#shout out to that old call back that no one will know on bombers outfit

[get-rammed]

Happy late Halloween...

#i wanted to give something to the guys that still follow me even though i dont do bt anymore #also meant to come out yesterday but there were children everywhere and i have been on hella overtime #bomberboy #beasttale #cherryboy #beastfell #canine #beastswap #anon insert #honestly made canine too small #also this was because ey new ut content #im just a day late because i suck #my art #sfw #shout out to that old call back that no one will know on bombers outfit #canine gets to be freddy because i was and because...hes my favorite #dont expect any more art of them any time soon #its just because we got that offical undertale au #dont tell me it aint #plus i sometimes miss drawing them #then i remember how much i like drawing beef over sticks

[joheunsaram]

In Plain Sight (knj)

Summary- After weeks of preparation and stress, you believed you were ready for the opening night of your restaurant. However, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of your ex waiting for you.

word count- 2k

pairing- idol!Namjoon x chef!Reader (feat. bff!Seokjin, brother!Jungkook)

rating- PG

genre- angst, exes to (maybe) lovers

warnings- none to note, Namjoon eats mincho

a.n- Happy birthday to my bae, Beezy @hobeemin​! I hope you had the best day and that this isn’t too late haha. I know you requested this for my March drabbles but I got carried away. Here’s some angst to heal your soul!

A huge shout out to @casuallyimagining​ and @missgarnet​ for beta reading! 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

-

You sighed in relief as the first customers of the night started pouring in. This was it. This was what you had been working towards for the past ten years. After years of culinary school, slaving away as a sous chef and begging investors, tonight was the night that you unveiled your new restaurant.

You ran your clammy hands over your pants as you greeted your guests, the most radiant smile on your face, before checking in with the kitchen. Even before the grand opening, the fact that one of your investors was the beloved chef Baek Jong-won, had people excited about your restaurant. It had put a lot of pressure on you, but watching your head chef prepare the kitchen for the dinner rush calmed your nerves. It was comforting being in the back, the clatter of pans and shouts of commands made you feel at home.

“Checking up on me already, boss?” Seokjin asked, chuckling as he draped a towel over his shoulder. In addition to being your head chef, Seokjin was also your best friend, supporting you over the years to make your dream come true.

“Can never be too sure, what with your habit of getting distracted by your reflection,” you joked, earning a scowl and a whack from Seokjin’s towel. Pushing him back, you laughed as he yelled at you for almost killing him, his dramatics at an all time high, probably the same nerves churning through him as you.

Where the kitchen was chaotic, the front of the house was almost serene, a low rumble of conversation offset by a soft jazz playlist you had spent hours curating. Your nerves dissipated as the first orders arrived, the customers smiling and nodding at the first taste. 

Moving behind the bar, you checked on Jungkook, your younger brother and bartender. No one would have ever thought the two of you would end up working together, given the fights you had all through your childhood, the scar of one of them permanently etched on his cheekbone. 

“Did you invite him?” He asked as he shook a drink, the ice rattling obnoxiously in the metal container. 

“Who?” You asked, your nose scrunching at the aggressive way he made the drink. You swore if he broke another glass you were going to take it out of his paycheck, shared gene pool or not. 

“Namjoon,” he whispered theatrically, using his eyes to point towards the corner of the room. The sound of his name set you on edge, your heart in your throat. 

You hadn’t thought of your ex for over two years, since the night he walked out on you and you vowed to never let anyone take control of your happiness and leave you broken on a whim. However, that didn’t stop you from following your brother’s eyeline to the more secluded tables of your restaurant. 

He looked different. So different that it cracked the carefully constructed armour around you, a frown etching onto your features as you took him in. Dressed head to toe in black, you wouldn’t have noticed him if it weren’t for Jungkook.

He looked out of place, anxious, as he drummed his fingers on the menu, staring at it intently. The hood of his oversized jacket was atop his head concealing his dyed blonde hair, and his black mask was pulled low on his chin, leaving his bare face on display as if his new album wasn’t currently at number one. 

He was biting his lip, his brows scrunched together and it sent you back to two years ago, the memories flooding your brain as the ache you’d worked endlessly to ignore reared its ugly head once again. 

“We should break up,” Namjoon said, his lower lip between his teeth, as he stood in the doorway. He was still dressed in his outfit from the shoot he had returned from; a shiny silver bomber jacket adorned atop a plain black outfit, his makeup still on perfectly. It gave him an ethereal look, all flaws hidden from view as he looked at you in your striped blue pyjamas, hair up in a messy bun, face puffy from sleep. 

His words felt like you had been hit with ice water, like you were skating on a frozen river and it gave way from under you plunging you into a panicked cold that felt akin to a burn. You didn’t know how long he watched you, your face neutral after you demanded an explanation. 

“It’s not fair to you, Berry,” he said, voice soft and broken as he finally made his way to the bed. He sat as far away from you as he could and the distance seemed to stretch on for miles. You were confused by his sudden change. Just yesterday he had arrived home with smiles and cuddled into you immediately, just as he had done for the past three years, but today you were hard pressed to find that warmth, his gaze never meeting yours. 

“You don’t get to decide what’s fair to me,” you stated. “We are not breaking up.” Decision made, you slipped the cover over yourself as you reclined back into your supine position. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he muttered, almost silently but the quiet of the room gave him away, his distraught weaving itself in your skull. 

“Juniper, let’s talk about this,” you pleaded, a hand reaching to grab onto his that he shrugged off. 

“No. If we talk about this you will convince me to stay and I just can’t do this anymore.”

“What did I do?” Your voice was soft, as if you spoke any louder it would startle the seemingly broken man in front of you. 

“It’s not you, it’s me,” he spoke the cliche, his dimples making an appearance in the sad smile he gave in your direction. You didn’t understand what was happening. Namjoon was a man of many words, slinging together poetry out of thin air in seconds, inspired by the mundane. He continued, talking over your thoughts, as he explained the reasons he was hurting you, the reasons he was a bad partner. All reasons that you have never even conceived - a product of his overthinking, anxious mind. Every time you would argue, he would counter with his own failings, like how he couldn’t make it to your culinary school graduation and how his fame made him unavailable to go to whenever you needed him. 

Namjoon cried, inconsolable even when you tried to assure him that his failings were in his imagination, that you were happy, content. But he had a notoriously one-track mind, and the only conclusion he could come to was that he couldn’t bear to be with you any more. 

“Seeing you always waiting for me breaks my heart,” he whispered as he held you, your face in his hands as he smiled for your benefit. You didn’t know how to convince him otherwise, but the way he kissed you, tasting of salt and regret, you knew it would be the last time he would do so. 

When he left that night, you finally cried, mourning a relationship that he snatched away from you, before the tears turned to rage, heartbreak manifested into indignation. 

“Are you going to talk to him?” Jungkook broke you out of your reverie just before you could further relive the sorrow. 

“No. Absolutely not. He can enjoy his solo dinner,” you replied, turning on your heels to go into your office, your excitement for the night overshadowed by Namjoon’s sudden reappearance. It wasn’t bad enough that you had to see him in your restaurant but as you turned on a random playlist fate decided that you would hear him too as he talked about your break up on his new single. His sultry vocals rapped about his self loathing and need to please only to realize that he left the only person who loved him for himself. You were bitter that he had this epiphany, bitter that he was monetizing on something that was as much your heartbreak as his. 

But what Namjoon wants, Namjoon gets, and as the dinner rush ended and the crowd dwindled with last call, he was still sitting in the corner table, sequestered away from eyes as he played with his dessert. He must have known that the chocolate bon bons were inspired by him, dubbed Juniper like you had called him all those years, and extra mint added just to spite him. The same way he had named his new song Back to Berry, an homage to no one else but you. 

When he refused to leave even after Jungkook asked, you had no choice but to act civil and make your way towards him. He gasped as you unceremoniously settled in the chair in front of him, eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. As if he had not been waiting three hours for this exact moment

“What are you doing, Namjoon?” You asked, arms folded across your chest as you glared at the face you once thought you couldn’t live without. 

“I’m eating dessert,” he answered, averting your hardened gaze to poke his fork at the food. 

“We’re closing,” you said, your hand waving to your wait staff that had started clearing tables and sweeping the floors. “And you hate mint chocolate,” you added as he took a bite. 

“It was calling my name,” he chuckled humourlessly, before he sighed pushing the plate away. He finally met your eyes then, a soft smile on his face, his dimples poking their way from his cheeks into your heart. “Congratulations. You did it.”

“Yeah. Alone.” You were bitter. He had left you, practically ghosted you for two years and now he thought it was okay to waltz back in?

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping all pretenses as his hand reached towards you. “I’m so sorry, Berry.”

The use of his old nickname for you broke your heart and your facade as you looked at his hand placed directly in front of you on the table, a finger slowly caressing your forearm, almost out of reach. You couldn’t help the way your eyes glistened at his touch, tender and apprehensive. How could he think it was okay to come here? How could you think you wouldn’t forgive him if he asked?

In that moment all you wanted was to run back into his arms, kiss him, delve back into that chaotically beautiful brain of his, but your pride was stronger than all the apologies in the world. 

“It’s too late,” you said as you stood up, his head dropping as he retracted his hand back into his lap. “We’re closed. Goodbye, Juniper.” You gestured to the door, waiting for him to collect his bag, watching as he dropped much more money than his bill on the table before he made his way to the door. 

Turning around he looked at you, catching you staring at him with tear streaked cheeks. “I’m not going to give up, Berry”

“You never do, do you?”

“Never when it comes to you,” he said, covering his face with his mask and adjusting the hood atop his head before disappearing into the quiet street. 

That night you felt your defences weaken a little when you got a message from an unknown number. 

I forgot to tell you. I still miss you. Even after 708 days.

-

taglist: @cheesecakes-randomshitz​, @aroseforyoongi​, @awhnamjoon​, @agustdjoon​, @codeinebelle​ 

I hope you enjoyed the angst! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

#namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #rm fluff #rm angst #rm x reader #bts fanfic #bts #thebtswritersclub #houseofddaeng #thetruthuntoldnet #bangtanuniversity #purplearmynet #ficswithluv #namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic

[notalwaysthevillian]

Shattering Stereotypes

Warnings: Kissing

Pairings: Romantic Moxiety, Remile, and Logince

Word Count: ~1.4k

Read from the beginning

Chapter 20

“Lo?”

Shifting his head on Roman’s shoulder, Logan gave his boyfriend his full attention. “Hm?”

Roman opened his mouth, before closing it immediately. Logan waited patiently, glad that Roman had started to think before he talked. It was something they’d gone over after a comment had sent Virgil spiraling.

“We’ve been going out for a little while,” he started, sliding his arm down to play with Logan’s fingers. “And we hang out at our houses all the time. But...we’ve never gone on like...a date.”

Logan’s sharp inhale had Roman backpedaling immediately.

“I mean, these count as dates! They’re nice, just chilling out, but I wanted to take you to dinner. If that’s something you’re up for.”

Recognizing the anxiety in Roman’s face, Logan shifted so that he was sitting up, taking Roman’s hands in his. “I would love to go to dinner.”

“Awesome!” The smile on Roman’s face was bright, but it dimmed as he looked at Logan. “But something’s wrong.”

“Not wrong.” Logan squeezed his hand. “Just, um...I’ve never done the whole date thing.”

Logan watched the realization dawn on Roman’s face. “Right, because I’m your first boyfriend, so this is - okay. I’m going to make it the best date ever. We’ll go someplace with familiar food so we know we like it, and then maybe a walk in the park after? To go stargazing? My mom has this old blanket we can use.”

Logan stared at Roman for almost a full minute before he slid into his lap, brushing their noses together. “That all sounds great, but can we invite our friends? To take the pressure off a bit?”

“Of course!” Moving his hands to rest on Logan’s hips, Roman grinned. “Now, I believe we were about to be doing something?”

A laugh bubbled out of Logan’s mouth, cut off as Roman pressed their lips together.

Over the next few days, they used their group chat to get the details set up. Patton’s mom had offered up her van so that the six of them could ride together, and squish into the backseat to stargaze if it got cold. Virgil was going to head home with Patton that night, and the two of them were on pick-up duty. Roman had found the perfect restaurant, a little diner right near the park that had excellent reviews.

“The diner has food of all kinds, so everyone should be able to find something they like. I know Patton has that dairy sensitivity, but they have soy milk and stuff so he can still have a milkshake or whatever if he wants to.” Roman rattled off on Facetime as Logan dug through his closet, looking for something to wear.

He held up a navy blue button down. “How’s this?”

“You look great in anything.”

The compliment rolled off of Roman’s tongue so easily. Logan could feel his blush in the tips of his ears. “Rooo, I want to look nice. What are you wearing?”

“Careful, Lo, that’s a dangerous question to ask on Facetime.” A wink had Logan blushing even more. “I tease, I promise. Um, I’ve got on my red bomber and a white tee with jeans. Should I be dressing up more?”

“No! I just - first date jitters I guess.”

Roman stopped moving, looking directly into the camera. “You don’t need to dress up for me, Logan. Wear what makes you comfortable.”

“But -”

“I want you to be comfortable.” Roman flopped onto his bed, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “Besides, I’m hoping you end up in my jacket by the end of the night anyway.”

“Just your jacket?” Logan was glad to finally tease back.

The look that flashed through Roman’s eyes had Logan biting his lip. “Logan, don’t do this to me before I get picked up.”

“Do what?” He asked as he pulled off his shirt to change.

A groan came through the speaker. “You are such a little shit, you know that? And none of our friends would ever believe me.”

“Virgil might.”

“Virgil might what?”

Logan jumped as he heard their friend’s voice on Roman’s end, hearing Patton’s giggles immediately after. “Um, you’d agree that I can be a little shit.”

“Oh yeah.” Virgil said, appearing in Roman’s video, Patton ducking under his arm to join in. “You should’ve heard the shit he gave me whenever I gushed about Patton.”

Logan heard Patton’s happy squeal. “You gush about me?”

“All the ti-mmph!”

“I can only guess what just happened.” Logan deadpanned, laughing when the two separated. “Hurry up, I don’t like being away from my boyfriend for so long.”

“We’re going, we’re going.” Roman ushered their friends out of the frame. “See you soon, Honeybee.”

“See you soon, Handsome.”

After looking through his closet a bit more, Logan chose a simple navy t-shirt with some worn gray jeans. It was usually his laundry day outfit, but it was one of his more comfortable choices. He grabbed some sneakers and a black sweatshirt before heading downstairs.

His dads were talking in the kitchen, stopping their conversation as Logan came down the stairs.

“You know, it’s less obvious if you just keep talking.” He pointed out as he put a foot up on the chair to tie his shoes.

“We’re just excited for you!” Thomas said, a huge smile on his face. “I mean, we don’t know if Roman is the one, but it’s nice that your first boyfriend is such a good catch.”

Preston shook his head. “Hey, my first boyfriend ended up being perfect.”

A freeze frame record scratch went through Logan’s mind. His head snapped up to his dads, confusion making its way across his face. “Hold on, what?”

“I know I seem promiscuous, but Tommy-boy here was my first everything.”

“One, ew.” Logan said as he made a face. “Two, that’s not what I expected.”

Laughter bubbled up out of Thomas. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, Logan. I thought we taught you that.”

“Well, yeah, but -”

A knock at the door had Logan jumping to his feet and racing to open it. Roman stood on the other side with a soft smile. “Hey, Honeybee.”

“Hi, Handsome.” Came the whispered reply, before Logan pulled Roman down for a quick peck.

“Don’t be out too late!”

Shaking his head at his dads, Logan called back an affirmative before dragging Roman to the van. As soon as the door slid open, he saw Virgil lean back into his own seat, a sheepish look on his face.

“I thought you were gonna take longer.”

Roman winked at Logan before he said, “Lo and I can find something to do if you need to finish up.”

Redness flooded Virgil’s cheeks. “Nope, no, we’re good here.”

“V, they’re just teasing.” Patton put a hand on Virgil’s cheek, the latter leaning in to the touch. “We should get going though, or we’ll be picking up a half dressed Remy and Emile.”

“Onward!”

Thankfully they picked up Remy and Emile fully dressed, with no problems. The six of them had a great time at the diner Roman had picked out, managing to find foods that they all liked. Logan got kicked under the table once by mistake, resulting in a giggling and apologetic Emile.

After dinner, with Logan and Roman arguing over who was going to pay, with Roman using his height to his advantage and handing his card over Logan’s head, they piled back into the van and headed to the park.

“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight.” Roman whispered.

He and Logan had split off a little ways away to put their picnic blanket on the grass. The others were still within shouting distance, but it was nice to be in their own little bubble.

“There is. I’m surprised you knew that.”

“I looked it up when I was planning.” A bit of pink flushed Roman’s cheeks at the admission. “You’d mentioned stargazing, and I wanted to make it special, which is why I wanted the date to be tonight, and...yeah.”

“Ro?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” Lifting up one of Roman’s arms, Logan snuggled into his side. “You’ve made this the perfect first date.”

“I can think of one thing that might make it better.”

The cheeky look on Roman’s face made Logan roll his eyes. “I think Remy is rubbing off on you a bit too much.”

“Is that bad or good?” Roman leaned in closer, brushing their noses together.

No verbal answer was needed. Logan leaned in and closed the gap, relishing in the warmth and safety of his boyfriend.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #romantic moxiety #romantic remile #romantic logince

[frombeginingtoend]

Program and Control - Stefan Butler

Summary: Graphic artist (y/n)(l/n) has worked on numerous games with Colin Ritman. When Stefan comes in to present Bandersnatch, (y/n) helps him complete the less story oriented parts of his game.

Notes/Warnings: slow burn-ish, language

Word Count: 3k

---

July 9th, 1984

Your alarm screeched, jolting you from a peaceful slumber. A heavy groan left your chest as you realized you needed to work. You were exhausted, and you wanted an extra ten minutes that you could rarely indulge in.

