much a band gussies things up with flash pots, fog machines, backdrops, and other theatrical gimcracks, we still know that we’ve been looking at a stage at the end of a forty-five minute set.

           Not everybody in the world is happy with this set-up. Take the folks at the Desolation Center. For the last couple of years, mastermind Bruce Licher (the guiding light of Savage Republic and the most artful of local record packagers) and his cohorts have schlepped people out into the middle of the desert by the busload to witness rock ‘n’ roll in its most radical state, played in its most radical environment. Although I never made the Death Valley trek (must have something to do with having seen Erich von Stroheim’s Greed at an early age), I’ve always admired the idea of a rock ‘n’ roll outing – it limbers up the brain by providing a new imaginative context for the performance.

           Last week, the Desolation Center hit on another original idea for taking rock ‘n’ roll out of the nightclub and into the real world: “Joy at Sea,” a three-hour “sea-going musical expedition” held on board a cruise vessel meandering in a circle from San Pedro to Long Beach through the Port of Los Angeles harbor. Since drowning has always been a more appealing way of dying than expiring of thirst as far as I am concerned, I signed on for the tour.

           I approached the journey with some trepidation. Hell, I thought, this could be some kind of punk Pequod. I envisioned myself floating around San Pedro Harbor on the back of a coffin, as my capsized ship was sucked into a whirlpool and Robert Lloyd*, strapped by harpoon lines to the back of a great white whale, screamed, “Springsteen! Springsteen!” as he was carried to his watery doom. Call me Maurice.

           This fantasy proved to be a case of too much Melville. The boat, the S.S. Cormorant, proved to be a sturdy-looking two-tiered cruise vessel; at the stern of the upper deck, a small stage had been erected. Lights and a PA system had been lashed to the sides of the stage. The good-sized boat sat comfortably in the dark, serene water. At the neighboring dock, a group of teenagers sang a loud, drunken rendition of “Happy Birthday” from the back of a small pleasure boat. My nerves calmed, I boarded merrily, washing down two Dramamine with a tap beer, and waited for us to cast off.

           Shortly after 9:30 p.m., the Cormorant glided away from the dock. After a brief interval that allowed the 200-odd passengers to get their sea legs, the South Bay quartet Lawndale started cranking up below decks. They attracted a small group, since most of the assembled crew was jammed together up top, waiting for the Meat Puppets to begin their set. A pity, for Lawndale (in yachting caps and deck shoes) proved to be a completely entertaining neo-surf combo, who tore into their all-instrumental set with a vigor evidently born of the ocean-going setting.

           After Lawndale wound up their brief but refreshing set, I moved upstairs and wedged my way next to the stage. The Meat Puppets were experiencing some technical difficulties, so I had a chance to take in the harbor as we coasted by. The notion of the cruise was plainly anti-romantic: The Port of Los Angeles is the home of heavy industry. One experienced a new sense of scale as the Cormorant sailed past docked oil tankers some three city blocks long; the petroleum refineries glowed an angry yellow in the distance.

          After much fussing and fiddling with their equipment, the Puppets finally got under way again. The set progressed in fits and starts as the overamped trio repeatedly blew out the circuit breakers on the overtaxed vessel, but it proved to be an impressive showing, heightened by the shifting open-air backdrop of the harbor.

           The Meat Puppets are a trio from Arizona fronted by two long-haired, somewhat retarded-looking siblings, guitarist/vocalist Curt Kirkwood and bassist Cris Kirkwood. With drummer Derrick Bostrom, the brothers stir up a fantastic amount of noise; Curt pushed his old gold Les Paul into overdrive. The Puppets have a rep as an on-and-off band, but last Friday they turned in a performance as sharp and bracing as the ocean air.

          The group played a set that alternated between their own microcephalic country material (such as “Split Myself in Two” and the strange Grateful Dead-style instrumental “I’m a Mindless Idiot”) to some bizarre cover tunes. In a wobbly voice that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a sob, Curt Kirkwood essayed Elvis Presley’s “Trouble” and “Good Rockin’ Tonight,” Tony Joe White’s “Polk Salad Annie,” and the Foghat arrangement of “I Just Want to Make Love to You.”

           The musical and visual high point of the evening occurred in the middle of the Puppets’ set. The band launched into a ferocious jam announced as “Enchanted Fortress.” As the music reached its peak, with Bostrom slamming his kit and Curt Kirkwood drawing gnarled, agonized lines from his Gibson, the Cormorant passed under the enormous bridge that links the two sides of the harbor. The structure is so high that the cars crossing it looked like planes flying low over the water. The force of the music and the feeling of motion and immense scale all fused to produce a unique sensation – a moment of joy, just as advertised.

