Carl the Animator: “It’s a deep, complex, and fleshed-out love story, conveyed entirely in 5 derps.”
Ted the Animator: “A classic tale. Boy discovers Mr. Hyde tied him up, boy is worried, boy finds that three-inch green chin is growing on him, boy searches his feelings, boy realizes he wants to be Mr. Mr. Hyde.”
Carl the Animator: “…was that all a setup for that one joke at the end?”
Ted the Animator: “Yes, and I’m darn proud of it.”
Summary: The “Do you love him?” scene, but gayer. Michael’s POV. In which Mr. Heere ain’t no fool, but he is father of the year.
Word Count: 1,147
AN: I know 0 things about weed and this is mad tacky so bear w/me, lmao. I don’t really know where I was going with this, I just wanted to add more Drama™. When I started I had a sequel planned, but I’ve since forgotten how that was gonna go…so, if you want a sequel, hmu and give me ideas!
He’d hoped it would feel better, burning this stuff. He’d been just high enough when he stormed inside to grab it that he hadn’t stopped to consider whether it was a good idea. But now, watching the limited edition Magic: the Gathering card shrivel and blacken in the ashcan, it kinda just felt overdramatic.
And maybe he regretted it, just a little.
No, he couldn’t think that. He was angry with Jeremy. Jeremy had been treating him like he was nothing for months now. Squip or no squip, Michael couldn’t allow himself to roll over and forgive that. Jeremy was the one who’d burned everything they had. Michael was just finishing the job.
WinterIron, 21 "You knocked on my door at 1 in the morning,to cuddle?
When the knock came, Bucky sat up, jerked out of a dead sleep, and pointed a gun at the door.
“Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS said softly, “Sir is on the other side of that door. I would appreciate it if you refrained from shooting him.”
Bucky blinked, still half-asleep, and slowly put the gun down. He threw the covers back and got up, wincing as his feet made contact with the cold floor. He hopped a little as he unlocked and opened the door.
“Stark? What the hell are you doing?”
Tony looked up at him, eyes hazy, and didn’t say a word. He did, however, lift his arms up like he was looking for a hug.
“…. You knocked on my door at 1 in the morning to cuddle?”
Still nothing. Tony just stood there, arms still open. Bucky looked at him a little more closely and realized that Tony wasn’t actually awake. He’d heard about this from Steve. Apparently, when Tony’s insomnia got really bad, he was prone to sleepwalking.
One time Natasha caught him trying to walk off the roof.
“You’re sleepwalking,” Bucky muttered, refusing to feel disappointed. He rubbed his face and sighed, deciding that he better escort Tony back to his floor, when Tony suddenly walked past right past him and into the room.
“Hey! Wait, what are you - Stark!” Bucky squeaked as Tony climbed right into his bed and laid down. He promptly went so still that Bucky crept closer, half-afraid he now had a dead genius in his bed.
But no. Tony was still breathing. And in his bed.
Out of all the scenarios that Bucky had imagined where Tony ended up in his bed, this was not one of them.
how to not be an asshole and still maintain your moral standards
because it seems that for a lot of people there’s nothing in-between “I don’t like x thing because it’s bad for x reason and if you disagree then you are evil scum” and “yeah sure do whatever you want!!! give everyone a chance to express their creativity/opinions no matter what!!!!”
1. Know your shit.
One of the easiest things to do is to make yourself look like an idiot because you didn’t bother to look for more information. Before you form your opinion, be sure to rationally look at both sides of an argument and do as much fact-checking you can before you give your input. This goes for anything. Politics, shipping discourse, what have you.
(something to note: not everything works the same in other countries as it does in your country.)
2. If necessary, make a distinction between what is genuinely harmful/derogatory and what upsets you personally.
This is important especially when someone asks you how you feel about a certain subject. There is a difference between Actual Pedophilia and “there is nothing Technically wrong with this ship but the age gap is big enough that the potential for a power-imbalance bothers me greatly, and I want no part of this”.
3. Don’t start shit.
Callout posts, angry messages, and witch hunts. Anon or not, just don’t do it. You might think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re probably just going to make people want to spite you instead of listen. Calling someone names or telling someone to kill themself is shitty.
Also, don’t infest someone’s tag with opinions they don’t want to see. If you feel the need to vent but don’t want to start discourse, use read mores and slashes inbetween words (li//ke thi//s) so that it won’t show up in the tag.
Now, I’m not saying you have to be completely passive about things you don’t like, but there are other things you can do to avoid them, like…..
4. Just block people.
Let me say this again.
JUST. BLOCK. PEOPLE.
Or unfollow them. It’s super easy. One click, and they’re gone.
You’re allowed to have opinions. So are other people. And guess what, you don’t have to look at them. Shocker.
If you’re going to post something and it would make you uncomfortable if people gave it context that you specifically don’t like, say it. State it clearly,and let people know that if they do it anyway, they’ll get blocked.
Think of it this way: if you throw a party and someone shows up and starts doing things and telling jokes etc that make you uncomfortable, what do you do? You don’t invite them to the next party. And if they weren’t invited to begin with, then you take extra precaution to make sure they don’t come again.