Sleep In | Get Up

You clicked the snooze button, eyes slipping closed and allowing those prized extra minutes. However, all good things must come to an end. In this case, a very loud end.

You took a deep breath as you sat up, massaging the back of your neck. You were not ready to go into work. Mainly you just didn't want to deal with Mohan, but what must be done, must be done.

Still bleary-eyed, you searched through the closet for something that matched.

A dissatisfied sneer crossed your face when you looked at your reflection. "Yeah, that's about as good as it's gonna get." A small smiled pulled at the edges of your chapped lips as you adjusted your dad's old bomber jacket. You looked back at the clock to realize half an hour had already passed. "Shit!" If you didn't hurry you'd miss the bus.

You slammed into the walls on your way out, hopping into your shoes as you left the house. Luckily they didn't have laces, and you could run without much difficulty. You got to the bus stop without breaking anything or twisting your ankle, which was surprising based on your clumsy history with those very shoes.

Entering TuckerSoft drained every stray remnant of adrenaline in your blood.

"Hey, Colleen," you called, waving at the receptionist. She said hi back, an undertone of distaste in her voice. You have no clue why she didn't like you, but she seemed to have decided that by the first time you met.

You flopped into your chair as quickly as you could, not wanting to be on your feet anymore.

"You're late," Colin commented, keeping his eyes on his screen, probably scrutinizing his code, trying to weed out a flaw. "And who, exactly, are you trying to impress with that number?" He peered around his computer, looking at you over the rims of his glasses.

You looked at the button down and tight slacks you picked out this morning. "Am I not allowed to dress nicely for myself?"

"I'll never understand you," Colin murmured under his breath as he turned back to his code, to which you rolled your eyes and smirked.

While getting your supplies from your desk to continue the mock-ups for the game Colin was working on, you heard your names being mentioned. Across the room was Mohan and a young looking man who fidgeted when he looked over at you.

You smiled and waved before turning back to your work.

"Looks like you've got a fan," you casually mentioned to Colin. You put on your headphones and played a cassette, drowning out the noises of everyone around you.

A tap on your shoulder made you jerk, scratching a line of graphite across your current project. You slid the headphones off with a heavy sigh. "What is it, Ritman?"

"You coming with?"

"No, I'm- I need to get this done." You gestured to the concepts for his newest game. "Fill me in if he gets the job. I'll probably be forced to work on his game."

"Will do." Colin pat you on the back before following the other two into the conference room.

You watched as the group of three walked into the conference room. The kid paused for a moment, looking in your direction. You waved once more, shot him a double thumbs up, and mouthed good luck.

His chest rose with a heavy breath before he nodded and continued through the doors.

Maybe twenty minutes passed before the three men exited the conference room.

"(Y/n)," Mohan called, "I'm sure you'll be glad to know we're picking up Stefan's game! You'll head the art department on it."

"Head it?"

"Well, if we get any other artists on it, yeah, but you're in charge. Just follow Stefan's lead."

You were left nodding like a broken animatronic from It's A Small World, knowing that you shouldn't have expected anything more from Mohan Thakur.

The next few months felt like a blur. You felt as if everything was going more and more downhill as the project progressed. You worried not only for yourself, but for Stefan as well, whom you ended up building a bond with.

He started inviting you over after work, but it tended to revolve around the game rather than personal matters. You wouldn't be opposed to admitting you had a crush on him. He had divulged his thoughts to you on many occasions. You even helped him remember to take his medication. After spending months together, it felt natural to connect like that.

But that was just one part of it.

All the heads working on Bandersnatch made the game feel like more of a clusterfuck than a branching story. You ended up making thirty different final images for it. All of them were shot down by the team until the last one, which you hated.

When the review came out, you waited anxiously with Stefan for at least some good response. However, that's not what happened. The coconut-headed son of a bitch gave the game two and a half stars.

You squeezed Stefan's hand, hoping to keep him calm.

"I need to try again."

"Stefan, what do you-"

"I need to try again."

He stormed off to his bedroom, leaving you in the living room with his dad.

July 9th, 1984

Your alarm screeched, and a pit grew in your stomach. Something felt off today. You'd had this feeling before, and for some reason the whole day felt like it had already passed.

Sleep In | Get Up

You were exhausted, and you wanted an extra ten minutes that you could rarely indulge in, but a pit in your stomach urged you to get up.

You took a deep breath as you sat up, massaging the back of your neck. You were not ready to go into work. Mainly, you just didn't want to deal with Mohan, but what must be done, must be done.

Still bleary-eyed, you searched the closet for something that matched.

Giving the outfit a once over in the mirror, you yawned. "That's 'bout as good as it's gonna get." You pulled at the edges of the bomber jacket, reminded of your late father. A reminiscent smile pulled at the corners of your lips.

You didn't need to rush this morning, so you decided to walk to work. Normally you waited for the bus, which got you there only two minutes before you were supposed to be, but you could likely walk there and be earlier. As a matter of fact, you were even able to stop and get coffee.

You entered the building without much of a care. You enjoyed your job, but work is work. Really, you didn't want to deal with Mohan's demands. Every once in a while it seemed he forgot that you were an artist and not an assistant.

You got into the elevator, deciding the normal route up the stairs would be too long for you to handle the hot cups in your hands. As the doors close you hear someone shout, "Wait, hold the door!"

Hold the Elevator | Let the Doors Close

Your foot shot out without you having to think about it. The sensor stopped the doors half way through their journey and pushed them back.

"Thank you," the young man said, shifting his backpack and staring at the ground. You smiled when you realized who this might be.

"Are you Stefan? Stefan Butler?"

His head shot up, mop of curly hair bouncing. "Uh, yeah. How do- how do you know me?"

"Right, sorry. I'm (y/n). I work at TuckerSoft. I design concept and promotional art. Mister Thakur told me you'd be in to demo." You rose both your coffee laden hands. "I'd shake your hand, but..." you nodded to the coffee, and he smiled, a little blush creeping to his cheeks.

"You did the art for Metl Hedd, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Your chest swelled with pride at his acknowledgment. No one seemed to care about your role in the games the great Colin Ritman created.

"Hey hey! You must be, uhh, Steven." Mohan called when the elevator doors opened.

"Stefan," you corrected, passing both men to get to your desk.

"It's alright, really. I get it all the time," you heard Stefan assure.

"Colin," you sat on his desk, "I have a gift." He looked away from his monitor, raising his eyebrows. He didn't say anything, just left it open for you to speak. "Coffee: black, three sugars."

"Wonderful, thank you, (y/n)." He turned back to his game, coffee already pressed to his lips. "You look nice today," he commented offhandedly.

"Since when do you care about what I look like?" you questioned with a chuckle.

"Since I realized you care."

You were taken by surprise. You never took Colin for the type of guy to care very deeply for people, but then again, he had Kitty and Pearl. He kept them out of the limelight, safe, treasured them, and made sure they both knew how much he cared about them. You supposed, maybe, he could care about his desk partner and friend like a sibling.

"Colin! I'd like you to meet Stefan..." Mohan looked at the aforementioned boy for his last name, which was murmured for him to repeat. "Butler."

Colin offered the two to look at what he was working on: Nohzdyve, but seconds into the demonstration, it crashed.

"What was that?" Mohan asked.

"Eyeball sprites overshot the video memory," Stefan quickly answered.

"How did you know that?" Colin gave Stefan, who merely shrugged, a suspicious glance.

"Anyway, you have a game for us. Let's go." Mohan lead the men to the conference room. Colin stopped before closing the door, gesturing for you to come with. You gestured to the graphite drawings, but Colin gave you a disapproving look. You hustled to get there, recieving a pat on the shoulder when you passed Colin.

Stefan gave a short demo, very compelling and interesting. A choose your own adventure with given choices that interwove to create one massive story. Just like the original book.

"Don't worship him," you bartered. "He's the thief of destiny."

"You've read Jerome F. Davies?"

"Of course, he was a genius." You shared a smile.

"Didn't he go bonkers and cut his wife's head off?" Mohan asked.

"People do tend to focus on that, yes," Colin replied. However, Mohan didn't seem to care as he snatched the controller out of Stefan's hands and selected an option. The screen went blank.

"What's with that?"

"Well, I haven't programmed that path yet."

"So there's gonna be multiple paths?" Mohan asked.

"It's... going to be like the book." Stefan almost seemed confused as to how oblivious Thakur appeared.

"Amazing. When can you start?"

"You... you mean you're interested?"

"Yeah! Write it here! We can put together a small team just for you, and if course Colin will be here. What do you say?"

Stefan was silent, a huge smile across his face as he took in the offer. "No," he said cheerily. "I mean yes. I mean..." he took a deep breath, "I just think that I need to work on it alone, y'know. It's just, I've got it all in my head, and I feel like, if I have more people working on it, it'll get all... stressy."

Mohan looked irritated, but understanding. He'd worked with Colin long enough to understand a creative genius doesn't bode well in groups. He accepted the offer with the exception that it be finished by November eighteenth.

Before you were able to leave the conference room, Mister Thakur stopped you.

"I want you working on the artwork for Bandersnatch. Are you up for the job?"

You really didn't want to take on the additional game, but you knew it would mean a raise, and you did feel some strange form of obligation to Stefan. Still, the work load of two games- working with two separate minds- was going to be a heavy burden. You wanted to decline the offer but

Accept | Decline

You couldn't. "Of course, Mister Thakur."

November, 1984

You stared at the pages of drawings. Tears stung your eyes, throat tight, and screams being swallowed by your stubbornness. Your jaw ached from grinding it together so much, and your hands cramped from their hours of exercise. The next stroke on the paper broke the graphite tip of a freshly sharpened pencil.

You threw it down onto the desk, head falling into your hands. Tears finally slipped between your tightly clenched eyelids. Hair tugged against your scalp, pulled by your fists. No feelings other than anger pulsed through your veins.

Yell | Break Something

A guttural growl left your throat as you bolted to your feet. The backs of your knees collided with the chair, sending it tumbling to the ground with a loud clatter. Chest heaving,

It didn't take long for you to gather your things and head to Stefan's. He told you his address in case you ever needed to stop by for consultation with the artwork.

You would admit that showing up at his door in the middle of the night made you feel a bit awkward. You'd been here a few times before, for the original consultation for the cover work and other times to give him company. He showed you some of the sketches he made himself as well as the sprites and art from Davies himself.

Each time you came over, sitting in his living room, at the kitchen table, or on his bed, you found yourself growing more and more attached. Standing in front of the red door now was making you nervous. You had never showed up uninvited before.

You knocked, hoping he wasn't in the bathroom or so into what he was doing that he couldn't hear you.

When the door swung open, it wasn't Stefan.

"I'm sorry. Is Stetan Butler here?"

"Yeah, I'm his dad. Do you need me to get him for you?" Stefan's father asked, gesturing an extended thumb behind him.

"Actually, would I be able to come in? I have a few questions about his game that could help me finish the art."

"So, you're the artist he's always going on about! Come in, come in. Stefan's room is upstairs. I'll show you."

"Oh! Actually, I-I know where it is, but thank you."

You made your way up the stairs, quiet and very conscious of Stefan's father watching you with incredulous eyes.

His door opened with a soft creak, alerting him but not giving him a reason to turn around.

"I don't need any tea, dad."

"Good, I didn't bring any." You took a seat at the end of his bed.

Stefan could have broken his neck with the speed his head spun to face you. "(Y/n)! What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. Figured I'd stop in to check on you, and," you gestured to the scattered papers and his disheveled state, "it looks like you've been at it for a while, Stefan. Maybe you should take a break."

"No, I-I need to finish this last bit. I have to finish this route."

"That route's gonna turn into three, then five, then eight. You need a break. Just for tonight. Get some sleep. I'll stay here, make you breakfast in the morning." You stood from his bed, your arms wrapped around yourself. Stefan's gaze fell to the keyboard as he took deep breaths. Was he trying to calm himself down?

"Why are you doing this?" His eyes, like his hands, clenched shut. "Why won't you just leave me alone and let me work?"

Reason | Let Him Work

"Because I'm worried, Stefan. We may have only met a few months ago, but I care about you. I'm scared that if I don't force you to stop, you're going to run yourself into the ground."

"I have to! If I don't spend all my time on this it will never get done, and then we wont be able to release it. I'll have wasted all of this time with noth-"

"Stefan, look at me." He kept rambling. "Stefan." You turned his chair toward you, one hand above his shoulder, the other on the arm of the chair. Your faces were now mere inches apart. That jittery feeling in your chest came back as you met his green gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves.

Your view drifted from his large pupils to his pink lips, warm breath ghosting his skin. After a slight hitch in your breath, you leaned in to capture his lips with your own.

His hands hovered over your hips before settling and roaming your back. Subconsciously, your own hands migrated to his jaw, and your legs situated on either side of his. You tugged on the dark curls at the base of Stefan's skull, eliciting a groan. His lips followed yours as you pulled away, greedy and yearning for your touch.

"What are we doing?" you whispered.

"I don't know, but it feels right. This is the only choice I've made in the last six months that feels so right." He stroked a thumb across your cheek. His mind was entirely enamored by you. You: gentle and caring, intoxicating, unique, his lapse from the confused, garbled darkness of his head. Of all the things to get lost in, you were by far the best.

"Why don't you take a break."

Stefan nodded and muttered, "yeah, okay." He let you pull him from the desk chair. He smiled when you pulled back the sheets of his bed, clearly meant for one person, and positioned yourself to cuddle with him. He pressed his back snug against your chest, letting you wrap an arm around his waist. His eyes slid closed just as you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. He drifted to sleep with a smile on his lips.

#stefan butler #bandersnatch #black mirror #x reader #stefan butler x reader #black mirror: bandersnatch #imagine #fanfiction

[capngabnthelivingshitpost]

My abandoned TF story.

