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lampmanliveblogs · 2 years

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OF COURSE THE VIDEO STARTED BUFFERING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BEAUTIFUL SAKUGA! Ugh!

Anyways, let’s break it down…

So the very first image is of this creepy eye on fire opening and staring into our souls.

This eye reminded me of something, so I went back and checked, and I’m like 87% sure this eye is supposed to be the eye on the portal door that brought Luz to the boiling Isles. tHe one she destroyed with a fire glyph. Hence, why it’s now on fire.

This opening actually has a lot of parallels to the first one that I will continue to talk about.

In a rapid series of shots we see our main characters. We see Luz conjuring several light orbs, we see Eda pop in from a portal swinging her staff, and then King popping out from behind her back. We see Willow controlling a mass of vines, we see Gus manifesting two copies of himself and we see Amity summoning some of that abomination goop.

Some interesting details:

•Luz is wearing the cape Eda made for her in Season 1. She is also summoning a bunch of light orbs very quickly, showing how proficient she has become with her glyphs.

•Eda’s eye is grey and that gemstone thing on her chest is dark because of the curse.

•King is King.

•Willow, Gus & Amity are wearing their regular clothes and not their school uniforms. In Season 1’s opening, they wore their uniforms.

Another very obvious parallel to Season 1’s opening, we have three characters displayed in a similar way to how Willow, Gus & Amity were displayed in that. Right out of the gate, the first thing I notice is that these three are/were close to Emperor Belos.

On the left we have Lilith, looking a lot more evil than she did at the end of Season 1. In the previous season she was introduced as an antagonist who stood on the wrong side, but did so for what could be considered good reasons; she wanted to heal her sister’s curse. Of course, matters were complicated when it turned out that Lilith was the one who cursed Eda in the first place. At the end of Season 1, she abandoned Emperor Belos cause to save her sister and lifted part of Eda’s curse, weakening herself in the process.

Then we have the guy in the middle, whom Emperor Belos dispatched to keep an eye on The Owl House crew. I know nothing of this person. I have not been spoiled at all regarding this person in any way. I don’t even know their name. As such, we’re gonna need one of my Very Funny nicknames. Let’s see… a shiny, almost Golden mask… they’re sent to Guard the Owl House… A-ha, got it! I’ll call you… The Brass Watchman!

Also, The Brass Watchman’s staff looks a lot like Belos’ staff, hinting at a deep connection between the two of them. Perhaps The Brass Watchman is an apprentice of the Emperor?

Finally, to the right, we have Kikimora. She(?) appears to be Belos’ right hand (wait, is that why her hair looks like a hand??) working very close with the enigmatic tyrant. She even has authority over Lilith, who is the head of the Emperor’s Coven.

On the flip side (heh), we get to see another aspect to these characters.

Lilith now looks defeated and remorseful, like she is begging for mercy or forgiveness from her sister. She has a grey streak in her hair from absorbing part of Eda’s curse. She is dressed in old, patched-up clothes, showing just how far she has fallen. Her power, her status, even her magic is now gone.

The Brass Watchman is sneaking a peek out from behind the mask, possibly hinting that this person is more than just another faceless goon of the empire.

Finally, we have Kikimora and uh… are you doing alright Kiki? You seem a bit… upset. She looks absolutely mad here, indicating that beneath the calm and collected surface she displayed in Season 1, there lies a crazy streak to Kiki.

Oh, and I didnät notice until I took this screenshot, but that looks like the heads of the nine big Covens at the top there. In order from left to right we have the Abomination Coven, the Potion Coven, the Illusion Coven, the Construction Coven, the Plant Coven, the Magical Beasts Coven, the Music Coven, the Healing Coven and the Divination Coven.

(oh, oh, I also noticed there are little suns above Lilith, Brass Watchman & Kikimora’s heads. Wasn’t there some sun imagery with Belos in Season 1? On a mural or something?)

Speaking of the man, here he is! The Big Bad Belos! The Titan’s chosen prophet, the Emperor of the Boiling Isles and wrecker of your shit!

In Season 1’s Opening, the images of Willow, Gus & Amity were burned away and replaced with King standing on a pile of stuffed animals. In Season 2, Emperor Belos sweeps in and poses dramatically in front of his castles before a massive lightning bolt blinds us. The point goes to the Emperor.

Next comes an almost exact recreation of the last part of Season 1’s opening, except even more beautiful somehow? I’m not sure how to describe it, but the colors in this new version feel so much warmer, deeper, and more alive to me. It’s gorgeous.

One little thing I appreciate is how the night sky looks in the new version. It’s so beautiful.

Overall, this new opening was fantastic, and absolutely beautifully animated. The song remained unchanged (I think), but the visuals blew me away. So good. Big Kudos to the animation team.

#the owl house #liveblog #the owl house liveblog #toh s2e1 #separate tides

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benjaminthewolf · 2 years

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Diver Down (Part 2) (Vore Story)

ALL Y’ALL WHO READ THE FIRST PART PLEASE READ THIS TOO, IT’S LITERALLY THE BEST PART-

(Hence the reblog hehe)

At last, the unholy trinity is fully complete. Ready for the big surprise? Well you’re gonna have to read the story to find out what it is.

Uh…warning, when I say “unholy”, I mean I’m obsessed with Beavis and Butt-Head

Part One: https://junothewolf.tumblr.com/post/693601996215828480/diver-down-part-1

Also shout out to the tags for making me put “Female pred” instead of “Male pred” and “Human pretzel” instead of “Human pred”

****

[Continued From Part One]

Almost as if on cue, a great wad of saliva-covered, chewed up food mush got squeezed through the lower esophageal sphincter and plopped down directly onto the pondering teen’s head. One swift breath through the nose, however, and Butt-Head swiftly learned that this was not just more nachos like he would’ve originally assumed. No, this was something much different. He didn’t really know exactly what it was, but he did recognize the smell.

“Chocolate? Uhuhuhuh?” he calmly said to himself as his brain attempted to process the implications of this new realization.

It would only be until yet another bout of chocolate goop entered into the stomach, however, that Butt-Head at last came to a conclusion.

“Uh…..I’m gonna like, get buried in food. I’ve gotta get out of here.” he “reasoned”, as much as Butt-Head can reason at all.

Gazing around intently for any possible way he could get himself out of this rapidly filling chamber, Butt-Head’s first instinct was just simply to somehow get back up the esophagus. This was rather quickly ruled out as an option, however, upon Butt-Head realizing that he was not, in reality, able to jump that high.

Suddenly taking notice of another valve-like structure laying in the bottom left corner of the stomach as he continued to search for an exit, the brown haired teen immediately realized that if he was gonna travel down that tube, he would have to submerge himself inside the liquids. Quite luckily for Butt-Head however, it did indeed just so happen to be, that tonight he had shown up to Highland High School’s halloween party while wearing a full-on diver’s suit.

Slipping the mouthpiece into his, well, mouth, as such, Butt-Head proceeded to splash deep down inside the chyme-filled pool below, immersing his entire being into the mush, before doing sort of a half-frog-stroke, half-just-flailing-his-arm-around as he swam forwards towards the pylorus, the doorway between the stomach and small intestine. The squelching muscle naturally accepted him through, thus granting him entrance into the duodenum as it did.

Almost immediately after the fleshy gateway had closed behind him, Butt-Head found himself floating effortlessly inside of a completely water-filled, rather tight, yet equally as pink and squishy tunnel, one which gave him just enough room to move, but one that he could quite easily bump against if he wasn’t being careful. Butt-Head swiftly realized that since there was no air in here, he was rather lucky to have come across the diving suit back in the dump.