Remember, it’s your blog. It’s your party. You’re the host, and yeah you want to make sure your guests are happy, but you can still set boundaries. How much tolerance you have is up to you.
(see also: blacklist. I’ve surprisingly never used it. But it can very easily control what kinds of content you see or don’t see.)
5. Be patient.
If someone is doing something harmful, it’s possible they just don’t know better. People are limited by their life experiences and might not know to think differently because they never knew they could.
People change. What were you like a year ago? Five years ago? Ten years ago? I highly doubt that you’re proud of everything you’ve said and done in the past. There were jokes I’ve said and things I’ve liked that I would never dream of saying now.
This is why I think it’s so, so important to not immediately condemn someone. People don’t often make complete 180s, so don’t expect them to. People don’t like being told they’re wrong, and might need take some time to sort out their thoughts/unlearn their behavior before substantial change happens. Does this excuse their behavior? No, of course not. Even without ill-intent, people can absolutely still do damage.
6. Know when to speak.
This can go a lot of ways. Certain fights aren’t yours to fight. Don’t talk over anyone else. Admit when you don’t know enough about something to give a proper opinion. Recognize when something isn’t worth the time or energy.
Also: learn to recognize traps. People will try to send “gotchas” disguised as innocent questions. These are usually done with the intent of twisting your words and making you sound problematic no matter your response. Even if you’re not sure, just don’t respond. Avoid confrontation and discourse whenever you can. Resist being petty if you know that it’d just start more drama.
That’s it. I hope y’all can go out and try to be decent people. Have fun. Your internet experience is up to you. You don’t need to make it someone else’s responsibility.
nine is the highest single digit, representing the highest achievable stat. in many rpgs, 9,999 (or similar) is the damage cap. it represents strength. it represents power. it represents “the absolute”. there are many allusions to the number nine within undertale, some more subtle than others. however, most share the distinction of being specifically related to chara.
so, where do they show up? where are the nines?
at lv 20, hp is 99. atk maxes at 99, max def is 99, max gold is 9,999, and max exp is 99,999. atk and def are reliant on weapon/armour and gold does not need to max out in the genocide route. the only thing chara mentions that cannot include nines at max is LOVE, which is 20 at the highest. sans, the final genocide battle, is fought at lv 19, though.
➋ the locket and the real knife
related to stats. the locket and the real knife provide 99 def and 99 atk respectively.
on the other hand, the heart locket and the worn dagger both provide 15 to their respective stat. only when chara is in control of frisk’s body does this gear feature the number nine.
➌ sans’ deathblow
at the end of the fight with sans, the player can attempt to strike him when he’s sleeping, but it’ll miss. just as sans attempts to mock the player for this, another slash strikes him and fully connects.
as the player has not issued the attack, it seems that only chara could have done it (”SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTROL?”). chara’s devastating attack flashes all nines.
➍ attacking asgore
before asgore can even finish his speech, he’s struck down by a slash. like with sans, the player doesn’t issue this attack. it is presumably chara’s doing.
➎ erasing the world
by far the most obvious case of the number nine. whether or not the player agrees to it, chara will destroy the world at the end of the genocide route. when this occurs, the screen is covered in nines and shakes from side to side.
➏ pacifist-neutral: asgore
if asgore is fought in a neutral route where monsters have been killed, the “talk” ACT will produce only one line of dialogue (unless frisk has been killed by him previously):
But there was nothing to say.
however, if no monsters have been killed, the “talk” ACT will cycle through a number of things each time it is used. the first one depends on whether frisk has died to asgore or not,
but the proceeding dialogue continues as usual.
1.) You quietly tell ASGORE you don’t want to fight him. His hands tremble for a moment. 2.) You tell ASGORE that you don’t want to fight him. His breathing gets funny for a moment. 3.) You firmly tell ASGORE to STOP fighting. Recollection flashes in his eyes… ASGORE’s ATTACK dropped! ASGORE’s DEFENSE dropped! 4.) Seems talking won’t do any more good.
eventually, “seems talking won’t do any more good” just comes up over and over. until the ninth “talk”, that is.
on the ninth “talk”, the flavour text reads: “all you can do is FIGHT”. interestingly, it never occurs again in the same battle. “talk” #9 is the only time this text can be seen. afterwards, it goes back to “seems talking won’t do any more good”.
if it weren’t for this flavour text only appearing on the ninth talk, it could have been linked to either frisk or chara, but as it stands, the nine specifically brings to mind chara. perhaps this is another nod to chara’s presence outside of the genocide route (along with the likes of the woshua jokes, the snowdrake’s mother “laugh”/”heckle” ACTs, and the new home bed dialogue). maybe it’s evidence of chara willing frisk to fight.
i DID manage to write something on all my flights, but it’s quite rough. hope you enjoy! As always, catch this along with my other one-shots on AO3 in Mean Peach Mojito.
“Uh, babe? What’s in this big-ass red box?”
Alex looks over at her girlfriend who is currently waist-deep in their storage unit. All she can see of Maggie is the back of her thighs and her ass – she’s nearly spread-eagled on top of some of their more sturdy boxes to be able to reach what’s in the big red box in the back.