So this was a tale lost to the einds of time I created many a moon ago. It's Grabuge (transformers pun YEAH!). So without further ado here it is.......... Millions of years ago on a distant planet………… “-eports indicate that the Decepticon movement is gaining more popular-*click*WE NEED TO STOP THESE UPSTARTS AND PUNISH THEM FOR WHAT THEY'VE DON-*beow*” “Hey, Flameflash why the frag’d you turn it off? I was watching that!” A brown & magenta bot in front of a giant multi screen monitor asked his comrade, scrunching up his blue visor and trying best he could to frown through his mouthplate. He couldn't. “Because,Horse-Power, Delta wants us to report to his quarters for some reason. I don't know” A orange & reddish bot with highlights of green responded to Horse-Power, his yellow optics shining brightly as he shrugged. “B'sides you were just skipping through channels not actually watching anything” “Fine, *sigh* let's go” Horse-Power said as he got up scooting his chair in. The two bots began walking down hallways of their base,Grandus Maximus,it was an old one built years before the war, before the Senate even. The prime from then,Nova,built it in preparation of a threat that never actually came to fruition. There were rumors of it being alive with it occasionally being said to speak (yet no one's heard it if so), high energy readings in it not to dissimilar from spark readings, the two northern towers rotary cannons appearing to be fingers and the towers having joints similar to the ones found in elbows along with the southern ramps looking like legs with metal attached, and last but not least the main command hub looks like a giant head with a helmet on and visor pulled over it's optics. If it has any. “Ey.” “Huh.” “So what do you think of the ‘Cons ideals starting to gain traction with more people and them attacking our territories more?” “To be honest with you, it's…a bit terrifying”,Flameflash responded as a chill went down his spine,”Well here's Deltas office.” He said after moments of silence when they arrived at a small room in the center of Grandus’ inner square. “NO! This isn't working! AAAGGGHHH!!!” Everyone around it stopped what they were doing and stared for a few seconds with the only sounds being (non sentient) machinery working away. Flameflash and Horse-Power gave each other looks of worry as they walked in. “Hey boss are you alright?”Horse-Power asked in a low voice as he tried to put his hand on Delta's lengthy shoulders.”Ya need some help?” Delta sighed as he sat back in his chair.”No. It's fine. I just don't understand how to work this STUPID computer!” He shouted as he slammed his fist into the little indentation from his previous meltdowns on his desk.”So I'm trying to turn on the whatchamacallit… ‘Autonet’”, snapping his fingers when he realized what it was,”but it isn't working!” “Well what you do is take the mouse here and move it to the the little insignia icon and double click. See not so hard.”Horse-Power told him as he demonstrated. “Need any more-”,AHEM. Horse-Power looked up with the look of ‘The frag man’ splayed across his face as Flameflash interrupted. “Yes, Flash?”,Delta responded.”What do you want?” “You called us in for a meeting sir.” Flameflash answered as matter of factly as he could which wasn't very much. “Aw yes. I almost forgot, thanks.” The green and red bot muttered through his mouthplate as he turned and reached into a filing cabinet almost hitting Horse-Power with his shoulders. He then for a few minutes looked through all of the files, looked back,and checked a few more times before finally pulling out a giant folder and slamming it down. “This here is the file about the team you two are going to be put on with me leading.” He told them as he handed the file over sounding proud of himself. The two bots in front of him both reached for it with Flash grabbing it after a couple seconds of confusion between them. “Let's meet your squadmates and you can read that as we go.” Delta said firmly as he passed them by into the hallway. Delta Squad DELTA MAGNUS Function: Squad leader . Alt Mode:Heavy assault missile carrier Appearance: Operative has the same basic silhouette as those in the Magnus line. Operative is predominantly green with red on his torso,chest,shoulder edges,joints,knee pads,hands,and armor. Operatives frame has his alt mode missile launchers on his shoulders impeding him when walking in corridors or doorways, he can make them erect yet this has its own set of problems. Operative has a mouthplate that covers most of his face with his green optics unobstructed. Weapons: Operative has high energy nucleon rifles built into his arms capable of paralyzing those shot or terminating them with enough power. Operative has a solar powered mace that has replaced his left hand but can also function as a cannon. Operatives alt mode cryo-missile launchers work in both modes. Mental Profile: Operative is the archetypal Autobot general, being kind and caring but making sure to be commanding when he has to be. QUICKFIRE Function: Tech whiz Alt Mode: High flying scout aircraft Appearance: Operative is very small compared to the rest of his squadmates. Operatives alt mode kibble is very prominent with his wings hanging off his legs but being small enough to not impede locomotion. Operative is a black with pink highlights lining his joints,limbs,cockpit,wings,and face. Operatives head has a helmet on it providing him with improved audio receptors and instant access to any nearby machinery to control remotely,courtesy of Wheeljack,but it does short out with prolonged usage. Operatives face has bright glowing pink optics,a very pointy smell receiver,and a constant grin plastered across his face. Weapons: Operative has a very small Plasma Musket and a combat knife for close quarters. Mental Profile: Operative is always trying to make new and better software applications and patches for his teammates against their insistence because of his need to help no matter what. Operative has a deep seated hatred of all Decepticons and has been having random panic attacks, with worse problems showing through despite his claims nothing's wrong. BOOMPOWER Function: Explosives specialist Alt Mode: Zero G energon mining vehicle Appearance: Operative is dark blue with a slightly lighter shade in a camo pattern. Operative has a scar across the front side of his torso from a mining accident. Operative still wears his old mining equipment for armor and has been adding extra holsters and pockets to his frame for his explosives. Operatives head has very prominent audio receptors that give him improved hearing. He has blue optics and a perpetual frown Weapons: Operative has a ununtrium covered drill used to pierce the heavens. Operative uses this in his interrogations and to bludgeon enemies. Operative uses a launcher that fires shells of superheated engex. Mental Profile: Operative usually speaks in a gruff imposing tone. Operative drinks to forget his problems, but when he drinks to much his gruff voice becomes a quick mumble with no one understanding him besides his Conjunx,Casket. Operatives rough attitude is just a ploy covering up the bot who just wants to stop fighting and rest. CASKET Function:Medic Alt Mode: 6 Wheeled medical ATV Appearance: Operative is a light golden color with a warm red on his hands,feet,knees, various crosses, and forehead chevron. Operative is a medium sized bot with a upgraded version of the basic medic frame. Operatives kibble is stored in a backpack that can turn into a medical tent and shield. Operatives head has a small chevron that curves around their head. Operatives face has a visor attached to the chevron that can slide down to cover his optics and gives him various forms of enhanced vision. Operative has blue optics. Weapons: Operative uses a syringe launcher that has various forms of ammo. Operative also uses a stun gun. Operatives melee weapon is a highly brutal bonesaw. Mental Profile: Operative has a caring personality yet the patients he's lost over the years takes a toll on his psyche making him pessimistic at best and nihilistic at worse. Operatives philosophy is “Medics can't stop death, they just make it a bit more bearable”. Operative sometimes goes into cycles of isolation and usually the only thing that gets him out is his Conjunx. They soon arrived at Grandus’ ship bay. With Delta leading the two bots down some stairs they soon arrived at their ship the Boson Bomber. “Everyone, these are the newest additions to Delta Squad. I want you all to tell them congratulations.” Delta commanded of the squad. “Nice job mates.” Quickfire said enthusiastically. “Great. More bots for me to fix.”Casket said as he shined his saw. “Just try not to die and you'll be fine.” Boompower told the new recruits, extending his arms for a handshake. They grabbed his hands and as he began the shake Flameflash could've sworn he heard something crunch. “Now that everyone's met we should get on the ship and start briefing for the mission.” Delta told his men as the ramp into the ship opened up letting everyone walk in. The ship was an old supply carrier that had been outfitted with fusion cannons and explosive payload capabilities. “So what's our mission chief?” Flameflash blurted to his commander from across the briefing room. “Yes. Without further ado I shall introduce JadeRaven,” Delta said as he turned on the holo screen in the center of the room showing a Decepticon with an avian alt mode who was a sickly green in color with some dark brown here and there.”Our intel has said he is trying to take the lower Tagan Heights manufacturing facilities for some unknown reason. Our mission is to find him and capture him if possible and find out his plan. Any questions...yes. Quickfire?” Quickfire put his hand down.”What the frag kind of a name is JadeRaven?!” ……………………………………………………….. Anger. Disappointment. These were the thoughts going through JadeRaven’s head as was standing in his CenCom Facility. The Autobots were in his troops sewing dissent towards him and leaking intel, and now an Autobot SpecOps team was close to ringing on his doorbell. “RubyWolf report to quadrant 3 sector 4.6”,he said as turned his wrist comm,”I need my logistics officer at my side to help command.” “At once my sire.” The con on the other end responded. JadeRaven had some of the most loyal lieutenants and troops out of all the Decepticon generals. He was once a part of a exploratory crew that crash landed in a unexplored part of space and was stranded there. He and the crew tried for solar cycles and solar cycles to get off the planet until they eventually gave up and tried living there. Overtime they found a source of energy that transformed them into mineral/beast hybrids. They were soon after able to call Decepticons that were passing by, with the mineral fueling their ships radio equipment. When he arrived at the ship he converted almost all the crew and troops of the ship into “Minanimals”, and when doing so it made those he transformed extremely loyal. “Yes, my leige, what do you need?” RubyWolf asked his commander. “I need you run defense program alpha 86. We're going to blow these intruders out of the sky.” After he said that his mobile fortress transformed with panels opening up and turrets popping out and started firing into the sky. Happiness. Relief. These were the feelings going through his head. ……………………………………………………….“H-Hold o-on every-ybod-dy this is g-goin-ng to be-e a b-bump-py rid-de”,Flameflash stuttered as he was piloting the best he could through the constant barrage of laser fire,”the l-lan-nding zone is up ahead.” It had been a long night for the crew of the Boson Bomber with them leaving at 5 breems after 6 PS, which left them flying through the Rust Sea for about 7 groons with a storm taking up almost half that time. 4 groons later they found a Autobot convoy heading to the lower Tagan Heights to try and take the area from Jade’s control. At around 12 groons after the start of their flight they arrived. “For Primus sake can you try and not get us killed ‘Flamer’!”Casket shouted over the blasts going on around the ship. “First, my nickname is Flash,and second,I'm trying best I can alright? So just sit back and let the pilot do his work!”,Flameflash said with a slight hint of annoyance in his voice,”See. We're landing right now. I told you I was good at this.” “As soon as we land get out and find cover! We'll move up through quadrant 3 and try to get to JadeRaven that way! Ready?” Delta asked as they finally landed. “Ready!” The squad repeated while they ran out of the aircraft before it even touched down, with Casket grabbing fistfuls of medical supplies and stashing them away, Quickfire putting on his helmet trying to hack some Decepticon turrets and failing, Boompower destroying some Con encampments and drilling into them, Delta freezing several enemies that were running away, Horse-Power shooting some cons that were occasionally peeking out, and Flameflash running up after landing a ways away. “*huff-huff* You *huff*guys need *huff* some he-aaahhh!!!” Flash yelped as he tripped over a corpse. “You really should be more careful. I honestly don't want to fix you this early into the mission.” Casket said as he was grabbing a Con in a headlock. “Yeah yeah, whatever Doc.”Flameflash retorted as he dusted himself off and shot a Con about to knockout his brother with him hearing a faint “Thanks!” in response. “ALRIGHT! We'll move up to the Comm towers,we'll split, take them, and call for reinforcements! Let's GO!!” Delta shouted rallying his troops as he transformed and provided a small opening for them to run through, with Boompower in the back providing covering fire. “Hey Autobot”, A Decepticon shouted at Boompower as he turned to catch up, “look out below!!” and as he said that the ground beneath Boompower burst open with plasma and fire licking at him burning the Autobot, then landing with a sickening crunch. “Oh frag!!! Boomy I'm coming to help!!!” Casket shouted as he turned around and saw his Conjunx land harshly. “‘Boomy? What kind of a name is ‘Boomy?!” The Con asked through his snickering laughter. “A very nice one!”, Casket shouted in the Cons face as he pulled out his saw and punched him causing him to stumble backwards. “Now, this may hurt some but I'll try my hardest to make you suffer.” Casket told him as the saw engaged it's “amputation” mode and he lowered it with a look of maniacal satisfaction on his face. “Wait, I'm sorry please no no-aaagghghh!!!!!” The Con pleaded as the saw entered his body at the waist and slowly moved up, tearing his spark in twain. Casket then ran over to his Conjunx still covered in the Cons energon. “Alright, where is the pain?” He asked as he cradled Boompower in the middle of the battlefield. “Everywhere. But the sight of you’s making me feel better already. Ow.” Boompower said as he tried getting up and almost fell but Casket caught him. “Aw, thanks. You flatter me but nothing compares to your-” Casket tried telling him before being cut off by Flameflash, “Stop flirting and get the slag over here. We need some big booms.” He said through the radio on the other end making explosion effects with his hands to accentuate what he said even though they couldn't see him. “*sigh* We'll get there in a klik. I have to carry Boomy though.” Casket told Flash as he transformed and used his alt mode repair bay arms to pick up Boompower, racing to everyone else's locations and trying as hard as he could to not hit bumps or to shake. As they arrived they could tell taking over the towers was going to be a lot harder than once thought. Missile batteries and Gatling guns covered the external layer of the buildings with even more guns and traps inside. Delta eventually decided on a plan to drill inside from the bottom and attack that way. So they sent Boompower to drill(against Caskets argument) enough to where they can get in but not to much so the Cons notice. ……………………………………………………….. “We're in position sir, do we go now?” Quickfire queried of his commander. “Yes. Move up.” Delta told the squad on the holofeed Quickfire had installed. “Oh yeah! Take this cons.” Horse-Power shouted when he jumped out of the floor hitting two cons, knocking them out. Quickfire and Flameflash crawled out behind him. “Can you possibly be more reckless and loud?” Flameflash angrily asked as he bumped into Horse-Power on his way to the door. “I mean, you are a real soldier, right?” “Yes. I think. Maybe.” Horse-Power said as he suddenly found himself lost in thought looking extremely let down. Quickfire walked up and tried to wrap his arms around his squadmates shoulders but could only pat their backs, “C’mon we're a team guys so go easy on each other.” “I guess he's right”, Flameflash said looking away and rubbing the back of his head, “well let's take this place over.”, saying this with a hint of regret he walked into the doorway there was a small clicking noise as soon as his foot touched the ground. “Hey guys. Do you hear something?” He asked looking over his shoulder. “SILENT ALARM ACTIVATED” rang through the base as guns and soldiers appeared out of every nook and cranny. “Oh frag. Let's move!” Horse-Power shouted while he moved through the door and ran up the stairs with his teammates following behind. “What kind of a silent alarm announces it's activated?” Flameflash questioned as he pushed a random Con into the firing path of a gun that barely missed him. The Autobots gradually found their way through the base neutralizing soldiers and shutting things down. They arrived at the control room after a a few kliks of running from some Decepticon goliaths, killing them by tricking them into falling out windows handily nearby.The team walked the door as sneakily as they could and peeked inside seeing a room full of mineral covered Cons. “Alright, the plan is uhhh…”, Quickfire trailed off going blank before fear flashed across his face, “NO NO, STAY AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE!!!” “What do we do!?” Flameflash nervously asked as the team engineer spasmed on the ground while the Cons slowly strolled towards them. “I don't know! Call Casket and ask. I'll cover you while you get him out of here!” Horse-Power shouted at his brother, he then pulled out his rifle and began to fire, but a Con covered in black minerals that appeared to transform into a crustacean grabbed his gun tearing off his hand along with it. “Ah ah ah, I don't think so little bots,” He smoothly told them while his maw chittered with each word. “JadeRaven told me that there was an Autobot team heading for us but I wasn't expecting a mentally deficient technician,” looking down at the murmuring bot on the floor then turning his attention to Horse-Power, “a daredevil that listens to no one's advice,” tossing his hand to him, “and a disgrace of a soldier who's only good attribute is that he spends to many cycles playing games.”, his attention finally landing on Flameflash. Quickfires holofeed turned on, “We have the tower under our control, do you have yours?” Delta questioned. The Con leader bent down and picked up Quickfires arm in his giant claw, “Yes, in fact I've had this for many Solar Cycles, or were you talking about your men? Cause if so...no they do not. But go ahead and try to free your men, but by the time you get here they'll already be dead. Signing off, Lobsidier.” Crushing Quickfires arm afterwards with him either not caring or not noticing. “Now”, Lobsidier said with glee in his optics, “let's get on to the suffering. Um….you there. Take the them to the torture room or whatever it's called and start the working two up with a bit of, oh I don't know, Straxian acid torture, and this one”, kicking the small mech in the face leaving gashes across it, “I think he needs some shock therapy.” ……………………………………………………….. Pretty soon they arrived at the torture chamber with the screams of the suffering echoing throughout. Horse-Power was brought to a unplugged recharge slab covered in what he hoped wasn't energon where the Cons strapped him down and brought over a slowly dripping beaker of acid.”Why is there a torture room in a comm tower?” was the one of the few thoughts in his head as he could feel the acid drip down melting through his cranial structure centimeter by centimeter. He couldn't help but scream. ……………………………………………………….. In the other tower the rest of the squad was mulling over what the Con called Lobsidier said. Boompower swung around after staring out the window, “We should be rescuing them Delta, not just sitting here.” “You bring up a good point Boom, but we don't know if he was bluffing. There's the chance we could go in and our teammates are dead or there's a chance he was serious,” rubbing his mouthplate unconsciously, “what do you think?” pointing at one of their prisoners. “I don't know anything about rescuing people, but I'll help you if you let me go.” Replying with hope in his voice. “I atleast know my way around this tower so it should be easy to navigate.” Casket walked over to the Con and pulled out his saw, “How do we know you're not lying.”, raising it to his captives face. Hesitantly he pulled up a holographic schematic of the tower showing he wasn't lying. “See, I told you. Now, if I give you this will you let me go?” Casket grabbed it out of his hand before lowering the saw but not moving it away from him, resting it near his torso. “Looks like he's right boss”, telling Delta before turning to the Con, “how did you get this?” “We all got these on our first day here, it's not some giant challenge to get one.” The Con said with a great amount of snarkiness. Boompower walked over to his Conjunx grabbing the schematic to give to his leader. “Well since we have this now let's go get our squadmates.” Boompower shouted with elation, ready to go. Delta's optics scanned the schematic trying to find the most optimal location for him and his soldiers to rescue the rest of their squad. “Let's call in some reinforcements and we'll try to take it by entering through the vehicle bay.” The Decepticon was finally let go by Casket but the Autobot kept his gun trained on him. “I don't really think that's the best way bot, I would radio for more guys, which is obviously what you should do, but the vehicle bay has no tactical advantage if your going to take control of the tower. I recommend going in through the top of the tower and moving down from there but I don't know how you’d get up there. Maybe get someone to fly you up there…” lingering before covering his mouth “*cough*me*cough*.” Keeping the snarky tone from before. Casket raised the sights of his syringe blaster to his optic, “One more snarky comment and your losing your head. Ok? Primus sake.” He muttered under his breath. “Alright, we’ll call in reinforcements and get uuummm, what's your name?” “Thunderstrike.” “Ok, Thunderstrike to fly us up to the top and take the tower that way.” ……………………………………………………….. “Frag you cons!!! Let us out!!!” Flameflash screamed to the torturers. “I’d rather not. I was told to do this and I listen to my boss. Also, this is quite fun for me. It lets me get out all my rage.” ........ And that's all I ever did. If (anyone reads this) you like this or hate it tell me your thoughts. Be as harsh as possible.

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Two Night Stand (Part 5)

Synopsis: (AU) You found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, you end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss. 

PART 4 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff sis

Word Count: 4,355

A/N: My WIFI connection has been cut off and I’ve been calling them to fix it and even going to the office but all has been met with failure. Here I am being a parasite on my neighbor’s WiFi and I hope she hell doesn’t mind, I have fanfics to finish!

“You’re wearing that?”

“What’s wrong about this?” I do a twirl, and a curtsy that sends Wanda laughing.

“You’re wearing a hoodie.” She throws a pillow at me.

“Hello? If you haven’t remembered, the media is out to get my no net worth ass.” I walk closer to the bed, “Don’t you like it Pogo?” he replies with a growl. Wow, okay you French feeling pup. I skim through my closet and think back Bucky’s last text.

“He told me to wear something comfortable. Is this not the true definition of that?” Wanda raises her eyebrows at me, pulling Pogo to her lap, making him shake his head. Okay, maybe I do need to try a little harder. The paparazzi is just really getting on my nerves, and even though we’re meeting this late, I know they for sure don’t have a curfew for anything. I mean, the nights are the best times for celebrity sightings! And the most ridiculous ones too! But sure, I’ll try and wear something nice. My roommate leaves my room as I try to think of decent clothes to wear. I pick out a white shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. Before I take Pogo’s leash, I put on my white converse. If comfortable is what he wants, this is the best I can do. I dab some red on my lips and give my little guest a wink.

“We’re matching,” I pucker my lips at him, waving his red leash in the air and he jumps like a lunatic. “Oh, I’m happy too, I can’t wait for you to meet prince charming.” Wanda grins when she sees me in the doorway. But it’s not just because of the outfit. I look up and I see him, holding flowers in his hand, giving me a megawatt smile. He’s wearing a blue bomber jacket on top of a black t-shirt, his arms screaming through the sleeves. I want to be those sleeves. My knees buckle, and Pogo runs to towards the man in the room, pulling me with him, my hand strapped on the leash. I need to work on that. Walk the dog, not let the dog walk you, right.

Pogo runs behind him smelling him, and I’m pretty sure Pogo just come out the closet, uhm hello? Who wouldn’t? I halt just before my body smacks into the bouquet he’s holding. I immediately blush, our face inches apart.

“Hi,” his voice sends me shivers, he’s smiling like the boy that he is.