           Somebody on the top deck whooped and set off a signal flare in celebration.

          After the Meat Puppets’ set came to a loud and triumphant close, some of the partiers ventured downstairs to score another beer and check out the “psychoactive sound/visuals” of Points of Friction, which proved to be a minimally interesting low-rent light show projected on a sheet/screen. If it had been a normal concert, this would have been the time to hit the lobby for a cigarette; instead, you could head for the outside areas fore and aft, to gaze at the darkened yachts or yell drunkenly at the diners aboard the sea-going restaurant the Princess Louise. The ennui that is so often a given at a rock concert disappeared, blown away in the mild harbor wind.

          By the time the evening’s headliners, the Minutemen, were ready to play, the top deck resembled a seaworthy version of the Cathay de Grande’s basement, with the audience members shoehorned together in a tight, motionless pack. The little stage looked too small and the lighting buttresses too fragile for the peripatetic Minutemen; I wondered to myself if Dennes Boon, the leaping, bounding mountain who plays guitar for the group, wouldn’t send the whole kaboodle over the side with his elephantine dancing.

           My fears again proved boundless; although bassist Mike Watt stood (somewhat nervously, I thought) behind one of the PA columns to give Boon more room, the gargantuan guitarist didn’t jar the stage loose with his galloping. San Pedro’s greatest contribution to Western Civilization played their customarily brilliant set, featuring crowd-pleasing oldies (including the appropriately nautical “The Anchor”), a devilish 20-second cover of Van Halen’s “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love,” a moving slow version of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Don’t Look Now, It Ain’t You Or Me,” and a generous helping of the new, forty-five song two-record set Double Nickels On the Dime.

          Another grand visual moment came late in the evening. As the Minutemen surged through their lightning-like songs, the Cormorant reached the point where the harbor joined the ocean; as the boat made a wide turn to head back into port, a vast expanse of the Pacific loomed up behind the trio as they steamed through a clipped, thrashing tune. The almost-full moon made the water dance into infinity. For a landlocked rock ‘n’ roller, it was a sight and sound to behold.

           The Cormorant nudged up against the dock while the Minutemen were still playing. The show broke up quickly and I weaved down the gangplank, more than a little drunk and thoroughly exhilarated. It had been a surprisingly perfect evening – no fights, no hassles, no boredom. No seasickness. The combination of the fine music and the shifting seascapes had opened a new window in my head by taking rock ‘n’ roll out of dry-dock and into fresh performance terrain.

           Sign me up for the Desolation Center’s 1990 moon shot. It should be worth the long haul.

*Lloyd, now a TV critic at the Los Angeles Times, was the Springsteen-loving music editor of the LA Weekly. (photos: Ann Summa)

[tanadrin]

This piece seems to connect with @slatestarscratchpad’s recent-ish posts about the brain in a couple interesting ways:

Our shoddy thinking about the brain has deep historical roots, but the invention of computers in the 1940s got us especially confused. For more than half a century now, psychologists, linguists, neuroscientists and other experts on human behaviour have been asserting that the human brain works like a computer.

To see how vacuous this idea is, consider the brains of babies. Thanks to evolution, human neonates, like the newborns of all other mammalian species, enter the world prepared to interact with it effectively. A baby’s vision is blurry, but it pays special attention to faces, and is quickly able to identify its mother’s. It prefers the sound of voices to non-speech sounds, and can distinguish one basic speech sound from another. We are, without doubt, built to make social connections.

...

But here is what we are not born with: information, data, rules, software, knowledge, lexicons, representations, algorithms, programs, models, memories, images, processors, subroutines, encoders, decoders, symbols, or buffers – design elements that allow digital computers to behave somewhat intelligently. Not only are we not born with such things, we also don’t develop them – ever.

We don’t store words or the rules that tell us how to manipulate them. We don’t create representations of visual stimuli, store them in a short-term memory buffer, and then transfer the representation into a long-term memory device. We don’t retrieve information or images or words from memory registers. Computers do all of these things, but organisms do not.

Computers, quite literally, process information – numbers, letters, words, formulas, images. The information first has to be encoded into a format computers can use, which means patterns of ones and zeroes (‘bits’) organised into small chunks (‘bytes’). On my computer, each byte contains 8 bits, and a certain pattern of those bits stands for the letter d, another for the letter o, and another for the letter g. Side by side, those three bytes form the word dog. One single image – say, the photograph of my cat Henry on my desktop – is represented by a very specific pattern of a million of these bytes (‘one megabyte’), surrounded by some special characters that tell the computer to expect an image, not a word.

...

