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plothooksinc · 5 months

Note

If you’re still taking prompts for the No Rest For The Weary adjacent fic, can we see the guys’ first trip back to Hueso’s pizzaria? With or without April and Mayhem tagging along?

Also, I just found the series and binged it in like 2 days

I'm glad you enjoyed it, anon! Because I can't shut up, you get the weeks preceding it too-- (Note: if the formatting is wonky I apologise but my first attempt to post it took every single space out, hngngngn) Niño idiota: >> aww dont sweat it bm ill be back to dazzle your customers soon!!

The message came in at lunchtime, and he didn’t see it until the rush had been and gone. Hueso scowled down at it as if Leonardo had personally insulted him and tossed it into the corner of the kitchen. Their first day re-opened was chaotic, with many customers seeking a sense of normalcy or not having access to their usual haunts—he’d like to say he was thinking of them by reopening so quickly, but in all honesty, Hueso was a businessman (and previously a pirate to boot) and knew the best way to recoup his loss from the enforced closure was to take advantage of the mess. That it was also an excellent way to take stock of who had come through the invasion unscathed had nothing to do with it, of course.

He didn’t get back to his phone until late in the evening, having fielded a number of annoying encounters along with customers over-ordering pizza like the invasion was just taking a brief intermission—and dealing with Hop, who timidly called him to make sure the ‘crazy lady with the knife’ was nowhere in evidence before he dared to front for his shift—and by then he was exhausted. But Leonardo had messaged him again—with a nonsense string of kissy faces and hearts followed by a row of question marks, and he sighed. A five year old’s need for validation, honestly.

Hueso: >> 💀💀💀✨✨

The boy seemed like his normal self. He told himself it was less of a relief and more of an annoying reminder that his break from seeing one of his most destructive customers-slash-temporary-waiters was destined to be a short one. He should take advantage of it while he could.

He didn’t hear from Leonardo again.

Days later, he attempted a call and found the phone was out of service.

He was not worried. One of the boys would surely come by for pizza now that he was open and he could make polite inquiries. Asking after a customer’s health was permissible.

(Michelangelo had said he was recovering. The phone was purely a coincidence. Leonardo had merely forgotten to pay his bill like the irresponsible boy he was, or he had been using it before being cleared by doctor’s orders and the phone had been confiscated with great prejudice by his brothers. That was all.)

---------

He did not see a single turtle in his restaurant.

He did, however, hear from someone else; a phone call that took him by surprise, coming in on the main delivery line and asking to speak to the manager. He came to the phone already annoyed, anticipating some complaint of my pizza is cold, or your special mystic sauce is flirting with my roommate! (It wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes his ingredients were very fresh.)

“This is Senor Hueso and I am busy,” he said curtly. “Your complaint had best be of a suitably drastic nature.”

There was silence for a moment, and then a woman’s rueful voice. “Ah. Welp. You weren’t a hallucination after all, huh?”

It took him a moment to place her, and then Hueso blinked and retreated into his office, closing the door behind him. “Mrs O’Neil?”

“Just Carol’s fine,” she said. “You, uh… I’m just trying to ground myself? A little? Things have been weird.”

“And so you decided to call the skeletal owner of a mystic pizzeria to feel normal again,” he said drily. “I see. It makes perfect sense.”

“You’d be surprised. Listen, I have two reasons to call—I know you’re busy so I won’t keep you tied up.”

He found he didn’t mind, actually. It was rare that a human willingly associated with the yokai, though it spoke volumes that the two humans he’d found that would do so were related to each other. “Go ahead.”

“First was just to, uh, touch base? And make sure you got my message, and—I meant it. You helped out a lot.”

“You are welcome, Senora.” He nearly added any time, but frowned and thought better of it. Hueso did not wish to encourage anyone to rely on him. That was foolish. “And the second?”

There was a brief pause. When she spoke again, she sounded almost sheepish. “...yeah. Uh… it’s another stupid question, probably.”

“Of course.” He braced himself for another inane question about skeletons.

“Yeah. Does your, uh… pizzeria… even though we’re human, um—”

He blinked.

And then, almost against his will, he smiled.

“Senora, that is a stupid question. Kindly remember all the times my employees have delivered to your daughter.”

“Oh, thank god. Or...whatever you guys believe in—”

“Quit while you are ahead, perhaps.” But now he was outright amused, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, noted. Okay. So some more spicy chicken…? Two, I think. We’re at a hotel right now, will that be a problem?”

“Not at all. I will pass the order on to the staff.” He hesitated. “At a hotel? Your apartment is a lost cause?”

“For now. April’s, uh, friends? Are paying for us to stay here, and I guess they’ll give us the all clear. Hopefully soon.”

Ah. Sometimes it did, in fact, pay to ask sociable questions. He leaned forward, voice rising eagerly. “You have met her friends? The—” Turtle boys. He stopped himself from saying it, because in all likelihood she had not met them and, annoying though they may be, that was a secret he would keep.

“No.” She paused, and then added shrewdly, “But April is staying with them, and I’m sure she’d have said something if they weren’t doing okay.”

He wasn’t sure April would have said anything at all, actually, given how tight-lipped she’d been on the topic of both mutants and yokai. But knowing that she was staying with the boys did give him some level of reassurance that they hadn’t just vanished from the face of the earth.

“Gracias,” he said anyway, and reached for his notepad. “I had lost contact with them, so was… curious. Tell me your hotel and room number and I will get your order ready.”

---------

His delivery girl came back with a hotel business card in one hand, Carol’s mobile number scrawled on the back, and a brief message:

Just in case. I’ll ask April about them in the meantime xx Carol

Well. That certainly was an offer. A perceptive woman, indeed.

He tucked the card into his business card book, face down so the message was hidden.

---------

Perhaps Leonardo was avoiding him.

The idea filled him with annoyance. He also knew it was extremely unlikely, but he far preferred this irritating potential reason over anything more serious. Hueso let himself believe this for a day and a half before he had to acknowledge that, foolish though the boy might be, he would not avoid the pizzeria just because Hueso had made a comment about an extra shift to pay for damages. He would own up to it, if only to make childish comments about how much Hueso could rely on him and filch extra slices of garlic bread when he thought nobody was looking. And potentially cause even more damage, because that seemed to be par for the course these days.

The thought made him smile faintly-- until he realised he was very close to daydreaming about Leonardo accidentally trashing his pizzeria, and he nearly snapped poor Hop’s head off when he fumbled a serving a few moments later. What a ridiculous thought. (And he was annoyed at himself, not the staff, so he made sure to let Hop leave a few minutes early as an apology.)

Perhaps Leonardo had attempted to open a portal while concussed and had accidentally stranded himself in some remote farmstead. That seemed as likely as avoiding him. Or he had been portal jacked by pirates, and any moment now Piel would open the door to his restaurant and drag the turtle in like some waterlogged kitten, draped in seaweed and clinging to his ridiculous sword and wearing both those ridiculous eyepatches again, good grief what had the boy even been thinking (clearly he hadn’t been) and Leonardo would beam at him and launch into a tale of all the mermaids he’d met and flirted with until Piel dropped him mid-spiel and stormed out again.

Perhaps he had quite deliberately portalled his family to Tahiti this time to recover in luxury.

...doubtful.

Perhaps…

Perhaps he was thinking about this too much.

Hueso put it aside and went to serve the family of googlyschmootzes that had just arrived and didn’t think about it again.

For a good twenty minutes.

---------

He broke.

Hueso: >>Buenas noches, Carol. Could I ask if you have any word? >>This is Senor Hueso.

Senora O’Neil: >>Evening! I will see what I can do. I’m sure they’re fine.

--------

They were not fine.

Carol did not text him. But the following evening, his waitress Gloriana knocked on his office door to tell him that one of the turtle boys had arrived and was asking for him, and he barely let her finish before Hueso was moving past her and through the kitchen at a speed a little too risky for an area full of sharp implements.

April was at his front counter, peering listlessly at one of the menus, and he took a moment to observe just how tired she looked before he took in the hunched bulk that was Raphael slouching next to her, and he froze. He already knew April had been injured—had seen her arrive with her face a mess, knew about the attack—but it was the sight of the large snapper that made him feel the first unfamiliar touch of… anger.

Fear.

Raphael’s arms were thoroughly bandaged, swathed above his plastron and neck, and his eye was covered in a patch that made him think nonsensically for a moment, ah, so it was pirates after all. But it was the large chunk missing from the curve of his shell that horrified him, the sight of a near miss that was far above and beyond their usual shenanigans.

They are children, he thought. This is too much for children.

If Raphael was the only one to visit him, how badly off were the others?

He did not ask. Instead, Hueso regarded them with a face he hoped was impassive, and tugged the brim of his hat down slightly.

“I see life has not been kind to you lately,” he said. “I hope you do not think this entitles you to a discount.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” April said politely, but the knowing smirk that curved onto her exhausted face warned him ahead of time. “Especially as we’re not here for pizza.”

...ah. Carol had ratted him out. Very rude, considering he had not once mentioned he was concerned. He flicked his gaze to Raph, who gave him a wan smile of his own, blinking slowly with his one good eye as if he were considering going to sleep right there at the counter.

Hueso sighed. It wasn’t the end of the world.

“I suppose you had better come through to my office.”

---------

April’s nose was newly bandaged and her bruises were that particular array of colours that always arrived in the process of healing. That was something, at least, though Hueso couldn’t help but note the smaller bandage patch behind one ear. She had been hurt more since he last saw her. Perhaps they all had. It made him fret over Leonardo’s last message and out of service phone all over again.

“My doctor insisted on checking it out, but it’s all healing well,” she said, taking the mug of coffee from him. She was sitting on one edge of the worn couch he kept in his office, slouching against its side with a carelessness that made him wonder how long it had been since she’d slept well. Raphael was taking up the rest of it, sitting there with his hands clasped on his knees and clearly trying not to fidget.

“I did not ask,” Hueso said levelly, and held out another mug to the turtle. He didn’t seem to notice.

“No, but I ain’t blind,” April retorted. “Mikey’s right, you are a big softie.”

He sighed. “A terrible slur upon my reputation.”

“Sure it is.” She grinned over the rim of her mug, and elbowed Raph in the side, who started and then finally noticed Hueso’s outstretched hand. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us. Right, Raph?”

“Right,” Raph said automatically, taking the mug. Then he blinked. “Wait, what?”

Dios mio. Hueso raised an eyebrow. “Raphael. How long has it been since you slept?”

“Uhhh…”

The fact that he trailed off and frowned spoke volumes, and Hueso sighed again. Well, he hadn’t been fooling them anyway. Or, at the very least, he hadn’t fooled April. He turned on his heel and went to the cupboard. “I assume your mother asked you to stop by.”

“You assume right,” she said, relaxing back with her coffee. “Guess I’m doing a proof of life tour today. I checked in with her, she asked me to follow up.”

“I see. I feel you should have left this one home to sleep.”

Raph frowned at that. “Yeah, well, this one thought April could do with company. It’s been a, uh, week.”

That gave him pause. “Does this ‘a, uh, week’ begin before or after the zombie attack at the O’Neil apartment?”

“Man, don’t ask him to count days at this point,” April said wryly as Raph took on a more confused expression. “Just assume things have been chaotic as hell since the day the sky opened up and rained bubblegum on us.”

“Such a misleading way to describe an alien invasion.” Hueso snorted, hiding his worry. Not that it seemed to matter with this company. “That almost sounds cute.”

“Never had bubblegum in your hair, huh.”

Hueso served her with A Look. “In my clearly bountiful hair? No.”

Then he threw a blanket from the cupboard across, hitting Raph in the face, and pointed. “You, nap. You.” To April. “Tell me what has happened, and why Leonardo’s phone is out of service.”

Raph blinked as the blanket slid off his face and landed in his lap. “Wait, it is?” And he started to fumble for his phone, until April put a hand gingerly on his shoulder. “April?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s okay,” she said, eyes wide. “We didn’t know it was out of service, but it makes sense. I remember the last place he had it. I think Leo needs a new phone.”

That was at least vaguely reassuring that Leonardo was alive and in need of technology somewhere, but April’s dancing around the point only served to irritate him. “You are both very tired, it seems, if you did not realise before now.”

“Yeah well, you try dealing with two invasions in the space of a week,” April shot back. “Leo’s phone getting eaten is kind of less important than, you know, Leo himself. And Mikey. And everyone losing their freaking homes and—”

And Raphael put out one of his giant hands to settle her back on the couch before she could get to her feet, grimacing faintly at Hueso, and he put up his skeletal hands in a gesture of apology.

“I did not mean to imply any stupidity,” he said faintly, reeling a little at the sheer amount he needed to unpack in that small rant. “I am merely… concerned at how exhausted you are.” There, now he was being honest. What was the world coming to? He didn’t know where to start, so he started with the most bizarre. “His phone was eaten?”

“It wasn’t me,” Raphael muttered, and April broke into a laugh before she could help herself, slapping a hand over her mouth.

Hueso texted a message out to his kitchen staff and took a seat, feeling far more brittle than he had a few minutes ago. Teenagers. Very tired teenagers. The laugh had sounded less amused and more borderline hysterical, so when he spoke again, he was as gentle as he could be.

“Perhaps you ought to start from the beginning.”

---------

Gloriana knocked on the door ten minutes later with a platter of cheesy bread sticks and spicy meatballs. By then, April had finished telling him about the attack on the lair, Agent Bishop’s involvement and mistakes, and Leonardo and Michelangelo’s rescue. The mention of Bishop would have set his hair on end if he had any; he was familiar with the man, given his restaurant straddled the line between the Hidden City and New York, and there had been harassment before certain rules were put in place and Bishop promptly lost interest.

Raphael had fallen asleep during April’s spiel, and she had tucked the blanket over him without so much as a pause and carried right on, and the practised move was doing something unfortunate to Hueso’s emotions. Or perhaps that was just the realisation of just how terribly things had gone after Leonardo’s last message to him; how close the family had come to tragedy.

They were children.

(Also, Leonardo’s phone being eaten by a possessed train was nowhere on his spiralling bingo card--)

He took the platter with a nod of thanks and closed the door, sliding it onto the coffee table in front of them. April needed no encouraging and snagged two breadsticks with the flash of a grateful smile. He sat and politely let her wolf them down before he spoke again.

“They are all right now?”

“Mikey just overextended himself and is sleeping it off,” she said, and he wondered how much of an understatement that was. He did not pry. “Leo’s… not doing great, given the timing, but he’ll be okay with time. Might be a while before he’s back to pester you, though. Or take any shifts.”

“I will somehow manage without this added disruption in my life,” he said with a straight face. He was partly relieved; mostly, however, he was quietly calculating just how hurt the boy must be to be gone for a while. To be taken straight from a hospital bed before he had a chance to recover-- “And you say both of these aliens are now dead, yes?”

“With extreme prejudice,” April said with satisfaction.

“I am sure my customers will be relieved to hear the danger has fully passed, then.” He sipped his tea.

“Oh yeah, sure.” She grinned at him, snagging another bread stick. “And I’ll let Leo know you were worried about him.”

He frowned at her over his cup. “You will not. He is insufferable enough as it is and I will confess to nothing.”

“Hmm, I dunno…”

“I can still charge you for those bread sticks you are eating.”

“Man, you think my silence can be bought?” She waved at him with the bread stick in question before biting it in half, and he sighed.

“I was under the impression humans were easily corruptible, yes.”

“Oh, we totally are.”

The O’Neil women were definitely going to be headaches in his life, weren’t they. Hueso found he wasn’t particularly annoyed by that fact, but he made sure to sigh again. It gave him an opening in any case. “Would you like to take some food home with you? The family must surely be quite exhausted, if they are all dead on their feet like the two of you.”

“That would be amazing and my lips are sealed,” April said sunnily. “Only can we get stuff that isn’t pizza? We kind of, uh, wanna hold off on that for a bit. Long story.”

Odd. But he didn’t care enough to question it. She had overloaded him with enough stressful exposition already. “I will put together some other options. It...may take a while, if you care to rest until it is—”

A green hand landed flat on top of the meatball pile, and they both jumped. And watched as Raphael grabbed a full handful of meat and shoved it into his mouth, chewing slowly before letting out a snore and sinking back into sleep again.

Well, then. He was beginning to understand why Raph had defended himself about eating phones.

“Does he do this often?”

April cackled.

---------

Mayhem was in his kitchen.

Having a staring contest with Hop.

Hueso counted to ten. And then tapped the rabbit yokai politely on the shoulder, pretending he didn’t see the boy jump more than strictly necessary. “You have work to do. I will deal with the interloper.”

Hop nodded vigorously and then took off the front counter, stumbling over his own big feet on the way out the door. Hueso sighed. And took his place, staring down the tiny yokai with the most unimpressed look he could manage.

Mayhem stared mildly back.

“I am going to put together some pasta and burritos for the Hamatos,” Hueso said finally. “When I am done, kindly make sure it gets back to wherever they are staying and deposit the two in my office directly into their beds. Then I will consider us even.”

Mayhem tilted his head as if he couldn’t possibly know what Hueso was talking about; as if the little sneak hadn’t dumped humans in his lap not one week before. His tail dipped off the ledge he was sitting to wave dangerously close to a pot full of bubbling mince.

Hueso pointed a finger bone at him. “Do not threaten me, pequeña mierda. I know where you came from.”

Mayhem stuck his nose in the air and turned away. But his tail curled around him obediently and his ears twitched back.

Just so long as they were agreed.

---------

April was snoring on top of Raphael when he returned. He took a picture, careful to cut Raphael out of the shot, and sent it to Carol.

Hueso: >> You told her I was concerned. A lie and a terrible betrayal.

Carol’s response took a while in coming. He wondered if she was laughing at him.

Mrs O’Neil: >> Which is it? 👀 A lie or a betrayal it can’t logically be both

Hueso: >> We will have words about this later. For now, I am sending your daughter home to bed.

Mrs O’Neil: >> Gracias, Senor.

---------

Knowing the family were okay did set his mind at ease somewhat. His restaurant seemed much quieter without the turtles coming through, but it wasn’t as if Run of the Mill was a picture of serenity without them. Not with his customer list including mob bosses and smugglers and the occasional pirate, but largely his customers knew very well to treat his restaurant with respect and cause no issues (providing, of course, he did not double-book certain parties ever again.)

Life settled into some semblance of normal over the next week as the invasion became more distant; for the majority of the yokai it had been merely a source of hushed gossip, trapped as they were quite safely in the Hidden City’s lockdown. (Hueso was under no illusions. If the invasion had not been halted on the surface, the Krang would have found them all eventually. He kept that to himself.)