Many bulbous, finger-like protrusions stuck out of the walls of the tunnel, gently swishing and bending along in one direction or the other inside the current-less passageway as the chyme from the stomach casually flowed on by.

Speaking of the chyme, in fact, Butt-Head could just barely tell that the mushy, nutrient-filled soup was being degraded even further, if only by how the barely tan colored mixture broke apart and all but disappeared into the churning, watery expanse around it, a sight which, despite the mouthpiece and all, would prove to cause him to once again start laughing.

“Uhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh. This is cool.”

****

“I AM CORNHOLIO! MY BUNGHOLE WILL NOT WAIT!” Beavis, under his Cornholio persona, cried out rather loudly and spitefully while wandering aimlessly around the party grounds.

“TP?” he occasionally called out to either a wildly amused, giggling aggressively partygoer or completely and utterly confused partygoer. It hardly mattered at all, as either way, the result was the same. “TP for my bunghole?”

Upon now having the opportunity to observe this spectacle from afar, both Todd and Daria were left considerably speechless at the sight of this behavior, but to Daria specifically, there was soon to be one other question that piqued her interest so much, that the silence was broken as a result of its implications.

“...where the hell did Butt-Head go?” she verbally asked, mainly to herself, while gazing around the area looking high, low, left and right, for him.

“Who the fuck knows? All I do know is that next halloween, I’m buying those two idiots clown costumes.” Todd responded in a rather irritated tone while rolling his eyes.

“...but…no, Todd, I don’t think you understand just what this might mean. Beavis only becomes Cornholio when he consumes a large amount of sugary and or caffeinated food and or drink. There’s absolutely zero reason I can think of why Butt-Head would’ve left the party, and considering those two recently unlocked some form of shrinking abilities…Todd…you don’t think it's a possibility that…”

Todd looked over at Daria with a look of considerable genuine confusion in his face, mixed in with his habitable gang member scowl of course.

“What the hell are you going on about now?”

Daria, not exactly feeling comfortable saying her hypothesis outright, ultimately just let out a sigh, before attempting to relay her thought process upon the large, burly gangster once more.

“Butt-Head has mysteriously vanished, and Beavis has transformed into Cornholio. In order to accomplish said transformation, Beavis must’ve consumed a large amount of stimulating food or drink. These are the facts we know. Think about it, Todd. Especially considering their shrinking abilities. Think about it.”

As he was still completely in the dark about what Daria was trying to tell him, Todd did indeed begin to think. He mentally scanned over the facts that had been laid out before him, attempting to piece them together in different ways, searching vehemently for a pattern. After about a minute into this process, however, the realization finally clicked, and due to the nature of the resulting implications, Todd could do nothing, absolutely nothing, in that moment but stand there silently, locked up inside himself in horror. Pure, undistilled horror. If Daria’s hypothesis was correct, then that meant…

Todd dared not to think about it, instead just closing his eyes and letting out a great, big sigh.

“...great…………………” he eventually groaned out.

“I DEMAND TP, FOR I AM THE ALMIGHTY, ONE AND ONLY CORNHOLIO!” Beavis/Cornholio continued to cry out in the background.

“...how long, exactly, do those Cornholio bouts typically last?” Todd shakily asked Daria in genuine terror.

Daria let out a barely audible “Hmph” sound.

“Well, I guess it depends upon how much sugar and or caffeine he consumes, but I’d say, on average, maybe about half an hour?” she responded after a brief moment of thought.

“I AM CORNHOLIO! I COME FROM LAKE TITICACA! TITICACA!”

“...yeah I got enough time.” Todd murmured to himself under his breath. “Well then, Daria. I guess that means there isn’t anything left for me or you to do other than stand back and watch the show unfold.”

“...right.” Daria rolled her eyes in a dry, deadpan response. “Then I'll go make sure the doors to the school aren't locked just in case somebody needs to call an ambulance.”

****

Now having entered the duodenojejunal junction (the part of the small intestine that comes after the duodenum), Butt-Head could only manage to just casually float in place while watching the villi absorb nutrients, continuously chuckling all the while.

“Uhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh. They’re like tiny dicks. Uhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh.”

Though there was a little bit of ambient gurgling still present in the small intestine, the vast majority of it had ceased at this point, and for Butt-Head, that meant he was now able to somewhat pick up on what was going on outside of Beavis’ guts, and he was, naturally, able to gather some hints as Beavis’ Cornholio ramblings continued spontaneously.

“NICARAGUA! NICARAGUA! TP FOR MY BUNGHOLE?”

The shouts were naturally quite muffled, but Butt-Head was still able to pick up the words, instantly snapping him out of his current state of fixation, as a result, something which annoyed him considerably.

“Shut up you dumbass, I’m trying to look at dicks!” he grumbled out irritably.

Intentionally giving the slightly thinner, and far more sensitive walls of the small intestine a good, strong, kick due to his annoyance, Butt-Head swiftly swam up to a villi-laiden wall and placed his ear against it in order to best hear the aftermath.

“YOU WILL COOPERATE WITH THE ALMIGHTY-OWWW!” Beavis/Cornholio cried out in pain. “ARE YOU THREATENING ME? WHO DARES TOUCH THE ALMIGHTY CORNHOLIO? I SHALL HAVE YOUR HEAD ON A PLUNGER!”

“Uhuhuhuhuhuh. Butt-Monkey…” Butt-Head mumbled to himself as he proceeded to swim further down into the narrow, fleshy tunnel.

Wading his way through the jejunum, Butt-Head continued to merley stare at all the swerving, wavering villi as he swam up, down, and around the winding tubes of the small intestine, carefully squeezing himself through some of the tighter corners, doing a sort of half-paddle kick half-doggie paddle in order to not be constantly smacking his arms against the walls. Yes, he had indeed punted his flipper deep into Beavis’ intestinal walls literally just minutes ago, but that was because he had a reason to. With no more motive to speak of, Butt-Head didn’t really want to cause any more harm, especially to someone that he would consider a friend.

“Uhuhuhuhuhuh. This thing is long. When does it like, end?”

“PFFFFTASDJANDSDAJLASDKLSDNSDNS BUNGHOLE! BUNGHOLE! BUNGHOLE!”

“Shut up you butt-munch!” Butt-Head called out in a suddenly rejuvenated bout of infuriation, (though he obviously knew that Beavis couldn’t hear him), from within the blonde haired teen’s guts. He was just about to deliver yet another smack upon his rambling lifelong friend’s small intestine out of slight rage, before all of a sudden, out from deep within the shrunken diver’s shriveled up, smoothened, rotting brain, came a thought. But not just any thought, mind you. A coherent thought. A coherent thought that almost immediately caused Butt-Head to stop dead in his tracks, instantly dropping any and all intentions of hurting Beavis again as a result, while he took the necessary time he needed to parse out this strange, considerably abnormal thought’s meaning, for seemingly no good reason, in fact, other than that what still remained of an intelligent mind within the brown-haired teen was screeching vehemently at him to do so.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh………” he began to monotonously drone out while his few remaining brain cells that still survived within his cobweb infested skull began desperately piecing together the facts, slowly but steadily building up what would prove to be a somewhat complete picture of the situation at hand for the tiny, diving teen to maneuver his conscious thought processes through as such.

Thus, eventually, Butt-Head had an epiphany.