“Hi,” I bite my lip, which makes him look down. Oh god I hope my teeth doesn’t have lipstick on them.

“You look wonderful,” I didn’t even realize we were whispering, until Wanda coughed behind us.

“You two aren’t in a library.” I whip my head back, she smiles back at me shaking her head. I feel Bucky’s breath on my neck as he spoke.

“Sorry about that, thanks for letting me in.” He’s intoxicating, I want to change plans and have Wanda walk the dog instead. She gives us the hand and walks into her room, the door clicking behind her. I laugh and look back at the beautiful man in our apartment. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” butterflies, someone do me an x ray, that’s what you’ll find. Pogo barks, good thing he did too, because we’ve almost forgotten about him. “I meant, we’re ready!”

As we head down, I’m glad Nick isn’t around to see my blush fest. He opens the front door and peek like the little criminals that we are. He gives a sigh of relief when no one’s outside, we run to his car and laugh while getting in. I sit Pogo on the back seat, and my eyes grow wide when I see a cute little dog seat strapped in the back. I look at Bucky, and he shrugs, a wide grin on his face. I can’t believe him; this is adorable! I place the French bulldog, comfortably on the seat and buckle his seatbelt on. His cute brown eyes beaming, he huffs, wrinkly face bobbing with his tongue out.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my heart pounding fast. He turns to me before turning on the ignition.

“It’s a surprise,” he winks. I hate surprises. I turn ahead and pray it’s not anything wild.

The drive was serene, the moonlight beaming, our hands intertwined, and my heart skipping beats every time he kisses my hand. Suddenly the car halts, red light in front. A rush of people pass the crosswalk, and we see Sam, burrito in hand devouring it like a caveman. Bucky’s eyes grow bigger and I crouch down, just in time for Sam to look into the Bentley. He waves his burrito quick, surprised at seeing Bucky driving alone with a dog huffing in the back, before continuing his pedestrian venture. Bucky sends him a quick salute, and a giggle to me. He shakes his head, I didn’t realize I’ve pulled his right arm down with me. He looks like his body had bels palsy, that posture is so bad. I sit back up and run a hand through my hair. Bucky eyes me, his smile too contagious to ignore.

“We’re here,” We drive to an arena, I push my eyebrows together, but it’s closed. He gets out and runs to my door, opening it for me. I look up, I don’t get it. He holds my hand and we start walking, my face still laced with confusion, and I know he knows how spaced out I am, but he’s leaving me uninformed.

“Are you a serial killer?” he shakes his head, “And Winnie uses her powers to cover your tracks?” he squeezes my hand. Pogo is trained to bite, right? I hear the dog shuffle through the dark, while I wear the loop of his leash like a bracelet.

“No,” he responds, laughing. He looks amused at my story. We walk to the back, to the fire exit, passing through the utilities, and the staff rooms. It’s pitch black, and without him guiding the way I would’ve been lost the moment I entered the doors. I try not to knock anything over, and make my footsteps light. Is this illegal?! Are we trespassing? Is this guy an adrenaline junkie? Is that why he likes me? He likes feeling like a Russian spy hiding relationships and going in other people’s property?! “What are you thinking about?” his voice makes me jump.

“What is this place?” I hold on to his arm, tight, making him smooth his thumb over the back of my hand he’s holding.

He pulls his phone clicking the flashlight on and waving it in the dark atmosphere. Suddenly, the lights open and I see that we’re inside a huge ice skating rink. I breathe out, this looks amazing. The ice the only one in the spotlight, the edge covered in darkness. I grip his arm with my free hand.

“Thanks Antonio!” I hear him shout, and out in the distance I see a man in the control room raise a thumb up. I gawk at the scene; we have the place to ourselves. “What do you think?” he turns to me.

“I love it, Bucky.” It looks amazing. He turns to me, his smile bright, I bite my lips excited but nervous. I’m never really good at this, or at least I don’t even remember the last time I’ve tried ice skating. Pogo tramples on my feet making me take a step closer to Bucky. He pulls my hand to his lips giving a quick kiss. I shudder, I can’t believe I’m here with him. “How did you-“

“My dad used to bring me here for hockey practice when I was younger. He grew a little competitive and became friends with Antonio, the caretaker – so I could practice whenever no one else is around.” I look around, astonished. I can’t begin to imagine him, a young teen skating through the arena playing hockey. I wished I would’ve said yes to my dad whenever he’d ask me to watch my cousins play, I would’ve known him sooner. My icky brace faced sixteen-year-old self. I shake the thought, never mind.

“I planned this ahead, not knowing we’d have a guest,” he looks at Pogo, his tongue out looking cute and goofy. “So, I hope you don’t mind if I leave him with Antonio for a bit.” I look at Pogo, then at Antonio, his white hair and his belly making him look like Santa Claus has come earlier this year, and when I see their instant connection, I smile and shake my head.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” Pogo runs to Antonio, jumping up and down.

“I’ll just borrow her for a while,” Bucky hunches down, petting Pogo on the head.

He pulls me to the stations and picks out two pairs of skates, giving me the white one, laughing as we can’t find anything that matches my size that doesn’t have fur on them.

“Guess I’m gonna play Chewbacca tonight.” He laughs as he crouches down to put the skates on my feet. I feel like Cinderella, I stare at him, heavily blushing, my heart reeling like it’s on cloud nine. Here is this boy tying my laces, his brown hair in soft luscious short curls, his touch is my kryptonite. He finishes tying them and looks up, my teeth unbuckles its grip on my lip, I look away, embarrassed that I’m even staring, but he just gives me a chuckle. His hand reaches up my cheek and I feel his cold touch on my skin, I tilt my head using his hand like a pillow as he closes in, our eyes feeling like they’ve been peering into each other for ages. His nose nudges mine, and in a second his lips caress mine, a quick peck sending electricity through my body. He stands up and reaches for my hand, my knees wobble, and before I know it, my body’s heading fast to the floor, he grips my waist as I rest my hand on his shoulders, tight and depending.

“I haven’t really done this in a while, so-“ I see his face etch with concern. “don’t laugh at me when I fall face first on the ice.” His hands on my waist feel like a warm blanket, I want them to be there forever.

“I will never let that happen, doll.” Doll, did I just melt on the floor? His right hand reaches for the hand that’s on his shoulder and holds it tight, helping me get to the rink. My feet seem to fail me, but I don’t mind, this is one of the few moments I’ll let myself fail. He’s holding both my hands as I try to steady myself; he on the other hand is sliding through the ice with finesse. We both laugh at how ridiculous we look. After a few more seconds, I get used to the ice, and gravity has agreed to give me a chance. I slowly let go of his hand and did a light twirl, bowing and pretending to hold my hands out as if I was lifting the corners of an invisible gown. He raises his eyebrow, putting one hand behind him, and the other on his stomach, lightly bowing. Bucky puts his hand out, as if he’s asking for a dance and I cover my mouth with both hands, acting coy and sliding away. His eyebrows furrow, his hand absently waiting in the air. I lift my index finger and I curl it inward, asking him to come close. He shakes his head, but follows. I stop at the far edge and as soon as he nears me, he holds my waist and I wrap my arms around him, tapping the nape of his neck lightly, I feel his breath on mine, and when his lips move towards me, I pull him, my lips on his ear, and I whisper.

“Tag, you’re it.” Before crouching and exiting to his right, laughing as I skate away.

“Oh no you didn’t!” He turns quick, and I see his lips curl up, clearly amused, Oh yes, come to mama. He races fast, his feet zigzagging through the ice, wisps of the ice and the blade of his skates clashing. It’s a laugh fest, I’m desperately trying to outrun him, and I’m basically lifting my feet off the ice and trying to make a run for it.

“Good things are hard to catch, Mr. Barnes,” I wink at him when I turn just before his hand could touch my jacket.

“Oh, but I’m very determined,” he winks right back. Oh, you bet, but let’s see if you catch me. I bend my knees and let the blades glide through the ice, hugging my body close. He skates, eyes aimed at me as I grab the handlebars and lift myself to stand. I turn to one of the railings, and just as I make a turn, he hugs me from behind, lifting me up. I laugh as he twirls me before putting me down. “Gotcha.”

I huff through my dishevelled hair, I feel like a kid. My back rests on him as his head rests on my shoulder. We spin lightly, I feel his heartbeat syncing with mine, the adrenaline slowly heaving down. I whip my head back, the arena growing silent once again. He gives my neck a quick kiss sending shivers down my spine, before lifting one of my hands and twirling me around to face him. The moment I face him, my hands land on his shoulders and his hands on my waist.

“Maybe we could hold our own little fashion ball here,” he whispers, pushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. He sways slowly and I follow, the ball is next week but I can already tell how this is already ten times better. No fancy themes, designer dresses, lavish decors or any glitter flying around. Swaying to the arena’s silence, with me in my thrifted leather jacket, my white shirt and my denim pants, feels like a ball gown when I’m dancing with him.

“Bucky Barnes wearing a blue bomber jacket, what’s that theme? The fashion world would be appalled.” I smirk, imitating the voice of media reporters.

“Well, if you’re that curious,” his tone becomes diplomatic; I try to hide a giggle in. “the theme is smitten.” Someone pinch me. I hate him he’s too much, here I am smiling like a lunatic. I hit him lightly on the shoulder.

“Stop!”

“What did I say?”

“Stop making me smile so much!”

“I should say the same! I look like I’ve got staples on my cheeks. I had a conference earlier and I almost got kicked out.” My lips form an “O”, my hands intertwine on the back of his neck.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not! If there’s anyone that should be saying stop, it’s me.” He brings his face close, his scent intoxicating, our noses touching.

“Do you want to stop?” I tease.

“Never.” And just like that, his lips melt into mine. It was gentle and soft, but it wasn’t long before our kiss became hungry. I moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. I didn’t realize we were so close on the edge, but I don’t lose focus when he lifts me up and sits me on the handrails surrounding the ice rink. He stands between my legs, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth and it’s not aggressive, it’s the perfect- perfect- perf- okay, focus, gone.  My hands reach his jacket and I push it back, I don’t care if we’re in an ice rink. I feel his smile in between our kisses, and he lets me push them off. I pull him close using my legs, wrapping him in, my body tangled in his. I feel his stiffness on my stomach, and I’m accelerated. Bucky lifts my hands up pinning them above my head as he continues his trail on my neck. “You taste so sweet,” he breathes into my neck, I’m gasping for air. I want him here, in the middle of the arena.

“Sir, Bucky,” Antonio coughs. I almost fall, but Bucky immediately catches me. “The dog peed on one of the bleachers, should I take it for a walk, just in case he-” I laugh into his neck. Thanks a lot Pogo. Bucky raises his free hand to address Antonio. Bucky stares at me, I bite my lip, and he whips his head back to the caretaker.

“You know what? You can lock up; we were just about to leave. We’ll walk him.” Bucky helps me get down, and crouches to get his jacket lying on the ice. “Love your timing, pup” He mutters as we skate back, his head shaking.

“I think he was just in time,” I spin to face him, my lips turned up.

“Oh really?” he raises his eyebrows at me. I get off the ice and he places a hand on the small of my back, proceeding to wrap the arm on my shoulder and pull me close, his breath tickling my neck. We both laugh, Antonio looking puzzled, red leash in hand, probably wondering what kids are up to these days.

-

“So that’s Natasha’s dog?” Bucky asks as we huddle on the top of his Bentley, our backs against the windshield and our heads into the stars. I thought the date was over, but I was happy when we turned up into a different street, going to one of the areas that near the bridge going out of the city. It was quiet, and empty, well not quite since he was with me.

“It’s her boyfriend’s dog.” I say as I wiggle Pogo in between my crossed legs. He has belly laid out and I’m happily giving him a belly rub. I feel like I owe him an explanation for my last minute plus one. “Nat found out- about…” Bucky grins at me, and gives me a quick nod, not needing any further explanation.

“You could say Steve gave me his own version of Pogo,” I look up, what does that mean? “He’s making me attend all his meetings so he could spend more time with his girlfriend.” Damnit! I need to find someone else for Wanda, but who would be stupid enough to think that Steve would be single.

“But I don’t mind,” he continues, “the late nights are perfect for sneaking out with you.” I flush.

“How does it feel?” his eyebrows meet in confusion. “To have to sneak around?”

“It’s definitely humoring, I’ve never had to hide anything from my mother.” I suppress a laugh, I didn’t really think he’d talk about Winnie, I was thinking about the media, but I guess she is the media. “Makes me feel like I’m batman.” he strokes my knuckles.

“I don’t think I’m cat woman, I’m more of an Albert,” he chuckles, and whips his head at me slowly shaking.

“You know, I find it a little odd how you’ve been my mom’s assistant for 6 months.” I raise a brow. What’s that supposed to mean? “No one lasts over a month, that’s why I’ve never bothered getting to know the staff, there’s always a new face in her office.” I turn my head at Pogo’s belly, is this an achievement? I’ve never known about that, but that might be the reason everyone in the floor looks at me with sorrow in their eyes, knowing I work for the devil in the building. The only reason I can think of why I’m still in this job is because she loves seeing me looking like hell.

“Thanks?” Bucky quickly realizes the tone of his words.

“Oh shoot!” he smacks his forehead, “I meant it as a compliment. You must be great at your job. No one seems to keep up with my mom,” Oh, you should see me running around the office on a regular day. I smirk at him.

“If acting frantically and not knowing the difference between plaid and flannel defines me doing a great job, thank you!”

“I didn’t know plaid and flannel were different?” he’s quick to find a loophole into a different subject. I pull Pogo upright and hug him tight as if I’m protecting him from Bucky, covering his ears in the process. Pogo huffs, surprised but cuddles the moment I rest him on my stomach.

“James Buchanan Barnes, only son of Winnifred Barnes, biggest fashion mogul, editor of the View, the most renowned fashion magazine, doesn’t know the difference between two of the most used fabric patterns?”

“I didn’t really spend a lot of time with my mom growing up, so I wouldn’t know the first five things on her mind when it comes to style.” Pogo looks up at me, his eyes telling me, look what you did, you made him sad. I open my mouth to apologize, we don’t have to talk about anything he didn’t want to. But before I could interrupt, he continues. “When she became the View’s editor, I was pretty young. She only ever attended the award ceremonies, but never the practices.” I feel my heart sink, I press my lips into a thin line. I could imagine Winifred completely forgetting about anything, being too immersed in her work. She wrote history when she became the new editor of the View, she was a new brand, she shifted the fashion world.

“I spent most of my days with my dad, but he told me mom did everything for me. When I started high school, I was shipped to boarding school, not against my will. I insisted on it, Steve was going, and I thought- so should I. He was my best friend, and being with him felt better than staying in Manhattan with my parents both at work 24/7.” Pogo and I are trying to keep our faces nonchalant, just as Bucky’s. But hearing that story felt much more different when it’s someone else. “It was a good decision, a great one. If I stayed at home I would’ve just hated my parents, but being away from them made it the best whenever I’d get the chance to see them during breaks.”

I’ve had a pretty normal childhood, I stayed with my parents considering we wouldn’t even have the bucks to ship me off to a fancy school in a countryside. I didn’t even get to go to the beach with my friends without my parents ‘til I was nineteen. I can’t imagine being away from them at that age, moving in with Wanda was the biggest leap I’ve made. And I tried not crying for months, hiding my puffy eyes whenever I’d video chat with my parents.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

“Did that sound sad? That wasn’t supposed to sound sad.” He lifts my chin up. He gives me a warm smile, and my expression falters, from sadness to entranced real quick. My grip loosens and just before Bucky closes in, Pogo jumps in the middle, his tongue on Bucky’s cheek, getting slobber all over him. And we both laugh.

-

I didn’t think this through, here we are walking to my apartment Pogo giddy and ecstatic but I’m awfully feeling the opposite. Bucky decided not to park his car so near after receiving a text from Wanda about a teen in our building tweeting she’d seen Bucky get out of his vehicle right in our front door. I guess he won’t be going inside our apartment anymore. But right now, on the street, I’m feeling a little paranoid. What if anyone sees me with Bucky? I could tell them I lost my dog and he found it for me? Upper East Side bachelor finds missing dog, I think they can wrap their heads around that. Bucky has his hands in his pockets and I’m glad there aren’t a lot of people here tonight, just a few people who’ve gone out for late night jogs and others, I have no intention of knowing why. I’m still pretty cautious, peering from left to right and keeping a socially acceptable distance between me and Bucky. And I feel him frown but he doesn’t invade the space I’ve created. Not completely distancing myself from him, I try to think of something to say.

“Who are you-“

“What are you-“ we both smile.

“You first,” I say.

“No, go ahead.” He tilts his head, a grin on his lips saying I’m not gonna win this one. I sigh in defeat.

“Who are you taking to the ball?” he looks at me like I’m a crazy person, I mirror the same expression back. “Hmm?”

“I’m not taking anyone, Y/N,” his blue eyes pierce into mine, serious. I feel sad that he’s not taking anybody, but then I’d for sure be devastated if he did. So, I guess I shouldn’t think so much about it.

“Oh, okay.” I bite my lip. “What were you gonna ask me?”

“I wanted to know what you were wearing to the ball,” I raise my eyebrow, what kink is this? He raises his hand defensively and continues, “I want us to have something similar, I want to be your date even if the rest of the world doesn’t know.” I want to pinch his cheeks, Winnie, I would like to award you with an award, how did she do it? Well maybe Winifred didn’t raise him to be this way, I mean, there’s still his dad. But I feel like I’m back in high school, my prom date asking me what tie he should wear so we can match. I find it funny how my boring life of taking calls and being Winnie’s shadow got me in this place, but here I am, staring into his crystal blue eyes, under the moonlight.

I bite my cheek, “I’ll send you a photo when it arrives.”

“Can’t wait.” He smiles back at me. Pogo lies on the concrete, as Bucky and I stop walking.