Carol messaged him some days later, minutes after closing, and he glanced down at the message and couldn’t help his faint huff of amusement:

Carol: >> YOU DIDN’T SAY HER FRIENDS WERE GREEN >> also thank you for the complimentary cheesecake how did you know

Hueso: >> I didn’t say they were human, either. >> I have my ways. You can work them out yourself I’m sure.

Carol: >> A lie and a terrible betrayal!!! >> You saw the delivery address. More stupid questions?

Hueso: >> I do not think that is the clever retort you think it is. I neither lied nor betrayed. I am an honest man* >> * Terms and conditions apply >> Also yes, but you are welcome. Your home is intact?

Carol: >> For the most part. Some minor repairs needed. >> The boys are fine. I only met one, but he’s charming in an awkward sort of way. They’re coming for dinner next week!

Ah. Hueso closed the door to his office, leaning against it, and felt… lighter. That was promising. In more ways than one. If the boys were going to a family dinner, they were okay. And Carol had met a turtle and invited him to dinner. Truly, a unique human being. He suspected he was going to enjoy their conversations.

(He wondered if she threatened the turtle with a knife first.)

Hueso: >> All of them?

Carol: >> As far as I know. Does that help? Would you like me to pass on a message?

“Like you did last time?” he muttered. But he appreciated the offer even so.

Hueso: >> That is quite all right. If they are well enough for dinner, I’m sure I will be seeing them myself sometime soon. Gracias.

He saw the dots come up and vanish again, then reappear, and he waited patiently.

Carol: >> You’re welcome 🥰

He wondered what she had been typing. But his curiosity was only mild, and it had been a long day; Hueso collected his briefcase, checked in with the closing staff, and made his way home in a surprisingly good mood.

---------

The following weekend, he woke to find she had sent him a picture. He opened it over breakfast and promptly spat milk across the table.

It was a picture of April, holding up her phone with a wide grin, her camera panned back to catch Donatello perched on the back of a couch like a menacing and mildly deranged vulture. Those strange machine hands of his were extended down with markers in their pincers, scrawling on the side of a sleeping Leonardo’s face. Michelangelo was leaning over one side of the couch with a marker in his hands but it looked like he was laughing too much to contribute, and he could just see Raphael—a much less exhausted and less bandaged Raphael, for which he was quietly relieved—looking at the camera with a grin and gesturing at his brothers, his mouth smeared with… chocolate? That was probably chocolate--

Carol: >> Proof of life 🎊🎊

Hueso: >> A terrible invasion of their privacy.

Carol: >> I’m innocent! My daughter is the fiend here. You don’t hae to worry, I didn’t say a word >> *have

If Leonardo was sleeping at this dinner, he was still healing—but clearly in safe territory, if his brothers were… well. Being brothers. He’d certainly woken up several times as a child to find his bones decorated in all kinds of rude messages. Hueso grimaced at the memory and took a closer look.

The boy had lost weight. Not enough to be frightening; enough that Hueso contemplated whether he could get away with inflicting more food on them without the repercussions of Leonardo’s smarmy grin and assumptions. Probably not. Besides, he had faith that Carol would have fed them well and Michelangelo was an excellent chef in his own right. He was not needed here.

Hueso: >> Gracias. >> Is it all right if I print this?

Carol: >> You may do with it what you like. April knew what she was doing.

Like mother, like daughter. The girl was a menace. But in this case… he smiled and tucked back into his breakfast, wiping up the spilled milk with a napkin. April was all right. He would have to let her know that her family was welcome at his pizzeria, provided they were not easily shocked by some of his clientele.

---------

Carol🗡️: >> Maybe a quieter night. Do you have quiet nights?

Hueso: >> First Wednesday of the month is Human Night Out. It only attracts the younger yokai.

Carol🗡️: >> Sounds ominous. Human Night Out?

Hueso: >> Wherein we hide all traces of the Hidden City and pretend we are a human pizzeria. There are costumes.

Carol🗡️: >> ...that’s actually something yokai are interested in?

Hueso: >> You don’t have theme nights in your own restaurants? The younger yokai are fascinated by humans. The older… not so much. It is quieter. There are ‘exotic’ dishes which I think you would find fairly mundane. The yokai would think you were just in disguise.

Carol🗡️: >> Okay that’s amazing. Don’t you lose money though?

Hueso: >> Not when people pay a premium for the exotic dishes.

Carol🗡️: >> I detect a con.

Hueso: >> I’m sure I have no idea what you mean. Booking for 7pm?

Carol🗡️: >> We’ll be there. I’ll review your exotic dishes.

Hueso: >> I’ll give you a discount for your first time if you review them positively.

Carol🗡️: >> We’ll see 😁

---------

[unknown number] >> I know I know youve been so worried about me I amhere

Hueso: >> New phone, who is this

Niño idiota: >> Ohohoho OUCH we gotta work on ur meme skills u did it wrong

Hueso: >> I’m sure I don’t care.

Niño idiota: >> well when u decide u do care as u inevinnev something something do its ‘new phone who dis’

Hueso: >> ‘inevitably’.

Niño idiota: >> that’s what i said >> anyway sorry i was out of touch i lost my phone?? prolly left it somwhere u know how it is >> I owe u a shift just lmk when

Hueso is typing… Hueso is typing…

Niño idiota: >> did I break u with like responsibillity want me to be an idiota just to balance things??

Hueso: >> I will not need anyone for a few weeks. But do not think you are off the hook. I am sure I can find something tedious for you to do. >> You are already an idiot no need to rub it in.

Niño idiota: >> u love me and u know it

Hueso: >> Debatable.

Niño idiota: >> Debatable!!! thats not a no u no

Hueso: >> Get some sleep and learn to spell. I am busy.

Niño idiota: >> ✨🎊👏👏😘😊😏 >> in that order or

> Read 3.48pm

Niño idiota: >> you leave idiota on read??? rude tbh jail bla bla bla >> 🥺🥺🥺 >> 😎see u soon✨

---------

“—get it, but I wish you’d told me before this!” The voice was whining and petulant and very, very familiar. He felt a Pavlovian sense of annoyance rise up almost as fast as the sheer relief, and Hueso opened the kitchen door a crack to peer out.

Sure enough, there they were. Finally. Leonardo was leaning against the closest booth to the alleyway portal, but he was on his feet and that was good enough. Michelangelo was latched onto one arm and Hueso couldn’t tell if it was clingy affection or for extra stability. Perhaps both. Leonardo’s pout was ridiculously overdramatic, which told Hueso the boy was perfectly fine with whatever he hadn’t been told, and if he had eyes, he would roll them. Teenagers.

“Sorry, Leo, we kinda forgot.” Raphael rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. The eye patch was gone with no sign of wounds beneath. “It was a spur of the moment thing, but the kid’s never had pizza, so—”

“Nah, I get it,” Leo said, waving his free hand. “But I’m totally complaining about this injustice for the rest of the night, just so you know.”

“Oh nooo, a surprise no one could have foreseen, however will we manage your-- oh wait, I have headphones.” Donatello, moving around them with a look of complete disinterest and his phone in his hand.

There. All four of them.

Hueso breathed. Hop had already picked up his notebook and was rounding the counter; he managed to catch him by the shoulder before Hop could get further (another jump, were all rabbit yokai so anxious or just this one?) and took the notebook from him, gesturing with his bony chin toward the kitchen. The message was clear: trade places.

Then he waited until all four were seated—pretended he wasn’t paying attention to the way Michelangelo helped Leonardo into the booth—and sauntered over, the picture of nonchalance, grateful that his voice was dry as the desert when he spoke. “Ah, my most destructive customers. I thought it had been quiet around here.”

Donatello didn’t even look up from his phone, which was the very picture of normal for him. But the other three did, with Raphael and Michelangelo throwing him cheerful smiles. Leonardo lit right up with a flash of teeth in a smug grin that said he was about to say something incredibly obnoxious. Good. Business as usual. Even if he wasn’t currently flailing at Hueso with his usual dramatics, which he suspected meant the boy was still sore, at the very least.

“Bone man!” Leonardo beamed, then sprawled in the booth with a barely-there wince, propped up by his little brother. “Toldja it’d be soon. Miss me?”

“Yes,” he said flatly. “But my aim is getting better.”

Donatello snorted at his screen, and Leonardo made a face. “Seriously? That’s like… so old, you need to hang around someone younger with better jokes—”

“Someone like you, perhaps?” Hueso pinned him with a look, tapping his notebook. “You seem to have forgotten where I heard that from in the first place.”

“Memory issues,” Michelangelo said solemnly, pushing Leonardo delicately upright again. “Concussions will do that to ya.”

Hueso raised the notebook to hide his smile as Leonardo shot him a betrayed look. “You told him?”

“I’m sorry, was that meant to be a secret?” Donatello glanced up finally. “We’ve been incommunicado for weeks after an invasion and he called you while you were sleeping it off. What do you think we told him?”

“I told him, technically,” Michelangelo said cheerfully, “But it’s okay, Leo! I didn’t tell him anything else! Pinky promise.”

Raphael raised a hand sheepishly. “Yeah, uh, but April and Raph might’ve...”

Leonardo’s expression flickered from surprised to guilty to mildly distressed before it settled on the sulkiest frown he’d seen on the boy yet. “Well, that’s not fair. I was gonna like… derail him with tales of our epic adventures and everything, and you beat me to it.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘regale’, Nardo.”

“Derailing may still happen,” Hueso said dryly, tapping his finger bones on the edge of the table to get their attention back. “If you intend to continue this fascinating conversation rather than order your food?”

“Hah,” Leonardo muttered. “That’s totally what I meant—”

“Hush up,” Michelangelo said, leaning past him. “I’m hungry. Can I get the mystic lasagna?”

He took their orders after that, watching them carefully as they talked. Raphael’s eye was a little red, but was tracking correctly and obviously focused. A good sign, he hoped. Donatello seemed utterly like his normal self, and Michelangelo was wearing what seemed to be compression gloves. Leonardo… was still thin, and looked very tired, but Hueso had seen him far more exhausted. There were splashes of vivid colour creeping over the top of his shell which he couldn’t help but stare at, trying to work out what they were.

Leonardo tilted his head at the curiosity, and then smiled more genuinely, twisting slightly so that Hueso could get a better look. “Like it? My little brother is awesome, as usual.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Michelangelo huffed, but he was grinning as Hueso stared at the beautifully painted marigolds, petunias, and tulips winding their way across Leonardo’s shell.

The boy was an impressive artist; not just for the careful love and detail on such an unusual surface, but the way he’d crafted his art to disguise injury. Because Hueso had to pay very close attention to see the repair job to the shell beneath.

The damage had been… extensive. He’d thought Raphael’s shell had been bad; no wonder he had been incommunicado for so long.

Leonardo’s smile shifted strangely on his face, and he sounded almost uncertain. “What do you think?”

Ah. It was hard to translate what Leonardo really wanted to hear. But given the way Michelangelo had gone so far to hide this injury… he leaned back again, humming thoughtfully. “I think the next time I would like new art for the restaurant, I should see if your brother is free. It may perhaps be a less destructive option than waiting tables.”

Leonardo grinned in pride as Michelangelo brightened next to him. “Really? I would love to do some art for you, Senor Hueso! I could bring my portfolio next time!”

“You have a portfolio?” Raphael looked confused. “Wait, what’s a portfolio?”

“It’s a port just for me, duh,” Leo drawled, and then reeled back as Donatello threw a wad of napkins into his face. “Hphh!”

“That was terrible and you know it.”

“It was pretty great, actually.” Leonardo spat a piece of napkin at him and smiled lazily. “You’re just jealous I thought of it first.”

Donatello resolutely ignored him and turned to Raphael. “It’s a collection of sample works that illustrate an artist’s skill and range.”

...had they forgotten he was here? Typical. He coughed loudly, and watched them all swivel back to him attentively. “Yes, bring your portfolio. I suppose I am interested. The flowers look very lovely.” He paused, but in the end he couldn’t resist. “Though it does make you look like you’re about to be thrown at a wedding.”

“Sounds like a fun sport,” Donatello drawled. “Let’s get Kendra married off so we can bowl Leo at her bridal party. If she has enough friends for that.”

“Can—can we wait until he can survive that first, Raph would like not to panic all over again—”

“Why should Leo get all the fun? I’m the small one, let me be the bouquet!” Michelangelo had literal stars in his eyes. “I’d love to be a bunch of flowers.”

“Yeah, but you can hardly paint your own back, Miguel.”

“Challenge accepted. This bitch yeet!”

“Okay, one: language, and two: even Raph knows that’s not how it goes—”

“What’s wrong with yeet?”

“Leonardo--”

Maybe he shouldn’t have made the joke. Hueso sighed heavily, and this time it didn’t stop them from continuing on with... apparently inventing a brand new hobby. Teenagers. But lively ones, and he would rather they were here giving him a headache than go through the weeks of quiet that had preceded this one.

“I’ll take your orders to the kitchen,” he said, and turned on his heel.

“Hey, wait—”

There was a tug on his sleeve, and he turned in surprise to find Leonardo half out of the booth and trying to keep his balance; Michelangelo had an arm wrapped around him to stop him falling, but was still arguing with the others. Apparently he’d lunged to get Hueso’s attention without thinking it through. Good grief. He stepped forward and put his bony hand under Leonardo’s elbow, gently pushing him back into his seat.

“Do not do that again,” he said quietly, and Leonardo made a sheepish face.

“Sorry. I just wanted to, uh…”

He trailed off. Hueso raised an eyebrow and waited patiently until he glanced away.

“Did we worry you?”

What an odd question. Or rather, what an odd delivery. He would have expected Leonardo to be smug, taking it as proof of their friendship, but Leonardo seemed more anxious about the prospect. And Hueso thought back to their text conversation. To the boy’s completely nonchalant dismissal of his silence and missing phone.

“Only a little,” he said, voice mild. “In truth, I was more impressed by the tale. One could say that you and your brothers acted like…”

And Hueso smiled. Pointedly.

“...champions.”

Leonardo mouthed the word back in confusion, before realisation lit his face. Hueso took advantage of the pause to move away, heading for the kitchen with his notebook, listening briefly to the conversation behind him--

“Raph! Raph! Hey, gimme a lift, I need to go check the Wall of Champions—”

Hueso vanished into the kitchen and passed off their order to his kitchen hands. He only had two photos of the boys, after all. One was still quite firmly pinned to the Maze of Death cheaters wall. The other--

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?”

His staff shrank back; both at the yell and at Hueso’s wide grin, which admittedly looked downright unnerving on a living skeleton, he could admit--

“Omigosh we’re champions!”

“With this photo!? YOU’RE DRAWING ON MY FACE!”

“Well, someone had to. I, at least, look suitably championlike—”

“You look like a deranged gremlin is what you look like. Couldn’t he, like, edit out the chocolate first?”

“I mean, it could be worse, Leo! We could have been drawing something that wasn’t PG-13.”

“Where’s April? I’m gonna kill her.” Leonardo was wailing. “She sent this to Hueso!?”

Hueso swept through the kitchen and into his office, shutting the door behind him so that nobody could hear him laugh.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #oh only 14 pages an improvement--/shot #nekotsuki #no rest for the weary #(adjacent)#furthering my carol and hueso friendship agenda don't mind me #also I wanna hang that photograph on MY wall lmao

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girl4music · 2 years

Photo

WILLOW: “Tomorrow night... we're bringing Buffy back.”

XANDER: “Tomorrow? I don't know.”

ANYA: “Um, Discovery Channel has monkeys. And our tape machine's all wonky.”

WILLOW: “Guys, I need you on board here.”

XANDER: “It's just... It feels wrong.”

TARA: “It is wrong. It's against all the laws of nature, and practically impossible to do, but it's what we agreed to. If you guys are changing your minds-”

WILLOW: “Nobody’s changing their minds. Period.”

XANDER: “Excuse me? Who made you the boss of the group?”

ANYA: “You did.”

TARA: “You said Willow should be boss.”

ANYA: “And then you said, “let’s vote,” and it was unanimous.”

TARA: “And then you made her this little plaque that said, “Boss of Us,” and you put little sparkles on it.”

XANDER: “Valid points, all. But we... I mean... We were just talking then.”

WILLOW: “Xander, I can do this, I promise. But not without you.”

ANYA: “Should we maybe tell Giles? You know, now that we're really ready? It's not like he's going anywhere. Ever.”

WILLOW: “No. No one else can know. Not Giles, not Spike, not Dawn. They might not understand.”

TARA: “What if something does go wrong?”

WILLOW: “I'm telling you it won't.”

XANDER: “Scenario - We raise Buffy from the grave, she tries to eat our brains. Do we, a. congratulate ourselves on a job well done-”

WILLOW: “Xander, this isn't zombies.”

ANYA: “Zombies don't eat brains anyway unless instructed to by their zombie masters. A lot of people get that wrong.”

WILLOW: “This isn't like Dawn trying to bring Mrs. Summers back, or anything we've dealt with before. Buffy didn't die a natural death. She was killed by mystical energy.”

TARA: “Which means we do have a shot.”

WILLOW: “It means more than that. It means we don't know... where she really is.”

XANDER: “We saw her body, Will. We buried it.”

WILLOW: “Her body, yeah. But her soul... her essence... I mean, that could be somewhere else. She could be trapped in some sort of hell dimension like Angel was. Suffering eternal torment just because she saved us, and I'm not gonna let... I'm not gonna leave her there. It's Buffy.”

In a military, it is said that a second-in-command can’t stand in as general when another general is on duty because the ranks of soldiers are only ever supposed to follow one voice or the system goes wrong. The procedure is to take the general out of commission before the second-in-command can stand in their place. That’s how the military authoritarian system works.

Someone tell me what did Willow even bother resurrecting Buffy for if, after all this time, she really just wanted to be the one in power and control? The one leading the army? The one in the highest authority? It scared her to be the “BIG GUN” - the secret weapon - and she refused to be just the sidekick. She got what she wanted in Season 6... but she chose to bring Buffy back from some place where she’d never need to lead again and Willow could be THE BOSS indefinitely. If I didn’t understand that this character’s issue was imposter syndrome, I’d think she had a split personality disorder because she couldn’t pick a fucking narrative. A part of her wanted to be THE BOSS, some other part settled with being the “BIG GUN”, and another part of her would have rather been nothing at all because that’s how she started and although she hated feeling that way, she was most comfortable and familiar with it. I guess it all depended on which character of the week she was wearing which she wanted to be on any given day. But identifying all these characters she wore and roles she assumed as a cohesive whole that makes Willow Rosenberg who she actually is - was really what she needed to do because all of it was who Willow was. Giles makes that pretty clear to her in Season 7. That the light, dark and all-that’s-in-between is who she truly is.