“Uhhhh…I don’t wanna see this ass-whipe’s bunghole. I gotta go back up. Uhuhuhuhuh.” he at last concluded with a slight bodily shudder at the thought of what exactly would’ve happened to him if he had made his way to said bunghole.

Thus, whilst gingerly and carefully turning himself around and trying his very best to not irritate any of the numerous, delicate villi swishing and bobbing in the water’s flow upon the walls, Butt-Head began traversing his way upwards through the jejunum, in order to, in due time, come back out the way he came.

****

Meanwhile, back on the outside, Beavis’ Cornholio episode was still going well and strong. At this point, he had managed to wander his way over to the dance floor once again, and, naturally, people began to take notice of him. Some began to point and jeer, while others simply took a step back in utter confusion and bewilderment, while still others merely turned a blind eye to the odd, rambling teen and merely continued to focus intently on their moves.

“I AM CORNHOLIO! MY BUNGHOLE IS ITCHY! ITCHY FOR THIS CRAP YOU CALL ‘MUSIC’ BE OBLITERATED, THAT IS!”

The DJ swiftly recognized who it was that seemed to be disturbing the dance, and at first, he just did his best to try to ignore the rambunctious, raving teen, even going so far as to turn the volume up in an attempt to drown out his cries…however…this defiance would not last for long, as Beavis/Cornholio only continued to wreak verbal hell.

“WHERE IS METALLICA? MY BUNGHOLE DEMANDS YOU MUST PLAY METALLICA!” the blonde haired teen only bellowed out louder upon realizing that the DJ was desperately trying to tune him out. “MY BUNGHOLIO DOES NOT APPRECIATE DEFIANCE, YOU WILL BOW DOWN TO THE ALMIGHTY BUNGHOLE, AND PLAY CORNHOLIO METALLICA!”

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head several times over, the DJ ultimately realized that at this point, he just simply had no choice. Either he complied with Cornholio’s demands and played his Metallica, or he continued to refuse, and that would only make the party worse for, well, pretty much everyone involved.

Thus, bending over in his chair in order to pick up a Metallica record from off his pile of many that lay below the table, the DJ proceeded to take a second to contemplate his life choices before inserting the record onto the table, and at last playing Enter Sandman. Cornholio’s being, now positively overwhelmed with satisfaction, began to wildy twitch and shutter with delight, finally able to rock out to his jams.

Bounding around frantically in what could barely even be described as a dance, Beavis/Cornholio proceeded to absolutely go off the leash, and jitter and spasm around frantically upon that very dance floor, the way an overly energetic five year old would after not having released their energy in a whole-ass week.

This all would prove to be well and good, however, it did mean one very important thing. With every second that Beavis/Cornholio spent running around wildly and flinging his body around like he was possessed, the more and more sugar proceeded to exit his system. Beavis’ Cornholio episode was, as a result, now nearing its end, and this would prove to be especially helpful, to a particular miniature diver; one who had, at this point, finally made his way back up to the pylorus.

****

“This ass-wipe better cough me back up.” Butt-Head mumbled to himself as he forcefully pushed open the tight, squeezing walls of the pylorus in order to get back into the stomach. Slowly but surely wedging his way through its form, Butt-Head wigled and kicked semi-agressively as he shoved his way through, before at last, the tips of his flippers slid through the narrow entryway, and the brown haired teen was able to resurface into the stomach.

Butt-Head knew, (which was pretty impressive for him, all things considered), that he wasn’t out of the woods quite yet, though. Not only because he knew he would somehow have to make Beavis throw up in order to make it back up his esophagus, but also because, well, the instant he resurface, Butt-Head got violently launched by gravity into one of the stomach walls, which would, of course, cushion the impact, but would do basically nothing to stop the oncoming deluge of liquids that splashed directly onto the shrunken teen’s being, immediately dragging him back under the surface, as the chamber continued to jostle its contents up down, left right, and around, the liquids sloshing and churning around poor Butt-Head as he desperately attempted to somehow, despite the slick, slippery nature of the walls and his diver’s glove as well, get a grip in order to stop getting launched to and fro.

Unfortunately for Butt-Head however, as the time dragged on, this option seemed to become less and less likely to actually happen as the tiny diver got swept up and barraged by a goopy wave of chime, tumbling and swirling around under the waves as such. Realizing right then and there that he, plain and simply, didn’t have any more options left, Butt-Head, in an intense bout of panic, tightly bound up a fist, and upon breaching the surface one more time, this time not due to any fault of his own, delivered a small but mighty sucker punch straight into Beavis’ guts, practically begging internally that somehow, someway, it would work.

****

“I AM CORNHOLI-OWWWW!” Beavis/Cornholio yowled out as a sudden bout of stinging began to form somewhere inside his stomach. “ACH-GRRRRRRRRR….CORNHOLIO HAS HAD IT UP TO HERE WITH RESISTANCE! WHO DARES TOUCH THE ALMIGHTY CORNHOLIO? OWWW!”

Naturally, all of the partygoers around the immediate vicinity of Beavis/Cornholio swiftly, in a rather scuffed manner, scurried away in a sudden bout of panic, for all of them knew that they hadn’t even laid but a single little finger on the teen, and yet none of them wished to be subjected to his wrath. At the same time, however, they knew that if they just stood there and did nothing, Beavis/Cornholio might end up doing something worse sooner rather than later, ironically, because of their insubordination.

“YOU COWARDS!” Beavis/Cornholio aggressively spat out. “I KNOW ONE OF YOU DID SOMETHING TO ME, AND IF YOU GUYS DON’T-OWWW!”

Beavis/Cornholio only continued writing out in pain, actually collapsing onto the floor after a while whilst clutching his stomach in agony. The blonde haired teen began to deafeningly whimper and wail in his suffering, letting out the occasional “OWWW!” or “AAAA!” as he did.

Somewhere on the outside of the crowd, Daria Morgendorffer, with Todd Lanuzzi stationed by her side, began to frantically dart her gaze to and fro from Beavis/Cornholio squirming in anguish on the floor, and the towards door to the school, where she would be able to access a phone and call Beavis/Cornholio an ambulance, if the situation required.

Back in the center of the conflict, however, as the poor, tormented soul that was Beavis/Cornholio continued to lay in distress on the floor, there would eventually come a short period of time where all the noise that had once so addimetly flowed from the afflicted teen abruptly came to a halt, as his body fell still. Everyone around the currently unmoving body immediately held their breath.

Even Daria, who was known for not caring at all about what was going on around her as well as her general deadpan additude; alongside Todd, Highland High School’s resident tough-guy gang member, consecutively gasped out in horror, before placing their hands over their mouths, beginning to sporadically worry in utter despair if it was already too late, for perhaps both of the boys.

“...eergh…blech…ungh…wha-what-what’s going on? Where am I? WHO-WHO THE HELL ARE ALL YOU PEOPLE?” Beavis suddenly began to stammer out in sheer befuddlement.

Pretty much the entire party at that point breathed a collective sigh of relief, not the least of which included Todd and Daria.

“N-n-n-n-n-no! Somebody answer my question! What the hell is going on right now?” Beavis shakily stuttered out, practically pleading out to the crowd for an answer; only to once again be met with silence. Beavis would have opened up his mouth in order to ask his question a third time, but to pretty much everybody’s sheer shock and horror but a few seconds later, while not a single person on the outside of the situation dared say a word, on the inside of the situation, a singular voice rather angrily spoke up.

“I’M going on, you butt-plug! Now get me out of this crap, would ya?”