Perhaps you will object to this demonstration. Jinny had seen dollar bills before, but she hadn’t made a deliberate effort to ‘memorise’ the details. Had she done so, you might argue, she could presumably have drawn the second image without the bill being present. Even in this case, though, no image of the dollar bill has in any sense been ‘stored’ in Jinny’s brain. She has simply become better prepared to draw it accurately, just as, through practice, a pianist becomes more skilled in playing a concerto without somehow inhaling a copy of the sheet music. 

...

As we navigate through the world, we are changed by a variety of experiences. Of special note are experiences of three types: (1) we observe what is happening around us (other people behaving, sounds of music, instructions directed at us, words on pages, images on screens); (2) we are exposed to the pairing of unimportant stimuli (such as sirens) with important stimuli (such as the appearance of police cars); (3) we are punished or rewarded for behaving in certain ways.

We become more effective in our lives if we change in ways that are consistent with these experiences – if we can now recite a poem or sing a song, if we are able to follow the instructions we are given, if we respond to the unimportant stimuli more like we do to the important stimuli, if we refrain from behaving in ways that were punished, if we behave more frequently in ways that were rewarded.

...

A few cognitive scientists – notably Anthony Chemero of the University of Cincinnati, the author of Radical Embodied Cognitive Science (2009) – now completely reject the view that the human brain works like a computer. The mainstream view is that we, like computers, make sense of the world by performing computations on mental representations of it, but Chemero and others describe another way of understanding intelligent behaviour – as a direct interaction between organisms and their world.

My favourite example of the dramatic difference between the IP perspective and what some now call the ‘anti-representational’ view of human functioning involves two different ways of explaining how a baseball player manages to catch a fly ball – beautifully explicated by Michael McBeath, now at Arizona State University, and his colleagues in a 1995 paper in Science. The IP perspective requires the player to formulate an estimate of various initial conditions of the ball’s flight – the force of the impact, the angle of the trajectory, that kind of thing – then to create and analyse an internal model of the path along which the ball will likely move, then to use that model to guide and adjust motor movements continuously in time in order to intercept the ball.

That is all well and good if we functioned as computers do, but McBeath and his colleagues gave a simpler account: to catch the ball, the player simply needs to keep moving in a way that keeps the ball in a constant visual relationship with respect to home plate and the surrounding scenery (technically, in a ‘linear optical trajectory’). This might sound complicated, but it is actually incredibly simple, and completely free of computations, representations and algorithms.

I disupute the strength with which the author makes some of those assertions; plainly, information is "stored" in the brain in *some* sense, even if that sense is not at all like how a hard drive stores information, and viewing the mechanism of storage as being a kind of patterned behavior response rather than a straightforward recording of information is probably more useful. It also goes a long way towards explaining why recall might be easier in some circusmtances than others--but plainly people can recall information is very different circumstances from which they learned it, so our ability to (say) recite a poem or draw a dollar bill isn't entirely contingent on the exact conditions preceding a particular memory task being given to us. There are also elements of this approach that remind me of behaviorism: nothing is information processing, everything is particular (habituated) response to stimuli, which sort of ignores all the time we spend thinking about thinking and all the time we spend actually manipulating symbolic information (like, language is nothing *but* symbolic representation; if the brain doesn't do that, it doesn't do language).

But the general point I accept: the brain really *isn't* anything like a computer. To me, though, that makes me less despair about neuroscience than excited about artificial intelligence. If computers are never destined to think like we do, that means any intelligence we build is probably going to function very differently from us. Will "intelligence" (as we use the term to refer to humans) even be a meaningful label? Will it be conscious in anything like the way we are? It should be very interesting to find out.

[ongsniel]

[request] you taste so bitter (and sweet)

AUTHOR: ongniels (ali) FANDOM: WANNA ONE/Produce 101 RATING: PG-13 PAIRING: Lai Guanlin/Park Jihoon WORD COUNT: 4,5k WARNING:  SUMMARY:  Three times Guanlin is stressed/frustrated and is comforted by one of the WANNA ONE members, leaving Jihoon jealous, and one time Jihoon gets to console the younger boy.

[AO3]

1.

Guanlin isn’t usually the type to get stressed – or at least not when he was living in Taiwan, but ever since he joined Produce 101 and then subsequently got to debut with the program’s final idol group, that has changed.

Every time he enters the practice room he feels somewhat suffocated, mind going as fast it can, trying to learn all the different moves and memorize all of them plus where he has to stand while doing them. On a good day, he only comes out after having one mental breakdown, on a bad one, like today, he is immensely exhausted after not having even gotten one move right.

He knows his members don’t judge him for it. They always tell him that and try to help him when they notice he’s struggling but he can’t help but feel guilty when he sees how behind they are on their training schedule, mostly thanks to him.