Personally I don’t think it was because she wanted Buffy out of the way why she got up in arms about her being the BOSS in the moments when they were in a conflict. I think it’s because she wanted Buffy under her. You can interpret that phrase any which way you want to but I genuinely think that’s why she wanted to bring her back from the dead deep down. She wanted that showdown. She wanted to prove that she could stand toe-to-toe with the Slayer in a fight to show that they were levelled in power and in control and that they were both BOSS. She didn’t want her dead. She didn’t want her AWOL, and she most certainly didn't want her doing it alone. She wanted to be with her, leading alongside her as equal partners and equal commanders. That they ended up equal rivals was down to the fact that she couldn’t get a handle on the responsibility herself. She knew she needed Buffy just as much as Buffy needed her. And the only way to prove it was to beat her down - whether that be verbally or physically. The surface excuse for Willow to bring Buffy back was because she thought she was in a hell dimension and that it was only her doing her diligence as a loyal loving friend to get her out of it. But the deep-seated truth was to have it off with her. She just didn’t plan for it to be so violently. But things happened the way they happened and it culminated in one of the greatest pay-offs in the show.

The question is, even with Buffy around taking as equal command and responsibility, would Willow lead well? I think so, just maybe a bit more aggressively than Buffy. She’s not an aggressive person but she's more strict. There wouldn’t be any leeway for disturbance or distraction in the ranks with her and when under pressure, she'd definitely be hardcore at laying down the law. It would have been interesting to see how she would have faired as general with Buffy also on duty. But any time when Willow felt like she could be leader she just clashed with Buffy instead of worked with her. So maybe there’s something to that military saying. Maybe one voice is the only voice that should be followed. In that case, she should have left her dead. I don’t know, maybe Riley and Sam could have showed them the ropes and they could have figured it out from there because I’m sure there is more benefit to having two leaders than just a solitary one. After all, isn’t that what Season 7 is about and what the ending episode ,‘Chosen’, subverted? Why only one girl in all the world at any one time? Why can’t there be hundreds? So I ask the same question to our beloved Scooby Gang, why only the one BOSS leading all the members in it? Subvert the stupid system. Find a way to work it!

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echantedtoon · 5 months

Text

Love Doesn't Do Encores Ch36 Welcome To Spikemuth

(Here's a pic of the motorcycle if anyone needs a visual. Is there anything specific people want to do in Spikemuth with or without Piers? Also my noticfications have been acting wonky lately so if anyone wasn't informed of the last chapter getting posted I apologize. Also, what names shall we have for the other shiny pokemon. You can see what kind of shiny pokemon the reader has back in Ch27 titled Christmas With Piers.)

You left on the evening train. Just a few hours after Victor left and chatting to everyone to pass the time before you did leave. After all you made sure you had packed everything. Paid for the ticket to Hammerlocke. And had been sure to pay Mrs. L for your extra time there before you left and made sure the basement room she rented to you was cleaned before you left. And bought enough travel food to last yourself until you reach Hammerlocke. There wasn't any lose ends to take care of before you left besides to say good bye to everyone. You were excited to be heading to Spikemuth!..But also a little scared to be traveling by yourself and sad to be leaving the place you made friends with, but this was a great chance to benefit yourself. If you were going to live in this world from now on you had to make a living for yourself. Besides. You could always come back and visit Postwick. It was all just a train ride away. Around four o'clock the evening train rumbled into the station and with the ticket you purchased from the station master, you slid it into the small slot while picking up Silver into your arms to pass through the gate, and into the train car you went. Smiling sadly and waving goodbye to them until the announcer sounded over the speakers for any last passengers to board before they left. With one last good bye you turned into the car and walked inside. Getting seated into one of the many bright colorful seats and the train pulled away from the station. Leaving everyone behind. But it was ok. Everything was going to be ok.

You were going home.

CHIRP!! You looked over towards the source of the loud noise and found yourself face to face with a familiar face as Silver made it his mission to climb on top of the table and just sit there looking out the window as he just plopped himself down. Still wearing that hoodie you bought for him so long ago. You couldn't help but chuckle which made him look at you.

"I'm sorry," you apologized even though you weren't sorry in the slightest. "You just look adorable wearing that." CHIRP!! He frowned and gave an annoyed look your way. Oops. You forget these guys could understand human language. "Hey. I didn't mean it like that. You really do look nice in that. But if you ever evolve again it'll be too small for you." He frowned more before just flopping on his stomach facing the window and you chuckled at him before reaching over to pat him on the head. "Alright buddy. You go ahead and rest. We'll be home soon."

At least you weren't traveling alone this time. As one day turned into two then three then four then an entire week and more. On your way to Hammerlocke you'd find yourself trying to talk with Silver every so often, which was more lively than you thought. You could read him pretty well as he responded with facial expressions, sounds, nods and shakes of his head, and gestures with his small pink hands. Often using it to wake you up or pointing to your backpack to indicate he wanted food. Which you happily gave to him. Watching him gulp down the food you gave him like no tomorrow making you chuckle. You couldn't remember how many days had passed, too busy looking out the window or playing with Silver but you made sure to listen to the announcer every time he gave an update to where you would be stopping but none were the stop you were looking for. It was during one night you had woken up early in the morning to Silver trying to rummage through your luggage looking for food. Making your groggy self annoyed shooing him off your pack. And then once you knew he wouldn't do it again, tried to lean back in the seat and tried to go back to sleep-

"Attention Passengers! We will be arriving in Hammerlocke within fifthteen minutes!"

You went from groggy to semi awake faster than Silver could use water gun. Blinking in your stupor, you looked out the window. The sky was still dark but the new sun in the morning was starting to come up over the edge of the horizon. Letting you know that the morning was indeed coming and your stop was coming in FIFTHTEEN MINUTES!! Jumping up, you quickly began gathering up your things and securing them in your bag before snatching up Silver in your arms as he gave a noise as you stood by waiting patiently looking out the window as the train wheezed and slowed until it completely stopped and you stood up. Making your way to the exit doors that had opened.

"Attention Passengers! We have now arrived in Hammerlocke! The morning train leaving Hammerlocke Station will depart in fifthteen minutes! Please exit or enter the train within that time. That's all!"

You made your way out of the gates and into the familiar Hammerlocke Station you've been to so many times beforehand. Smiling as you could finally properly stretch your legs for a moment, looking around and seeing the familiar curry side cafe tucked away in the corner of the station you all had eaten before and then letting out an embarrassed sigh when your stomach rumbled. You did want something other than travel foods that tasted bland and dried for too long. But you doubted you had enough money in your pockets leftover to buy anything for yourself let alone Silver so you two would have to stick to the leftover travel foods for now. Silver was placed down and he followed you out from the station where you stopped resting your hands on your backpack straps and looked around. More of the sky was lighter and already there was a few people running around. Mostly a bunch of parents with their children, backpacks on their backs escorting their little ones towards the Hammerlocke school up the road. And some others looking like they were heading on their way to work. A typical start to many peoples' days. ..But now you had only one other problem. What were you supposed to do now? You were sure Sonia would've called Piers to let him know you were coming like you asked her and you had come to Hammerlocke like he had asked you to do, but....What now? Now that you were here should you just wait? But how long would that take? Was Piers already here somewhere? If so where? ...Maybe you should try finding Raihan and seeing if he knew where Piers was? You really didn't want to do that last one but considering the two were friends, that would probably be your best bet right now. Plus he owed you one for helping to save his stadium from those two thieves. With a sigh, you turned your body and motioned to Silver to follow you towards the draw bridge leading towards the gym.

"Follow me, Sil. Let's see if we can't find anyone around here to help us."

Silver chirped and followed you as you began stepping towards the stadium. As you walked you took in the sight of Hammerlocke by yourself since it was the first time coming here by yourself, it actually seemed a lot more peaceful now which was good. You liked the peace after going through so much hectic events happened in the last year and a half. You approached the corner where you'd find the turn off for the stadium right by the resident pokemon center and was about to turn to walk to the stadium's entrance but you were stopped by one loud voice.

"Hey, Sassy!," someone called out and your body froze on instinct. There was only ONE person's who's voice caught you're attention that THAT could belong to. And as you turned your head, you confirmed your fears as none other than Raihan him was already walking out from the gym's entrance towards you. Hand up in the air waving towards you. "I thought I saw a beautiful lady and her drizzle. Was wondering when you would show up!"

"Oh really?," you asked back crossing your arms and giving a groan. "Don't tell me that Piers-"

"Asked me to look out for you when you got here?," he asked interrupting you with that usual smirk on his face. "Haha! Pretty much! But I really wasn't expecting you this early. Lucky for you huh?"

"tch. Unbelievable." You pointed at him as he stopped in front of you. "What are you even doing out this early in the morning? I thought someone like you would be too busy to stay in Hammerlocke for so long."

As if to answer you his hand just pointed straight up. "I'm staying here until my stadium's roof is completely fixed. It's taking longer than usual due to the Chairwoman running all over the place trying to fix things and get them ready by next year." He sighed rubbing his head. "Things here are really a hot spot for bad guy operations lately."

"Why don't you just have Sordward and Shielbert pay for the repairs and speed it up a little bit?"

He turned to you and blinked. "What?"

"The guys with the weird hair that broke in," you said gesturing to your head, "They're super rich and the Chairwoman's already making them pay for repairs and renovations in order to make them pay for what they did. And they must've caused some damage to your roof. It wouldn't hurt them at all to just have them pay for the fix ups to pay you back."

Raihan stared at you for a moment humming..before smiling widely. "Hey! That's not a bad idea. You're a smart cookie."

You shrugged. "Eh. I'm just pointing out the most obvious solution." Before you looked around the place for any flashes of black and white. "So where is Piers? I'm supposed to be meeting him here before I head to Spikemuth."

"Oh he'll be here," he assured you, "But not until around noon. With how Piers drives it usually takes him a little bit to get places."

"..Wait. Piers is driving?"

"Yeah. He said something about you not liking to fly so he's driving his way here instead. Pretty sweet huh? Piers doesn't do this for everyone y'know."

"I didn't know he had a car."

"Motorcycle actually."

"Still. I could've just walked by way there. It's not that far from Hammerlocke."

"True, but Piers considers you a friend at this point." he smiled a knowing look at you which you didn't get at first. "And Piers is always down to help those he cares about."

Well that was news to you as you blinked surprised. "We're...friends?"

"Of course! Piers doesn't really say he's friends with anyone even if you are but he'll let you know you're friends through actions. He's an actions speak louder than words kinda guy most of the time." And as if a lightbulb went off in his head, he smiled and pointed his hand to the left. "Hey. Since Piers asked me to be a good host how about I treat you and you're little friend to breakfast? He's not going to show up until later anyways."

At the mention of food your stomach grumbled again and you gave an embarrassed face to his chuckle. Well...He DID owe you one so you'd be knocking out his owed favor and getting some grub at the same time. And he was actually the one who offered so it wouldn't hurt to accept this. After a moment of thinking it over you nodded but shot him a warning look.

"Alright but don't try anything. I have Silver and I'm not afraid to use him."

"Trust me. I know that."

Reluctantly you allowed Raihan to guide you on over towards that cafe you ate the last time you were there. The same one where you had pulled the hood over Raihan's face...You chuckled at the memory but decided it was best not to pull something like that again. Unless..of course. He tried to pull something again. Hopefully he wouldn't along the way he was stopped by one or two people who he allowed to take pictures with him before continuing on your way. Good to know he was still popular. As soon as you two got into the restaurant and sat down the older man behind the counter greeted him like an old friend before you two placed the orders, having him disappear into the back to prepare said food for the both of you and Silver who was plopped into the seat next to you. Leaving the three of you alone to wait for him to come back with your food. Until he looked to you with a smile and decided to break the ice with a question.

"So how was the trip over here? From what I've gathered you seem to travel a whole lot."

You blinked surprised at the seemingly normal question but still rose a brow. "It was alright but I don't want to make a habit out of it. A bit chilly though."

He nodded. "Well it is nearing the fall months right around now. Seems time flies when you're helping to save Galar huh? Oh hey. That's right." He pointed leaning back in his chair. "You were always traveling with your friends right? So would this be the first time you traveled alone?"

You shook your head. "No. I came here alone last year during Mr. Rose's main event remember? And I have gone places by myself before even before I met you guys." Ah yes. Jobs, runs to the store, walking to school- You shook your head. "But what about you? How are you holding up with everything that's happened in Hammerlocke?"

This time it was his turn to look surprised and you blinked when the usually smiling man actually groaned. "It's been-..Well-.." He made a rolling motion with one of his hands. "It's had it's ups and downs. Mostly a temporary hit to my credibility as a gym leader and good person."

"Wait..Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Being the person's who's gym not only harbored that-...'thing' the Chairman tried to bring back but also was subjugated to two attacks and the fact I failed to keep one out..Uh." A hand reached up to rub his face with a sigh. "I should count myself lucky Lee vouched for me and me obviously being proven innocent by the police. Really scared about what might've happened to my trainers y'know."

This time you were surprised this guy was thinking about the welfare of the trainers he was basically raising, but considering that he has indicated he cared for them before their wasn't really a surprise there he was worried about them first.

You nodded. "Yeah. I can get that..How are they anyways?"

"Huh? Oh. They're fine. Right now they're off at school with a whole bunch of other kids. Y'know it is a school day."

"Ah yeah. So um....Which one of them is your actual successor?"

"Sebastian! His sisters are more into traveling and wanting to start their own businesses. Which I fully support! But speaking of which I heard your friends got some pretty sweet positions too." he smiled. "From Gym Challengers endorsed by the Champion to Heroes and now to being full on trained by gym leaders and the prodigy of a famous professor." He huffed a chuckle. "Those three are something else. I bet Sonia's going to have a field day with her next book."

"Next book?"

He nodded. "Her first one nearly sold out so her second one about the other incident should also do really well. I'm surprised you didn't already get a copy."

You blinked but shook your head. "No. But I'll have to grab a few and have her sign them for me. I bet they'd be a great pass time to read."

Your two's conversation was cut short when the food was brought out and your empty stomach made all your attention turn to the food placed down in front of you. Digging into the delicious waffles along with Silver who also seemed preoccupied with his own food to notice Raihan. In the end you considered things even between you and Raihan for now at least. You weren't sure if another big bad guy was going to swoop in and try to start trouble and surprisingly...the rest of the conversations between you two were actually nice. Mostly about domestic things like how everyone was doing and what your hobbies were. Which you were happy to comply to keep the friendly atmosphere going. Surprising to find out more about Raihan's daily life and how he took the incidents that happened. Before you knew it the food was gone and paid for. The dishes taken and you two both continued to talk and talk as Silver bored sat there. Eventually another round of food was had after a couple hours and you declined his second offer of buying you lunch. You had enough money left for you and Silver for lunch and you decided you didn't want to owe anyone anymore favors, especially Raihan. Although you had come to an understanding that be was actually a decent guy ..when he wasn't flirting with you or being smug at least. By now it must've been near noon time. You were taking a moment to eat through your lunch when a familiar ring tone sounded out and you paused when an orange blur suddenly shot up from one of Raihan's pockets. A rotomi phone. The pokemon inside the phone floated up towards Raihan who smiled at it when it spoke in a robotic like voice.

"Incoming phone call from Emo Softy. Would you like to Accept Call or Decline Call?"

"Accept Call."

"Emo Softy?," you asked at the same time making his smile turn to you.

"Well yeah. I have nicknames for all my friends, Sassy. Don't you?"

Well..you kinda did. But a voice picked up through the other side of the line. "It's 'bout time ya picked up." A calm, bored sounding voice. And you both instantly knew who that was.

Raihan only smiled and said to the phone, "What? It was only a few seconds since you called me first. Don't I at least get a little credit on my end?"

A groan answered him. "Jus' where are ya? 'M already here at the stadium."

"Oh. We're not there. We're at that cafe we ate at for your birthday that one year remember? The one that sold the pokemon safe cake you gave your obstagoon."

There was a slight pause. "...We?"

"Yeah." Raihan smiled at you. And as you weren't looking Silver reached over and grabbed your plate, quietly sliding it over towards him to eat while you weren't paying attention. "We. Me, Sassy, and her little bodyguard. We're having lunch. You should come over and join us actually. This plate has great food."

Again another pause before the voice cleared his throat on the other side before saying, "M' on my way." Before hanging up.

Raihan gave a few chuckles before the phone zipped back to his jacket pocket. "Well it looks like we're going to have a guest soon."

Piers. Piers!! Piers was coming to see you. An excited feeling fluttered in your chest but that must've been from the thought of seeing someone who considered you a friend again. You fork came back down- Clink! Your f/c eyes blinked back to the table your fork connected with realizing your plate was no longer there before your eyes trailed over to Silver who shoveled the last of the lunch YOU paid for YOURSELF into his mouth. Making you scowl and Raihan laugh.

"Silver!"

Unsurprisingly he didn't see the problem with taking your food and you were left sitting there with only half the plate eaten. Although your attention to the window soon made you forget all about your stolen lunch and Raihan as you all just waited anxiously. Or just you really. And you instantly perked up as a man slightly slouched over with long black and white spikey hair appeared briskly walking past the store window. PIERS!! You felt your lips smile widely in happiness as the punk opened the door and stepped right in the little bell over the door ringing out. And he instantly stopped in the doorway once he stepped into the door. Because he instantly saw you and vise versa. Not waiting for anyone else to happen, you jumped up from your seat startling Silver who blinked at you and you waved at him.

"Piers!"

..A tiny smile speared across his face. "'Bunny! Yer here!...I mean." He cleared his throat hand reaching up to grab his choker before he walked in more. "'S good to see ya again."

You smiled brightly at him as Raihan looked between you two with a knowing look. "Same here. I'm happy to see you too. Man. It's been so long since I've been able to see you again. How are you?"

He hummed that small smile still on his face as he did so. "'M fine. 'Course I was jus' not sure if you'd be 'ere or not. I wasn't sure if I came here too early or too late. Seems we're both lucky huh?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Seems my luck is always getting better with you around. You're like a walking good luck charm!"

Piers blinked at your words before his eyes darted to the right suddenly interested in the ceiling, and a slight pink hue lit up on his cheeks. "Uh huh....*ahem* W-Well are ya ready ta go?"