PART 6

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[arcanelaurels]

10:30 in the morning is the best time to post fics, right? Anyway, here’s more college au. It’s a departure (hee hee funny joke) from the first two chapters but I had fun writing it! Also, I should be posting all three finished chapters to ao3 some time today. 

Part 1 | Part 2

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Taako opened the door in a snap and grabbed Lucretia by the wrist. “Get in here.”

“Wh- Okay,” Was all she managed to get out as she was yanked into Taako and Lup’s apartment and dragged to his room. “Taako, what is this about?” She asked as he shut his door behind them.

He took a breath as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “I need your help.”

“My help?” Her tone betrayed disbelief. “With- Oh, shit.”

Her last comment was due to the fact that she had finally actually looked around at Taako’s room. It was a mess - more so than usual. If she didn’t know better, she’d say that his entire closet was strewn about the room. She did know better, though, so she knew that he still had many more clothes stashed away.

“Pick up your jaw and help me find something to wear.” He started sifting through some pants on his bed.

“But-” Lucretia shook her head and took an exasperated breath. “Wouldn’t Lup be more well-equipped to help you with this? Or...anyone else, for that matter?” She clutched her sketchbook closer to herself and tried to ignore the fact that her pants definitely didn’t match her shirt which also definitely didn’t match the flannel tied around her waist.

“Look,” Taako stood up straight and folded his arms. “Despite the fact that you’re a walking fashion disaster, you’re also the only one I can trust not to annoy me to death about this date.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” She said dryly. “Really appreciate it.”

“I’m the one who needs the confidence right now, homie.” He shoved the entire pile of pants off the bed and onto the floor with a grunt. “Try as I might, I don’t actually have an endless pool of self-esteem to draw from. And I’m sure you’ve gotta have some sort of fashionable eye with all the art you do.”

“One would think,” Lucretia muttered. She glanced around room helplessly before letting out a sigh of resignation. “Alright, well...why don’t we narrow down your options first? I’m assuming you don’t wanna wear pants?” She gestured to the newly-scattered pile on the ground.

“I don’t know!” Taako snapped, throwing his hands up in the air. “Those pants all look amazing on me but right now I hate every single one of them and I think they’re conspiring with the blouses to make me look like a gremlin!”

“Okay. Taako. Homie. You gotta chill.” Lucretia put a hand on Taako’s shoulder in an attempt to ground him. He glanced down at it in bewilderment as if it were some random woodland creature on his shoulder and not his friend’s hand.

He groaned in exasperation and fell forward into the pile on his bed. “I’ll just cancel,” Came his muffled voice.

Lucretia just stared at him for a few moments. She’d never seen him this stressed over a date. In fact, he usually seemed to relish in the getting-ready process. In picking out the perfect outfit and the matching shoes and the jewelry. Gods know he’d loved helping her out with preparing for dates (while loudly voicing his disbelief that she’d even gotten dates with her wardrobe).

She gingerly moved aside some of his clothes before sitting down on the edge of his bed. “You really care about this date, huh?” She asked in a softer tone.

“Is it that obvious?” His voice was still muffled.

“Well, your secret’s safe with me.” She reached out and patted his back a couple times. “Now get the fuck up and pull it together.” Her tone hardened with authority and she playfully - but firmly - shoved his shoulder. “You’re going on that date whether you want to or not.”

Taako made an indeterminate grumbling sound. “Director Lucretia is mean.”

“I told you to stop calling me that. Where are you going on your date?”

“Uhhhh,” He slowly pushed himself up. “The Chug N Squeeze.”

“Okay.” She looked around, then moved off the bed and gathered up the large pile of pants, hauling them back up onto the bed with a grunt. “Wear pants then.”

“But-”

“Pants are better for wheel-throwing.” She held up a hand to silence him. “And even if that’s not what you’re doing, I’m assuming you’d rather risk getting clay on a pair of pants than on one of your precious skirts or dresses.”

He let out a dejected “Yeah” as she immediately threw aside any pants that had sequins or glitter on them.

“Not even magic will help you if you get clay gunked up in these,” She said, holding up a pair of pants that seemed to be made out of blue sequins. Once she’d gotten the pile sorted into acceptable pants, she stood aside and gestured towards it. “Pick.”

After much debate and a lot of arguing, Taako eventually landed on a pair of slim, high-waisted, olive green capris. Tucked into them was a slightly ruffled white blouse (somehow the only “date-appropriate” blouse he owned that didn’t have a thousand things dangling from it). There’d been a lot of fighting over his footwear (“Close-toed shoes, Taako!” “If I’d known there were so many fucking fashion rules with this place, I never would’ve picked it!”), but they both ended up compromising on a pair of black, round-toe pumps. He’d repeatedly tried to layer a billion more things on top of the outfit, but Lucretia consistently stole things away from him and said the sleeves/tassels/etc would get stuck in the clay.

“Pottery sucks!” He shouted as she snatched a metallic gold vest out of his hands.

“You can’t just keep it simple for one night?” She asked, then glanced at the vest. “And this thing is hideous.”

“You’re wearing a flannel.”

“I need the flannel.”

“You need a girlfriend.” He shot back.

“Hence the flannel.”

“I liked you better when you were dating Lup. You were nicer to me,” He pouted.

“I thought I needed to impress you because you were her brother. My mistake.” Her voice was deadpan as she picked up a light pink bomber jacket that had been on the floor near her feet. “What about this?”

Taako’s ears perked up in both interest and surprise. “Not bad, homie, not bad.” He reached out and took it. “We’ll make a fashionista out of you yet.”

“Shut up.”

“Too late, I’m sending in your application to Vogue,” He teased as he slipped the jacket on and cast a quick cantrip to braid his hair into a loose side braid. He put a hand on one hip and cocked them - a near perfect contrapposto, Lucretia noted - then looked up at her expectantly.

“Looks decent.”

“You’re a wealth of compliments, ‘Creesh,” His tone was dry as he moved to his full-length mirror and checked himself out. “A marvelous hype man.”

“I try,” She said as she fell back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

He turned back to her. “Jewelry?”

“I’d just stick with earrings.”

“Ugh.”

They made idle chit-chat as he picked out earrings (”Those are way too long”) and sat down to do his makeup. Classes, finals, the weird Conjuration professor who everyone except Taako had (he was stuck with the rude lady that woke him up from his naps. The only benefit was that it was the class he had with Kravitz). Everyone swore that guy had a plant fetish based on how he talked about...things. There was also a running bet among the student body as to whether that professor and the Illusion professor were fucking. Their whole friend group had money on ‘yes.’

After some time, Taako turned around to face her. “How’s this?”

Lucretia propped herself up on her elbows to she could see. “Looks good. Can I go now?”

“Jeez, ‘Creesh, tell me how ya really feel.”

“I have to study.”

“It’s a Friday night! And you’re a Fine Arts major.”

“I’m a double major.” She sat up to retaliate. “Fine Arts and Abjuration. Remember?”

“Oh, right, like Abjuration’s so hard.” He rolled his eyes as he applied more lip gloss. “Complain to me when you’re studying a real school of magic.”

“Fuck you.” She crossed her arms and gritted her teeth against an argument. Of course Taako had to go and major in one of the most difficult schools of magic. There was hardly an argument she could make where he wouldn’t respond with pointing that out.

“Do you think I should wear my hat?” He asked after a few moments.

“Who would you be if you didn’t?”

“Good fuckin’ point, homie,” He said as he stood up to get his hat. He stopped with a confused look on his face and put his hands on his hips as he looked around at the floor. “Uhh.”

Lucretia groaned and dug her hand under the pile of clothes next to her, dramatically heaving the whole pile off the bed in search of his hat. It wasn’t under there.

“Hey! Watch it!” Taako dodged the potentially lethal mass of clothes as it scattered on the floor near him.

“You’re the one who lost track of his hat.”

“And making more of a mess is supposed to help?”

She ignored him as she chucked a pair of pants at his head.

He easily dodged it (rolled a 19) with an extremely annoyed look on his face. “I swear, if you mess up my makeup before this date-”

“Found it,” She interrupted as she held up his (slightly crumpled) hat.

“Oh, hell yeah,” He reached out and snatched it, then plopped it on his head. “Now my outfit is com-puh-lete.”

“You look devastatingly gorgeous, as usual.” Her deadpan tone made her compliment seem less than genuine, but he took it anyway.

“Lucretia, you old softie.” He winked and turned to the mirror to assess himself again. He somewhat nervously adjusted his shirt and jacket a few times and heaved a sigh.

“What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing, just…” He trailed off as he adjusted his hat, tilting it one way and then another. “Nerves, I guess.”

“You’ve never been nervous about a date before,” She commented.

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet. “Probably just because it’s been a while.”

“Or because you’ve been pining for this guy for months.”

“What?” He rounded on her with indignation, but there was a visible blush on his cheeks. “I haven’t been pining!”

She opened her sketchbook. “I kept a running tally of every time I heard you mention this guy. Would you like to hear the number?”

His ears drooped with embarrassment and he averted his gaze. “He’s just hot, is all.”

“You’ve said as much, which begs the question.” She closed her sketchbook and sat forward. “How come it took you this long to get a date with him?”

“I just...thought I’d approach this guy differently,” His voice took on an aloof tone. “For fun.”

“For fun,” She repeated, sounding like she didn’t believe him. “So you decided to wait to approach him so you could...what? Tease him? Give him a chance to date someone else instead?”

“I-”

“And didn’t you just get drunk and throw yourself at him anyway?” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes accusingly. “Doesn’t sound very well planned out.”

“Yeah, well-”

He was cut off by the sound of a knock at the front door.

“Shit.” Taako dove for a pile of clothes on the floor that his phone was buried under. “I lost track of the time.”

Lucretia scooched herself back on the bed and leaned against the headboard, pulling her knees up and propping her sketchbook on them as she started drawing something.

“What are you doing?” He watched her with an incredulous look on his face.

She looked up. “I figured I’d hide out in here until you guys leave.”

“You- Alright, whatever, I don’t have time for this.” He waved dismissively and left the room. “You better not still be here when I get back,” He said over his shoulder.

“Trust me, I don’t want to be.”

Taako paused at the front door and fixed up his outfit and hair one last time, readying himself to open it. Deep breath and…

Showtime.

#hooty hoo this one took a while #taz balance #the adventure zone #taako #taz lucretia #taakitz #college au #laurelscribbles

[reylohno]

A reluctant compromise

Pairing: Rey/Kylo Ren : Ben Solo  Rating: E  Summary: His thumb stroked the sensitive skin under her jaw, tracing her racing pulse. She forced herself to hold still, to repress the emotions his touch ignited. She liked to pretend that this was just another type of battle between them, as impersonal as a lightsaber duel or a shouting contest, because the truth was considerably harder to deal with. Force bond smut. Read on Ao3

Rey hurled herself into the Falcon right before the door closed. She lay panting on the floor for a moment before forcing herself back up on her feet. Her limbs were heavy, and her entire body ached. None of her injuries were of the life-threatening kind, but she could already tell she was going to have the body language of a frail old lady for a couple weeks.

Chewie made a concerned noise from the cockpit.

“I’m okay,” she shouted. “Let’s get out of here before the First Order figures out what happened.”

When the engines started humming, she was already staggering toward her cabin. Her blood still boiled with fury. If it hadn’t been for her, thousands of civilians would have died today. Because of a rumor of a rebel base, the First Order had blown up an entire underground city, trapping its citizens hundreds of feet below the planet’s uninhabitable surface. The Resistance hadn’t been able to stop the attack, but by placing herself in the city’s center and pushing upwards with all her might, Rey had been able to postpone the collapse long enough to finish the evacuation. She was the last one to leave—and the only one who hadn’t already fled the area when the city imploded.

After entering her cabin, she rummaged through her drawers, fishing out bandages, pain killers, and a set of clothes that weren’t covered in ash and blood. She was just about to head into the ‘fresher when an all-too familiar presence took shape in the corner of her eye. With his broad shoulders and unreasonable height, the dark figure immediately made the room feel cramped.

“What were you thinking?” he asked quietly, his voice vibrating with rage. His fists were clenched, and the intensity in his eyes would have made a wiser woman run for the hills.

“What were you thinking?” she countered, her rage sharpening every word. “Hundreds of thousands of civilians would have been dead right now if your plans hadn’t been stopped. They would have been dead because of you, you murderous swine!”

“General Hux has been given the order to find the Resistance. He’s allowed to execute it the way he sees fit—with one exception.” He took a step closer. “You.”

“Oh, no, you don’t get to do that,” she said, raising her voice. “Don’t make this about me. This is about you and—”

“If I hadn’t called off the third wave of TIE bombers, you would have been dead right now,” he interrupted. “I saw it. Your body, buried under tons of dirt on an abandoned planet, leaving the last remnants of the Jedi legacy to rot. A useless sacrifice for a useless cause.”

She raised her chin and forced herself not to take a step back as he closed in on her. “It was worth the risk.”

“You don’t get to make that decision.” His fists trembled. His body was like a rubber band stretched to its limits, tensed up and ready to snap. “You don’t get to throw your life away as if it means nothing.”

“Is that an order?” She snorted. “You have no power here, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.”

Her back slammed into the wall—her wall, his wall, she had no idea—so hard it nearly knocked the air out of her lungs. Gloved fingers encircled her neck, tilting her head back. The pressure against her throat was light, barely even noticeable, but his grip was as unyielding as a collar of steel. The gesture wasn’t meant to injure—it was meant to control.

A wiser woman would have feared this man. Rey didn’t. She stood tall, meeting his furious gaze without blinking. She wasn’t like his subjects in the First Order. He couldn’t frighten her into submission, no matter how much he tried.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t affect her in different ways.

His thumb stroked the sensitive skin under her jaw, tracing her racing pulse. She forced herself to hold still, to repress the emotions his touch ignited. She liked to pretend that this was just another type of battle between them, as impersonal as a lightsaber duel or a shouting contest, because the truth was considerably harder to deal with.

“You don’t get to disappear on me.” His voice was soft, but every word was tainted with red-hot anger. “I won’t let you.”

A quick glance at her lips was all the warning she got. His lips crashed into hers. It was a kiss born out of fear and rage, as smothering as it was passionate—not a gesture of affection, but a demonstration of power and control.

When she kissed him back, she gave as good as she got. She ran her hands over his broad chest before grabbing his shirt, pulling him closer. He groaned softly, and she hungrily swallowed the sound. The pressure against her throat increased slightly, forcing her up on her tiptoes. She answered by biting down hard on his lip. He hissed in pain and released her neck, burying his hand in her hair instead. His free arm circled her waist and held her tightly, eliminating the distance between them completely. Her anger transformed into scorching heat. Her body pulsated with need—and so did his, judging by the hardness pressed against her stomach. The mere thought of it made her tremble.

He noticed, of course. He always did. His lips formed a smug little grin. She swiftly wiped the expression off his face by shifting her hips ever so slightly, causing him to hiss sharply and dig his fingers deep into her hip. She smirked. He wasn’t the only one who knew how to play this game.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. She knew that. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren was a power-hungry, unredeemable monster, despised by the entire galaxy—including a major part of the First Order, if rumors were true. Unstable. Impulsive. Broken. A man beyond saving. Yet she still kept ending up like this, trapped in his arms, needing him more than she’d ever needed another person.

Just like he needed her.

He tugged at her hair and forced her chin up, baring her throat. His lips traced her pulse just like his thumb did earlier, trailing harsh kisses down her neck. Her knees threatened to buckle when his teeth grazed her skin. The bastard knew exactly how to make her bones melt. She buried her fingers in his shirt, focusing on remembering how to breathe.

The fog in her mind cleared up a little when she felt a familiar sting where his lips met her skin.

“Watch it,” she hissed. “People will notice.”

“Let them,” he murmured before latching on to her skin again right above her collarbone. She didn’t need a mirror to tell that the mark would still be visible in the morning.

“You…” She groaned in frustration. “You’re horrible.”

“I am.”

There was no shame in his voice. No regret. Just calm, casual, infuriating acceptance. And even though he made her blood boil with anger, she still didn’t stop him when he pushed her sleeveless jacket down her shoulders. If he stopped now, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. The fire within her had to be dealt with, or she was going to explode.

He’d won that round, but the game was far from over.

Moving him with physical strength was like moving a mountain, so she placed her hands on his chest and summoned the Force to push him a step back. She ripped his ridiculous cape off his back and proceeded to peel his clothes off, layer by layer. It was fascinating, really, how even his sense of fashion managed to tick her off. Just freeing his upper body took way more time and effort than she’d ever spent on an outfit of her own. In the end, he tore off the last layer himself. He never seemed to turn down an opportunity to lose his shirt, and she could understand why. His torso was a work of art.

The width of his shoulders had to be twice the size of hers, and his upper arms were bigger than her thighs. He was so damn huge, and hell, she loved it. In his eyes burned the untamable, uncontrollable flame that had brought an entire galaxy to its knees—still restrained, but on the verge of breaking free. His self-control was wavering. He was an explosion waiting to happen.  

She ran her hands down his chest, tracing his scars. No matter how many times she touched him like this, she always found a new one. He had countless of them. Burn marks, blaster wounds, badly healed scrapes—and a deep cut from a lightsaber. Her fingers followed the path her weapon once drew on him.

He trembled.  

Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach. She made him like this. He was probably the most powerful being in the galaxy, and there he was, falling apart beneath her fingertips.

Her hands slid lower down his abdomen.

“Rey…”  

She palmed him through his pants and ignited the explosion.

The scene shifted. She was suddenly no longer in her cabin but in a room with a glass floor and dark steel furniture with smooth black surfaces. His living quarters on his ship. Before she could even blink, he’d picked her up and placed her on the tall conference table in the middle of the room. With a quick wave, files and piles of paper flew across the room, clearing the surface. He kissed her hard before ripping her tunic apart.