When he enters the car, he sits down next to the window, resting his head on it. Guanlin welcomes the coldness of the glass, he closes his eyes to cherish the feeling fully.

“Hey, are you alright?” Jihoon whispers, suddenly sitting next to him, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Guanlin just nods, returning the boy’s smile with a weak one of his own, not really in the mood to speak in Korean, even more so because he isn’t sure if he can bring out a sentence that would make sense.  

Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind his silence. He just rests his head on Guanlin’s shoulder, Jihoon’s hand taking a hold of his and intertwining their fingers together. Jihoon softly strokes his thumb over Guanlin’s knuckles for a few minutes until he falls asleep.

Guanlin takes comfort in their usual skinship, sighing as he looks out the window.

***

Their arrival at the dorm doesn’t take long. All of the members pour out of the van in different volumes of loudness and in different states of sleepiness. Guanlin is more on the quiet and awake side while Seongwoo, who is being half-carried by Daniel, is on the “I’m about to pass out” side of the scale. The younger feels guilty because he knows Seongwoo is this tired because he had helped Guanlin all afternoon, tried to appease the angry choreographer and had to learn the new dance himself too.

The guilt makes his fists clench.

Jisung opens the door for them, shushing them so they don’t wake up the neighbors. Their manager checks out the hallways, looking for any lurking fans, and then, when he sees no one is there, leads them up the stairs.

They enter the dorm quietly and agree for Minhyun, Daniel and Seongwoo to use the bathroom first. Guanlin really doesn’t mind, he is pretty sure he isn’t going to be washing up today, anyway.

He follows Woojin into their room, takes his blankets and pillows and goes back to the living room. Jisung looks at him confusedly, mouthing a “what are you doing?” as he sees him lay down on the couch.

“I’m sleeping here tonight,” he mutters, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth.

“I see that, but why?” Jisung asks, furrowing his brows at him. “We’ve got a really long day tomorrow. You should rest well and comfortably. You’re way too big for this couch, Guanlin!”

“I don’t deserve sleeping on my bed today,” he replies, fidgeting with his fingers. “I kept all of you from learning the second half of the song and made a lot of mistakes, I don’t… I should sleep on the couch, as a punishment, so that I do better next time.”

Jisung just shakes his head, wrapping his arm around one of Guanlin’s shoulder while he rests his chin on the other one.

“Guanlin, seriously, no,” the older boy says as he starts to draw circles on his arm. “None of us were in our right mind today and made a lot of mistakes. We didn’t move on because we weren’t ready for it, Jesus, even Woojin couldn’t dance properly today. You don’t have to feel guilty at all.”

“But –“Guanlin wants to reply but Jisung doesn’t let him.

“No buts,” he quips. “You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

***

In the end, Guanlin really does sleep on Jisung’s bed – Jihoon looks at him weirdly as he leaves his own room, saying that he is going to spend the night with their leader.

Jisung cuddles him like a little baby, lulling him to sleep with his endless talking, stupid jokes and soft pats on his back. It makes him relax. Seongwoo and Daniel, who are sleeping together in the other bed, also comfort him, telling him how proud they are of him for improving so much in such a short time.

The last thing Guanlin says before he sleeps is “thank you for comforting me, everyone, I love you”.

2.

There are three things Guanlin needs to have to be completely happy. The first one is, of course, his family and friends (technically he knows they are two different things but he puts them into one category anyway).

The second thing is food. Without food he wouldn’t be able to survive and most of it tastes pretty damn amazing, plus it gives him enough energy to go through his tight schedule.

The last one is sleep but that’s exactly what he hasn’t gotten in the past week.

All of them go from schedule to schedule and then, when they finish that, they go to practice and lessons, when those two things end too, he has to go to his Korean class. He’s glad he hasn’t gotten the same tight schedule as Daniel and Jihoon, although he feels just a tad bit jealous, because he would probably faint from exhaustion if he had.

The most hours of sleep he has gotten this week were three. It’s safe to say that he is pretty done with his life. He even keeps nodding off in between of their training breaks, which is unusual for him.

If he could, he would immediately drive to their dorm and face palm straight into his bed, not getting up for the next two months. It doesn’t help that today out of all days, they had to shoot a commercial and the advertiser wants him to dance “handsomely”.

He has been wrecking his brain for at least ten minutes trying to think how to dance so the advertisers feel satisfied. Guanlin feels a foreign feeling spreading throughout his body.

His heartbeat starts to quicken, he feels a bit dizzy and kind of like he can’t breathe, millions of thoughts cluttering his brain. He knows he is slowly losing control over them. Most of his thoughts don’t even end before the next one comes only milliseconds later.