"Oh already?" So soon? He nodded and you shrugged. "Sure. Just give me a second to grab something real quick."

You went to grab your back pack and Raihan stood up with a sigh. "Well I guess it was fun while this lasted. I'll walk you two out."

Silver shuffled off the seat after you and after Raihan tossed a few bills on the table for the tip, the lot of you made your way back out the cafe with you smiling brightly like a child who just got free candy between the two guys. Raihan gave one look over to Piers who glanced at you but once he caught Raihan's gaze, the dragon man wagged his brows at him making the punk scowl silently back at him. The three of you walked all the way to where you remembered the way back to Spikemuth from when you all traveled there last year. Travel all the way down Route Eight until you reached the fork in the road that branched off into the rest of Route Eight and Route Nine. Then travel down Route Nine until you reach Route Nine Tunnel which marked the halfway point to Spikemuth, then go through a small forested area and boom! You'd reach Spikemuth. Upon reaching the exit out of Hammerlocke, you paused seeing what Piers walked over to. A motorcycle! I mean..Raihan had told you he had one but you were actually expecting to see one. It was a model unknown to you but it was dripped out in the classic magenta, white, and black colors Piers usually associated himself with. A magenta traveling bag strapped near the front that must've belonged to him, and a small white helmet and goggle set with a hot pink stripe on the back was hung on the handlebars which Piers instantly grabbed once he got near it. You slowed your steps approaching the bike wide eyed admiring it as Piers placed the helmet on his head securing the straps and throwing the goggles. You only really blinked when something was held up towards you which turned out to be another helmet than was tan. You slowly took it from him.

"'Ere," Piers said pointing at it. "I had an' extra for Marnie, but you'd need if you're gonna ride with me. " He paused.."You have ridden one of these 'fore right?"

You shook your head no. "Not really. I've ridden a bicycle before but never a motorcycle." You then placed the helmet over your own head and reached to attach the straps around your own chin.

Piers hummed. "Well..Jus' hop on and hang on tight to me. It'll take a few days to get there but it'll be faster than walking." He then looked at Silver and pointed. "An' he'll need to ride in a pokeball. There's not enough room for three of us."

Well that was understandable. It took a few minutes of convincing and Silver whining and clinging to your arm but you managed to get him back in his pokeball and secured him safely in your backpack. In the mean time Raihan walked right over to Piers who gave him a look.

"....Thanks for helpin' out."

"It's no biggy," he said waving a hand before smiling widely. "But if you gotta know her favorite hobbies is reading, literally anything involving music, going on walks, and she dabbles in cooking. Her favorite food is the sweet instant noodle curry and the sweet cheese one too. She hates people flirting with her out right if you don't get to know he-"

"What are you talking about?," Piers asked interrupting Raihan in his tyrade as you busied yourself with putting Silver away and climbing onto the back of his bike carefully.

Raigan smirked. "Oh. Just something to help you become better friends...Or if you ever decide to hang out again."

Piers opened his mouth ready to tell Raihan to come off it but he froze eyes suddenly blown wide and Raihan blinked for a moment confused as to why Piers suddenly looked like he saw a ghost but soon found out when he noticed that two arms were wrapped around his middle. Causing the punk to flush a slightly deeper shade of pink as you..Well you did exactly as Piers advised and what people usually did when riding the person driving the motorcycle. You made sure the helment was on securely before hopping onto the back seat and wrapped your arms around Piers in order to keep from falling off. Oblivious to the blush across Piers's face as you smiled at him.

"I think I'm ready so you can start the thing."

Piers took a moment to process what you said before he cleared his throat and his hands grabbed onto the handles. "R-Right. *ahem*" With one leg he pushed the motorcycle in an upright position from it's parked form ignoring the smirk Raihan was boring into him before twisting the handle and the engine purred to life. Your arms on instinct tightening just a bit more around him and with one kick off the motorcycle took off down the road. "Hang on. O-Ok." ..Although not as fast as you expected him to go. You both indeed take off. Down the dirt path. ...Well it was certainly faster than you could walk and it was faster than you could even run actually. Certainly faster than Silver could run too. But not as fast as a car or anything like that. If you'd have to compare the speed to something, it would be a scorbunny jogging pleasantly down the path.

But who were you to complain? You both left Hammerlocke behind and the visual of Raihan waving good bye to the two of you and you would've waved back if you weren't too scared of falling off being this was your first time on a motorcycle and while it WAS better than flying, not having the comfort of walls between you and a crash and the lack of a seat belt made you a bit nervous. You watched back as Hammerlocke slowly got smaller and smaller until it completely disappeared other than a small visual of it looking as if it was a small toy castle. After a moment you turned back around the scenery as it passed. Silently the two of you road for what seemed like a long moment before you looked back to him curious.

....

.......

Well you decided to ask him.

"Hey." You weren't sure if he could hear you at first over the wind and engine but he tilted his head slightly indicating he was listening to you. "Why don't we go a little faster?"

"Cuz my motto 's safety first," he replied back loudly for you to hear him. "An' this is your first time ridin' with me like this. I ain't taking any chances with you 'gain." He mumbled a last part to himseld. "Arceus knows you don't deserve any more trouble."

"Oh. ....How long will it take us to reach Spikemuth like this?"

"About three and a half days," he answered back, "But I'm plannin' on driving all night tonight so it should be shortened to a day n' a half. Hope ya don't mind but I don't like the idea of leaving Marnie all alone for too long."

Oh. Well that was completely understandable. "No it's fine. Honestly I'm sure I can pull an all nighter." You've done so before a couple times when you were studying for a test or did a night shift at a job your mother badgered you to do. "But will you be ok?"

He seemed to pause for a moment again..and you didn't see it but he blinked as if the question was foriegn to him. "Wot?"

You were oblivious to his face so again asked, "Are you going to be alright driving all night? I don't want you hurting yourself if you become too exhausted."

He didn't answer at first but eventually regained himself and nodded. "Yeah. I'll be fine. You jus' make sure ta just hang on and d-don't let go. I don't want you gettin' hurt anymore."

"Same here. I don't ever want to see you with a hurt arm let alone anything else again."

..He nervously gulped. "R-Right."

The next two and half days were pretty bland. Night soon fell upon the two of you but as Piers had said he kept driving. Half because he wanted to get back to Spikemuth and Marnie and half because he wanted an excuse to ignore the thoughts that made his heart pound in his chest for reasons he'd rather not contemplate. Switching a switch on his motorbike to make the front light turn on so he could see in the dark night as you stayed up to cling to him. You were tired of course but it was easier to stay away knowing you could fall off the bike and you definitely didn't want to end up in the hospital again. So through the night you drove on and on. The moon rising and falling as the night went on. Sometime during the middle of the night you both passed the fork in the road where Piers turned onto Route Nine and continued until the sun came up and he continued onwards still. You were so tired yawning every ten minutes or so, but you somehow were able to just stay awake blinking your tired eyes.

"Are you alright there?", he asked you a few hours into riding the second day...before he totally froze upon feeling something soft smooshing against his back and it took him a solid moment to realize your face was laid against his shoulder as you tried to keep yourself awake. Resulting in pink again rushing to his cheeks.

You nodded with another small yawn and blink head against his shoulder. "Y-Yeah. Just a bit..tired. Y'know?"

" W-W-Well...*ahem* Just stay awake for a lil longer. We'll be able to sleep tonight. Kay?"

You nodded still leaned against him and thus he continued to drive. By the midday of the day you both came upon something and you blinked your tired eyes up and behind you as the world blackened for just a few seconds before it was gone. Looking behind you, you realized what it was. A tunnel like bridge and it took you're tired brain a few seconds to realize something. That was the Route Nine Tunnel. That means you two were more than half way to Spikemuth already. That was a good sign. So again you two continued on with you leaning into him more as the day passed and eventually the sky started to darkened and the sunset started to form on the horizon. It was then that Piers began to slow down the bike even more and you blinked tilting your head up as he completely stopped, parking the bike, and reaching up to pull the helmet off himself as you slowly removed yourself from himself and the bike as well.

"We'll rest here for the night 'n travel the rest 'o the way in the mornin'," he commented looking over at the quickly setting sun. "With any luck we'll be there by tomorrow."

"Mm hm." you yawned again half stumbling have fumbling to get off the bike and reach towards your pack in order to reach your sleeping bag. You were just so tired that you just wanted to sleep.

The night was a blur. Somehow you managed to fish out your sleeping bag and crawl into it, completely falling asleep as soon as your head had hit the ground. Leaving Piers to look at you for a moment before sighing and shaking his head before also retiring for the night. You were awoken the next morning by light in your eyes and noises coming from somewhere near you.

"Hey. You."

when you opened your eyes blinking it took a moment of you yawning, rubbing your eyes, and letting your brain catch up to you before you were able to sit up and realize what was going on. Piers was already up and already to go. Already with the helmet and goggles on and currently strapping his travel bag back onto the front. But he did take notice enough of you stirring to talk to you.

"So you're finally awake."

You blinked and yawned again before stretching. "Y-Yeah. Man. What time is it?"

"Still early. Around eight in the mornin' I think." He turned to you before nodding over towards the bike. "C'mon. We're almost there. I'll help ya pack up."

After repacking everything back up and letting you wake up enough to put the helmet back on your head properly Piers was just about to hop back on the bike before something was shoved at him making him blink. It was a hand, your hand, holding out a piece of travel jerky to him. And he looked over to you who smiled while already chowing down on a piece of your own.

"Here. Breakfast." You said placing the small food into his palm. "You're probably hungry after all that driving. I don't have a lot but you can have that until you get back home." He blinked raising a brow between you and the food..before opening his mouth. "Dude. Don't try to give it back." You interrupted him making him lean his head taken aback as you pointed your free hand at him. "I know for a fact you didn't eat anything yesterday and you certainly didn't even eat anything this morning. You need to eat something even if it's just that. I'm not taking no for an answer about that."

"But I-''

"Piers." You narrowed your eyes at him. "I am NOT getting on that back until you eat that. Seriously, you need to take care of yourself dude." You smiled at him and he paused seeing it. "And I don't want to see you getting hurt ok?"

Piers just stood there staring at your smile. Your words slowly sinking into him conflicting emotions going through his mind. ..Until he eventually just said, "Thanks."

You two did eventually get back onto the bike and start to drive back again now more awake and less hungry than before although you did keep your promise and refuse to get back onto the bike until he at least ate the food you had given him. Long story short the two of you did reach Spikemuth. Through the woods and eventually out the other side as he slowed down the bike even more as he approached and you turned your head over his shoulder to look at the new restored town. And your eyes widened at what you saw. The high crumbling walls looked like someone knocked them down and slapped a brand new brick wall around the city as you two approached and with Piers slowing down more you saw even more improvement writing into town. It all looked brand new-ish! No trash was anywhere. The buildings looked normal and while not brand new looking was better than the worn out look they had before. The signs and broken lamp posts was no longer broken. But what really surprised you was the amount of people walking around that wasn't Team Yell. There was ACTUALLY a decent amount of regular looking people walking around the streets of all ages. From an elderly couple to a couple people and their children. As you two passed a couple of people also clearly noticed Piers and either pointed or waved at him as you passed. Well it looked like Piers was still well known to some people. You smiled as you admired the place which looked like now any other Surburban neighborhood. Already you felt a good vibe come off this place. The ride coming slower and slower until you blinked as you both once again came to a complete stop in front of the gym stadium. He must've felt your confusion because he answered you.

"Marn-marn's waitin' for me here." He said before reaching his hands up to remove the helmet from his head. Shaking to where his ponytails shifted about before looking behind him at you. "The friend I told ya 'bout who's rentin' her house works for me as well. Ruby's the one who usually takes care of the garage with R.J. an' Benjamin. ...And the one who keeps everyone in check when I'm not here." he mumbled that last part to himself before shaking his head and carefully placing the helmet on one of the handles. "C'mon. I'll introduce ya."

You blinked at Piers but quickly made to remove your helmet and follow after the lanky man who calmly walked up to the gym's giant exposed entrance letting you both see the inside easily and even more as you two walked up the street and right into it. Piers stopping first his blue eyes pointing towards one corner and you blinked following his gaze over to said corner and also paused. Because standing there was Marnie, with her back towards the both of you talking to a woman decked out in Team Yell attire and the two of them were staring at a phone the woman held as they seemed to be talking about something, but Piers interrupted the two with a smile and a small tune as he stepped forward and sung something out.

"'M coming home.~" Both ladies jumped and instantly snapped their heads up and around to Piers who smiled and held his arms out in a gesture. "Tell the world I'm comin' home.~"

Marnie's reaction was instant. "Piers!" And you watched as the younger of the two siblings ran up to her big brother to let the both of them embrace in a hug. Which made you smile. "What took ya so long?" Marnie demanded face buried in her brother's chest from the hug. "You're travelin' and gone from home so much lately."

"I know. An' I'm sorry about that," he assured her with a couple pats to her back. "But I made a promise ta someone to help 'em out an' y'know I always keep my promises. Like I also promise I'm not going anywhere for a good while, Marn-Marn." He turned his head over towards you and Marnie eventually followed his gaze landing on you. "Ya remember Leon's mate, right?"

Marnie looked at you slowly pulling away from her brother's hug and blinked at you but nodded. "Oh yeah. You're my big brother's new friend." She curiously turned her eyes up towards Piers raising a brow. "So you're the gal he went ta help? ...Hm. He seems to like helpin' you out a lot."

Piers gave her a look but you just smiled and nodded. "Well he's a really nice guy that's for sure. I bet he's a great big brother too."

"Hmm..Well you're not wrong about that."

Piers cleared his throat gaining your attention and motioning over for the woman who was previously chatting to Marnie to come over. "A-Anyways since you two already know each other." He quickly changed the topic pointing between you and the woman. "Y/n, this 's Ruby. Ruby this is the gal I told ya 'bout."

The woman blinked over to you and you noticed she had yellow eyes and some of the hair dye Team Yell used had started to fade revealing some faint red hair underneath. She looked you up and down for a moment before smiling. "Oh. You're the woman interested in the room for rent."

You nodded. "Y-Yeah. Piers said you were looking for a new tenant."

Ruby nodded back. "He said some good things about you, and I trust Piers's judgement so I'd be happy to go over the lease contract with you. But unfortunately I'm still on shift and don't get off until five. I'd be happy to go over everything with you then though."

You held up your hands understanding. "That's alright. I can wait. It'd probably be best for me to look around the town anyways. And this might be a good chance to go job hunting anyways."

Piers blinked. "Already? Ya just got here."

You nodded at him. "Yeah but it'd be better to get situated as soon as possible. You mentioned you knew some places around here who were hiring?"

Piers still blinked but Marnie answered you. "There's that new cafe a few blocks away from here." She said pointing out the gym. "It was converted by the new owner of the ol' ice cream shop. Heard it was lookin' for new waitresses."

Hey! That wasn't too far from the gym actually! Smiling you turned and waved at them. "Well then that's where I'm heading! I'll be back around five so I can talk to Ruby about that lease."

''W-Wait. Do ya even know where you're goin'?," Piers asked holding out a hand and called after your form. "Don't you even need a ride there?"

You shook your head. "No. It's just three blocks to the right from the gym. I remember that from the last time I was here." You waved. "Thanks for the ride Piers! I owe you one!"

He stood there for a moment hand outstretched before slowly returning his hand to his side silently as Marnie looked between where you had disappeared and her brother for a moment seeming to see something he didn't before asking.

"If ya want to ask her out there's no shame in it."

"M-MARNIE!!"

You smiled walking through the familiar streets of Spikemuth. The brighter atmosphere and other people walking around put a smile on your face at the peaceful atmosphere. You were right. Piers was a great gym leader because if this is was how it was like when he was in charge, then Piers must be doing a good job looking after his town. It was incredible at home much the town had changed since your last visit. As you passed different homes and a few small businesses, you eventually came to the small cafe that was once the run down ice cream shop. Repainted, repaired, and reopened with a 'Now Hiring' sign in one of the windows. Perfect! Smiling you walked right up to the door and opened it. A small bell went off above you echoing out throughout the small cafe you walked into. Making you blink and look around. It looked like any other generic restaurant you've eaten at. About as big as the cafe in Hammerlocke but a bit bigger, with a couple tables and booths lined up on the opposite wall and by the windows with black and white tiled flooring and a couple lights and ceiling fans above you. There was a bar counter with a couple stools and a cash register sat upon the very end. Behind the counter was a shelf with bottles of drinks, soda cans, and instant noodles packages with a coffee pot right next to the shelf. A pair of double doors was by the counter which you guessed must've lead to the kitchen and back rooms. Seemed like a nice place to work.

"Hello?," you called out when no one answered the bell.

What answered you was a clatter from the back kitchen making you jump and turn towards the double doors as footsteps approached. You watched as the double doors swung open and an older woman maybe mid forties in a professional chef outfit with the white sleeves rolled up and apron around her waist. Her light pink hair was already starting to lightly grey in some places, she smiled when she saw you.

"Welcome!," she greeted in a slightly higher pitched voice. "Sorry if I didn't hear you come in. I was in the back putting away some stock. What can I get for you?"

"Actually." Your hand pointed over towards the sign in the big window. "I'm here for the job opening?"

She seemed to instantly beam at this with a large smile. "You are?" You nodded and she huffed a chuckle. "Well hallelujah. That old sign's been hanging there for months now and no one's answered the call." She gestured to herself. "The name's Barbara. And you are?"

"Y/n," you said extending your hand to her to shake hers. "What job position are you looking for?"

She roughly shook yours. She seemed strong for her age. "Basically a helper around here of sorts. Someone to man the register, take orders, clean up the tables. The whole works. You have any job experiences doing those things?"

You nodded your head. "I worked at a cafe once as a summer job when I was seventeen." You answered truthfully.

"You're hired!"

You blinked....."Wait. Just like ..that?"

She nodded. "Yep! Been waiting for someone to start working and you're the first in months to show interest." You blinked when she pointed at you. "You start first thing Friday morning. Be here by six sharp and I'll run you through everything you need to know."

"Actually if you have time, you can go ahead and show me right now. I don't have anywhere to be until five anyways."

Barbara blinked looking surprised for a moment before she smiled widely again and slapped your shoulder making you wince. "Ha! I like you already! Sure. Follow me and I'll show you were everything is and what you'll be doing!"

And she did. Showed you the kitchen which looked like your standard cafe kitchen with a grill, fryer, sink, dishwasher, oven, and a large place for dishes to be put away. The back room where the food, cleaning supply closest, and other thing like extra napkins and to go boxes were. Before leaning you back to the front to show you something you didn't notice at first glance. A small open space in the wall leading from behind the cash register to the kitchen and right next to it was a small bell.