“Hey—”

“If you just had some self-perseverance, this wouldn’t be a problem.” He tore her boots off her feet and threw them away. In the distance, she heard one of them knock something to the floor back in her own cabin. “You’re off limits. The First Order knows it. The entire galaxy knows it. There’s not a single soldier or bounty hunter out there who doesn’t know what would happen if they hurt you. And yet you still manage to nearly kill yourself.”

His eyes fell on a large bruise that was forming on her sternum. His face hardened. “The entire galaxy knows you’re mine. No one’s allowed to do you harm.” He pressed his lips against her chest, his hot breath dancing against the bruise. “No one. And that includes you.”

She wanted to argue, to crush his delusions about his claim on her, but her brain refused to form intelligible sentences. In mere seconds, he managed to rid her of all her dusty, blood-stained clothes—the wraps on her arms being the only exception. For some reason he always left them on.

She shivered. The table’s surface was cold against her bare skin. Her blood rushed to her cheeks as she realized that she was already wet enough to leave stains.

“Rey.” He exhaled her name like prayer as he his eyes roamed over her naked body. Her nipples pebbled under his gaze. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again with the desperation of a starving man.  

“You don’t get to disappear on me,” he whispered. “You don’t get to leave me here all alone.”

She swallowed hard and forced herself to remember how to speak. “Then stop slaughtering civilians.”

A pained expression briefly swept over his face. “You naïve little fool.”

He grabbed her thighs and pulled her hips toward him. Her elbows slammed into the table. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly went down on his knees. He spread her legs and hooked them over his shoulders, exposing her completely. She closed her eyes, her cheeks burning. She never got used to him looking at her like this.

“Come to me,” he murmured. “I’ll be good to you. You know I will.”

“It’s not enough. Being good to just me is not enough.”

His lips twitched. “We’ll see.”

His fingers dug into her hips, and then his mouth was on her. Her back arched, and a loud gasp escaped her lips. In the beginning, he’d been nervous and fumbling when he went down on her, but that insecurity was long gone now. He played her body like an instrument, and he knew exactly how to make her sing.

She’d never been with anyone else, but she suspected that if she ever were, she’d be gravely disappointed.

His tongue circled her, over and over, always with the perfect pressure and pace. Her gasps turned into desperate moans.

Almost there.

She lay back on the table and buried her hands in his soft hair. Her thighs clenched around his head.

Almost.

He stopped. The bastard just stopped. He released her legs stood up. The pressure from her thighs had caused his ears to turn red. If he turned around, she knew there would be two heel-shaped bruises on his shoulder blades. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Am I being good to you, Rey?” he said softly.

She clenched her jaw, her body trembling as it yearned for release. Damn him for doing this. Damn him.

He slid a hand under her back and pulled her up until she was once again sitting upright. Limp as a ragdoll, she let him maneuver her as he pleased. He pressed her against him and rolled his hips.

“Well? Am I?”

The pulsating need within her was growing intense enough to hurt. She swallowed her pride and nodded.

“Say it.”

Damn him. Damn him to hell.

“Yes,” she breathed. “So good.”

A shudder ran through him, and his hips jerked against hers. His restraint was clearly wearing thin, too.

“Tell me you won’t do that again.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face and cradled her cheek in his hand. “Tell me you won’t put yourself in danger for them.”

“Do you want me to lie?”

He pressed his forehead against hers. “No. I don’t want that.” He paused for a moment. “Then tell me you’ll try. At least give me that. Tell me you’ll try to stay safe.”

She considered it. All things considered, it wasn’t an unreasonable request.

“Fine. I’ll try. Now would you please just do something?”

She didn’t have to ask him twice. Moments later, his pants were gone, and he finally, finally, entered her. They groaned in tandem. The euphoria of becoming one spread through their bond. It was a rush she’d never experienced anywhere but in this strange in-between place she shared with him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as he began to move. He grabbed her hips and held her still as he pounded into her, harder and harder until she couldn’t really do anything but hang on and enjoy the ride. And enjoy it she did.

The veil between their minds grew thinner. Images from his mind crashed into hers. For a moment, she could see herself through his eyes—her head thrown back in pleasure, her back arched, her breasts pressing against his chest—and she could feel his burning need to claim her, just to make sure no one else got to see her like this. He wanted this side of her to be his, and his alone.

She couldn’t exactly judge him. She didn’t want anyone else to see him like this either. This Ben belonged to her.

The heat grew even faster within her this time, picking up where it left off minutes earlier. She dug her heels into his back, probably leaving even more bruises, but she didn’t care. She just wanted more. More, more, more.

“Ben,” she moaned. “Be—”

One of his hand found its way to where their bodies met, and with a precise flick of his thumb, he pushed her over the edge. The heat was suddenly everywhere all at once. She cried out as the waves of pleasure spread through her body, pulsating through her veins like liquid wildfire. The high was incomparable to anything she’d ever experienced before she met him. They were two parts of a whole, becoming one in the most primal way possible. The satisfaction the union caused was out of this world.

Seconds later, her euphoria was joined by his. With a groan, he spilled himself inside her. Her head lulled against his shoulder. She was out of breath and out of stamina, and she had a hard time holding on to the anger that started all this. She hated him, probably, but she couldn’t quite remember why.

He pulled out of her and gently ran his fingers through her messy hair. He looked as disheveled as she felt. After quickly pulling up his pants, he scooped her up with ease. The scene changed, and they were suddenly back in her cabin. He put her down on her small, uncomfortable bed and then proceeded to lie down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, tucking her head in beneath his chin. She hesitantly adjusted herself until she’d found a comfortable position. Cuddling wasn’t generally a part of their routine, but his need for intimacy was so severe she couldn’t bring herself to throw him out.

She’d scared him today. Genuinely scared him. He’d lost his father, his uncle, his master—and now, he was facing the fact that he might one day lose her too.

He was way too large for her bed—for her entire cabin, really—but it didn’t seem to bother him. He absently combed her hair with his fingers and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. His thumb drew circles on her hip. The contrast between this man and the one ruling the First Order was jarring. She had a hard time understanding how a violent warlord, infamous for having the most explosive temperament in the galaxy, could be so unbelievably gentle.

She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. Her tense muscles relaxed. No one infuriated her like he did, but nothing calmed her down like being near him either. He made her feel safe. She blamed the bond. It had to be the bond.

There and then, it was hard to pretend that what had transpired between them was just an ordinary, impersonal battle, but she’d probably come up with some unconvincing excuse later. Fooling herself was, after all, way easier than facing the truth.

“I…” He cleared his throat. “I’ll try too.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Try what?”

“I’ll try to make the First Order stop slaughtering civilians.”

She let out a short laugh. “That’s a start.”

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo smut #tlj spoilers

[champofpallet-moved]

Ch 1: Terror Strikes Saffron!

It was another peaceful day in the Kanto region, more specifically in Saffron City! The sun was shining, the temperature wasn’t too hot, and the breeze felt nice. However, on days like this one trainer always felt bored. His name is Nobusuke Yamazak, but to his friends he is simply known as Ri. Ri laid down in the yard in front of his family’s Dojo and looked at the sky “another peaceful day in Saffron City…” he exclaimed with a yawn. Normally, he would spend time with his family, but his father and mother were out of town, and his sister was hanging out with some friends. Ri was never one for slow days, just the thought of there being nothing to do made him uncomfortable, he let out a sigh before sitting up, unclipping one of his Pokeballs and looked at it in deep thought “I wonder what Red is doing…” it had been a month since Red and Ri were together last, he could remember all of their adventures, from their first meeting when Ri complemented Red’s outfit, to being locked inside of Pokémon Tower in Lavender Town by mischievous ghost types, to even saving Red’s life from an escaped Scyther! Ri stood up and clipped the Pokeball back onto his belt, he adjusted his glasses and tightened his gloves “that does it, I’m gonna find Red!” he announced as he raised a fist in the air and began to make his way to the entrance of Saffron, however, just as he was approaching, he noticed three men dressed in black clothes standing around an Electrode “Team Rocket? No that can’t be, Team Rocket’s been disbanded ever since Red beat their leader” he thought, he was curious though. So he got closer to hear what they were talking about. What he didn’t know is that this group was a notorious gang bombers and former members of Team Rocket, calling themselves the Rocket Bombers, specializing in Pokémon that learn the move ‘Self Destruct’ they blow up cities and small towns, and it looks like Saffron was there next target. Thankfully the building they were close to was an old, abandoned office building, “alright electrode, when we give the word, you use self-destruct!” one ordered! Ri knew this was trouble; he had to act fast, save the day like Red would do! “Not on my watch!!” he yelled out as he jumped out of his hiding spot “shoot, we’ve been spotted! We better make this quick and hope we get out in time!” another one shouted and the three ran past him “electrode, now!” the third one commanded, Ri watched as the bombers ran off, “stop!” he yelled, but before he could follow them, Ri looked back and saw that the Electrode was flashing faster! He had to get out of there! He quickly ran and got to a safe distance just as the Pokémon blew up! Once the smoke cleared, Ri saw that the building was still standing, he knew it wasn’t going to be like that for long, so he tried to get to another safe spot, however he heard two voices ring out “Joey get away from there!!!” a mother called out “but look Mama, rocks are falling off the building!” the child replied as more people arrived and tried to call him back. This can’t be happening, the building as already starting to crumble and there was a child close to it! Ri knew he had to move fast and get the child to safety, he took off back to where he was before and pushed the child out of the way, unfortunately, there was no time for him to move as the building was already starting to fall to pieces, he looked around in hopes of finding an escape to no avail, Ri simply stood there and braced for impact as the building fell on top of him!……….

Silence……that’s all that remained as the horrified people of Saffron watched as Ri was consumed by the destroyed building. Once the dust cleared, everyone returned to the area, filled with fear, sadness and anger “Ri, h-he sacrificed himself to save my son…” Joey’s mother said as she tried to comfort her crying child “look!” on man cried out, noticing a piece of cloth attached to some debris “it’s his ‘R’, the blue ‘R’ he normally wears on his vest…there is nothing else….” Tears began to fall from the faces of the people, “who will tell his family?” some asked “who’s gonna tell Red..?” they knew how close Ri and Red were, some would consider them brothers, others even suggested they were closer than brothers… “I’ll tell him…I don’t want to…but he has to know…” another man said as he grabbed the piece of cloth and left to find the champion and tell him the heartbreaking news…the others were left to mourn…unaware the area of debris were Ri was standing slowly began to move…… Chapter end

((based on this post, hope you enjoy! oh and sorry for the feels!))

#manylegendsaretold #I am crying #this is so good! #submission

[statemant]

AN ODE TO GEORGIA - VETEMENTS SS 2019

JULY 1, TBILISI, 7:11 PM – I’m sitting in my kitchen with two of my friends and sipping final gulps of homemade iced coffee to bite with incredibly hot weather  outside and scrolling my Instagram.

I know that VETEMENTS show is about to start, almost everyone who I follow has live tuned on and the show starts. The quality of the live stream was not perfect but I could spot long narrow table, where models started walking and guests were “served” with the latest VETEMENTS outfits while sitting around it. With each new VETEMETNS show announcement, I always think what’s gonna be the next offering from Gvasalia brother, since we all know how they’ve revolutionized and “disrupted” the industry and their unusual runways is one of the biggest part of the brands’ entire aesthetic. It was the same here, I was intrigued to see just for the sake of interest. When first three looks appeared, music started and models were walking with usual VETEMENTES-que “rush”, I thought, well, ok. But then I’ve screamed, shouted (my friends looking scared at me) and had goosebumps all over, since fourth look featured a hoodie saying “ტანსაცმელი”, which means “clothes” (or “VETEMENTS”) in Georgian! None the less! Then another one saying “გაზაფხული/ზაფხული” (that translates as “Spring/Summer”), then “უფალო შეგვიწყალენ” (meaning “god bless us”) and finally the Georgian flag printed anorak jacket..

I wanted to cry, for various reasons:

First – finally, it was the collection I was waiting since the appearance of VETEMENTS in fashion scene and I was absolutely sure it would happen once! Second - it felt so emotional to see someone pay tribute for my (and his) native country. And the 3rd that I’m an asshole and did not stay for few more days to attend such a historical and monumental show! Cause I was in Paris days before the show but could not stay for additional 3 days (I could manage to attend the show), because I spent all my money at shopping (mostly on VETEMENTS actually!) and did not spare more for 10 minute event, which I regret now VERY VERY VERY much!

It might be hard for someone, non-Georgian, to share same excitement as I have for this particular collection, but it’s definitely a moment which made even most non-fashion-related Georgians interested and very proud. It quickly became a major news for local tv and online media. As more facts became clear, it felt even more special for all of us – appears majority of the models were just regular Georgian boys and girls, selected by VETEMENTS casting directors right here, in the streets of Tbilisi. Collection featured some fresh “ugly” sneakers, signature dad shoes and combat boots, 

various tailored pieces (my favorite VETEMENTS category), 

some white hand-painted “graduation” shirts  (which were actually painted in Tbilisi by locals, in various night clubs), 

opening model wore a nude shirt covered with the types of tattoos Georgian prisoners would get to flaunt their mob ties, 

there was a signature Alpha Industries bomber with a message -  “We dance together, we fight together” -  dedicated to the police raids held few weeks before the show in most famous local night clubs here “BASSIANI” and “CAFE GALLERY” and a massive two-day rave at the center of the city with the same slogan as above. 

Leather jackets and suits were finished with zip up hoodies, masks, covering the faces of the models (as a symbol of unknown or no identities), 

target prints symbolized the bullets that were once aimed at Georgia. 

Georgian flag was seen in various colorways, including one in a rainbow - more or less provocative for local standards. 

Besides the floral dresses (already a strong brand signature), we have seen a fabulous wedding gown at the finale of the show (worn with some classic white pumps, while some other variations featured a upside down Eiffel tower as heel) 

and one off special maxi skirt, painted by Demna himself, and will retail for around 15 000 EUR (pictured below).

Finale of the show has brought highest emotions: it featured modernized version of Georgian national dance music and with all the Georgian models walking on this imaginary “wedding table” wearing Georgian alphabet features on that music, in Paris, on the center of fashion’s most important players, was just…terrific!

WATCH THE FULL SHOW 

In a post-show interviews, VETEMETNS creative director Demna Gvasalia said:  “I went back to my past in Georgia to face my fears and painful moments…like post Civil war and everything there in the ’90s, and I made the most personal kind of fashion proposition out of that. My house was bombed and it was destroyed. My grandmother, for one week, she didn’t have memory. These are all the things that influenced me, experiencing that when I was a child. I feel everybody today talks about war, refugees (and the show was held on 19th Arrondisement of Paris, which is now surrounded by refugees). And I am like, yes, I know exactly what that means. It's weird. This is about my life, but also it's about everything you see on CNN, as well," said the designer.

Here’s what’s behind the story: Sukhumi (Demna’s and his family’s hometown, capital of Abkhazia region, now occupied by Russia, for more than 25 years) was one of the epicenters of the Georgian Civil War at the beginning of 90’s. A strong ethnical conflicts have resulted into 30,000 killed humans and around 250 000 refugees – including Gvasalia and his family (here’s full story behind the Civil War). Also, here you can listen an exclusive rare radio interview with Demna via Radio Tavisupleba.  

For me (and my entire nation), as a Georgian (even if I was just 1 or 2 years old during that Civil war), it’s very important to spread the message to the world what was our past and how we have come to the present times, what my parents and grandparents generation had to overcome to make Georgia a safe place to live. Demna has went through his entire youth traumas and came out with the most sensational VETEMENTS collection to date.

Besides all the Georgia-inspired pieces (which were mostly VETEMENTS classic fits, hoodies, oversized silhouettes and deconstructed denim) there were Russian, Ukrainian, Turkish (also a homage to Demna’s mother heritage) and US flag anoraks featured. These are countries that mostly influenced and affected Georgia (and Demna himself in various aspects) over the years, especially after 90s’ post-soviet era. Featuring Russian flag has actually generated mixed emotions between locals in Georgia (as I mentioned it became a major discussion topic in social media for a few days) with some mentioning that it kinda ruined entire thing and putting a huge flag of the country who has 20% of Georgia occupied (and continues to grow this share) was unnecessary and it at least should feature some protest slogans. I think (and majority) it actually felt absolutely right and genius to put a Russian flag on this specific collection, since if you want to tell us about the history of Georgia, it’s just impossible to miss Russian Federation and all its activities against us.

As for the cast, those 40 people, that Demna and VETEMENTS guys brought from Georgia, he said: “They represent for me what I represented when I came to Europe years ago - that certain naivety and voice they don’t think they have in their country”. I’ve asked some of the guys after they got back to Tbilisi (cause they are all friends of friends), what did they feel about the entire thing, some of them had just same feelings as me, some mentioned that they still didn’t filter in their mind how and what happened to them, since for majority it was not only first runway show ever, but first touch to the fashion industry, overall. But all of them were proud that they now became kinda part of the history.

It was a 10th collection of VETEMENTS, it will be hard to name brands that gained such an incredible success in such a short time and had influenced not only young but many of the well-established labels. Demna is a so-called “Margiela kid” himself (and that sensational Margiela exhibition at Palais Galliera in Paris is a proof of that) and he even mentioned how he got back to his design roots with its previous collection, entitled “The Elephant in the Room” (FALL-WINTER 2018, see here) where he has fully exploded what he does the best (some of the buyers and editors mentioned with me that label was kind of “back on track” with that collection, after not so-satisfying SS 2018, which was just re-edition collection, see my visit to the presentation here). And this latest “Georgia” collection was a continuation of his growing personal approach to the clothes: “It’s a very different way of working for me because I always did shows that were just about clothes…nothing else really mattered for me. But I think I’ve changed and probably my approach to fashion also changed. My interests changed. I realized that I need some storytelling next to making just clothes. Last season, it was going back to understand my creative roots. That’s why there was an elephant in the room, the whole Margiela, questioning creativity. This season I went back to my actual roots, which is this country that is troubled and that really shaped me creatively and also who I am.” – Demna said.