“Hey, are you okay?” Guanlin knows this voice, Jihoon.

“Uh, yeah, y- yeah,” he mutters, sucking in a deep breathe without looking at the older boy and making his way into the waiting room, sitting down on the couch, taking a hold of his knees, trying to calm himself down.

“You’re pale, do you want some water?” Guanlin glances up to see Seongwoo in front of him, kind smile and frown on his face. “You good?”

“Yes, very good, very relaxed,” he hates his accent for betraying him – the members know that whenever his accent gets thicker, he is nervous and this time is not any different, he is nervous, anxious even.

“Okay, kiddo, tell me what’s up,” Seongwoo sits down next to him, easily wrapping himself around Guanlin like an octopus, weirdly, it makes him calm down. “I’m all ears.”

“W-Well, I’m feeling angsty,” Guanlin answers, looking anywhere but at Seongwoo, who begins to caress his back comfortingly. “They told me to d–dance ‘handsomely’! I can’t even dance p-properly on a g-good day!”

Instead of what Guanlin had expected (e.g. a warm smile, a clap on the shoulder telling him not to worry about anything, maybe an offer to help him) Seongwoo laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs. It makes him feel betrayed because he had just opened up to him and this is the responds he gets. He can’t help but ball his fists again, neatly cut nails piercing his skin.

“Guanlin, hey, look at me,” Seongwoo says, placing his hands on Guanlin’s cheek.

He tries not to actually look at the older boy, even holds out for a whole minute, before Seongwoo gets tired of waiting – Guanlin is impressed he held out such a long time – and firmly, but carefully, guides Guanlin’s face with his hands so that they are staring into each other’s eyes.

“No matter how weirdly or stupidly you would dance in front of them,” Seongwoo begins with a soft smile. “You still would look handsome anyway.”

Guanlin feels himself blush at the compliment. He averts his eyes from Seongwoo’s face again but this time he is not mad, he feels happy.  Happy at being praised by his band mate.

“Exactly, this smile is perfect,” Seongwoo laughs, excitedly bouncing on the couch. “If you look at the camera with this gummy smile while you dance, believe me kid, you’ll have thousands of girls swooning after you.”

Guanlin shakes his head, face even redder than before as he laughs along with the older boy.

Seongwoo lets go of his cheeks and instead engulfs him in a playful hug, swinging from side to side whilst they sit on the couch, stopping when he spots Daniel and Jihoon watching them from the door, Daniel with his trademark bunny smile and Jihoon with – with that weird look again. Guanlin doesn’t know what it means.

“What did you do to the poor boy that he is this red?” Daniel asks as he joins them on sofa, arm easily wrapping around Seongwoo’s shoulder.

Jihoon stays at the door, his arms crossed as he watches the scene play out in front of him. Guanlin tries to catch his eyes, to ask if everything’s alright, but he can’t.

“Oh you know, showering him with compliments to charm him,” Seongwoo responds, for a second letting himself melt into Daniel’s side before he stands up again. “I’d love to keep cuddling here with you, Mr. Kang, but Mr. Lai and I have some business to attend.”

Seongwoo has Guanlin’s hand in his hold in less than a second, then he tugs the younger boy to his feet and drags him out of the room, Guanlin’s shoulder slightly touching Jihoon’s, as Jihoon turns around to look at them.

“Now, now, I’ll teach you some popping for your CF, yeah?” Seongwoo beams at Guanlin with a toothy grin. “Pay attention.”

“Before that,” Guanlin interrupts suddenly. “Thank you.”

The older boy waves him off happily and proceeds to try and fit ten years of popping knowledge in two minutes.

3.

Guanlin stares at the item in his hands incredulously. He can’t believe it – It… it’s broken.

He can already feel tears threatening to spill as he keeps looking at it.

Guanlin touches the torn paper, trying to figure out a way to repair it – to make it whole again – to make all the pieces of broken glass become one again – to let the faces on the picture be recognizable again – to see his mothers face reflecting back at him with a large smile again.

His shoulders shake with almost sobs as he touches all of the picture’s pieces, trying to find them all in the clutter full of glass, tiny pieces of wood from the frame and at least a dozen pieces of paper.

“Guanlin…” a soft voice from behind him says.

He knows all the members are looking at the mess he is right now, looking at him as he loses the last piece of his sanity. Guanlin doesn’t turn around, frantically collecting the pieces of photo paper from the floor.

A hand on of his own stops him. When he looks up to see who it is, Minhyun is looking back at him with worried eyes.

“You’re bleeding,” the older boy points out as he lifts Guanlin’s hand from the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Guanlin can’t find it in himself to protest, so he just nods. Numbly standing up and letting Minhyun drag him through the crowded door – all of the members looking at him with pity – and to the bathroom.