"After you bring us an order the food will be placed here and the bell will be rung to let you know to take it. When a table's done eating just bring the dishes to the back for us to take care of."

"Us?," you asked blinking and Barbara nodded.

"Yep! I work here with my son. He's my dishwasher, stock storer, and delivery boy. You just haven't met him yet because he's out making a couple deliveries." She then pointed towards the front of the cafe. "I do the cooking and making sure we're kept up in stock. The duties you'll be in charge of is just making sure the customers are happy getting their food, cleaning tables, and manning the front here. But there's a few rules I have to go over with you." You nodded. Of course. All businesses had dos and don'ts and rules. "Number one, if anyone tries ordering an alcoholic drink you always, ALWAYS check their IDs first and foremost. I don't care how old they look or who they are. If you don't see a number over twenty one on that card then it ain't happening, and I have a rule only two alcoholic drinks per a customer. If they don't like that then they can take their business somewhere else." Ok. That was actually responsible. "Number two, the only one who counts the money at the end of the day is me and only me. My register automatically counts every transaction and calculates how much money should be in there at the end of the day. So I always know if someone tries to sneak any money from it." Ok. Out of the blue but still understandable. "And lastly, I have a three strike rule. I'm pretty understanding if you're late sometimes or you break a plate on accident because things happen, but I also have a limit. You get three strikes and you're fired. I run a tight schedule around here and I'm no push over. Understand all that?"

Ok. Well that sounded pretty reasonable to you. So you nodded yes to her.

"Good. You start first thing Friday morning. Make sure you're here bright and early."

You again nodded. Looks like things were finally starting to look up for you.

-SMALL TIME SKIP-

Well, you were finally back at the gym. After talking a little more to Barbara, you still had a couple hours to kill so you took the opportunity to walk a little more around town and familiarize yourself with your new town. Finding a few other small businesses, a small park, and a lot of other houses you weren't able to see before for the brief time you were here last year. Of course there was a considerable amount of houses with 'For Sale' or 'For Rent' signs hanging up in their windows but you expected that from what Piers had told you. Entering one random thrift store you were able to see the time thanks to a clock on their wall and made it back to the gym in time to find Piers and Marnie gone and some Team Yell grunts around cleaning up after the day was getting to a close. One being Ruby who after greeting you motioned for you to follow her which you did. Surprisingly the place she lead you was just up the street from the gym itself. The house a generic two story building on the outside and when you were let in, the inside was genuinely like any other house. Actually it looked a lot like Mrs. L's house. Generic furniture matching the specific room they were in. Example being the living room having a television and a few chairs on a white rug. Ruby naming the rooms pointing as them as you passed them.

"-and in there's the kitchen. Your room will be upstairs on the second floor and you'll be sharing space with me and Pearl."

"Pearl?"

She nodded. "She's our other room mate but she's not here right now because she usually works the late shifts at her job. But you'll probably meet her tomorrow since it's her day off. Follow me." You followed her into the living room where she went over to a small table with one or two drawers. Going over to it, she reached into one drawer, and a moment later pulled out a piece of paper before turning around and holding it out to you. "Here. It's the leasing contract. It has all the rules and stuff. You'll have to sign it."

You took it from her and began reading it. It looked like an official legal document. Stating the typical rules involving any damages caused by tenants and liabilites.

"I have a few rules of my own since I do own the house," Ruby continued as you read over the paper. "I don't mind if you have people over but I'd like a heads up first and strangers can't stay overnight without my say so. Same with your pokemon. I don't mind if you let them run around but any damages they cause is coming out of your deposit." Ok. Makes sense so far. "Speaking of which. The room just itself is a hundred fifty but you'll also be contributing for water, electric, and wifi so I'll expect two hundred fifty each month. If you can't make payments for any reason you better let me know so we can work something out." Again, fair enough, and that's still a good price. "But..that's also where the problem lies."

At this you blinked looking up at her, her expression more serious. "Problem?"

She nodded. "You see when Pearl started renting I had her give me a seven hundred dollars for a security deposit, but from what Piers told me you didn't have that kind of money to just hand me. So usually I would refuse until I can get that....Buut. Since my boss spoke really highly of you and I trust his judgement, I'm willing to work something out. He has a good judgement of character."

You ..blinked. "He...did?"

Ruby nodded again. "But that doesn't mean I won't let you off that easily either. He said you were a hard worker so here's what I thought up. You won't have to pay the two fifty this month or next month." You nearly sighed in relief. "Instead you'll pay four hundred this month and three hundred the next." You felt your eyes widen and your hand nearly dropped the paper. "I'm not finished." She said seeing your expression. "That'll pay for your deposit, then when the second month's over we can start you on the regular payment. But in exchange for not charging the regular rent with the deposit costs, you'll be helping me out and doing chores around here for me for those two months. Does that sound fair to you?"

.....Actually that did. Because it was almost the same situation with Mrs. L only a little more expensive. Oi vey you'd be having to save up a bit more.

You nodded. "Y-Yeah. That sounds great!"

Ruby smiled. "Well then when you're finished reading the paper you can sign it and we can get you settled in."

You did sign the paper after rereading it carefully and finding nothing wrong with it smiling before Ruby took it from you and made you follow her upstairs where she continued to list off a few more rules of hers.

"You're welcome to the kitchen but everyone washes their own dishes and cleans their own messes. That also applies for any other messes you make around the house. But I have one very, VERY important rule." She stressed. "Everyone supplies their own stuff. Room furniture, hygiene products, food- You get the picture. And everyone stays OUT of the other's rooms. As long as you don't give me any reasons to search then we won't have a problem. Your stuff is yours. Our stuff is ours. Respect each others' privacy and boundaries."

"That's not a problem!," you confirmed and she nodded.

"Good. Then we're going to get along just fine then." She stopped in front of a door and out of her pocket she pulled out a key. "Here. Your own bathroom is through the door on the left inside." You reached for it but paused when she pulled away slight with a raised brow. "Don't lose your key. I have a spare if you need it but I can't replace it if you keep losing it." you nodded and she dropped it in your hand. "Oh. One more thing. You'll have to renew your lease at the end of the year if you want to continue living here next year too. You won't have to renew the deposit either if you don't cause any damages."

You again nodded and thanked Ruby for everything. Eventually her taking her leave letting you unlock the door with your new room key and opening the door to a...completely empty room. ...Well she did say you supplied your own furniture which was fair enough, and it's not like you weren't used to a sleeping bag by now anyhow. Closing the door you sighed looking around the empty place. ..Well. Wasn't too different from your old basement room, just less like Postwick. And of course without anyone you recognized...Hey. That's right. You hadn't let Silver back out of his pokeball yet. Oh crap! He was gonna be a little cranky but hey. You'd feel better with a familiar face lying around. Smiling you took your pack off and placed it on the floor. Opening it and rummaging around until your hands found a pokemon ball. With a smile and a small toss of your hand, the ball opened, and a bright flash of white light appeared letting a pokemon out...Only...It wasn't the one you expected. Instead of a shiny greyish water type pokemon instead someone in a flash of white and pink and spikey looking appeared. And a sound that you could only describe as something between a raccoon and dog growl sounded out. Your smile dropped. And you were staring at something that was absolutely not Silver. ...But a zigzagoon. A SHINY GALARIAN zigzagoon to be more precise. The small creature yawned in a downward dog style stretching out it's body as if it had just awoken from a nap before shaking it's head and blinking.

....What the-

THIS WASN'T YOUR POKEMON!! You dropped the current pokemon ball you were holding in shock just staring at the thing. Before you suddenly moved. Hands shoving themselves back into the bad and moving things only to discover five other poke balls. And your eyes widened again. .....Ok. ONE of these was clearly Silver and he was yours. But where in the heck did the other five come from!? Did Gloria sneak them into your bag as a going away present of her own like she gave Hop and her other rivals? But why didn't she tell you then? You were about to seriously go right up to Ruby and ask to borrow a phone to confront her. When a sudden thought struck you. One from last year. With a poke poacher and small pokemon in cages. And someone accidentally delivering you shinies in your coat and with nothing else to do with them at the moment, put them in pokeballs and away to keep them safe and hidden....At least until now. You slowly looked over wide eyed to the panting zigzagoon who tilted it's head at you.

".......Uh oh."

#pokemon sword and shield #pokemon shield #pokemon sword #pokemon swsh #love doesn't do encores #reader x piers #pokemon piers x reader #pokemon piers #piers x reader

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seas-of-silver · 1 year

Text

I was making cookies the other whenever and saw this on the box...

...and so I had to drabble something, didn't I? XD

Adrien was barely containing his excitement as he walked with Nino up and down the aisles of the supermarket. Adrien had never been to one, and when, on a rare afternoon free to spend as he wished, he asked Nino if they could hang out after school and his best mate said he needed to do groceries, Adrien excitedly exclaimed that he would love to go grocery shopping. Nino was bewildered at Adrien bouncing on the balls of his feet, but Adrien didn't mind - his father never let him go before, so this mundane task was thrilling and new to him. When Nino heard that, he was all for Adrien joining him - he even let Adrien push the trolley! Who knew trolleys seemed to have wonky wheels that demanded they go in strange directions? They even have baby seats built into them - how cute! When he had his own kids, he was definitely going to bring them to the supermarket! Nino thankfully walked slowly up and down the aisles as Adrien marvelled at the different products and their packaging and how there were specials and deals for things that Adrien had no clue about but wanted to buy - Nino had to stop him from putting things into the basket several times over. Adrien was most curious at the packet cakes and cookies with their premixed dry ingredients to make the baked goods at home; he had never realised they were a thing that existed. "Yeah, before we found out about Marinette's bakery, this is what we always used to get," said Nino, picking up a box of Betty Crocker Chocolate Chip Cookie mix. "Mum, Chris and I are suckers for cookies, so we made these all the time, and they were easy to make, too." Adrien loved getting insight into his friends lives, but when Nino turned the box over, something caught his eye. "What is it?" Nino asked as Adrien took the box from his hands. "It claims that this mix has been 'loved by bakers since 1921'," Adrien said before turning to Nino with a grin. "Can we test that?" "Huh? You wanna give these cookies to Mr Dupain?" "No, bro, to Marinette," Adrien corrected, looking at the box with a fond smile, "I want make these cookies for Marinette and see if they get her approval." "So you want to impress Marinette?" Nino asked, before adding on, "With the cookies?" Adrien nodded absentmindedly, his mind half-dreaming of her reaction to the cookies. "She's always so amazing and making things for everyone, and I want to make something for her, you know?" He pulled his gaze away from the box to look at Nino, who was smiling at him as though Adrien had finally come to the conclusion Nino had been patiently waiting for - what that conclusion was, Adrien had no idea. "Okay, bro, put it in the cart. I'll help you make cookies for Marinette."

I'm imagining that Marinette finds out the claim Adrien was testing, and says something along the lines of "I love these cookies because you made them for me, Adrien." and Adrien is just beaming

#adrien and nino doing grocery shopping is something i need more of in my life #inspired by Betty Crocker cookies #because why wouldn't you be inspired by Betty Crocker cookies?#adrien 100% wants to impress marinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #adrienette #nino lahiffe #baking #seasofsilver drabbles #pre-reveal pre-relationship #miraculous ladybug #ml #fluff

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wafflebloggies · 1 year

Text

8. familiar spirits

back - next Mark had managed to get a surprisingly long way, considering. Antonio tracked him down without difficulty, starting from the empty cell like the good bloodhound he was, picking up and following the staggering trail of footprints in the dust. He could have guessed that Mark wasn’t having a particularly easy time of it even if he hadn’t seen him on the screen, just going from the wonky meandering of the prints. There were places where they slipped, blurred, and turned into a dragging line, places where the floor buckled and became ripped up and impassable or fell away altogether and the trail turned, driven from the straight path down some dark hairpin corner. Antonio guessed that some of these wild changes of direction were deliberate, an attempt to throw off pursuit. If Mark had been awake enough to play dead, so to speak, he was certainly awake enough to try to hide.

Maybe, but it would be a chilly day in hell before Mark could hide from Antonio. Rounding a turn in a long twisting hallway where the grey walls were blotched with outbreaks of weird clammy verdigris, yellow and blue, Antonio spotted the slow shadow feeling its way forwards and jogged to catch up.

“Mark! Wow, you got me good back there. We should get you an Oscar, because that was quite the performance! I actually thought you’d checked out… hey, quick question, where do you think you’re going?”

He felt he’d couched the query nicely in friendly banter, but Mark didn’t seem to think so. At the sound of Antonio’s voice, he lurched so violently that he almost fell- which he looked to have done multiple times already judging from the state of his palms and his knees- but kept right on going without a sound. Pipes ran in a tangle along the wall, bursting from the splotchy plaster like roots clustering from under the surface, and Mark gripped them like a desperate koala, guiding himself hand-over-hand.

“Cool,” said Antonio, after an appropriate pause, “we’re going with the non-answer thing, awesome… You know, this isn’t the greatest place for you to be wandering around? It’s not exactly Coral Drive-”

“Fuck you,” croaked Mark. His hold slipped on the slimy pipes and he nearly fell again. He caught himself, heaved a few hectic breaths, then found the wall again with his hands and staggered another few yards.

Antonio, keeping pace at an easy amble, shoofed Mark’s backpack off his shoulder and pulled out the Tupperware. “Hey, hey, look, Mrs. Hernandez made these for us. She said- listen to this, Mark- she said that nothing makes-”

Mark slapped at the Tupperware as it got too close, knocking it out of Antonio’s hands. It rolled away into the dark, a bright cheery circle of orange bumping over the mouldy tiles.

“Hey, now-”

“What do you want? What do you want?” Mark hauled himself up, nothing but wild eyes under a curtain of dirty hair and bared teeth that clenched and chattered even as he tried to speak, shaking in every nerve. His knuckles were raw and bleeding, a tired rusty-brown color, like old brake fluid. “What else- what else- could you possibly want out of me?!”

“Really, I just want to talk-”

As Antonio reached out. Mark lurched back and slipped, hitting the wall hard with his shoulders, driving the breath out of himself in a sharp gasp and buckling at the knees. He started to cough, breathlessly, sliding down the wall.

“Oh, boy. Okay, so, I know this is kind of out of left field,” said Antonio, in his best Reasonable voice, pleasant and concerned, over the noise of Mark struggling for air. “I get that, really I do. Honestly, it’s weird for me, too, but just hear me out, okay? Hey- look, I wasn’t kidding, I brought cookies-”

“Fuck you,” Mark yelled, or tried to, hampered by the fact that he’d effectively winded himself and could only get out about half a sentence at a time. “What, are you- going to force me to eat that shit like- that fucking soup? You think-”

“Just breathe, Mark, try to hold it-”

“-you think I- give a shit any more? About anything else- you could do to me?”

Antonio rubbed his nose, knuckled his forehead for a moment, let out a patient little sigh. Turn the topic whatever way he might, there really wasn’t any nice way to say this.

“Okay, Mark? Reality check. If you stay out here too long, something’s probably going to kill you.”

“GOOD,” screamed Mark.

It was a singular scream, all of the violence and volume of it compacted and crushed down into a force that escaped him in one furious wrench, throttled and wadded up like a fist. He curled over with the effort of it, and started to cough again, this time a harsh, deep noise that had liquid in it.

Antonio stood quietly and watched him, watched him cough and hack into his hands and eventually spit a mouthful of stuff that was partly black and partly the colour of melted Tootsie rolls, watched him choke and gasp and wipe his face and slowly, finally, resume his arduous journey down the hallway.

He watched, for the most part, because he didn’t know what else to do. He felt the exact opposite of how the new Mark had looked on the camera feed; lost, waiting for nothing, without a script or a single idea what to do or what was supposed to happen next. And all the while, the familiar feeling of Mark-being-Difficult was poking him, needling him, biting pushy little holes in his self-control, telling him that it didn’t matter if Mark wanted to listen to him, that it didn’t matter what Mark wanted at all because Antonio was the one in control, bigger, quicker, stronger.

And he could control this situation. A thing made to control, meant to wrangle and herd and manage, he felt his purpose yanking him, pushing him from inside, itching, gnawing at him to act. Strange, then, that he felt this helpless, keenly aware for the first time that he had no leverage now, not where it counted. That the thing that was Mark, the frail light that lived in the sickened and compromised shell that was still working its way with mortal difficulty along the wall away from him, could refuse to listen and refuse to do what Antonio wanted, whether it was for his own good or not, right up to the point that…

Mark turned the corner, stumbled out of sight.

Antonio looked around for the Tupperware, spotted it several yards back the way he’d come, a bright little shape rolled all the way into a corner. He walked back for it, slowly, scooped it up out of the dirt. It was weirdly hard to think, to feel his way through the agitated snarl of loose ends in his head.

Everything he’d done- everything- he’d known it was right and good and okay because it was what the Muse wanted, what Mother wanted. By the rules of such a simple metric, everything was wonderfully clear, and no greater reason had ever existed in Antonio’s universe. Beyond, everything was murky and senseless, a great unknown, a place where he was blind.

He closed his human eyes, and opened his real ones just a tiny fraction of the way, let in the brilliant glow all around him, the warmth and the light. He let it in until it started to hurt and then stopped, waiting, wanting the reassurance, the end of all struggle and debate, the calm state of grace that had always been waiting whenever he’d wanted it, needed it. It wasn’t there. Like a missing note that threw out the whole orchestra, like a colour out of place or the shards of a broken china horse, something grated and jarred and left him wanting, unsatisfied, with his insides twisting in discomfort, listening to the screaming.

It was getting pretty loud.

Antonio blinked- both sets of eyes- came out of himself with a shake- and realised that the screaming was an actual, real-world noise that wasn’t going away. It was coming from down the hallway, echoey and frantic, and it sounded a lot like Mark.

–

Marble eyes glowed, white in the dark.

The dogs paced slowly down the hall. They were getting bored with this chase, this peculiar prey that couldn’t even run from them properly. Hungry drool strung and spattered on the tiles between things full of claws that were not paws, quiet rising growls and short snaps from things full of teeth that were not faces. The first of them was a thing with far too many eyes and a long clublike snout, a packed circular saw of a mouth in the wrong place and a dark dripping void yawning underneath in the fold of its long neck, packed with tight quick-twitching joints like a crab. It didn’t hurry, as the others closed in around it, following its lead. It seemed to sense it didn’t have to.