As VETEMENTS CEO Guram Gvasalia mentioned, they have sold more of this collection than any other recent ones (and even Demna told that once he made his personal order of the collection, he found it was biggest to date), which is very interesting for me, since it means that spreading the message (and not just selling a garment) is a cruicial part. Me and my natives have already been shocked or made fun of fashionistas from around the world wearing our grandparent’s wardrobe inspired clothes (that can be also found at second hand markets for 500 times cheaper than VETEMENTS), oversized outwear (that our parents were buying in bigger sizes, on purpose, to last for few years, while we would grow in height and weight) and table cloth print shoes, but I actually can not wait to see entire world wearing this particular collection pieces and I’m sure I can read a lot in Georgian during my next fashion week visits on everyone’s chests or shoulders.

One more note (just in case), I have met Guram year ago in Paris during their SS 2018 presentation and mentioned how popular they were in Georgia (I mean, they are! They have crazy fan pages and dedicated TV shows). Demna must be one of the most famous Georgians ever (on the international scale) and the fact of him not being heterosexual (and Georgia is known for its homophobic issues) does not affect the pride that most of the locals have (because of him)! After the latest show, I’m sure their fandom will double and the respect will move to another level, cause he is the man who could manage to tell the history of the country to the world, just in 10 minutes, without even a single word!  Below, you can see the guy wearing custom-made cap, outside VETEMENTS SS 18 show, campaigning for Gvasalia as President and I think it never made more sense than it does now, after the show. And btw, that guy is actually ME!

And here’s me again, with my version of VETEMENTS definition, that I made 2 years before the show to show everyone the native heritage of the brand and “translate” the word for them, during the fashion week. 

#STATEMANT #OBSESSIONS #PERCEPTIONS #VETEMENTS #DEMNA GVASALIA #GURAM GVASALIA #PFW #PFWM #SS 19 #SS 2019 #GEORGIA

[blyanten]

THE DUCK AVENGER PK2: #4 MEMORY LINES

It’s Stella’s birthday! And Rupert has no idea what to give her, despite having bought enough gifts to fill a shelf in his locker. The man needs to relax.

He asks Donald for help to find a good gift, but Donald is distracted by some work happening outside. There’s some people working on an antenna, including Anymore Boring, and surely Everett wouldn’t send one of his personal assistants unless it was important.

Anymore is also annoying the actual workers, because Everett has given his own personal instructions on how this job is supposed to be done, and it goes against the ten years of experience the workers have.

Donald didn’t get any of that as he’s too far away, but Rupert interrupts his staring, asking if he’s still with him. He goes on to say that Donald has a girlfriend, so surely, he knows what to get on an occasion like this.

Because if one woman likes something, surely another one will as well. There’s a reason this guy is single, despite being hung up on a woman who’s so into him she tolerates repeated instances of him shoving himself up against a window and drooling at her.

Donald tells him to forget Daisy, asking what he got Stella the previous years.

Yeah… though I think he’s getting somewhere, notice how Stella’s outfit gets fancier every year.

Rupert and Donald are in fact finished for the day, but Donald still doesn’t get to focus on what Anymore’s doing. First Rupert distracts him, and then shouting can be heard from the mall. They go back in, getting to the electronics store before the guards currently on shift, to find an old lady smashing up the place with a umbrella.

I appreciate the detail on the umbrella here. You can tell that thing is going to be ruined.

They take her down, thought she lands a blow on Rupert’s head. This is when the actual security guards show up, acting more like emergency personal. The old lady doesn’t remember anything, but Donald makes note of the incident and the man with long grey hair and a green coat that was taking notes.

Not suspicious at all, right?

It’s not the first incident though. So far a plumber has blown up fifteen hydrant and a postman set eighty mailbags on fire. While Donald ponders this, Rupert is sharing his romantic woes and failed attempts at asking Stella out. From the sound of it, the problem is that he’s not actually asking.

Damn right it does.

Donald, not actually thinking about Rupert’s problems, goes with it anyway, and tells with him it’s time to be honest with Stella. Also, he’ll deal with the gift. Rupert thanks him, claiming he wouldn’t know what to do without him.

This is a great panel.

Donald goes on patrol, having gotten used to relocating every night. This night, he’s been hiding in a Duckmall mascot. It turns out to be an easy night as far as finding trouble goes, since the sound of sirens is pretty much the first thing he hears.

This time, it’s a guy threatening to jump of a building. And just for fun, he’s wearing a bomb. People panic, the guy jumps and the Avenger grabs him right out of the air.

Sure, because if One told you to let the guy fall, you’d have let him become street pizza. Sure.

The bomb turns out to be fake, it was all a show. A quick chat with the cops also reveal that the guy was squeaky clean, no reason to think he’d ever do something like this.

The Avenger turns around and grey hair/green coat is back.

I keep getting distracted by the guy in the orange t-shirt. Damn, son, might want to focus on something other than the chest muscles in your next workout.

While it’s not impossible that some people are just unlucky enough to end up in two different incidents in the same day, especially not loud and messy ones guaranteed to draw an audience, the Avenger is feeling a bit short on ideas and decides to follow him.

Grey hair is named Hired Squarie and works at Duckburg University as a professor in Sociology of Urban Legends.

Considering Duckburg, I feel this explains his chill.

He also has some questions about emotion sucking extraterrestrial vampires, which I appreciate on a continuity and a “no, you actually can’t cover that up 100%” level, but the Avenger isn’t interested in talking. Not about that anyway.

So the prof. invites him down into his secret archive, complete with a hidden entrance behind the bookshelf. The archive is gigantic, so presumably it’s a quirk left over from the building’s previous owner.

The prof has also done research on every person who’s recently shown signs of disequilibrium, putting it mildly, and guess what they have in common?

Yep, they all worked for Everett Ducklair.

Which brings us to this scene!

Liathcat called Everett the King of Creepiness, and he earns the title in this scene.

Listen, by the time it seems reasonable to install a one way mirror in your daughter’s bedroom and watch her sleep, at least one of you should be in the hands of professionals. Note that I don’t say what kind of professionals.

When you have more money than God, you can find a better way to keep an eye on your kid than this. Come on.

Anyhow, while Juniper wakes up and gets dressed (no, he’s not watching that part), Everett does a vaguely menacing monologue about how she looks like her mom (please… stop. This is sooo not the time or place for that kind of talk, no matter how true) and how he’s trying to be a good father for both her and Korinna. 

That’s why he took them away from their mother.

Back to the Avenger, who is trying to break into Ducklair Tower. This time it’s actually pretty easy, which seems weird, considering how it usually goes, but he gets to Everett’s office without incident.

Everett isn’t there, but Birgit Q is.

Are you trying to claim that chair is comfortable?

She claims ignorance, but the piles of papers on the desk proves she’s lying. She gives in, telling the Avenger that they’ve noticed both the incidents and the connection, but beyond working for Everett, there isn’t one. They worked on different projects, in different departments and never had any contact.

But, hey, if the Avenger thinks he’s better than her, he can take the information and knock himself out.

He does.

And then heads straight for Duckmall because he’s late again. He’s also forgotten Stella’s present. After considering a power drill, jewelry, and other option, he goes for perfume, and manages to buy it before running into Rupert.

Rupert is grateful, and takes the present straight to Stella.

Donald’s problems are not over, however, as someone’s noticed his incursion in the Duckmall mascot, and Fitzroy is on his way to check it out. Donald offers to go, but for some reason this is worth fighting over. 

I guess the entrance is really boring.

While Donald runs to hide his equipment, Stella opens her present and finds anti-wrinkle cream for aged skin. So after running up every stair in Duckmall, Donald now has to deal with that.

That’s one hell of a “I’m surrounded by idiots” face. Or, y’know, he’s tired, but I like my interpretation better.

Donald takes Stella aside and tells her Rupert chose that cream because he wants to be near her until she actually has use of it. It’s a very symbolic gift.

See, this is what happens when you actually make a move.

Stella melts and accepts the invitation to watch a movie. Rupert is on cloud nine, but Donald has no time to listen to his thanks as Angus is on TV, because a teacher has taken a train filled with schoolkids hostage.

That... didn’t actually escalate fast, considering that explosions and fire have already happened off-panel.

Angus tries to interview a cop by claiming that the parents have a right to know. The cop points out that the parents have already been informed, because duh.

Birgit shows up, along with a team of mercenaries, and attack the train from the other end, where no one can see them. 

In an armor with ED written on it. Secrecy, not found.

The Avenger shows up and stops them, refusing to let them play games with the lives of children.

Unfortunately, it’s his appearance that makes the teacher start shooting. Thankfully, through the roof. Birgit and the Avenger springs into action.

At least they’re efficient.

Birgit and her team takes the teacher with them, because Everett wants to know what’s going on. The Avenger tries to make it clear that he wants to speak with Everett personally, but the cops show up, and Birgit leaves him to handle it.

The Avenger does, leading to this.

Suck it, Angus.

The Avenger convinces the cops to let him handle the teacher, Angus realizes he now needs a new target and Hired shows up with new information.

Turns out the people going crazy all over town does have one more thing in common.

Microchips in the brain!

The Avenger is now pissed, and takes the short route to Everett’s office. 

Straight through the window.

He ties up Birgit and orders her to talk. She snarks at his tough guy routine, but does talk.

The chips are from an old project, made during Everett’s “everything can be a weapon” phase. The chips controls people’s behaviors, making them perform certain actions. Remote controlled suicide bombers, basically. Though, less on the suicide part.

Unfortunately, Everett is just too busy to deal with this himself, so Birgit got the job, and as far as she can tell, there’s one left.

Who could have seen this coming?!

The Avenger decides to go alone at first, but when Birgit tells him he has until 18.00, at which point Hired will blow up a building, he decides to accept some help.

He leaves and Birgit notes to herself that her mom always did think she could have been an actress. In case you were still under the impression this wasn’t some kind of set up.

They barge into Hired’s office, terrifying his secretary. The Avenger leads them down to the archives, but to avoid potentially causing Hired to set off the bomb early, the Avenger sneaks in through the airvents.

Unfortunately, going too close to Hired causes him to threaten to blow the bomb right there and then. Backing off calms him down, but that leaves them with the problem of how to stop him.

Birgit, having entered the archives properly now, wants to do it the easy way and shoot him. The Avenger refuses to sacrifice anyone to Everett’s craziness. They then proceed to argue until time runs out.

Saved by slow human reflexes!

The day is saved, Birgit will take Hired with her to get the chip removed and he’ll remember nothing. The Avenger is okay with this, because… the fight with Everett is a private one, I guess? He’s still angry though, and tells Birgit he hopes Everett will stay out of his way from now on. She argues that the Avenger is in Everett’s way, but suggests they put that aside to celebrate.

The Avenger turns her down, as the last few days lack of sleep is catching up to him.

Back at the tower, Birgit changes back into her business suit, feeling rather satisfied with herself. Great mission results and no losses this time. It’s a win.

She finds Everett in his office, reporting that the mission went great. Everett says he had no doubt, but remarks on the broken window. But it’s all just details.

Birgit is a bit insulted by that, not considering her mission a detail, and Everett agrees. It was all part of a greater plan. He then asks Anymore Boring how his job went, and Anymore reports that it’s done. Whatever was up with those antennas, they’re now ready.

A shame we never got to see you two really work together.

Everett tells them to go back to their ordinary jobs, unless Birgit has questions. She does. Like why she has to distract the Avenger for two days, while Anymore does his job? The last part she only said in her head, but Everett responds by saying that Anymore’s work is just as important as hers, and sends her away.

She goes, not liking the feeling that sometimes, it’s like Everett can read her thoughts.

We know. You already said that in #1.

#pkna #pk2 #duck avenger #review #sort of #for fun #comic

[maryannemagnolia-blog]

Report of a trip to Japan, September 2016, Buck-Tick related parts

Conversations with Japanese fans, BT cafe, Climax Together 3rd. I know it’s very late. I just want to post something and practice my English. My memories could be wrong.

Osaka, Yousukou Ramen

That small restaurant The Mortal members have been to in 2015. It’s hidden deeply in the streets of Umeda, difficult to find even with the help of Google Map, it was smaller than I thought it to be, there were only about 10 seats, and I wouldn’t say it was very clean inside.

The Ramen was very delicious, I was satisfied with its taste, but one bowl was not enough to fill my stomach at 3pm. Due to nervousness, I didn’t say Acchan-chan’s name.

(On that morning, I had much trouble finding a store called Umeda Loft, then the next day I had much trouble finding the live house Umeda Club Quattro, I guess the Feng Shui of that place does not suit my birth time.)

Tokyo, a hotel

I talked to the staffs of the hotel I lived in. One 20 or 30-something staff knew BT, when another staff who looked around the same age as him asked “What’s that?”, he answered “Old Visual Kei”, then praised my taste in music, “very good, very good. It’s rare (to see girls like me coming to Japan for bands like BT, I guess that’s his meaning)”

Tower Records Kinshicho

The Tower Records famous for a whole shelf of BT stuffs. It’s one the 4th floor (or maybe 3th or 5th I don’t quite remember) of a shopping center which is not faraway from the JR line station. If you want to buy BT’s CDs in Tokyo, I suggest you either go there or Tower Records Shibuya.

At the shrine of Morioka Ken, the boards had not been as full as they were in Cayce’s photos.

Sadly I didn’t have enough money to buy everything, I already bought many records in Osaka and Kyoto, so I only bought Mona Lisa Overdrive, Sabbat, Minus(-)’s D and the only one Togawa Jun album there (in the J-pop section).

Tower Records Cafe in Harajuku

On September 10th, I went to the Tower Records Cafe. I know there would be many people since the next day we shall Climax Together, but I didn’t realize I had to wait for two hours out on the street, but thank for the line of ladies dressed in black I didn’t get lost, okay several gentlemen were there, too, there were 40+ year old ladies in Visual Kei style outfits, 30-something ladies with elegant make up, in normal clothes, there were also JKs younger than me and 30-year-old men who looked just like any Japanese salarymen.

I talked to the nice looking lady behind me. She asked about the official translation of Buck-Tick in Chinese, it’s “花火師”, which means “pyrotechnist, it made her laugh so hard, and no, we rarely use that name.

I introduced her to Tumblr. She laughed again when I searched “Buck-Tick” on Tumblr, photos came out were Acchan, Acchan, and Acchan, “Nothing but Acchan!” Then she introduced Tumblr to her friends on LINE as a place to find many beautiful Acchan pictures.

She started another topic: “Do your parents love Japanese music, too?”

“My mom is Sakamoto Ryuichi-san’s fan.”

“She likes YMO?”

“She hates YMO.”

“Oh, then does she like Buck-Tick?”

“Not really, the only BT songs she likes are Jupiter, Dress and Flame.”

“Anyway,” she said, “I’m glad BT’s songs are liked by Sakamoto-san’s fan.”

It seems Sakamoto Ryuichi and YMO are one rank higher in dignity than all those rock bands.

When I finally got into the Cafe, it’s long past lunch time, I was very hungry. Climax Together 1992 was played on the screen, I felt very difficult to eat my pasta which was not spicy at all despite what was written on their websites while the man I love was singing about despair, pain, madness and desire to die.

Later, friends reported that they waited for 4 whole hours outside the cafe on September 12th, so I’m the lucky one!

Bar Teranga in Ebisu

It’s the bar Imai mentioned in his blog, owned by his wife’s sister Akane, who is also an indie musician. It’s hidden in the streets of Ebisu, on the third floor of a building, with only one tiny signboard outside.

I went there for the evil purpose of examining whether she looked as cute as she was in photos, or it’s photoshop’s doing (I’m not evil enough to think about meeting or stalking BT members, I swear), but I didn’t see her, that night only the male staff Takizawa Ryo was there, he is an indie musician, in 2012, some fans got extremely angry (I’m not sure why) after they found that the BT charity bags were sold at his concerts...but it has already passed, Imai has explained in his blog, Cayce has posted on her blog, so I’ll stop here.

The bar was small, gothic style, there was a wall full of Jrockers’ signatures, including all members of BT, Aki from Sid, Motokatsu, someone from D’erlanger, someone from Merry, Sakurai Ao maybe, and so on, I said “someone” and “maybe” because I couldn’t decipher their signatures which were all so artistically written. Only Shirosaki Jin, the big fanboy and former NO.1 host wrote readable kanjis. I heard there was also one written by Die, of dir en grey, but failed to find it. Aside from signatures, they also used Jrock magazines and BT tour goods as decoration, you can find BT stuffs even in the toilet. The Sakurai Drops box is surprisingly small.

There were three customers when I entered the door, all about 40 years old, two ladies, one gentlemen. I sat down, ordered curry rice and beer in English, the two ladies said “Oh, foreigner?” Then, one of them said:

“But why this bar... Bakuchiku fan?”

“...Yes.” I answered.

They gave me a very warm welcome by screaming and shouting.

“Do you speak Japanese?”

“Only a little.”

“Yokohama Arena?” She tried to speak very slow.

“Yes, but my seat is terrible.”

“Whoo, you come to Japan for a concert!”

“Uh...I came for sightseeing.”

“But your main purpose is the concert, isn’t it?”

And yes.

We talked about BT, Visual Kei and Jpop. “It’s amazing that Japanese music has influence on other countries’ people.” they said. Later, they began talking about baseball, Johnny’s idol groups, and the coming Visual Japan Summit (finally I remember that name).

The curry rice was nice. One of the ladies drank so much High-ball but her face didn’t change a bit, I envy people like her.

I left before all three of them, “Good night! See you tomorrow in Yokohama.” The Japanese fans said.

(Small information:

There is a bar in Minatoku, Tokyo, owned by NAO (BY-SEXUAL) and BT’s former manager Kojima, the name is “Azabu Kyuuban”, or “Azabu NO.9” in English. Many Jrockers had been there, including members of BT, Glay, Plastic Tree, Golden Bomber, Kishidan, Nocturnal Bloodlust and so on. Some BT fans love to go there after the Budoukan show, so if you want to go there that day, too, remember to pre-order.)