Nobody moved a muscle. Nobody spoke a word. Even the DJ, who up until this point was doing everything, literally everything in his power to just simply ignore everything that had been going on with Beavis, abruptly did a record scratch as everybody just simply began to, well, stay still. Stay still, and let the reality of the situation slowly settle in.

Beavis, knowing that the very last thing he remembered before regaining consciousness in the dance area was, indeed, viciously chowing down upon the nacho chips and cheese back at the food tables with a miniatureized Butt-Head swimming around inside, promptly proceeded to aggressively jitter and shake once more as his face swiftly transformed from its normal tan shade into an extremely deep shade of red.

“Uhhhhhhhhh……..did I just cause everyone to die?”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Beavis yowled out in panic the moment reality had fully settled in.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

“Woah! Beavis, calm the fuck down!”

“N-NO! NO! I AM NOT GOING TO CALM DOWN! YOU’RE-I-WE-AAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Deciding that they should probably just back away and let whatever was going to happen next happen, the crowd around Beavis immediately began to disperse, making an even larger circle of observation around the shuddering, hysteric teen as such.

“BEAVIS! SHUT UP! IF YOU CAN JUST-”

“THIS IS NOT HAPPENING THIS IS NOT HAPPENING THIS IS NOT HAPPENING THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!”

“...alright, that’s it. I’m just gonna do it, now.”

Upon having heard those words from the tiny one deep inside of him, Beavis’ ramblings finally came to a rather sudden halt as a new bout of confusion swept over the prior one, overcoming the need for the first one to bother him as a result.

“Wait what? What the hell do you mean you’re gonna-”

And just like that, everything was over.

****

“Hehehehehehehehehe! Well, that sure was fun!” Beavis called out to Butt-Head in a calm, controlled manner as the latter teen finally stepped out of the bathroom, covered in a long, white bathrobe and positively dripping wet from just having exited the shower.

“Huhuhuhuhuh. Yeah. You ate me. Uhuhuhuhuhuh.” the brown haired teen responded as he casually sat back down on the couch.

“Yeah, hehehehehehehe. Yeah!”

“And then you like, started freaking out and stuff. Uhuhuhuhuh”

“Hehehehe. Yeah. Yeah, I sure did freak out! Hehehehehe!”

“Uhuhuhuhuhuh. That was cool. Huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh.”

“Hehehehehehehehehehe!”

“Uhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu.”

“Hehehehehehehehehehe!”

“Ah………..”

“Promise to never do it again?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

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minusgangtime · 1 year

Note

"Oh... ehehe... I uh, should've said this earlier. Me being a Shadow Shroom, I can poison anyone with my goop, hence the goop dripping from my mushroom cap. But don't worry though! It's one-hundred percent safe and not poisonous, unless I get angry though. But that'll never happen." *he explains*

- Shroomy

"Oh, phew..."

#fnf ask #ask

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riderdrauggrim · 4 years

Text

Day Tues Oct 20, 2020.

So! On uh. ... Other day... (they blur together, what is time, hrgnn) I made use of Toad Rock's repair shelter and put the bike up on the stand (with some help because Am Smol) to try and get the horrible slack out of the chain.

I'd known it was getting time for a new one before I left, but I'd always assumed the occasional clattering as the sprockets spun the chain around was my eternal foes; negligence and rust.

Hence me installing the CameleonOiler automatic chain oil dripper prior to departure: It meant I didn't need to risk lugging around a pressurized spray can, and the dripper would keep the chain tended for me.

Or so I thought.

That reads wrong. The CameleonOiler does exactly as advertised, drips a sticky spider web like dot of oil every three minutes and change, which keeps the chain happy. It wasn't until the reservoir ran out of the custom goop that the noise returned. I had only brought one jug of the oil for backup, and I was due those new tires, so I decided not to refill it and get everything gunky gross slimed for the poor shop guys at Riverside.

Once the tires were done, I refilled the tube; noise went away.

Friday night the noise came back with a vengeance, and the bike seemed to jerk and stutter when I accelerated. I was shifting through lower gears than I normally do, as I was both in the rain, at dusk, and on a twisty mountain pass I was unfamiliar with.

My natural instinct was "reservoir must be empty again, and all the rain washed whatever was on the chain away."

So. The other day I went to check the slack and it was so bad it was easily over 3". NOT good. Poking around a bit and the left swingarm end cap plate was loose. Okay, new theory, they'd cleaned and greased things when they replaced the tire... Perhaps the axle had jostled out of place when I hit a pothole or a rut or nearly wiped out on thay icy bridge. That would explain the loose plate, and the chain sag.

So it's on the center stand and I wrench things around and that's when I realize it ISN'T just stiff and rusty links. The Master Link and the two links beside it are outright LOOSE. Like, get them on the rear sprocket and then lift them off it a quarter inch LOOSE.

Which created a new problem.

If I tightened the chain slack while those links were on the sprocket, once they were off the sprocket they would relax, and that's where all the horrible sag was coming from. It also probably was what made the cringe worthy snapping sound, as they were suddenly drawn taut with tension from the opposing sprocket.

However, if I tightened the chain while the loose links were -between- the sprockets, it would cinch everything TOO tight once they revolved back onto the teeth.

Well. Shit.

On a whim, I decide, maybe if I can get a new chain, I can swap it myself.

Problem 1) The current chain has a rivet style master link, after a freak failure of a newly installed clip link years ago, we'd swapped to rivet style for security.

I do not have the tools to grind rivet heads off with me.

Problem 2) The place a half hour up the road DOES have a chain that fits. Except it had more links than I need.

And I do not have a chain breaker with me.

Solution 1) Said Honda place up the road, Main Jet Motorsports in Nelson, B.C. DOES have time this afternoon to pop the chain on for me. On one hand, saves me buying tools I don't need. And saves me from getting overwhelmed if I mess up. Let's do it.

And it's a good thing we did.

Service fellah comes to find me with an odd expression. I know what this means.

"What have I messed up and broken now," I sigh, because that's generally the case.

"No, it's just. Your wheel bearings are worn. Like. Badly worn. Like letting you leave with them in is a health and safety concern."

Wheeeeeeeeeee.

At the very least, it's not something that I would have known to look for, and it's apparently impossible to "tell" with weight on the wheel. They took me down and showed me how the wheel slightly wiggled side to side if you grabbed it and applied lateral pressure.

"And that's bad," I presumed. "What would happen if I kept going like that?"

Well, the wheel could straight up seize and stop spinning.

Okay! How do we fix it!

It became a good news/bad news afternoon.

Good news! We have replacement bearings in stock!

Bad news! We only have two of three.

Good news! The carrier bearing generally takes less wear than the other two, so we can probably leave that one in, just replace it asap when you get back.

Bad news! Your bearing seal is also shot, and we don't have any in stock.

Good news! It's not THAT horrible, we'll just grease it to heck and you get a new one when you get that third bearing swapped.

-sigh-

SO.

New chain, two out of three new bearings, and I'm good to go. Super thanks to Main Jet Motorsports!

-----

I also feel horrible because a woman came in who had bought a KTM 390 two years ago and had only put 500km on it because the damn KTMs are TOO FUCKING TALL and she wasn't confident when she had to stop and put a foot down.

That is the STORY OF MY LIFE, so of course I perked up. She'd done dirt bikes a bunch when she was younger. She liked riding. She just needed something she fit on.

So the... Six foot + sales guy and her are looking at the... Rebels?

What?