Minhyun makes him sit down on the rim of the bathtub while he searches for disinfectant, some cotton and a band aid. It doesn’t take long for him to take Guanlin’s uninjured hand again and ask him to grit his teeth while he washes the wound with water.

Guanlin is in a trance-like state while Minhyun then softly dries, disinfects and puts the band aid on his right hand. He doesn’t feel anything.

“You know you can cry if you want,” Minhyun suddenly says, cautiously looking at Guanlin from under his eyelashes. “We won’t judge you for crying. We know how precious that picture was to you.”

Once again, Guanlin doesn’t answer. He just looks down at the floor in front of him, biting his lips as he tries to suppress his emotions, to not let them out, to not let them win over him. Of course he’s sad, that picture… it was the only printed out photo he had of his family. His father had sweated bullets while trying to sneak it in when he came to visit him on the Produce 101 set. It was the only thing that he had to remember them now that his phone was taken away, his only connection to them.

“I… I just don’t understand,” Guanlin whispers, finally looking up at Minhyun. “What does this person gain from breaking into our dorm and destroying our things? Destroying that picture?”

“I don’t know, Guanlin,” Minhyun sighs, smiling sadly. “Some people do shitty things for no reason.”

He nods, his sadness now being replaced by anger.

“But don’t worry, the managers will find out who did this,” Minhyun tells him, hand now comfortingly on Guanlin’s shoulder. “We’ll also find a way to print out another one, I’m sure Seongwoo can use his handsome face to convince the manager to let us go out to a cyber café or something.”

Guanlin smiles at that, grateful that Minhyun is looking out for him, even if the person who had broke into the house had also destroyed some of his personal items, like the teddy bear he had gotten from Jonghyun or the letters from the NU’EST members.

When they go out of the bathroom, Jihoon and Jisung are on the couch. The moment he sees them, Guanlin knows they had been nervously waiting to see if he’s okay. While Jisung looks relieved when he spots Guanlin coming out with a small smile on his lips, Jihoon stares at him with squinted eyes.

He brushes it off, not wanting to try to find out what it is at the moment, and just sends him a small grin his way.

+1.

Weeks pass before Guanlin feels something akin to sadness again.

The group is busy with various shoots (variety and music shows, some photo- and CF shoots as well), recording for their next comeback in late September and practicing another new choreography that he is so exhausted that he always just comes straight home, crashes onto his bed and immediately falls asleep without washing up.

Thankfully though, some of the members get time off on a Wednesday while Daniel, Seongwoo, Jisung and Minhyun go to film another variety. Most of them take the opportunity to go visit their families, the managers giving them a ride, leaving Guanlin alone in their dorm.

At first he had welcomed the silence since it didn’t happen quite often in a dorm full of 11 boys but well, after a while it had become too deafening and boring. He misses the usual amount of noise

Right now, he is lying in his bed, back towards the door as he looks at the wall with the newly printed out picture of his family. Guanlin looks at their faces again and again; sometimes he even traces their features with his fingers.  

He curls in on himself as he stares at his sister’s face. Who would have thought that he would miss her this much?

Ever since they were kids they had fought every day, no matter about what. There was no day his mother wouldn’t have to mediate between the two of them either because of a toy, stolen food or one of them having slapped the other. This continued up to their teens, Guanlin always teasing his sister for having a new boyfriend every other month while his sister spread his childhood videos around his school to pay him back for the teasing.

He laughs at the memories, noticing only at this moment how stupid their fights were. How much better they could have spent their time together, how much more Guanlin could have shown his appreciation for her.

Before he knows it, he has silent, hot tears running down his face. If anyone was in the dorm, he would wipe them away as fast as possible and ignore any lingering homesickness, but since he’s completely alone, Guanlin lets them flow down his cheeks in a steady stream.

His smiling mom catches his attention then. Just by looking at her, he can almost smell her cooking – Jesus, he misses it so much. No matter how much he liked Korean cuisine, nobody could win against his mother’s food. She is the best cook Guanlin has ever met. He wishes he could eat it again, that he could eat it while looking at her running around in the kitchen, asking him if it’s tasty over and over again until he answers, that he could it eat while she smiles down at him and pats his head as she complements him for eating the food so well.

Guanlin’s tears are now beginning to be accompanied by quite sobs. He turns around in his bed, leaving the picture on the other side, trying to stop himself from crying as he sits up. No matter what he does, he won’t be able to meet her anyway.

“Guanlin?” he hears a voice shout out from the living room.

He is terrified when he listens to it. Guanlin doesn’t want the other boy to see him like this, to see him being emotional over some picture.