Yokohama Arena

There are big “横浜アリーナ” and “Yokohama Arena” words written above an exit of the station, you can follow the ladies in black as well.

I arrived at Yokohama Arena at about 12:30 pm, there was a long, long goods line in the rain, even there were many staffs selling the goods and they were quick, I think I still waited for more than 1.5 hours outside, and when I finally got into the venue, I found there were still many people waiting in front of me. Aku no Hana 2015 remix was played, when Kiss Me Good-bye was over, National Media Boys came, so they must played it for more than once, friends who came later than me reported they heard another album there. I heard almost one Aku no Hana inside the venue, than my turn of buying goods finally came.

It was reported by Japanese fans if you came at 3 pm, you did not need to wait, so I guess at concerts if you don’t want the most popular goods such as Sakurai Drops or Acchan eye masks, it will be better if you don’t come very early.

After buying the goods, same with many fans, I walked to a nearby shopping center, spent two hours there. One oddity was that, when I went to the toilet in the shopping center, everyone waited there was BT fans, I can tell they were fans because all of them wore either BT T-shirts, or typical bangya clothes such as black lace dress and black high heel boots, one of them wore a Mr. Matsumoto guitar print scarf, that famous one with red hearts.

Then back to the venue, people had already lined up for entering. Passersby looked at us curiously.

Since everyone has already watched the WOWOW video, I’d better not say too much about the concert itself, so just a few things:

1. Chandeliers were beautiful.

2. Beside me was a middle aged man, he cried during Jupiter.

3. People clapped their hands during the intro of Dokudanjo, it’s a bit hard to learn.

4. I didn’t realize Imai played Passing Mountain then, feel ashamed.

5. Imai’s guitar was so loud (noisy) that I could barely hear Acchan talking, and it was because Imai’s guitar, not my poor Japanese, Japanese fans have reported same problem.

6. I think you already know that, but the spoken words in Dress are “早く、行かなくちゃ” (I have to go, now).

7. Acchan said: “It must be difficult to see from there, I’m sorry”, then turned the stage light to the stage side and 2nd floor seats, fans who were lit up all waved their hands, screamed in happiness to him. He is a very gentle person indeed.

This year I plan to visit Japan again.

I will go to Fujioka, Gunma to see Imai Shouten. But before that I need to learn more Japanese.

Oh, actually this Gunma-chan (with serious bear) is not the first Gunma-chan.

The original Gunma-chan is this:

#buck-tick #atsushi sakurai #sakurai atsushi #acchan #imai hisashi #hisashi imai #live report #does it count as a live report? #gunma-chan #tower records #ramen #J-rock related bars

[asylum-miniatures]

Entry 8 - Progression and changes

Last time we had just escaped the city for now and were hiding out in one of ninja-sans safehouses until we were all set to go to the next city as part of our ongoing mission to prevent a coup.  We had spent this time buying new equipment, training new skills aka levelling up stuff.

Session 8, part one, the level up

I (Jaune) gained my next level in ninja and had gotten my hands on various supplies such as various alchemical weapons, a few potions, and plenty of new clothes for disguise purposes.  For more magical equipment I finally got my hands on a ring of protection and an amulet of natural armour to bump up my AC, a masterwork kusarigama for twf/reach, a belt of dex and headband of Cha for stats and a sleeve of many garments for more outfit choices.  My most important item was the circlet of persuasion, which combined with my level seven feat of deceptive meant that my face skills went through the roof.

Occelot had gotten his hands on an endless bandoleer and a beneficial bandoleer covering most of his gun needs.  He also got his hands on a revolver and rifle (home ruled advanced firearms with only one range increment touch AC) meaning he could finally fire multiple times a round without reloading and have some ranged options respectively.  Aside from these he got a hand of the mage (in another game this item ended up breaking the game slightly so he really wanted it) a set of boots of leaping a striding (making his jump in the 20’s) and ammunition.  As for his level seven feat he chose far shot, meaning he could shoot at ridiculous ranges with his rife and still get pluses on his rolls.

Draspher had initially really wanted to get craft wondrous items, but upon reflection he found that the list of items he could make was really limited as a sorcerer, so he instead went for lifeless gaze, both for the boosts and in character the horrors he had both seen and been blamed for had taken their toll on him.  He went for a ioun torch, the travellers any-tool, a ring of spell knowledge (to get unseen servant), bracers of Armor +1, a hat of disguise (to hide the mad bombers face), a ring of sustenance, a headband of Cha and a handy haversack.  As for spells, he finally got his hands on some fire spells in fireball and burning hands with summon swarm for more harassing spells.  He also still has most of his cash to the DM’s annoyance.

Yurion retroactively got the noble scion feat giving her Cha to initiative.  She also got a few pieces of equipment, most notably a ring of revelation, giving her, the brain drain ability for interrogation, and the lore keeper ability from oracle level up giving her Cha to knowledge checks.

Sim got a few items.  She followed my lead with a set of boots of the cat, a belt of str and a headband of wis to boost her stats up, a handy haversack for storage and a cloak of elvenkind to help her stealth score.  Most of her focus went to her new feat, brew potions.  She spent most of her free time making cure potions and any other ones we requested (for the cost of making of course).

Part two, the setup

One morning about a week after we had arrived ninja-san approached us at the breakfast table.  He was in the awkward where he had been asked for help but all his own operatives were too busy to do it themselves.  The fact that he was approaching us, as I pointed out, despite our track record was a sign of how desperate he was.  A short trip from the safehouse was a mountain with a nature preserve protected by a few druid sects.  The problem is that the druids had seen the signs of poachers but despite their best efforts they had not been able to locate them, nor how they had been getting in and out.  Ninja-san wanted us to go in and try to sort the problem out.  We would also not be going in alone

A new Player has entered the game!

Draspher IRL had gotten a new girlfriend.  She is a nice girl, a bit anxious but with a perverted sense of humour.  Needless to say, we all immediately took a shine to her.  Our DM had a few sheets prepared (so that we could just pick one and jump straight back in if he did kill us) so she chose one she liked and got stuck in.  Introducing, for your reading pleasure, Vex Shinesword, Half-Orc Paladin/Samurai.  The DM made this character initially as the samurai class, but after deciding that its class features sucked so badly he just made him a paladin with samurai armour, and a katana and wakizashi for twf.  She is also notable for being the only party member aside from Draspher who likes fumbles the raccoon.  IRL I got Draspher a raccoon plush and he has enjoyed taking this with him to the sessions.  This time it spent the entire session alternating between sitting on Draspher head and being cuddled/petted by Vex.  She also has a perverted sense of humour.  Although she is but a Padawan in comparison to my mastery of the perverse side, we played off each other well (to the horror/irritation of the rest of the table).

Part three, steam boat Ocelot

After re-acquainting ourselves with our old guildmate, we get to logistics.  We decide that, as we will be mostly dealing with nature and druids, Sim should be in charge for this mission.  We find that the best way to the mountain is to take the boat upstream directly to a lake at the base of the mountain.  (Truth is I don’t think this lake or river was originally supposed to exist.  When the DM drew the mountain Draspher started pointing out that the way he had drawn it there should be a lake there.  I think the DM just added it then ad-libbed it into the story).  As we are riding along we quickly spot dark shapes in the water.  We ask the captain and it turns out there have been sahaguin (water lizard/frog people) attacks recently, but we should be fine.  Don’t start killing them unless something happens.  Ocelot spends this entire trip staring down the sights of his new rifle.  At one point an eye looks out above the water, so he takes a pot shot.  Unfortunately, one passenger was on the poopdeck, by which I mean two planks of wood off the edge of the boat with a gab in between and a guard rail enabling them to “relive themselves” directly into the water.  This guy was not expecting the gunshot, and falls straight between the gap into the sahaguin infested waters.  Sim and Draspher try throwing a rope to him, but flub there rolls.   Just then a dark shape comes up under the water, grabs him and they both disappear.

Occelot, immediately upon seeing this holsters’ his rifle, pulls out his dagger pistol and uses his insane jump score to dive in after him, downing a potion of water breathing he got off sim.  Vex uses her +1 enchanted +5 compound longbow to fire upon the creatures in the water and hits one.  I decide to run over to the captain to let him know what’s happening, (since, as I jokingly put it, what kind of idiot would jump in the water to fight opponents that have such huge advantages over them in such conditions) and he stops the boat and engages the man overboard protocols.  Yurion decided it’s not worth bothering over and never looks up from her book the entire time and Sim starts planning.

Upon jumping into the water Ocelot is confronted by two regular sahaguin’s, one with an arrow through his shoulder and one diving down lower with the poor guy heading towards the bottom.  The two healthy ones engage Ocelot while the shot one decided to go after the annoying people on the boat, jumping up onto the deck.  Draspher successfully summons a dolphin which charges past the first two sahaguin, going after the one with the one with the captive and successfully knocks him out of his grasp.  Sim seizing her opportunity, jumps off the boat and transforms mid fall into a giant squid, then uses it jet ability to charge 100’ straight at the poor sap, grabbing him in her tentacles before just managing to stop herself hitting the riverbed.  Seeing this, the first two sahaguin break off their planned attack on the one in the water and go after the squid stealing their captive.  Luckily Draspher still has spells and uses one to summon a smaller squid to occupy them.  Ocelot meanwhile has just had a great idea, and positions himself for next turn.

Meanwhile the first sahaguin is eying up the weak and squishy crew when he hears a voice shouting at him “hey you stupid calamari, why don’t you try picking on someone who can fight back”.  Turning to face the ninja running towards him, he fails to notice the large samurai half orc come up behind him before his head is removed from his shoulders in what you could call a single ‘critical’ blow.  As his head hits the floor, the last thing it hears is the ninja saying “well I didn’t necessarily say that meant me”.

Thing do not look good for the captive though.  It was shocking enough when he was dragged under, being punched out of the sahaguin grip by a dolphin didn’t help and then being grabbed and dragged by a giant squid was the last straw before he lost consciousness and began to drown, so the heroes are going to have to act quickly.  Realising Ocelots plan, Sim angles herself before launching full force at him.  Thanks to a slight miscalculation though, rather than passing by him, grabbing him and leaping clear of the water, she instead slams into his stomach before launching him and herself out of the water.  Ocelot, pulling back his composure, lands gracefully on the floor in a daring pose.  Behind him, the unconscious man falls with a thud, followed by a giant squid with a splat.  We all gather round and all utterly fail at CPR.  Taking matters into her own ‘hands’, sim slithers over and uses her tentacles to perform chest palpebrations and brings him round.  Upon one look at his rescuers oversized squid pupil he immediately faints, but he is alive.

The trip back is relatively quiet after that, except for Yurion deciding she wants to dissect the sahaguin for any information she can gather about it (none) and Jaune standing alongside with a bucket, picking out any good-looking parts to cook afterwards.  Ocelot realises his powder and ammo is wet, and so Draspher offers to dry him with magic.  Vex turns to ask her old friend Draspher a question, but sees him rubbing his hands all over Ocelots body, and decides to ask later.  A little while later, Ocelot realises he should check his guns, make sure nothing got water damaged and Draspher offers to magically repair them.  Vex goes looking for Draspher, deciding that he must have had enough time to finish whatever he was doing before.  She now finds Draspher rubbing his hands up and down Ocelots ‘shaft’, and turns away.

Part four, the wooden bar in the wood

We finally make it to a small town at the base of the mountain next to the lake.  We decide the best place to start is the inn.  We go in and find the place mostly empty.  It has an unusual style, the bar is a tree chopped in halve vertically, and the only person in there is a barmaid with a spring of mistletoe in here hair.  I had previously mentioned to sim that we should try to keep on the down low and find out as much as we can about the druids without letting anyone know we were here about the poachers.  Ocelot immediately announces we need to meet the druids since we are here to stop the poachers.  (OOC he apparently is just enjoying being the one to get us in trouble this time round rather that Draspher, I have decided to go for him in his sleep one day).  This actually works out for us, turns out the barmaid is a low-ranking druid in one of the local groups, and she recognises that we must be the guild they requested help from.  She doesn’t know all that much, just what we had heard before, but also that some of the druids were setting up to look after nests near the top of the mountain.  

She can contact one of the other members to escort us up there though, so we wait around for a few hours.  Draspher keeps pestering the barmaid about whether she has any cups or other items to mend (he wants to feel useful, failing to realise that as a druid she can do it herself) until I walk over, take a wooden mug and smash it on the floor, telling him he can repair that.  Ocelot get bored and: Ocelot – I shoot the eagle DM - …….. Ocelot – ok, not really DM – the eagle flies down and lands, shapeshifting into a woman Jaune – oh, hahaha, you nearly shot the druid Turns out that it would have been a terrible idea, since the eagle lands and turns into the druid, also the barmaid’s sister.  With that crisis barely averted, we set off up the mountain.

Part five, mountain scaling encounters

As we begin the trek Ocelot has an idea.  Sim has now gained the ability to turn into large creatures, so she turns into a giant vulture to scout above us.  The DM turns down his plan of ferrying us two by two up the mountain as the transformation wouldn’t last that long and splitting the party like that is a bad idea.  Instead, he uses rope to tie himself to the back of Sim while he carries his revolver so he can shoot freely from his back.  This works for the most part except for one thing.  We are all traveling up a mountain so high that the top is constantly covered in snow and blizzards.  We haven’t gotten that high yet, but the two of them are traveling much, much higher so Ocelot starts getting dex penalty’s for not having warm enough clothes.  Luckily, he had a dex boosting potion that sim gave him, so he chugged that to compensate.

We end up approaching a small cliff in a sparse woodland area, with the only way forward being a small valley that leads to the higher area, only about 20-30’ long.  As we come out of the bottle neck, two arrows smack into me and the druid who were at the front of the party.  Luckily Sim had spotted six figures in the tree above us and made to attack (Ocelot failed his roll, mostly distracted by how cold he was starting to get), three to the right, two to the left and one right at the back.  Combat had begun.

I turned invisible and went to ambush the nearby archers on the right I could see while Vex decided to shoot back after dropping a lay on hands on the wounded druid.  The first archer is very satisfied with his shot, up until a giant vulture and drops on him, tearing out a huge chunk of flesh before getting grazed by the bullets of the top hat wearing guy on his back.  Just as Sims cheetah moves up to join in Yurian drops an obscuring mist on their position helping stop further arrows from coming in.

By this point, the other two on the right gather their wits and start shooting at the massive bird, so Sim starts to take a beating, but she kept on ripping into the guy while Ocelot just keeps firing at them.  Draspher meanwhile has some trouble deciding the right thing to do.  After both my own and the DM’s reassurance that starting a wildfire up here is virtually impossible (IRL I start playing psychotic jiminy cricket to him, telling him “this entire game you have been ridiculed and had the crud kicked out of you, its time you started kicking back”) he strides out of the mist, takes careful aim at the bandit at the back and proceeds to blow him to hell with his newly acquired fireball spell.  He is both horrified at what he is becoming and astounded at how big a blast he pulled off.  I just carry on the jimmy cricket part, “Pinocchio, you want to save your friends and family don’t you?  The only way is to burn the whole world down”.  He survives but the tree he was in sure didn’t, and getting blown away by a fireball into a 10’ drop certainly makes an impression.   As the second bandit on the right turns to see this massive explosion, he gets one of his own in the form of a flask of alchemist fire to the face, curtesy of the already disappearing ninja.

Vex also decides now is the time for action.  She charges at one of the trees to the left and in a single, you could say critical, blow she rends the tree and the bandit has to leap to safety from his now falling cover before facing the samurai.  It’s at this point the DM realises what he’s done.  When the DM made this samurai, he wanted to give him some damage output in combat, so he decided to, against my own advice when we were talking about it, give her a +1 keen katana and a +1 wakizashi for duel wielding.  He failed to realise the effect giving someone a 15-20 critical range, especially a strength based fighter, would have on combat prowess and damage output.  This is made even clearer when her next blow on the bandit is a non-confirmed critical.  Every attack roll she has made so far with this sword has been a crit, and it doesn’t look like it will be ending any time soon.

Part six, you have got to be kidding me

The DM starts asking for perception rolls.  Sim and I are the only ones who get high enough, and so he passes us both a note with only one sentence written on it.  “You hear a loud rumbling in the distance”.  Turns out that he had rolled survival rolls for both Sim and Ocelot but both had failed to realise any loud noise could set off an avalanche, and the combination of gunshots and fireball explosions had been enough to do it.  Sure enough, over the last few turns, a few of the bandits start breaking off and just legging it along the mountainside.  I shout out “run for it avalanche”, and make to follow them.  Only a wisdom roll tells me that I won’t make it, and the bandits won’t either.  Our best bet is to get to the bottom of the cliff, let the initial part of the avalanche flow over the top of us thanks to the lip, then try and dig our way out afterwards.

I shout this to the others.  Yurian takes the druid down the valley and starts planning.  Myself, Draspher and Vex quickly follow.  Ocelot cut himself loose of the ropes, and leaps for the very damaged bandit we had been attacking previously.  He tells him that if he comes with them he will live, hoping to use him for interrogation purposes.  He and his new friend also follow us down the valley to the cliff.  Ocelot, Draspher and myself all pull out equipment and latch ourselves to the cliff.  Yurian pulls off her own plan, to levitate the druid, sit on top of her then use the extra Hight to get grabbed by Sim and flown over the avalanche.

Days on mountain – 5 Disasters blamed on Draspher – 1, DM gave some lip service about how it was Ocelots rapid gunfire that did it, but we all know who still has blame on his plate Incidents caused by Ocelot – 3.25, he got a guy dragged overboard, he blurted out our plans immediately to the first person he met (.75, malicious intent but it worked out), nearly shot down our guide (.5, malicious intent but didn’t go through with it) and helped start the avalanche

#ain't our fault #main story