I'm like. Does he even understand her issue?

Sure, she can touch ground on the Rebels, but.

That's a totally different ride style?

Not AS Lazy-Boy recliner as a cruiser, but still. Nothing like the "feet pegs in line with body" of a dual sport, adventure, or sport.

If she has a dirt background, and wants to build up more confidence off road. You don't put her on a retro cruiser thingy.

I swear. All shops should have a sales person UNDER 5'4".

So I basically hijacked his sale.

And I feel bad for it.

But I talked up the CB500X, or even the CB500F like I used to have. I showed her how her posture on the Rebel would impact her spine if she wanted to off-road it, which she hadn't considered. Sure, it feels great in the show room, with both your feet on the floor. But go a few hours down a fire road, unable to stand and see what's ahead, the rake and trail all sluggish for quick corner input.

And it was one of those moments where I was ::aware I should just shut up:: but also felt like...

Responsibly motivated to make sure the lady got what she was actually looking for by pointing out pros and cons she maybe hadn't considered? As one short rider to another?

She seemed to REALLY be grateful for the advice and input.

The sales guy seemed annoyed as he glared at me and then growled he was gonna go photo copy something until I "was done talking".

I mean. Yah. I was all for Honda, and like, "these are both great machines, I recomend either, get what you feel comfortable on!" Like I wasn't at all like "no lady, what you want is to go somewhere else and buy a different brand".

But the dude didn't even get her copies of the full colour glossy product books, and I was kinda like...

Maybe he didn't take her seriously.

I mean most motorcycle makers and gear manufactures don't seem to give a shit about people under 5'4", there's barely any clothes that aren't too long or too tall. I've got to soften suspensions or put lowering links on my rides. I've got my pant cuffs rolled up three times like I borrowed my big brother's space suit.

Plus she's a GIRLLLL. Oh yah, companies make riding gear FOR GIRLSSS. It's pink, and shows off your hourglass figure, and has silver sequined butterflies. Or the Klim Jacket that had the cell phone pocket DIRECTLY over the left breast, so the device would get painfully mashed into the tissue if you tried to zip up. Almost as if they didn't actually have any girls on hand to trouble shoot the product.

HHHGGNNN.

Anyways. I hope that lady finds a nice Honda she likes and has fun on it.

I'm sorry to the sales dude for stepping on your toes.

And I love the heck out of the service guys for looking after me and catching that huge safety concern and getting me back on the road super quick.

Now I just need it to STOP RAINING.

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youtuberswithalex · 5 years

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Virgil the Brave (Prologue)

(/stand alone fic, depending on if I decide to continue this or not)

Summary: Virgil and Roman had been planning on this quest for a week, but Virgil finds himself confined to bed rest with a fever and a nasty cough the day of. Roman learns of his disappointment and determines to give him an adventure anyway-- in story form, that is. (Toddler Virgil AU)

(A/N: This... may or may not become a full fic? The bits with Roman and Virgil are heavily inspired by the Princess Bride movie, but the book is/would be a rewrite of the only novel I’ve ever finished and gave to my friends but they mostly all hated it so I’m a little hesitant to share it hence why I might not finish this ha.This Toddler Virgil AU is separate than the AU that A Little Anxious is set in.

So, uh... Enjoy?)

Word count: 1,414

Warnings: Sickness (I think that’s it?)

Kofi – Writing Masterpost

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Patton pulled the thermometer out of Virgil’s mouth and squinted at the little screen. “A hundred and one,” he muttered. He cooed and reached over to run his fingers through Virgil’s sweaty hair. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. Looks like you’re going to have to spend the day right here in bed.”

Glossy eyes widening, Virgil sucked in a small gasp. “But—But Ro and I were gonna go on an adventure! I can’t—!”

A string of heavy coughs burst out of his throat before he could finish his sentence; Patton sighed and rubbed his back until the fit passed. He carefully pressed Virgil back to lean against his propped up pillows before handing him a cup of water.

“I know, sweetheart, but you’re sick,” he said. “I can’t let you go out into the wilderness like this. You’re only going to get worse if you push yourself, y’know? Logan might be able to sneak his way through it, but I’m not going to let you do that.”

Virgil pouted, but he nodded regardless, taking a sip of water. Patton picked up the little jar of Vick’s off of the nightstand and unzipped Virgil’s onesie just enough to expose his chest.

As he began to rub the gel onto his skin, Patton shook his head. “I know you were really looking forward to this, Virgil. I’m sorry. You and Roman can go in a couple of days, once you’re feeling better, okay? How’s that sound?”

With a sniffle, Virgil set his cup to the side. “Okay, Daddy.”

“Good.” Patton gave him a gentle smile before climbing to his feet and pressing a kiss onto Virgil’s too-warm forehead. “I’m going to let you get some rest, kiddo. I’ll be right downstairs if you need me.”

As he walked out of the room, he flicked off the top light and almost pulled the door closed; a single sliver of yellow light from the hallway was all that shone in the bedroom. Virgil kept his eyes on him until he was gone.

With a sigh, he let his head hang. Patton was right—he really had been looking forward to this quest, ever since Roman brought the idea up nearly a week ago. They’d spend days planning it out, working on what they’d be fighting for, designing the castles they were going to storm, reassuring Patton that it wouldn’t be too mature for Virgil. It was going to be the perfect day.

But now, he was stuck in bed with a stupid cough and a dumb fever and an annoying stuffy nose. Every aching part of him desperately wished that this had hit tomorrow, but it was all for naught.

He didn’t even care about the quest. He just wanted to spend some time with Roman.

Virgil sneezed and moaned at the dull pain in his chest before picking up his stuffed kitty and laying down. He was careful not to let her touch the cream as he snuggled down underneath his covers. Once he was settled, he stared at the ceiling and sighed.

Maybe some rest would do him some good.

Virgil let his eyes flutter shut.

…Only to squeeze tight and pop back open when another string of coughs ripped through his throat.

With a whimper, Virgil sat back up and resigned to curling up against his headboard in a fatigued daze.

There was a quiet knock on the doorframe not too long later, followed by the door slowly creaking open.

Virgil looked up as Roman poked his head into the dark room. With a soft smile, he stepped in; a leather drawstring bag hung on his shoulder. Virgil’s stomach twisted at the sight.

“Hey, bud,” Roman whispered. “Heard you weren’t feeling too good.”

Lower lip trembling, Virgil sniffled and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I really wanted to go, I didn’t mean to get sick—!”

Roman held up his hand, quickly making his way to his bedside. “Hey, hey, none of that!”

He turned on the lamp sitting on Virgil’s nightstand before he knelt next to him; Virgil watched as he pulled the bag off of his shoulder and set it on the floor. He couldn’t help but wonder how much extra work Roman was going to have to do now that he wasn’t able to go.

“I know you didn’t fall ill on purpose, my Sniffly Prince,” Roman laughed. “It’s dreadful that this beast struck you down, but it isn’t your fault. Even I catch a fever from time to time! It’s nothing to apologize for; you had no control over this.”

Quietly, Virgil nodded and rested his head against his headboard. His eyes shut as he coughed and whimpered. Roman hummed, and when Virgil opened his eyes again, he was pulling a thermos out of his bag. He carefully unscrewed the top and held it out.

“Here,” he said, “I brought you this potion. It’ll help your throat stop hurting so much.”

Virgil hesitated, but he sat up regardless and eyed it. “What’s in it?”