“Oh, uh, don’t worry about that box.” Alex hopes she sounds nonchalant, but her voice comes out high and strained.
And, obviously, Maggie notices. She notices that Alex is embarrassed and, like any good girlfriend, she seizes the opportunity.
She pulls herself back up and turns to face Alex. “Babe, what’s in it?” She’s got a shit-eating grin on her face which only grows as Alex fidgets and mumbles something inaudible that definitely has the words “Kara” and “stupid” in it.
“What was that, babe?” Maggie’s eyes are twinkling now, and she’s dimpling, and Alex hates how much she loves her.
Alex crosses her arms over her chest and tries to resist. “It’s nothing,” she says, trying to will her voice back to a normal register. “Just some of Kara’s old crap.”
But Maggie isn’t a decorated detective for nothing. She knows Alex is lying, but she can also tell that whatever is in this box has crossed over from funny-embarrassing to anxious-embarrassing, and she changes tactics immediately. She clambers over another couple boxes so she can stand right next to Alex, reaching out and rubbing her arm with one hand.
“Babe, it’s okay,” she says, and her voice is soft and tender now. “You don’t have to tell me what’s in it. I was just messing with you. But, really, it’s fine for you to have secrets. You don’t have to show me everything.”
“No, I – no, it’s not a secret.” Alex rolls her eyes at herself. She’s such a drama queen sometimes, and she really doesn’t mean to be. She just isn’t used to someone who isn’t Kara watching her all the time – someone who actually cares about the nuances of her emotions. “It’s just embarrassing, but it’s not, like, bad.”
Alex shakes her head. “No, not DEO-related.”
And Maggie just gives it a beat of silence. She tilts her head, just the way Alex likes, and smiles softly, dimpling just the way Alex likes, and holds Alex’s elbow, rubbing her thumb up and down Alex’s skin just the way she likes. If Alex doesn’t say anything else, she’ll drop it, and will leave the mystery of the big-ass red box unsolved.
But she has a sneaking suspicion that Alex – who is a pretty great liar when she really needs to be, and who has a propensity for wanting to show Maggie everything about herself, is going to say something. Maggie’s pretty sure that Alex wants her to know what’s in the box, and just doesn’t know how to say it.
So Maggie waits, with the tilt and the dimple and the soothing thumb.
And Alex fidgets, and then sighs heavily, and then blushes as she says, “It’s our dress-up box.”
Maggie had been steeling herself not to react, no matter what Alex said, but she can’t help it. Her eyebrows fly up and her jaw sags a little. She hasn’t heard those words in that sequence since she was a little kid.
Alex nods a little – her face is still pink and she’s clearly a little embarrassed but not afraid or anxious or upset. “Yeah, me and Kara’s. From when we were kids.”
And Maggie doesn’t mention that Kara didn’t show up until Alex was a teenager, and that most kids out-grown their dress-up boxes by the middle of elementary school. She just nods in understanding.
Alex hasn’t kept a lot of stuff from her life. This storage unit is mostly books and Maggie’s old furniture. Alex has just a couple of boxes from her childhood, and has functionally nothing from between college and when she’d met Maggie in the way of mementos or knick-knacks or sentimental belongings.
This big-ass red box – this dress-up box – is clearly something special. It’s the one big thing she’s made sure to keep as she’s moved from apartment to apartment, from city to city. She keeps it here, not in Eliza’s garage or anywhere else back in Midvale. She keeps it here, in her storage unit, with her baby blanket and her dad’s telescope and all of the books she used to read out loud to Kara.
It’s clearly incredibly important to her. And if Maggie met someone in bar that she didn’t really care about who mentioned still having their childhood dress-up box, that they used into their late teens, Maggie would give them so much shit for it. Or if, for example, Winn still had his, he’d never hear the end of it from her.
But Alex? Her sweet, tender, soft, loving girlfriend, with the huge heart and the huge wall between herself and everyone else? Her wonderful girl who would make a blanket fort just to snuggle her sister in a second, but would use her bare hands to murder anyone who looked at her sideways?
Maggie wouldn’t dream of making fun of her for something that obviously means so much, that she’s kept so close.
“Wanna take it back with us?” Maggie asks, hoping she sounds casual. “Might be fun for you and Kara to look through it together, if it’s been a while.”
And Alex equivocates a little, and makes dismissive little sounds, and rolls her eyes. Like it’s embarrassing. Like she hadn’t ever considered something so lame.
But her eyes are wide and little soft, and she, finally, after looking at Maggie and finding only love and trust and support, nods.
So Maggie carefully makes her way into the back corner of the unit and Alex charts a parallel course along the other wall, so they both end up on opposite sides of the big-ass red box. They heft it up together – it’s not too heavy, but it’s just too big for either of them to carry on their own, and they start the slow and awkward process of maneuvering it out to the car.
After dropping it twice, and Alex having to rescue Maggie from another box that nearly swallows her whole (and treating her trauma with a light make out session), they finally emerge with it. They pop it in the backseat of the car and, for the rest of the time they’re arranging the unit, Alex keeps darting her eyes over her shoulder, back to the big-ass red dress-up box.