Even if he wants to answer, he can’t. Another sob escapes his lips without him wanting too.

“Are you in here? I brought you some Taiwanese –,” Jihoon stops at the door, the bag in his hand falling to the floor as he spots Guanlin on the bed.

The younger boy is pretty sure that the sight Jihoon is seeing is nowhere near pleasant nor pretty, what with Guanlin’s bed mussed hair, puffy, swollen eyes and red cheeks. He grabs a pillow from his bed and tries to hide himself behind it, avoiding the other boy’s eyes.

Jihoon is in front of him in less than five seconds, his right hand removing the pillow in one swift motion before he knees in front of Guanlin, worried eyes scanning the younger boy up and down, trying to figure out if he’s hurt anywhere.

Guanlin shakes his head as if to silently answer the question. He is so, so tired of crying alone.

He throws himself into the older boy’s arms. Jihoon is taken aback for a minute, almost losing his balance but he seems to catch himself in time for the both of them not to fall on the floor.

Guanlin buries his face into the crook of Jihoon’s neck, sobbing silently as he hugs him. Jihoon just wordlessly embraces him back, caressing his hair as he whispers sweet nothings into Guanlin’s ears. For some unexplainable reason, Jihoon’s voice calms him down like some healing balm for his heart.  

It takes a lot of time for Guanlin to finally calm down but Jihoon sticks with him through it all, hugging him tightly until he stops crying and isn’t holding onto the older like he’s his only lifeline.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”  Jihoon whispers.

“Homesick,” Guanlin mumbles, his answer muffled by Jihoon’s shirt but he’s still pretty sure Jihoon is able to catch it because he replies to Guanlin’s statement with a soft “ah”.

“I don’t know if it helps but I… My mom made some Taiwanese soup for you, she said she was sure that you’d be missing home if all of us had left you home alone to visit our families,” he tells him, Guanlin knows he must be smiling by the tone of his voice. “She scolded me for that, too, you know, told me to bring you home with me the next time.”

Guanlin laughs at that, Jihoon’s mother had always been great to him.

“Do you… do you want to eat it, Guanlin?” Jihoon asks, carefully dissolving the hug to look directly into Guanlin’s eyes.

Instead of replying, he just nods, a smile forming on his lips.

He lets go of Jihoon, standing up from the floor and helping the other do so, too. Jihoon grabs the bag he threw down on their way to the kitchen with one hand while he holds Guanlin’s own hand with the other.

Jihoon makes him sit down on one of the chairs in the kitchen while he warms up the food in the microwave. It doesn’t take long before he brings it to him. He sets it down in front of Guanlin and hands him a spoon. Guanlin knows the other is nervously waiting for him to taste it.

He recognizes the soup to be a beef noodle soup, one his mother used to make on his father’s birthday since it was his favourite. He sighs contently as he eats a spoonful. It feels just like home.

“Thank you,” he says when he is done eating; he had finished the soup in only five minutes.

“No problem,” Jihoon grins at him. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, much better,” Guanlin beams triumphantly. “But it’s all thanks to you and your mom’s soup, I owe you!”

Jihoon waves him off and glances at him with bright eyes, his grin sincere.

Somehow while staring into the other’s eyes, Guanlin is reminded of the weird way Jihoon had looked at him lately. He figures that since no one is here anyway, it’s the best time to ask about it.

“Jihoon, I wanted to ask you something,” Guanlin announces, cautiously analyzing Jihoon’s reaction but not sensing anything out of the ordinary. “You’ve been looking at me with this… unusual glimpse in your eyes these past weeks, but only in certain occasions, is something wrong?”

Guanlin can see the way Jihoon tenses in front of him. The older boy gapes at him for a few minutes ere he stands up and points at the living room. He gets up too, following him to the couch.

“What… do you mean exactly?” Jihoon queries, squinting his eyes at him warily.

“Well, you have this strange look in your eyes and I can’t figure it out, but I don’t see it very often,” Guanlin admits, his tongue swipes over his lips as he tries to remember when he saw the look on Jihoon’s face. “Like when I slept over at Jisung’s after I was feeling down because of practice or when Seongwoo and I were on the couch at the Yo-Hai CF shooting…. Oh! It also happened when Minhyun and I got out of the bathroom after what happened with that fan.”

When he looks at Jihoon, he is aware that the older boy knows exactly what Guanlin is talking about.

“Well….” Guanlin patiently waits for Jihoon to answer, putting a hand on the other’s knee, encouraging him to talk with gentle caresses. “I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” he repeats.

“Yeah, jealous, I was just… really… really jealous,” Jihoon smiles sheepishly at him.

“But why?” the younger boy can’t help but ask.