Mark fell hard, rolled, scrabbled backwards on his elbows and heels, away from the slow gritty click of advancing claws. He twisted and tried to stand, made it halfway to his feet before a thing with one identifiable eye the size of a fist and a quantity of wet oil-black fur gave a short butting leap and knocked him down, snapping at him with serrated teeth. He screamed and kicked at it, and a third pounced in and seized his leg, worried it like a rat. It seemed to enjoy his frantic efforts to shake it off, the novelty of a chew-toy that fought back.

The first dog crouched. It ground out a low, venomous snarl that rose in a gauzy film of hot stinking breath and rumbled from both mouths, with a writhing contraction of the sinew in its too-long face as ripples of wadded flesh drew back from its teeth, a nightmare of yellow and black and liverish grey. The half-a-dozen indistinct things it had instead of legs bunched, readying for a spring.

It leapt, and Mark let out a final terrified scream and shielded his face with his arms, and Antonio skidded around the corner and ploughed headlong into the pack like they were ninepins set up for a perfect strike, sending them scattering, meeting the first dog right at the top of its spring in a vicious underarm blow that cartwheeled it in the air with a single shocked yip.

“Bad doggos,” said Antonio. His voice was steel-cold and deadly as he pointed a firm finger at the startled pack. “No. Not for you.”

The dogs halted, unsure of this new development. Little white points of fire blinked in the shadows, barks and yelps and weirder, far less canine sounds of resentment and hunger ran through the pack as the first dog struggled up and growled with both of its throats and all of its teeth, fixing Antonio with several unfriendly eyes.

With one eye on the circling dogs, Antonio unzipped the backpack and ferreted inside until he found Mark’s glasses. He passed them back to Mark, who flinched from them before he realised what they were, snatched them and fumbled them onto his face. He looked past Antonio’s legs, got his first clear and properly-focused view of the dogs in all of their horrendous detail, and screamed again.

As if the noise was an invitation, the dog that had knocked Mark down made a sharp feint, skittered past Antonio as he grabbed for it, and lunged for Mark’s throat. Antonio snatched it back by the scruff of the neck and tossed it into the wall with enough force to send a rain of plaster flurrying down in a fine grey mist, and as it crumpled he caught the first dog in the act of leaping again. Balling a fist as he swung, he hit it with his entire strength, punched it dead in the middle of the thing it had instead of a snout, right in the gaping cluster of shark-teeth between the two biggest clumps of eyes.

The thing’s head exploded with a cracking squelch, popping like a rotten melon slammed in a door. An arterial gout of black goop sprayed out in a wide crime-scene splatter, a trajectory that included Antonio’s arm, his shoulder, Mark’s face, the wall behind them. As the dog’s twitching body collapsed Antonio turned on the rest of the pack and snarled with every single one of his real teeth, inky clots of the first dog’s face sliding stickily from his hand as he held it up in a clear warning.

“Hey! I said, NO.”

The rest of the dogs fell back. Robbed of their leader, and facing an unexpected obstacle with a left hook like a sledgehammer and more sharp canines than even they had possibly ever seen, the general feeling was that this game suddenly didn’t seem all that fun, or quite so much like an easy lunch. The one with a single oversized eye made a half-hearted dodge at Antonio’s feet, only to scuffle away as he started walking forwards, closing the distance rapidly with an even, unstoppable menace in every step. It was the first to break, to turn and lope off, and the others rapidly lost their nerve and scurried after it with an assortment of thwarted snaps and whines.

When he was completely sure the pack was gone, Antonio turned, letting out a deep, frazzled sigh of relief he hadn’t even been aware he was holding. Mark was sitting up, more or less, breathing like he’d just run a sixty-meter sprint, leaning against the wall for support as he spat and wiped goop from his face.

Antonio sat down next to him. After a pause, there was a rustle as he felt in Mark’s backpack, a plasticky punk and a waft of sweet cinnamon-sugary air as he popped the top of the Tupperware. He held out the container, shook it a little, invitingly.

Without looking at him- without really looking at anything- Mark took a cookie, bit into it numbly.

Antonio selected a cookie for himself, looked at it thoughtfully. There were deep grooves in his wrist and arm from the dog’s teeth, which crept together and closed slowly as he watched, the healing patches turning from glistening black to fresh new pink.

“I think this is all getting just a tiny smidgen of a bit out of hand,” he said.

Mark, who had stopped chewing, swallowed with some difficulty.

“I think I just lost a tooth,” he said, thickly.

A short silence.

“Oh, Mark,” sighed Antonio, gently. “You really are just kinda going through it, huh?”

Mark stared at him in complete astonishment, then dropped his head back against the wall with a thunk and started to laugh. It was an exhausted sound and it didn’t last very long, shifting fairly quickly into something else that definitely was not laughter.

He buried his head in his hands, and for a while the only sounds were his dry, half-hysterical weeping, and the polite scrunching noises of Antonio trying to eat a cookie as quietly as possible.

#muse arg #dftm #don't feed the muse #mark mayhew #antonio geist #alex bale #the cynical critic #my writing #body horror #violence #animal death #sort of

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datastate · 8 months

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Hi I'm the Mr. Chidouin being manipulative to Kai who's projecting anon, hopefully there aren't others so you understand which ask I'm referring to. Idk if one of your last posts was referring to me but in case it was I'm sorry, I didn't notice and didn't mean to just "remix" what you were already saying, I thought I was adding something of my own-ish but I probably missed some of your posts :(

Sorry again and sorry for the likely wonky English too but it's 3:15 am and I'm a bit sleepy so I just hope what I'm saying is understandable

I'm sorry, I didn't read what you posted next and assumed I did something bad 😭 There's no rush in replying to any of my asks ofc don't worry I'm sorry if it came across like that I'm just terrible at expressing myself Have a great whatever your time is where you are :D

hi!! no worries abt it; i know there was likely no ill-intent with you or anyone else who has done this in the past (except for. a couple hk fans but OTL neither here nor there), and it's only natural to be inspired by other headcanons/meta you've seen floating around -- it's how a sort of 'fan community' works! it's one of the things i greatly appreciate abt spaces like these, too.

in particular, i just get very wary when it's repurposed to specifically be a case of 'why is no one talking about this' / 'i'm the first one to talk about this' (& adjacent types of 'presentation') when... hey. i can see this person is following me while i have been speaking about [headcanon/meta]. on occasion, i do reach out to rb the post itself w a rehashing of my thoughts in case the other person's too scared to initiate conversation and does genuinely want to engage in it - i just haven't had the energy as of late to initiate conversations as long as i typically enjoy... (º □ º l|l)

as for yourself, though i know you've realized it wasn't abt you (or really. anyone. it's just a disheartening pattern i've recognized;;), don't worry! especially as you are the one who's been sending in asks to have that little back/forth, i truly appreciate it!!

&. i also struggle with tone, so i apologize if the original post came across accusatorily/angrily as that wasn't my intention at all!! - i don't hold any grudge at all against people who do this, and i realize it's something that is oftentimes unintentional! like i said, it just makes me sad because it halts that sort of engaging conversation/discussion you can have with other people :'] rather it's through asks or rbs, or even through discord messages, i really do love getting the chance to share/hear out ideas. there's no need for this to be solitary, and it honestly shouldn't be!

i know in my experience, there are some people who've definitely thought more about characters than i've ever considered - such as keiji, where miles'/atlas-of-galaxies' interpretation of him has now influenced my view of his character for the better and on a deeper level than i previously gave him credit for. or even anzu! i'm sure everyone's seen hazard's/corvidcrown's extensive headcanons for anzu that still manage to fall in line with how she acts in-game and keeps the information we were given in ch3's introduction (staring at nankidai forgetting he wrote it so anzu. made her outfit) & it's really inspiring and i love talking to him about her because it always presents so many new ways to handle her character!! even kanna - someone who i consider myself to think a lot about - one of my other friends (jaws/jawzxcm) recently wrote kanna and touched on specifically how/why her insecurities aligned with her desire to 'prove' herself worthy as someone to be cared about (in kindness (which kugie points out begins to feel like she's a doormat), & in usefulness (as seen in the main death game)). it's hard to keep it concise, but there was much more discussion behind each of these that made me go like 'holy shit! that's such a cool interpretation' (it has fundamentally changed my view of the character)

these are all characters that i also dig into, but it's typically through their dynamics with other characters that i spend more time thinking about - which means i don't often get the chance to truly mull over every little detail. but getting the chance to hear from others who have... it's really heart-warming and eye-opening! i always enjoy getting the chance to share that and find realizations/new ways of reading their character arcs that i wouldn't have previously done on my own.

#I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE... MY APOLOGIES FOR GOING OFF ON A SPIEL i just tend to. over-clarify. but :'D #tl;dr you don't need to worry! i'm not mad or anything in the first place; & you're taking the time to try to interact which i appreciate #ask #anonymous

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narukoibito · 2 years

Note

hey, for the fic ask game, I would love to hear more about your experience in fandoms, but I'm sticking with asks 3 and 44 for now.

Thank you for the ask, @fairsquare16! Ohh, happy to answer you re: fandoms if you would like to send more asks, but feel free to message me if you'd like to talk any time! If I haven't responded to a DM in more than a day, it's not you. Please send me another ask letting me know you DM'ed me (Tumblr messenger is really wonky for me).

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

YES. Absolutely. Probably all the stories I have read have in one way or another inspired me, whether it was through agreement or disagreement, in helping me realize my personal characterizations on top of canon.

Without question, @annerbhp's work inspired me to write what I do. The Changeling and the Armistice series have really helped me better understand Harry and Ginny in many ways, even though I have never written a Slytherin Ginny. Annerb has such a gift for going into themes, trauma, world-building (I have never thought about who gets to wield a wand before), and limited POV.

in my head we do everything right in particular inspired the way I write smut, with the thought to writing it for a reason rather than as simply smut for the sake of smut scenes. This kind of emotional / purposeful smut made writing Unravel Me so enjoyable even though it was my first time as a smut writer.

@gryffindormischief and @fightfortherightsofhouseelves both inspired me to write Muggle AUs! It was never something I had thought about until their wonderful works.

44. Rant about something writing related.

I'll write about why I'm more an alternate universe writer than a canon writer. I once saw someone say that canon writers are seen as less imaginative as AU writers, which had never been anything that occurred to me. If anything, I find the pressure of writing canon far too great, making sure it fits exactly with what exists in the books. Even with AU, I often spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about whether this makes sense or not in the constructs of this AU.

Basically, I am too much of a perfectionist and don't have the confidence that I'll get it just right. I tip my hat to canon writers who can write pieces that do not feel like a rewrite of canon, but really add such amazing insights and perspectives to these moments we miss and the characters we love.

I really do love the liberty with AUs, imagining the characters I love in all sorts of interesting scenarios. People have asked (Mr. Naru included) me why I don't just take those ideas and write original fiction. Some have said Harry Potter without magic isn't Harry Potter.

I get where people are coming from, but my goal with AUs/fanfiction isn't to have a publishable original story. It feels disingenuous to write a story based on another author's characters and then just change the names and say this is mine. These ideas are often inspired by a love of the original work and the characters, and part of fanfiction for me is to continue to indulge and enjoy this work with others, and it's such a delight when others enjoy the same characters with me.

Philosophically, it's interesting to consider whether Harry Potter without magic is the same character, but just like I don't think his trauma defines who he is, nor do I think him happening to be able to use a wand defines who he is. But that's just my opinion. And I've always been way more interested in the characters (Ron's humor, Hermione's loyalty, Harry's reckless bravery) than the magical world.

Wow, rambled a lot. If you stayed with me all the way through that, I'd be super curious about what you think!

Feel free to ask me more Fic Writer Ask Game!

#ask games #about me #annerb #gryffindormischief #fightfortherightsofhouseelves #harry/ginny #hinny #fairsquare16 #thank you for the ask!#really got me thinking!

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set-phasers-to-whump · 2 years

Text

enough is enough

prompt: knees buckling

whumpee: john reese

fandom: person of interest

hi here's my second poi fic! i'm still only in s1 so apologies if anything seems wonky, i'm very much just getting to know the show but it's just so fun to write!!! i hope you like it :)

The wound in his side is sluggishly leaking blood, staining the crisp white fabric of his shirt bright red. It pulls uncomfortably with each running stride he takes, but he has no time to slow down to try to fix it.

He’s in hot pursuit of their latest number. For the second time. The first chase had ended not five minutes ago when the number - one Peter Davis - had shot him.

Despite having been shot by him, John doesn’t think that Davis is bad. He’d just gotten involved with the wrong crowd in a desperate attempt to afford cancer treatments for his wife. He owes money he doesn’t have to people who won’t accept that he doesn’t have it. And he’d apparently used some of this money to buy a gun.

He’s scared. John had seen it in his face right before he’d been shot, as he had been trying to explain why he’d grabbed Davis off the street. If he’d kept going in the same direction, he would have been ambushed by the men he owes, probably shot and killed. It’s the middle of the night in a bad part of town. No one would have cared.

But John had barely been able to get a word out before Davis had wriggled out of his grasp, pulled a gun, and shot. While John had been briefly incapacitated, he’d taken off, right towards the danger.

And now John is here, running down the sidewalk with his hand wrapped around the pistol in his pocket, trying to get to Davis before Davis gets to the men who are looking for him.

“Security cameras just caught Mr. Davis three blocks ahead of you,” comes Finch’s voice through his earpiece.

“That SUV still parked in the same place?”

“Yes, it is.”

Davis is rapidly approaching the men who want his money. Very likely he is rapidly approaching his death. John runs faster, all-out sprinting now. He feels the bleeding increase. The pain follows suit. He takes notice of these things, and that’s where their effect on him stops.

“Are you still okay, Mr. Reese?” Finch asks, as John sprints through a crosswalk. He has to be gaining ground on Davis. The man isn’t exactly a professional athlete.

“I’m fine, Finch. Where’s Davis now?”

“Two blocks ahead. He just passed by a bodega.”

He is catching up. But, if he’s done his math correctly, in another three blocks, Davis will run right into the hands - and guns - of the very men John is trying to protect him from.

He sprints even faster, pushing the pain aside. He’d maybe lied to Finch, a little. He is fine at the moment, but Finch thinks he’d only been grazed. The bullet lodged firmly in the middle of his right side would beg to differ.

He catches up to Davis when the man is all of a building’s length away from the intersection with the street where the SUV is parked. He grabs Davis, pulls the gun out of his grip before he can do any more damage with it, and clamps a hand over his mouth before he can make a noise.

“Be quiet,” he hisses, dragging the man backwards. “You know the men who’ve been trying to hunt you down?”

Davis nods. He’s shaking. John removes his hand, and he stays silent.

“They’re just around that corner, waiting for you. So how about you turn around and walk the other way? Get yourself to a hotel, register under a false name. Let me handle this.”

Another nod. John lets him go.

Davis takes all of two steps in the other direction, and then he spins back around and wrenches his gun out of John’s hand. It’s unexpected, and John doesn’t react quickly enough. Davis starts running towards where the men in the SUV lie in wait.

“I’m finishing this!” he shouts. "I've had enough!"

John runs after him and does the only thing he can - he tackles him to the ground. The impact makes the pain in his side flare sharply. The gun goes off. A window shatters.

He gets to his feet quickly, adrenaline quickly replacing the pain. Davis shoots up just as fast, gun still in hand. John draws his own gun. There is no time to run now. Everything is too close.

A car door slams just around the corner.

“Mr. Reese?”

“A little busy at the moment, Finch.”

The men round the corner, guns out, and John starts shooting. Davis joins him. He’s a surprisingly good shot for a man who has apparently never handled a gun before this week.

The other men return fire. One of them has a machine gun. John takes him out as quickly as he can. Bullets spray the sidewalk around him, kicking up sparks.

Davis takes out two men in rapid succession before taking a bullet to the shoulder. John sees him hit the ground just as he hits the final gunman straight between the eyes.

The silence is deafening. Smoke rises from the bodies, illuminated by a single streetlight. They need to get out of here. A shooting of this magnitude will have the place crawling with police in less than fifteen minutes.

“Mr. Reese.” Finch’s voice breaks the silence, insistent and loud.

“We’re okay, Finch. Davis took a shot to the shoulder, but he’s alright.”

“You’d better get out of there. There have been three 911 calls already.”

“I’m sure there have been. What’s the best route?”

Finch tells him. John mentally notes all of the information as he walks towards Davis, who is slowly getting to his feet with a hand pressed to the bleeding wound at the top of his shoulder.

This reminds John of his own injury. The adrenaline of the fight had masked it almost completely, but once he remembers that he’d been hurt, the pain returns at full force. John bites back a wince and looks down. The amount of blood on his clothes is surprising. So is the sudden, overwhelming dizziness that accompanies it.

“Hey, Finch?”

“Yes, Mr. Reese?”

“I think I might be…in a little bit of trouble.”

His knees buckle beneath him, and he hits the ground hard. He’s unconscious before he has time to hear Finch’s response.

He wakes up in a bed. It’s not a bed he knows. The room around him is dark, lit only by moonlight coming in through a single window. It smells like antiseptic. His side is throbbing. His throat is sore.

He looks around as his eyes adjust to the darkness. He seems to be in a bedroom. It’s sparsely furnished, with a table beside him and a dresser on the opposite wall and a bookshelf in the corner. Based on the noises coming from beyond the window, he’s still in the city. The smell suggests medicine, though this is clearly not anything close to a hospital.

But he can feel fresh stitches pulling his skin together beneath the blanket. There’s a pad of gauze taped to his arm where an IV would have been. The work of one of Finch’s many acquaintances, he guesses. Very possibly, he’s in someone’s house.

He wants to get up, explore his surroundings, find a weapon, but sleep takes him back under before he can even fully sit up.

He wakes up a second time, still in the same bed. It’s light now, and the pain is more insistent. He reorients himself, remembers waking earlier. He wonders for a second about the absence of drugs in his system.

The door opens. He sits up in a flash, looking around for something to use as a weapon. He grabs a book off of the table next to him and aims.

It’s only Finch. John drops the book and leans back against the pillows, his side hurting even more now. Luckily, he doesn’t feel anything bleeding.

“Be careful, Mr. Reese. You wouldn’t want to tear your stitches.”

“Where are we?”

Finch shakes his head. “All in good time, Mr. Reese. You’re safe, which is all you really need to know for now.”

About the answer he’d expected. “How’s Davis?”

“He’s fine. The bullet only grazed him. Unlike you. You lied to me, Mr. Reese.”

“Right, and neither one of us has ever done that before.”