“Some boiled leaves and a drop of liquefied gold,” Roman replied with a wink. “Daddy helped me make it. Said it’ll heal you right up from even the worst of illnesses.”

Virgil reached towards it, only for a thought to enter his mind that made him pull his hand back. He chewed on his lip while Roman frowned at him.

“…Aren’t you gonna need it on your quest?” Virgil quietly asked.

Roman stared at him for a beat. “My quest?”

“With—With the dragon, and the wizard, and the big, scary snowman?”

Eyes widening, Roman set the thermos on the nightstand. He moved to sit on the edge of Virgil’s bed and pushed the hair away from his forehead, a deep frown etching on his face.

“Virgil, I would never go on an adventure that we planned without you,” he firmly said. “That would be simply terrible of me! Not only would it be rude and selfish, but without you, it wouldn’t be any fun. What makes you think I would do something like that?”

Virgil leaned into the coolness of Roman’s hand before peering up at him. “Why’d you pack your bag if you’re not going?”

Roman blinked, and then a soft smile formed on his face. He pulled his hand away—Virgil nearly chased after it –and reached down to pull the bag into his lap. “Why, this isn’t packed for adventuring,” he reassured. “I filled it with things for you.”

Tilting his head, Virgil stared up at him. “Huh?”

“Yes! See, I brought that tea— uh, potion, and some more of that goop for your chest, and… Well, there’s a few things in here,” Roman explained, holding it open to show Virgil the contents. “Your father told me that you were quite disappointed that we couldn’t go on our quest, so I figured the least I could do was keep you company during your valiant battle against this bug.”

Virgil sucked in a breath, hope sparking up inside of him. “Really?!”

“Of course, you brave little beast!” Roman exclaimed. He snapped his fingers and shoved his hand back into his bag. “Oh, and I brought a book for us to read! Just because you can’t leave your bed doesn’t mean we can’t have an adventure in our minds!”

Virgil beamed, but the joy was cut short as a coughing fit settled in his chest again. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his mouth in his elbow; Roman tsk’ed and rubbed his back, reaching for the thermos on the nightstand. As soon as it passed, he helped him take a few sips of the hot drink.

“Alright, alright, don’t get too excited now,” Roman soothed. “How about we reapply some of this goopy stuff before we get started, hm?”

Just a few minutes later, Virgil was nestled underneath Roman’s arm as he leaned against the corner where the bed met the wall. His kitty sat in his lap, facing Roman, as he stared at the pastel cover of the book. Roman pressed his lips to Virgil’s forehead for just a moment before humming and pulling the pages open.

“Now, don’t be afraid to fall asleep while I’m reading, alright?” he whispered. “I can always go back and re-read anything you missed.”

Virgil nodded, and Roman smiled. He turned to the book and began to read.

“Prologue:

“The rumbling of the ground did nothing to combat the shaking in Sean’s hands…”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fanfic #alex writes #virgil the brave

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tamiddyinyourcity · 4 years

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i wanna be kissed, quarantine isn't fair i couldve gone on a date with that ukrainian uber driver by now and gotten a nut if possible

But the good thing about quarantine is:

Lots of time to sleep without being judged for sleeping or being idle when there isnt shit to do at all and people are damned indoors eternally.

I get to drink water and put lemon juice on my private areas without any interruptions happening. (My mom walked in to see me shirtless, and I had said, "Oh, my bad! My shirts off since im doing a little skin lightening". And my fairskinned ass mom nearly had her jaw drop as she exclaimed, "Wha-- Tamia what are you doing skin lightening for?!?!?!?!", before I awkwardly had to say, "NONONONONO, NOT LIKE THAT, LIKE, UH", and pointing to the acidic goop on my armpits. (She understood instantly. What women do for beauty... Also, thank God I didn't say "IM DOING IT HERE" and lifting my skirt or nothin. I was eerily close to doing that, but i caught the sense to raise my other limb instead.) Almost had my mom thinking I was tryna be the next Queen Naija.... NEEEEEEVER, LMFAOOOOOOOOO.

Plenty of time to get started on meal planning, or just basic day to day eating.

No screaming toddlers.

I'm forced to actually get to know people, instead of just jumping into the sack with the first nerdy dude in my city or some shit. I even made a new friend. Despite several times being told "if not for distance then you'd be exactly the type of woman id want to be with", and things along those lines, im still not sure what that really means. (Hence, why I temporarily blocked them when hearing they had a crush on some other girl.... Turned out it was a fleeting one, but still.) Nevertheless, the nice company I still admire greatly! Good guy, really funny.

Planning cute outfits.

Finding all my lost jewelry and items in my bedroom.

Drinking water and finding new ways to self upgrade myself. (I gotta get back into the olive oil stuff I was doing, but hey, no pressure! Its a quarantine, sleep works best for me during times like this.)

I can make my music and concept art without a specific time limit, thanks to a quarantine preventing me from only having the time to leave my room at 7pm and only have time for very little but everything at once until 3am.

Quarantine was what got my grandmother out in the first place! Hell yeah!

Everyone's in the mood to eat billionaires and end capitalism about now.

Celebrities make themselves look bad!

Fuck yeah!

#awesome #nice

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satireknight · 7 years

Text

TMNT S03E04 - The Maltese Hamster Part 2

Donatello and April are on their way to the Meat-Rack when he gets clocked - literally - and it knocks off his hat. Quick, put it back on before someone notices him!

April says that all they have to do is follow the trail of antiques to find his hideout. Um, didn’t they know where that was already?

After a pointless encounter with a useless cop, the antiques lead them to the place they were headed anyway, the Meat Rack. Its decor is very literal.

And after some woman tries to pick Donatello up, they just sort of walk right into the back of the club. Nobody tries to stop them. I always assumed the mob was a little more careful.

Vivaldi is busy telling Shredder that no, they haven’t found the hamster statue, even though “every antique” in a fifty-mile radius just floated to them. Shredder is typically calm and diplomatic, and says that he’ll be at the docks at midnight and he wants the hamster there and then.

But Donatello accidentally reveals their location before they can locate Splinter and the other Turtles, mainly by bumbling into a stack of crates. He needs to relearn some basic ninja skills.

And instead of shooting them or using their restraint beam, Vivaldi orders his goons to “get ‘em, boys!” and chases them out of the room, only firing when there’s a large group of people for them to mingle with.

They fight back with a disco ball and various foodstuffs, and manage to escape back to April’s apartment, which they enter via the window. Donatello is worried that the Butcher’s goons might be watching, hence the climb; I’d question how they’d know where April lives, but then again, she is supposed to be a minor celebrity.

It turns out that Donatello has figured out what is going on... possibly because he overheard Vivaldi and Shredder discussing the hamster. Just then, the world’s slowest delivery boy drops off the package with the hamster statue inside.

He tells April to meet him at the docks at midnight, and to bring the hamster.

We’re way overdue for some exposition, so we switch back to Vivaldi and his goons worrying about the lack of a hamster statue. Suddenly the TV shows Donatello’s face, which is hardly implausible given the number of times the Turtles’ TV has been hacked.

He claims to have the statue, and demands to know what exactly is so special about a hamster statue that Shredder is going to such lengths to get it. Vivaldi immediately spills the story about how an evil scientist in Malta (the only one) who invented a superpowerful explosive and accidentally killed himself, but not before putting the formula inside a hamster statue.

I want to say it’s silly, but I’m smiling too hard.

“... and I get dibs on Detroit.” Sure you want that?