“I wanted to be the one that’s there for you when you are sad,” he admits, Jihoon’s hand now on top of Guanlin’s. “I wanted to comfort you after practice and cuddle with you until you felt better, I wanted you to open up to me about what was happening during the CF. I also felt kind of bad because I asked you if you were okay and you… seemed not to want to talk to me. That time with Minhyun, I just felt really bad because I didn’t reach out to you when you needed me the most. Seeing someone else provide you with that comfort made me feel unreasonably mad.”

Guanlin takes in all of the information, trying to understand everything. He, surprisingly, feels proud for being able to make Jihoon jealous because of stuff like that, like he has come one step closer to making his unrequited crush not as one-sided.

“Why didn’t you talk to me when you were sad or angry?” Jihoon snaps him out of his thoughts.

He already knows that he has a blush on his face (the tip of his ears are probably red from embarrassment, too). Just like Jihoon was before, he gapes at the other for a few seconds.

“Because I don’t want you to see me sad,” Guanlin confesses with a defeated sigh. “Since I like you, I only want to show you cool and funny sides of me.”

Jihoon laughs at him, nose crinkling cutely. Guanlin doesn’t know if he’s laughing because Guanlin just confessed his feeling and is being ridiculous or because he… is happy.

“Ah, I’m so stupid,” Jihoon breathes out between giggles. “I like you, too! We could have been together for such a long time if we had talked about this earlier!”

Guanlin finds himself laughing, too. Nervousness replaced by giddiness and butterflies in his stomach. He catches the sight of their hands, Jihoon’s on top of his, and then intertwines their fingers, happy with the view in front of him.

“Hey, now that we know we like each other,” Jihoon begins after his laughing ceases. “Please… talk to me when you’re sad. I will try my best to comfort and love you.”

Guanlin smiles down at his lap while nodding, squeezing Jihoon’s hand softly.

***

The next time Guanlin feels homesick – after the hosts of a certain variety had asked one too many questions about his family and Taiwan, he immediately seeks out Jihoon when they arrive at the dorm, wrapping himself around the boy like an octopus until he feels like he can breathe again.

Jihoon just looks at him warmly as he steers them towards Guanlin’s bed, promising to ask his mother for another one of those soups and praising him for coming to him while they cuddle.

As they are snuggled up to each other, Jihoon sprawled all over Guanlin; he thanks all of his lucky stars for the present that is Park Jihoon in his life.

[saya-secondlife]

Kokoro: The Challenges Ahead

This is a technical post relating to Kokoro Academy, please feel free to scroll past if long paragraphs of technical stuff aren’t your jam, I’m more or less using this as somewhere to throw my brain down :)

Despite my hiatus, my friends are helping to push the school forward, with lots of work going towards the town island. Jinx, Ishiko and Taruna have been planning out the Town island and using more detailed mesh so that we have a good sense of what the town might look like one day, Nihara, my partner who is a very talented mesh modeller is helping out to bring us new unique props so that the school.

Kokoro was not created just to be a scenic simulator on Secondlife.  One of the things I’d like is that as a school, we can provide valuable life skills to people who might otherwise never get the opportunity.

Teaching in Secondlife with present day technology is difficult and somewhat clunky. There are many problems that need to be addressed. You can’t easily create and display power points in Secondlife, draw on surfaces without it being a mess or disappearing after 60 seconds because the only way in-world pens work is with temp-on-rez.

Many people would say to me, ‘Ah, but what about those fancy browsers on a prim?’ - And, you would be right to look in that direction, but media-on-a-prim today kiiinda sucks. You see, Media on a prim only takes whatever URL is at the top of the window, and sends it to everyone. It does not update when you scroll, or if you click ‘play’ on a video, it only happens on your screen. A classroom of 30 people looking at a paused video whilst a teacher stands silently is not a learning classroom.

So, what exactly do I want to do about it? The answer is a little bit complicated, and yet awfully simple at the same time. To put it as simply as I can; I want to stream a computer to Secondlife, and let you interact with it as though it were a normal computer. It’d be just like using a real computer, because, well, you are!

Streaming computer screens is nothing new. Any systems administrator will be familiar with the likes of Remote Admin tools like Remote Desktop for Windows, and some particularly nerdy people will sit their nodding at the mention of ‘SSH’.

So, why am I writing about this? The simple thing is, I’ve been thinking about how I can make my development Haitus on Kokoro, into something for Kokoro. As I posted before, I need to make more money. I’m thinking about starting up a desktop streaming company. I think it would have an awful lot of use cases from Education to helping commercial business’s guide customers around their websites. It might be a chance for me to make an open source project and use it to teach people programming in the future. I’m not sure yet. It’s just a thought.