Finch looks at him severely. “You told me, repeatedly, might I add, that you were fine. Collapsing unconscious in the middle of the street is decidedly not fine.”

There’s no good defense against that one, or at least none that John can think of. He’s tired again, which seems impossible. He forces his eyes to stay open, forces himself to speak.

“Sorry,” is all he can think to say. He doesn’t say, I won’t do it again, because they both know that he can’t make a promise like that. He doesn’t say, it could’ve been worse, because there’s no point in bringing up something they both understand.

“I know, Mr. Reese. Now get some more rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

John stops fighting off the exhaustion. He falls back asleep before Finch even turns off the light.

thanks for reading! this was def not the best but it wasn't the worst either so i'm fine with that lol. i am so tired for literally no reason ughhh. anyways though i hope you liked this!! see you tomorrow <3

#whumptober2022 #no.19 #knees buckling #person of interest #fic #john reese #shot #collapse #medical #i say things #my writing

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astroboyanalysis · 4 months

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2. The Hot Dog Corps

I've always thought this was one of many Astro Boy stories that would lend itself very well to a more serious and adult remake, (a la Pluto) but this one with a distinct horror vibe. You know. On account of the body horror.

Atom (smiling serenely): wow Mr. Tezuka you're getting really angry can we change the subject

Anyway obviously he makes a good point here. Could talk for a while about cultural double standards especially when animals like dogs and cats are involved. But like, this is an explicitly sympathetic story to the dog and animal testing is a thing we do. So I feel like it should have been allowed to show but I do understand different countries have different standards surrounding what is deemed "appropriate" for children to think about and see. America's just very strange in general to be honest.

Wow that's awesome Mr Ban. I do not want to dog sit for you ever btw.

First really funny gag so far imo. You go Kenichi have a dog treat.

Okay this is interesting to me and probably no one else. Tezuka put little gags in like this if he thought it was getting too serious, which is fine and normal - but it's been less than a page since the last gag. People say we have short attention spans now (and we do) but entertainment has basically always vied for your attention and had to constantly jump around and dance and say LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! DON'T LOOK AWAY!

anyway I love you hyoutan-tsugi don't listen to him

Ban confirmed in debt (joking. or am i)

normal way to act yeah. Fuck up this guy's car and probably kill him with fire and then drown him and also steal his dog and be like. Tee hee hee... stupid idiot... hee hee...

Smiling his angelic little smile like "Did you break the law and endanger others mister teacher?"

God hes just so cute. There's gonna be a lot of "ohhhhhhg my god.... ghgh,h,..... oghgh h look a him...." probably. but ohghghghggggg g loook at hi

Excellent use of class time man

Now's probably a great time to mention you'll notice a heavy focus on like school and child development and stuff in my analysis - I'm a student teacher in Elementary! So I think about this kind of thing a lot and it sticks out to me as a result. Anyway.

Great gag. There's some good ones in this story.

Okay because I'm reading it physically but using an online version for images, most online versions stop abruptly right around here so I don't have good pictures. I'm sorry in advance for the wonky pictures I took.

Idk grand duchess it kind of seems like your fault because you decided to kidnap dogs instead of just having someone train them for you at your bigass winter palace or whatever the hell.

I love how evil things are here. You just dont get cartoonishly evil villains nowadays (because I don't watch kids TV all that much I suppose. But also there's a general trend toward movies and shows without cartoonishly evil villains that I've noticed which is interesting. Suits reality a little better since most people won't be like YOU SEE! I'VE DONE IT SO I CAN KILL AND MURDER! MUAHAHAHA! when you ask them about their motivations in doing something.)

HOLY SHIT THERE WERE PEOPLE IN THE SHIP THEY BLEW UP I get that this is the point but I don't think I ever noticed that before lmao.

Oh hes so cute.....

This is strange as their minds are dog minds and therefore they probably shouldn't have robotic movements. A keen observer like Atom should be able to recognize that they're not all that organized when compared with robotic timing.

"Aren't supposed to be able to" just indicates to me that it's a limitation imposed by creators to align themselves with the laws of robotics and avoid getting in trouble, which I would think would also mean people could make robots that can kill and there's really no reason they wouldn't be able to do that. That said it would be very strange for the story if robots really could be used as weapons as easily as they can in real life. But unless you categorize a machine and a robot differently based on their AI and self determination, I would think it is easier for a robot to kill humans as they don't have to take it into account at all if they aren't programmed to.

That said, in the world of Astro Boy, the laws of robotics are absolute and people do not really break them. They just do an insane workaround loophole like. I dunno. Putting dog brains and nervous systems into robot bodies. Shit like that. I suppose if they were laws that could be broken, that would be really interesting though. It would be like something the United Nations has agreed on so a country caught doing something against it would be refused trade and that kind of thing. So they'd have to be sneaky.

I'm getting off topic.

Okay so there are human workers in the fortress, but all the guard members are cyborgs.

(Annoying guy voice) BUT I THOUGHT HE ONLY LISTENED TO BAN!!!!!!

strong contender for funniest panel so far

REALLY good way to show 2 days have passed this is awesome

To be honest it makes sense to me that a traumatic surgery and event like having your nervous system and brain stripped out and put into a new shape and new environment and shit would make you forget most things. Really sad.

actually devastating im not kidding

Ok yea sure. Literally why though. Atom you do it because you're the main character I guess. This is where I really appreciate Pluto's realism in that Atom is used more as a figurehead and symbol of peace than like. a functionally useful substitute for specialized jobs.

Then again because he's recalling where it was in the next panels, it's possible this is more a result of not having functional and immediate satellite imaging at the time this comic was being written, so you would need someone who knew where they were going to lead you there.

This would indicate to me that there is a temperature Atom's circuitry is not able to function at due to it being too low, but Space is colder than this so I think that is not the case (or we can say it's not the case that space is cold in this universe). Anyway it's slightly less horrifying than him potentially being trapped in ice and aware of the passage of time and fully cognizant so I do see why Tezuka did this.

Also he's shapes.

(The rest of this post will be continued in a reblog as you can only have 30 images per post)

#astro boy #mighty atom #tetsuwan atom #completely forgot how LONG hot dog corps is god DAMN that is a long story #i thought it was gonna be a 1 sitting run through but it really was not #I should have split this up by the sub chapters. Oh well!

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songs-about-girls-like-me · 6 months

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chapter 9: an unidentified bug

(Author's note: le puse "Mr. G" a nuestro maestro. I was giggling so much when I came up with that. Also, I will call people "random girl/boy" when they are irrelevant. Ok, cool)

I was highlighting something in my geography textbook to make a "bright sun" (which was a graphic organiser thing) in my notebook during class. Our teacher, Mr. G, the one who had sang and danced at the disco, was obsessed with making us do "original significative sentences" or "bears" by its initials in spanish. It was a friday and the school day was almost over. I was bored and I just wanted it to be 1:30 already. We were told to use our glue stick to make a circle for the center of the sun with red ink pen. I always thought these graphic organizers were ugly as sin, and I wished we could just do mind maps or a normal summary instead. We couldn't even color it in or use different colors and my sunbeams always looked wonky.

The girls sitting with me in my team were: a girl called Queenie who was in jazz with us, Poppy, wearing a side pony with white ribbon in her hair, and another random girl classmate. Random girl and Queenie were part of the girls who teased Poppy about her bra during camp, and all three were friends and were now talking about their friday outing over Mr. G who was still talking about how to do a "Bear". I yawned and got my ruler out to make the sunbeams when Random girl and Queenie started looking secretively at each other, and I noticed they were side eyeing Poppy. I took a glance and I instantly knew. There was something walking on Poppy's perfectly gelled hair. A little insect of some sort, colored in black and some green or yellow. It was a bug I'd never seen before, at least half a centimeter big or even larger. I knew they were probably thinking it was lice, and I supposed it was a fair guess, adding up the fact that we had had "lice season" in school just before the summer holidays. But I wasn't sure, it seemed way too big. And the color made no sense and it was walking over the gelled rock hard hair, not her side bangs or the rest of her fluffy hair. I had had lice when I was in 3rd grade. Well, not lice, just nits or whatever baby lice are called. I knew they sucked but I also knew some hair washes with alcohol would terminate them in a weekend. I thought we should say something to Poppy and even to Mr. G so that she could go to the school nurse, who was the one to check on lice always. The school nurse and I shared first name and was never mean.

"OMG, IT MOVED!" Random girl screamed and I rolled my eyes. "OMG, OMG" Went Queenie. "What?" Poppy was looking nervous. "You have-" I started.

"You have lice!!" Said Random girl. "What??!" Poppy was terrified. She looked like she couldn't even move. The two girls moved back a meter, pushing their chairs away with their feet while still sitting down. "You- there's an insect on your hair, you should-" I really tried, but my classmates screamed and Poppy was stiff as a board and she looked like crying with her eyes closed, gripping her chair tightly as if that would help. I got a bit pissed at her friends cause I knew this could be handled better and they literally were still screaming !!?

So I stood up with all my Hermione-Granger-personality-complex that made me think I was really more capable than my classmates at times and went looking for our teacher. But Random girl stood up too and we both went to look for Mr. G and she talked loudly over me so she got to tell him about the bug however she wanted to. Then Poppy was sent to the school nurse and that was that. But it almost felt like she got “evacuated” from our classroom because of these girls’ behavior. I was annoyed at them because it would’ve been nicer to keep people's lice a bit quiet, specially if they are your friend! And we weren’t even sure if it was actual lice or a random bug! I shook my head in disapproval and rolled my eyes, going back to take a seat to finish my school work.

Then, 20 minutes later, the school day finally finished and we were lining up in the hallway with our schoolbags to head out to the yard. The tiny hallway was always chaos with all the kids from our class (we were around 80 kids), and we all would push each other making the line so messy some people would even fall to the floor. It could be kinda fun. I wasn't Hermione all the Time. Except for when you actually hurt yourself, like, someone stepping on you, or falling with an elbow all the way to the slippery cream-colored tiles, etc. Everyone was chatting really loud, and Ella, Liv and I were no exception. They asked me a bit about Poppy’s bug incident which was the hot topic of the afternoon. I said I thought it could’ve been just an insect and I wasn't sure it was lice. She still wasn't back from the nurse when I looked around, though. My friends agreed that her friends had been quite sucky.

Ella somehow knew today it was Poppy's birthday party and I had to open my eyes big for how much of a pity that was. I felt bad for her.

"Damn" said Liv making a face. We all agreed to that "damn" and then kept talking about a Disney Channel show or started playing fight or something.

"I think I won't go" in the hallway it was easy to overhear people's conversations cause we all were really close.

"Well, obviously! She's got lice. Like-- I wish I could go, Queenie, we just can't. Even if it's her birthday party! No one should go." It also wasn't as if they were trying to keep it quiet.

Queenie was lowkey dumb so I never minded her much, but Random girl seemed a bit too decided on the matter. She didn't necessarily looked happy, but she was too serious. It definitely seemed like she was taking on the opportunity to throw Poppy under the bus and shit-talk her. And she was just always finding ways to try to walk over her.

When my mom picked me and my sisters up later and asked about our days, I started talking about it, speaking about Poppy as "Poppy [Last Name]" cause I had never talked about her before. When I had a full story to tell in the car, I would sit on the edge of the car seat (I always got the middle seat) and would rest my elbows on the back of the front seats to be closer to the driver. Sometimes I even rested my chin on my hands. I don't know why I did that, maybe so I could get everyone's reaction from that point of view. My sisters and my mom thought Random girl was obviously a terrible friend, more like, she even probably hated Poppy [Last Name] and was actively being mean to her. My older sister thought Random girl was jealous cause Poppy [Last Name] was really pretty and boys liked her, unlike her who was not, and was also a bitter envious bitch. She didn't actually say "bitch" though, cause we would never curse in front of my mom. My younger sister would always provide very good reactions like "no! really?" and "omg, she didn't" or even a small gasp or a shake of the head which was always good to have as support while explaining things.

"Yeah! and now... like- She's probably not going to have a birthday party!" I said, my eyebrows raised in a worried look. I think about this and I am reminded of how young I was lol.

"Yes, probably not. Poor Poppy." Said my mom, driving us. "But you can be nice to her, Rees."

I sat back and rested my back on the seat, pulling my schoolbag close to my chest. "Yea" I nodded. The september sun was still very warm and the car air always felt horribly stale with the carpeted surfaces of the car and the day-long-worn school uniforms. I had taken off my brown ballet flats with a flick of my feet. For a second I kept thinking about that party and if anyone would show up, or who had she invited. Or whether Poppy would be sad or angry at the moment. I would try to show up, if I had been invited.

#chapter 9 #chapter nine #unidentified bug

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omniliquid · 9 months

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OmniLiquid's Church of Discordia: Sermon #666

So, I've been thinking, and drinking, and there's a thing that's been on my mind lately, so it's time for one of OmniLiquid's infamous mostly unnoticed rambly drunken rants about the failures of capitalism on a basic fundamental level that will undoubtedly devolve into a profanity-laden enraged scream into the void, but we'll burn that police station when we get to it.

But the topic for today's sermon in this church of Discordia (all hail Discordia, praise Eris) for which I am the most important pope, naturally, is the fundamental meaning of what it means for something to be a social construct. Listen up folks, this is important shit. This is, in essence, at the core of much magic.

I will begin, as I often do, with a thought experiment, and I will borrow the language (and you may use the voice in your internal reading) of Ben Shapiro, because it is funny to me (I am pretty sure Ben is smart enough to not make this argument, so don't attribute it to him, that would be strawmanning. I am taking the most naive and facetious possible take on economics here, and his voice happens to be my first thought, as a mere coincidence).

"Let's say, for the sake of argument, let's say that there are only two countries, and one of those countries, call it America, is amazing and has a bunch of gold in the ground so they can produce 10 trillion dollars worth of gold or, because the gold makes farming harder, they can produce 1 trillion dollars worth of corn. And let's say the only other country, call it South America, has no minerals in their soil but it's great for growing crops so they can produce 10 trillion dollars worth of crops or they can be lazy and produce only 1 trillion dollars of, like, crafts and stuff that gets sold on etsy. Wouldn't it be best if America focused their efforts on gold and produced 10 trillion dollars worth of gold and South America focused their efforts and produced 10 trillion dollars worth of food and they traded 5 trillion of each so both countries had way more than they could have had otherwise?"

And, yes, I am going to very much take down this strawman, but bear with me, because I am not aiming for the strawman. Like Batman, I am going to aim past the scarecrow and pull the wall down on it from behind. Save your questions to the end, folks, I can't hear them until after I post this anyway because that is how time works (maybe make a note of them, though).

So the first obvious question is, hey Mr. Strawman, what happens when something restricts trade, like if there's a blockade by the trade federation, the Evergreen gets stuck in a canal, or orcas declare war on shipping routes? Won't America just starve if all they have is gold and won't South America's food surplus go to waste and wouldn't this trade arrangement be dumb anyway because without Discordian and witchcraft-related crafts on Etsy the market is just a bland deluge of corporate excess? And yes, that is a very good point and that's where you might expect Batman's grapnel shot to connect and your expecting the absolute shock of Batman just straight up shooting the strawman with one o his tools and breaking his first rule, but no, it goes deeper, and the bards among you are overpowered indeed for seeing this coming and keep that up. Because the real question is, who decided that the 10 trillion dollars worth of gold and the 10 trillion dollars worth of food were equivalent (aside from me in coming up with the dumb argument).

Now we start to hit upon the thesis of this sermon: money is a social construct: what does that mean? I will now use another hypothetical. Suppose we only have two currencies, call US dollars and spicybucks. And suppose the exchange rate is a bit wonky so 1 dollar can be traded for 1 spicybuck and vice-versa for a negligible fee (if done in volume) but because of differences in regulations between countries, the work required to create a dollar worth of products in the US costs 0.95 dollars but the cost to create a dollar's worth of goods and ship it to the US in spicyland is 0.94 spicybucks and through the magic of hypotheticals this happens across every industry for every product and every service. What will be the result? This would be a short-circuit of the dollar, and every corporation would either buy all of their products and services in spiceland or they will be outcompeted by those who do, meaning workers in the US will be completely unable to find jobs , unable to buy anything, complete economic collapse, 100% deathrate in the US.

But this is FUCKING RIDICULOUS. Because if Spiceland didn't exist, the US would just create the products and services it needed and distribute them as normal. Spiceland is a kind of destructive spell that drains the economy, somehow. How? Why? We'll get to that. Maybe. Maybe we already did. Maybe we can only describe the features but not the thing itself. Maybe there's an amorphousness to magick and to experience and to everything, maybe the whole issue is that we are trying to get to the cores of things but there are no cores, just wibbly wobbly things. ALL IS LIQUID.

Quick aside, in Final Fantasy Tactics there is a stat called faith, which varies from 0 to 100, representing lore-wise the amount of belief the character has in the gods, but mechanically the effectiveness of any magical ability is multiplied as a percentage by the faith of the performer AND THE RECIEVER of the magick.

So getting back to the point, money is a social construct. It is a system of exchange rates that is agreed upon by some sort of consensus of the people we interact with and we just kind of agree that a loaf of bread is about a dollar and a two liter bottle of off brand soda is about half that and a modest house is about 50 to 100 thousand and a big mac is two but a double cheeseburger is 1 and rent for a studio or a 1-bedroom is about 350 *whispers from non-existent producer*....

...

And wages have gone up by an equal ratio, right?

[insert the Anakin and Pade meme if you aren't as lazy as me]

right?

...

Ok. How's civil unrest looking? High and growing? Goddessfuckingdamnedright it's high and growing, and it needs to be!

Don't people FUCKING GET IT! MONEY IS A FUCKING ILLUSION! GENDER IS A FUCKING ILLUSION! SURE, SEX HAS SOME REAL FUCKING IMPLICATIONS FOR REPRODUCTION BUT THAT ISN'T A FUCKING PROBLEM RIGHT NOW! PEOPLE SAY ELON MUSK HAS ENOUGH MONEY TO END WORLD HUNGER BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER IF HE TRANSFERS A BILLION DOLLARS TO A STARVING KID IN AFRICA'S BANK ACCOUNT THAT DOESN'T DO SHIT IF THE KID CAN'T GET FUCKING FOOD AND PROBABLY MEDICAL ATTENTION!

People act like money is this thing that can transmute itself into anything and it's sure easy to think that when your experience is driving to the store or ordering shit on Amazon with next day shipping, but money is not the philosopher's stone, it is a false stone, it has limitations, and excessive use degrades the soul. What matters is FUCKING MATERIAL CONDITIONS.