Donatello offers to swap the hamster for the other Turtles and Splinter, before revealing that he didn’t hack the TV - he just hollowed it out and sat there with his head inside it. Don’t ask me how he did that without anyone noticing.

And as he escapes from the place, he snatches one of their laser blasters.

Shredder, Rocksteady and Bebop meet up with the mobsters at the docks that night, which probably doesn’t project the kind of image Shredder wants to the mobsters.

Donatello pops up with the hamster statue, and refuses to hand it over until the other Turtles and Splinter are released. Technically, if they had a sniper nearly they could just shoot him and take it, but...

He tosses it to Shredder as the others are filed out of the car, but with an air that shows that he’s got a plan in the works. Shredder starts exulting about how he now has the formula...

Predictably, he decides to welsh on his side of the deal, since killing the Turtles is one of the few life goals he has. But April immediately shoots the statue from a nearby rooftop, instantly melting it to goop. Since the Turtles don’t usually employ rayguns, Shredder assumes that Vivaldi must have done it for... um... because... er... so he could... uh...

Anyway, he teleports the weapons back, while Donatello frees the others.

Since nobody noticed him doing this, they are able to chase Shredder and his two mutants back onto the module and away. But the Turtles seem to be in a mood after spending most of the episode as captives, so they leave the mobsters trussed on the dock.

As the story closes, the Turtles are back in their trenchcoats and pants, and Donatello is noir-narrating again.

VERDICT:

I probably shouldn’t enjoy this episode as much as I do, because it does have some truly silly elements like the antique-magnet (which really doesn’t do anything of importance). But it also is well aware of its silliness, and it seems to be having fun with some of the more ridiculous elements like the “Maltese Hamster” statue.

Not to mention the noir element, which is downright adorable. Just far enough into parody to be funny, but not so much that it overwhelms the rest of the episode or can’t poke gentle fun at itself (”... Sam Spudhead!”). And Donatello’s voice actor was clearly having a blast doing the hard-boiled faux-Bogart voice.

It’s also the first episode I can recall that explicitly focuses on a particular Turtle, in this case Donatello. The narration makes him the overarching presence even when the other Turtles are equally involved in the narrative, and having them taken out of the story for at least half its length makes it essentially a solo adventure. It’s nice to see the nerd taking center stage.

It also gives April a more active role than usual, since she’s Donatello’s only backup in or out of combat. She even gets to take part in the climax in a central if unspeaking role.

Although it does bother me: why didn’t the hamster get dragged away by the magnet? Purchased or not, it’s still an antique (presumably).

Grade: B

#tmnt #tmnt 1987 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #satireknight

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lissachan504 · 7 years

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FAW FAN FICTION SHOWCASE

Untitled works

Submission by @officiallokilaufeyson

Thank you so much for sharing!

“Well…now you’ve gone and ruined my favorite gun…” James grumbled, wiping the blood-spattered remnants from his pistol onto his pants leg, then grimacing at the stain that was left over.

“Should have thought that through…"

Before he had much of a chance to do anything else, however, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Removing one of his latex gloves, he fished it out, sighing at the name, before answering.

“Hello, light of my life…"

"Yes, well, you’re not exactly my idea of a stellar phone call, either.” The voice on the other end snapped at him, and he stifled a chuckle.

“You’re much too easy to tease, Becs. Since you’re calling, I can only assume Arrow wants me back at HQ.”

“And he gets it right! Yes, he wants you back here ASAP. Did you get a chance to call the clean-up crew yet?”

“Uhm, no, kinda just baked the cupcake, which exploded everywhere, might I add. Very rude of it.” To this, he grimaced at the remains on the toe of his boot, and started to rub it off on the side of the brick wall opposite him.

“Well, don’t worry, I’ve called and detailed the location, they’ll be there to fix the kitchen in no time. Meanwhile, get your rear over here. It’s important.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. See you in a few."

And before he gave her the chance to respond, he swiped the phone call to an end, carefully sliding it back into his pocket, and only sparing his victim one last glance before taking off in the opposite direction.

The journey to Arrow’s lair, considering he didn’t stop home first to change clothes, took him a grand total of an hour by foot. He would have taken a taxi, but he wasn’t about to be that cliche.

He was greeted out front by the usual suspects-Charlie and Mac-who nodded to him before he entered the foyer.

"Couldn’t you at the very least have cleaned up a little before coming here?”

A quick glance up revealed none other than the Operater herself, Rebecca. Or, as James was wont to call her, Becs.

She looked nothing less than annoyed at his presence as she tapped her foot, curly brown hair bouncing with the motion and mouth pursed, wearing her signature vegan leather jacket, baggy tee, jeans and trusty boots that had seen more wear and tear than perhaps James, himself.

“Well, you impressed upon me the utmost importance of this meeting, so yeah, I could’ve gone home to clean up, but then I would’ve been here later, now, wouldn’t I?” He countered, to which Becs only rolled her eyes, turning with a jaunt down the hall.

He knew by now protocol was to follow her, and he did so, pushing his hands into the shallow recesses of his jacket pockets.

“What was so important, anyway? Usually he can wait a bit, but it seems like time’s a bit of the essence this go around. Is it a prostitution ring? Kidnapping? Murder plot?”

“James, you know very well by now that I can’t tell you, only Arrow can do that.” She sighed, though slowed down to allow him to walk beside her.

“Beeeeecssss.” James whined, considering pulling at her jacket, but knowing full well he would get slugged in the face for daring to do so with dirty hands.

“All I can tell you is that it’s incredibly important. Probably one of the most high-priority missions you’ve ever been on, so you need to have your head on right.”

James blinked, eyebrows furrowed at this statement of hers. He had had his fair share of priority missions, so to be told that this was going to rank up there as a primo one?

Well, he was nothing short of excited.

Their conversation was cut short, however, as they stopped short in front of Arrow’s door.

“Well, this is where I take my leave. Good luck in there.” She was about to pat his arm, but stopped short at seeing a rather large hunk of goop on the sleeve, and thus quickly withdrew her hand and took off down the hallway, causing him to chuckle heartily, before letting himself in.

As with any and every cliche action movie, Arrow wasn’t facing him when he entered the office.

No, he was stood next to the window, hands clasped behind his back, eyebrows furrowed and looking much like Atlas-the entire weight of the world his to bear.

“James, reporting for duty, sir.” The young man attempted to break the tension with a quip, smiling weakly in the presence of his superior.

Arrow was a tall man. Older, but no less handsome due to his age. He had sharp cheekbones, salt and pepper hair, a defined jawline and a stare so piercing with blue, blue eyes, it sometimes appeared as if he was looking into you rather than at you.

Some would find that type of stare creepy. James had seen it enough times to find it cool now, though he could freely admit that the first time he had seen the man, he had been quite intimidated.

That stare was now fixed on him, though it had since softened with a quirk to his lips.

“James…it’s nice to see you. It’s been nearly a month.”

“Huh…it has, hasn’t it…” James mused, reaching up to push messy black hair from equally dark eyes, though his attention never wavered.

“Time does fly…but I didn’t call you here to wax on and off about life’s temporary permanence. There’s something…of great importance that I need you to take care of for me. I could think of no one else for the task.” He spoke softly as he glided, rather than moved, back to his chair, sliding upon the leather seat and motioning for James to do the same in the seat across from himself.

Not one known to disobey an order, casual or otherwise, James moved to sit in the proffered chair, trying and failing to look even an ounce as suave as his superior, and thus settled with picking at his nail bed.

“As you very well know, because of my business, there’s always a price to be had on my head. Crime organizations don’t exactly take kindly to my taking out some of the most powerful people under their hand, you see.”

James only nodded so as not to disrupt Arrow’s flow of words.

“Not only is it myself who they want…but they’ve made threats. Normally, I wouldn’t be bothered by such empty words, but these threats are being made by significant crime lords with connections that I couldn’t even begin to dream to have…enter you, James.”

The young man blinked, not yet seeing his entry into this convoluted web.

“Ah…did you…want me to protect you?”

“No, but close…it’s not my safety that I’m concerned about…it’s my son’s. He is my only child, a sweet young man, but incredibly naive…I worry about him endlessly. Whether he’s going to school, or out with a friend, I can’t help but feel like there’s someone lurking out there, waiting for the opportune moment to take the most dear thing to me.

And so…it is him that I need you to protect.”

James wasn’t sure how to feel about this.

Should he be happy that Arrow was entrusting him with something-someone-so very important?

Should he be annoyed because he was going to be, essentially, nothing more than a glorified babysitter?

His emotions were, to put it simply, on short circuit overdrive.

Taking his silence as permission to proceed, Arrow continued.

“I can’t guarantee you how long this mission is going to last. It could be nothing more than a few days, it could be much longer. It will only be until I can arrange to have those sewer rats rotting in a prison cell, as I’m close to certain I know exactly who it is that’s making the threats.”

Again, James said nothing.

“I only ask you because out of everyone under my care, you are the one whom I trust the most. If you decline, I’ll understand, but I’m not sure who else I could recruit for this.”

Shaking his head free from the stupor he had been mired in, he swallowed thickly.

“Ah…are you sure I’m really the best option here? I mean, why not Charlie or Mac? They’re huge, certainly they would be the most fit for the job.”

“As capable as they are on the size chart, I need someone with not only strength, but speed and a knack for making the best decisions under a lot of pressure. You have proved time and again that you are capable of doing so, hence my choosing of you. However, as I mentioned, if you feel that you’re not up to the task, I would never force it upon you.”

James raised his hands, smiling weakly. “No, I didn’t say that! I was just…a little confused. But, I mean, I’ve never declined a mission yet. Wouldn’t want to ruin my perfect record, right?” He teased, to which Arrow replied in kind with a small smile of his own.

“I suppose that wouldn’t do, now, would it? I will arrange for you to meet him this evening. This will give you more than enough time to get yourself cleaned up before then, yes?”

“Ahh, I had almost forgotten I was covered in the innerds of my enemies! Yeah, better off not scaring him right off the bat! Can’t have his first impression of me tainted thinking I enjoy chianti and cannibalism.”

This joke, it seemed, was lost on Arrow, and so James simply excused himself before he made an even bigger fool out of of himself.

Becs was waiting for him when he arrived back in the grand foyer, looking less annoyed and more curious now.

“Weeeell, did you agree to take on the mission?”

Taking a page out of her book, James waggled a finger at her. “Nuh uh uh, if I don’t get to know any details about my own mission beforehand, then you don’t get t-ah! Ow, dammit, okay, I did!” He winced as Rebecca pulled at his ear, only releasing it when he replied in the affirmative.

“Now, was that so difficult?”

James frowned openly at her, but the pain was soon forgotten as he remembered a question that had been burning at him after the meeting.

“Have you…have you ever met Arrow’s son?”

“Oh heavens, no. He never brings him here. I’m supposing you’ll meet him tonight at a place far removed from here. He wouldn’t want his son knowing what he does.”

“But we’re the good guys!”

“Good motive, still murder."

I feel like I’m going on a date… James thought to himself as he looked through his wardrobe, finally settling on a clean, nice pair of jeans that he tried not to wear on missions, a long sleeved black shirt, and a pair of shoes that didn’t have blood stains all over them.

It being evening, he decided to take his car to where Arrow had deigned him to meet his son, with tall buildings and well-dressed men and women, including those going into the restaurant that James was appointed to rendezvous in.

Foregoing the valet because he couldn’t remember what was in his car and he wasn’t about to let a valet find incriminating evidence, he parked a couple of blocks back and walked inside.

"Welcome to Antonio’s, do you have a reservation?” A practiced, if polite, host greeted him.

“Uh, yeah, I think so, I-”

“I’ll take it from here, Mark.” A waiter approached the two, inclining his head for James to follow, which he did after bidding the original host goodbye with a jerky nod.

The walk was short before he was deposited into an uncrowded corner of the lavish restaurant opposite Arrow, but there was distinctly someone missing, which James was about to comment on when the waiter left, but he beat him to it.

“My son will be here shortly, he had a class end late.” Arrow informed, taking a sip of his wine.

“No problem, i-”

“Ah, sorry I’m late!” A breathless voice greeted them, and James looked up to be faced with a slightly harried young man.

He was small, at least half a head shorter than James, with light brown hair and large, pretty hazel eyes.

James was having a hard time seeing this as Arrow’s son, because frankly, he looked nothing like him.

“He favors his mother.” Arrow filled in as his son flushed before sitting beside his father.

“Dad…” He whined quietly, wringing the napkin between his hands.

“James, this is my son, Blaze. Blaze, this is James. He’s the one from the office that I was telling you about before.”

Blaze glanced up, hazel eyes meeting green, one light brown eyebrow quirked, before Blaze looked at his father.

“Dad, you expect me to believe that he’s an associate at your work?"

James nearly coughed into his water at Blaze’s spot on deduction, instead he glanced at Arrow, who couldn’t have looked more at ease.

"Of course not, son. He’s the son of an associate at work. He’s also your new bodyguard, so you may want to get used to him now.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Blaze.” James smiled.

Blaze, however, looked annoyed, staring at his father.

“Since when do I need a bodyguard?”

“Since I said so. Are you going to keep questioning me and being rude or are you going to properly speak with James?”

This statement broached no argument, for Blaze flushed before turning forward to face James.

“Sorry…it’s nice to meet you, as well, James."

"What are you studying in school?”

“Game design, with a minor in cultural studies. I’d like to make the gaming universe a more diverse place to be.” Blaze explained with a smile, his hands having moved from fiddling with his napkin to resting in his lap. Clearly, he was passionate about his chosen field of study.

“Oh, very nice. Have you made any games yet?”

He shook his head no.

“Nah. Not full ones, at least. I made a demo that won an award, though.”

“My son is talented beyond measure.” Arrow complimented as he looked through his menu.

Blaze preened, clearly pleased to have been worthy of his father’s praise, before turning back to James.

“Did you always want to be a bodyguard, James?”

“Hmm…it came naturally.” He finally decided upon, figuring, for the most part, it was the truth, and it wouldn’t bring about any more questions.

“I see. Well, I’ve never had a bodyguard before, so I find the whole thing a little ridiculous, to be honest. I mean, the school has security, dad. They even have boxes on campus you can press to call a guard right to you.”

Arrow was only half listening as he took a sip of wine. “As I said before, there’s no arguing my decision. Make peace with it or not, James will be protecting you.”

Blaze sighed quietly, his last ditch effort clearly not having gone the way he wanted it to, though he managed a small smile at James.

“Apologies now, I’m afraid I won’t be a terribly interesting subject to protect.”

“More’s the pity. I was hoping for an absolute party animal with a penchant for mayhem.” James teased, getting a laugh out of Blaze and a smile from Arrow.

Oh, if only he knew what was in store…

#faw momma's follower appreciation week showcase submission #submission #fan fiction showcase

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