I think if you meditate on these truths and consult your pineal gland, you will gain deep knowledge, but I will add a few further remarks to aid in you meditation before expanding further and bringing in today's scripture.

There is no such thing as an illegal strike, only an unsuccessful one.

I don't recall the exact quote or who said it and I wish I could find it, but I saw someone quote it in a post once, and it was to the effect of: "When we go on strike, they will villainize us and lament that it came to such a terrible place, but don't let them fool you. When we go on strike, we are showing them grandmotherly kindness by not showing up on their doorstep with the guillotines at the ready."

Today's scripture comes from Illuminatus, near the beginning of the fourth trip, between Illuminati memo #16 and Illuminati memo #16 (not a typo) (extra-relevent passages (afaik) in pink, and shit that just resonates with me by syncronicity or otherwise in purple):

""They were using Mace now, and I saw one photographer snapping a picture of a cop while the cop was still Macing him (Heisenberg rides again! From out of the west come the thundering hooves of the great hearse, Joint Phenomenon! Except that I was on acid; if I'd been on weed, then it would really, royally, be a Joint Phenomenon). And I heard later that the photographer got an award for that shot. Right then, he didn't look like he was getting an award. He looked like they had just taken off his skin and touched each raw nerve with a dentist's drill. "Christ," I said to Hagbard, "look at that poor bastard. I hope I come out of this with just another teargassing or two. I don't want any of that Mace." But acid is placid, you know, and a minute later I was on Joyce's juices again and thinking of a drama called 'Their Mace and My Gripes." I made the first line fruity, in honor of Padre Pederastia: "What a botch of a pair to plumb this hour's gripes."

"Bism'allah," Hagbard said. "Our karma is made by our deeds, not by our prayers. You're on the set, so you take the action as it comes."

"Oh, cut out that Holy Man craperoo and stop reading

my mind," I protested. "You don't have to go on impressing me." But I was off on another tangent, which went something like this: If this set is Mayor Daley's circus, then Mayor Daley is the ringmaster. If the things below are the things above, as Hermes hermetically hinted, then this set is the bigger set. Mr. Microcosm, meet Mr. Macrocosm. "Hi, Mike!" "Hi, Mac." Conclusion: Mayor Daley, in a small way, is what Krishna is, in a large way. QED.

Just then some SDS kids who'd been teargassed across the street came running our way, and Hagbard got busy handing out wet handkerchiefs. They needed them: they were half-blind, like Joyce splitting his Adam into wise hopes. And I wasn't much help, because I was tod busy crying myself.

"Hagbard," I gasped in ecstasy. "Mayor Daley is Krishna."

"Worse luck for him," he said curtly, distributing the handkerchiefs. "He doesn't suspect it."

I thought, suddenly:

Hubert the Hump has coughed and hawked And spat on the streets that Lincoln walked

The water turned to blood (Hagbard was a joking jolting Jesus: you expected wine maybe?) and I remembered my mother's story about Dillinger at the Biograph. We all sit there, like him, in the Biograph Theatre, dreaming the drama of our lives, then walk outside to the grandmotherly kindness of the lead kisses that wake us back to our slipping beatitude. Except that he found a way to come back. What was it Charley Mordecai said: "First as tragedy, then as farce?" Marxism-Lennonism: Ed Sanders of the Fugs, the night before, talking about fucking in the streets as if he had read my mind (or had I read his?) and Lennon's "Why Don't We Do It in the Road" was recorded a year in the future. The Marx and our groupies. The bloody handkerchiefs dipped into water, or wine, and the mass rite went on, the mass went Right On, the Mace they rowed. Capone set it up for the Feds, but John was fed up and left the set, so an extra named Frank Sullivan got the bullets. The Autobiograph Theatre, a drama house and a trauma, yes. I maybe should have taken only half a

tab instead of the full 500 mikes, because at that point the SDS kids, all of them siding with RYM-I at the split next year, looked like they had altarboy robes on and I thought Hagbard was distributing communion wafers, not handkerchiefs. He looked at me, suddenly, with that hawk-faced Egyptian glare, and I observed that he had observed, Hopalong Horus Heisenberg, just where I was at You don't have to be a waterman, I thought, to know which way my mind is blowing.

There was a sound from the crowd, like a subway opening all its doors with a suck of air, and I saw the police coming, crossing the street to clear the park.

"Here we go again," I said. "All hail Discordia,"

"Snafu ueber alles," Hagbard grinned, starting to trot beside me.

We headed North, figuring that the ones who retreated eastward would get trapped against the wall and creamed. "Democracy in action," I said, panting along.

'There thou might'st behold the very image of Authority," he quoted, shifting his water bucket to keep it in balance. I caught the Shakespearean reference and looked back: my mind had already: each policeman indeed looked like Shakespeare's dog. I remembered the frantic semantics at the LBJ anti-birthday party, when Burroughs insisted Chicago Cops were more like dogs than pigs, in contradiction to the SDS rhetoric. Terry Southern, taking his usual maniacal middle course, claimed they were more akin to the purple-assed mandrill, most surly of the baboon family. But most of them hadn't discovered writing yet.

"Authority?" I asked, realizing I'd lost something along the way. We were slowing to a walk, the action was behind us.

"A is not A," Hagbard explained with that tiresome patience of his. "Once you accept A is A, you're hooked. Literally hooked, addicted to the System."

I caught the references to Aristotle, the old man of the tribe with his unfortunate epistemological paresis, and also to that feisty little lady I always imagine is really the lost Anastasia, but I still didn't grok. "What do you mean?" I asked, grabbing a wet handkerchief as some of the teargas started to drift to our end of the park.

"Chairman Mao didn't say half of it," Hagbard replied

holding a handkerchief to his own face. His words came through muffled: "It isn't only political power that grows out of the barrel of a gun. So does a whole definition of reality. A set. And the action that has to happen on that particular set and on none other."

"Don't be so bloody patronizing," I objected, looking around a corner in time and realizing this was the night I would be Maced. "That's just Marx: the ideology of the ruling class becomes the ideology of the whole society."

"Not the ideology. The Reality." He lowered his handkerchief. "This was a public park until they changed the definition. Now, the guns have changed the Reality. It isn't a public park. There's more than one kind of magic."

"Just like the Enclosure Acts," I said hollowly. "One day the land belonged to the people. The next day it belonged to the landlords."

"And like the Narcotics Acts," he added. "A hundred thousand harmless junkies became criminals overnight, by Act of Congress, in nineteen twenty-seven. Ten years later, in thirty-seven, all the pot-heads in the country became criminals overnight, by Act of Congress. And they really were criminals, when the papers were signed. The guns prove it. Walk away from those guns, waving a joint, and refuse to halt when they tell you. Their Imagination will become your Reality in a second."

And I had my answer to Dad, finally, just as a cop jumped out of the darkness screaming something about freaking motherfucking fag commies and Maced me, as was certain to happen (I knew it as I crumbled in pain) on that set.""

In case you missed it, and I am not throwing shade, I first read this passage in 2003 and somehow missed it because let's be honest, it is a fucking huge shock to the system to realize the importance that a law passed by congress is in physical reality a few soundwaves and scribbles of graphite and ink on some paper and some electronic shit nowadays but it changes the reality of the lives of people far and wide, but the deeper implication of this, that A IS NOT A, that is FUCKING HUGE.

Because here's the thing. In a world without magick, in a world where people don't have conflicting interests or neurodivergences or imperfect communication or a sense of playfulness or all the other shit that makes us lie to each other and encode messages and make up stories and create false narratives, ok, there is a "possible world*" where A would be A, where every dragon would be a dragon, every spade would be a spade, and where every lost person's journey of self discovery would consist of them uttering I am [a short description]. And that world would be bleak and boring and all of the interesting stories about it have been told and it's called The Giver. But that isn't this world. This world has magick, in fact it has a lot of magick, and you see it everywhere, but maybe you don't recognise it as magick because all the fantasy novels have you sold on this idea that magick is wrapped up in this aesthetic of pointy hats and medieval shit and low science and alchemy is a bit more scientific but got superceded by chemistry, etc.

But, no! LET THE RABBITS WEAR GLASSES (I've just had an urge to shout that recently)! MAGICK IS STRONGER THAN EVER AND THE UNIONS PROVE IT! Magick, in some sense, is the ability to distort reality, and to see reality beyond the distortions. And some magicks stretch thin when the presented reality differs so greatly from actual reality as to breed incredulity. And there are a lot of magicks, I'll bring up housing/ret prices, and point ominously towards the idea of land ownership as a concept, are starting to get pretty fucking thin. And when a longstanding spell breaks, that shit cascades. My advice is for all y'all to be prepared to capture that lightning, and don't just bottle it, Goddess knows we got plenty of bottled lightning, chain that fucking shit, channel it towards good and away from destruction as much as possible.

Anyway, I suck at conclusions, but I hope this shit has been informative. Keep fighting the good fight, confuse the enemy, do your things, and make sure to disobey every authority at least once, especially me.

This message is highly conversational. Dictate it to a reporter while exclaiming that you could have deconversationalised it while in office, but you didn't. If they point out that you're still in office, act like you had forgotten and issue a papal edict of your choice.

Praise Eris, All Hail Discordia.

#Discordian Sermon #Actual number 001 #discordianism #illuminatus #anarchism #anti capitalism #drunkposting #long post

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themadvigilantist · 1 year

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"That dress looks really good on you.. do you make all your 'suits' really attractive on purpose?" Jake asked from the floor, looking up at Einzelgänger. He didn't know how long he was stuck in the time loop for, even the little tally marks he used to mark time seemed to be disappearing. (Sorry Jake was inspired by that Natalie Dormer post.)

@isitrecording (just remembered activity is acting wonky)

Einzelgänger turned around in a white dress that hugged enough to be considered businesswear than party wear. Blonde hair flowing down instead of the usual up bun and blue eyes flashing in his question's direction.

"No, appearence in regards to one's internal emotional response was never a factor."

To her, they were just suits. Like shoes or bracelets or canes. They served a purpose, an accomdation.

"You're coming out of the time loop, Mr. Smith. Your true age is going to catch up to you. And yes, I noticed the tally marks." Her voice gave some indication of assuming he had been told this - even though she hadn't told him in the slightest. She walked back towards him, tilting her head slightly.

"Be prepared for rapid alterations of your hair and limbs."

#isitrecording #v: tbd #electra queued #vc: einzelgänger #ic #answered #{eheheheh}

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sapphosthoughtsandwritings · 3 years

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A Relaxing Day Off - Pietro Maximoff x anxious!Reader

Summary: It was your day off, so why were you so anxious? Lucky for you, a certain speedster is set on helping you feel better.

Warnings: talks of food/not wanting to eat; depictions of anxiety

Genre: fluff

Word Count: ~1.7k

A/N: So sorry that I haven't been more active recently! My mental health has been a bit wonky, and as a result I haven't really written much. But I did manage to come up with this little piece, so I hope you all enjoy it! :) || (not my gif)

(I used Google translate for this, so hopefully it is correct?)

Princeza = princess || Draga = dear || Dusica = sweetheart

Your nerves were on edge today, you had no clue why. It’s a Saturday, no one had any missions to go on, and the little work that needed to be done was fairly easy. There was absolutely no reason to be worried. So why were you so worried? Why wouldn’t your heart stop beating erratically? Or your hands stop shaking? It frustrated you to no end, you wanted an answer to these feelings. There never seemed to be an answer though.

You’d been laying in bed for an hour now, just hoping that the rest of the team thought that you were still asleep. You didn’t have the energy to get up. You wanted to get up, to be a normally functioning person, to at least shower and get dressed for the day. But you couldn’t. Not today. You were afraid that just standing up would cause your legs to turn to jelly. The only thing you really could do was scroll through your phone, although reading the news was a death sentence. Everything happening in the world was overwhelming to say the least. Especially when the headline news involved you and your team. You sighed deeply, turning off your phone, knowing it would only make your nerves worse.

Looking at your alarm clock, it read 12:53pm. ‘The team’s gonna wonder why I didn’t come out of my room to eat lunch’, you thought to yourself. Lunch didn’t even sound good at the moment. You felt nauseated, sick to your stomach. Weighing the pros and cons in your head, you were about to just take a nap instead of getting up, when the intercoms clicked on, “Agent (Y/l/n), Mr. Stark is wondering what you would like him to pick up from Wing Stop for you”, FRIDAY’s voice sounded. Your heart rate picked up as you imagined having to talk your way out of not eating to the team. It wouldn’t even be that hard, you could lie, but the thought of talking to anyone made your chest tighten and hurt.

“Just- Just tell him I don’t feel well. I don’t want any food”, you mumbled, hearing the comms click off after you stopped speaking. It only took a few minutes before you heard a knock at your door. You expected it to be Tony or Steve, but your assumption was wrong. “(Y/n)? You alive in there?”, Pietro’s voice joked from the other side. ‘Oh my god, fuck me. Why him!?’, if your thoughts weren’t wild before, they were now running rampant. Your hands flew up to your face, your heart was hammering in your chest, why did it have to be your crush, of all people, on the other side of the door?

Obviously, you steeped in your thoughts too long, as Pietro knocked more impatiently this time, “C’mon, (Y/n), you’re really not dead right?”. You swallowed your fears, inching off the bed, stepping on shaky legs. Opening the door, you were met with a very cheery looking speedster, who flashed you a smirk. “Ah, so you are alive, had me worried for a second princeza”. “Gotta keep you on your toes”, you stated, your voice coming out gravelly from dehydration.

Pietro was now leaning against the door frame, as he squinted at you, “You don’t look so good. I know Tony said you weren’t feeling good, but I didn’t think it was true”. He reached out to feel your forehead, as you just huffed, lightly pushing his hand away. “Not that kind of sick”, you murmured, looking away from him. He frowned, hesitating with his movements. “What kind of sick then?”, he asked, confusion washing over his face. You paused for a moment, deciding whether or not you really wanted to open up. “Uh, just, anxiety I guess”, you stated awkwardly, fumbling with the seams of your sweatshirt. You didn’t dare look up to Pietro, you didn’t want to see his reaction, you just wished if he was upset that he’d leave you alone, in silence.

“Anxiety? What’s making you anxious?”, his voice grew quiet and concerned, speeding his way into your room before you could protest. You cringed at his question, how were you supposed to explain something that you didn’t even understand? “Nothing, really, just feeling on edge. I don’t really have a good explanation, just feeling not great”, you were shaking in your place, why didn’t you just stay in bed and pretend to be asleep? You could feel Pietro’s gaze on you, a soft breeze pushing past you, as he sped up to you. “Is there anything that would help?”, he gently grabbed your hand in both of his, rubbing a thumb over the top of it. His concern became more palpable as he felt you shaking, squeezing your hand softly.

“I- I’m not really sure. Just an easy going day would be nice. Nothing really, drastic or loud, you know?”, you rambled, hoping he’d understand your wavelength. “So, I’m hearing a movie binging day?”, he was smiling now, a smile that warmed your heart. “Yeah, that sounds nice to me”, you gave him a small smile back, your nerves calming down the slightest bit. “No one’s in the common room right now. We can have the room all to ourselves”, he raised his eyebrows at the last part, as you chuckled slightly, shaking your head at his cheesy flirting. “Let me grab some blankets first, casanova”, you patted his hand, going to your closet to search for your collection of spare blankets. “I’ll go and get everything set up”, Pietro stated excitedly, disappearing out of your room with a blur.

You grabbed a few blankets, enough to wrap up the both of you, and headed to the common room. Upon entering the room, you spotted Pietro sitting on the couch with two large bowls of popcorn. Your stomach churned at the sight. You knew rationally at this point that your nausea was caused by not eating, but the sick feeling made you turn your nose up at the sight of food. Pietro must have seen the look on your face, as he reassured you, “Don’t worry draga, you don’t have to eat that much, just a little bit”. You nodded tentatively, walking over to him, wrapping a blanket around him, before wrapping yourself up as well, sitting down next to him. He handed a bowl to you before looking up at the screen, “So, horror or action?”. “Action, dunno if I could handle horror right now”, you chuckled softly with your words, scooching closer to him, curling up into his side. He gladly put an arm around you, pulling you closer to him as he started playing a movie you’d never seen before.

You did eat a bit, with some gentle encouragement from Pietro. It helped, but even with the relaxing day you were having, you still felt beyond jittery. Pietro sensed it, but just as he felt hopeless in helping you, an idea popped into his head. He got up for a second, much to your dismay, only to reappear a few seconds later, handing you a packet of markers. Your face scrunched in confusion, opening your mouth to question him, but he answered you before you could utter a word. “You like drawing right? You can draw on my arm if you’d like”, he was grinning from ear to ear, rolling up his sleeve slightly. A soft blush creeped onto your face, but you couldn’t deny that the idea of doodling on him made your heart flutter, in a good way this time.

Popping off one of the caps, you gently grabbed the underside of his arm, holding it in place. “Got any requests? Or can I draw whatever I want?”, you looked up to him momentarily, catching the way he only stared at you, instead of the movie that was still playing. “Surprise me, dusica”. You thought for a second, while you could choose something reasonable, this was an amazing opportunity that you weren’t going to pass up. And so, you began your design for a drawing of Sonic, as a real, but cute, hedgehog. Sadly, they weren’t permanent markers, but it still felt funny to you.

Pietro tried his best not to stare, but he couldn’t help himself. You looked too cute, tongue poking out, face scrunched in concentration, making sure every line you drew was perfect. He adored you, in every way possible. It didn’t matter what you were drawing, it was more than worth it to see the way your eyes lit up with excitement, how you slowly started to untense, your worries washing away in his presence. You must’ve stayed like that for over 40 minutes, Pietro having to start a new movie, but he didn’t care, he was lucky to even notice that the movie had ended with his focus being set on you.

The only thing that snapped him out of his trance was your voice, “And finished! It turned out better than I thought it would”. You smiled proudly, holding his arm at an angle to get a better look at your masterpiece. “All your artwork is amazing”, Pietro gushed, still staring intently at you. “Well, I’m not sure you’ll really think that when you see what I drew”, you couldn’t stop yourself from snickering with your words. “Oh? Let me go and take a look then”, and with that, he sped out of the room and into the bathroom, only to come back no more than a minute later. He was chuckling softly, hiding his mouth behind his hand, obviously trying to hide the fact that he was amused by your drawing. “I can’t believe you drew Sonic on my arm”, he huffed out, smirking widely. “Well, you did tell me I could draw whatever I wanted. And that was an opportunity that I was gonna take”, you held your head high, a new found confidence flowing through you. He rolled his eyes playfully, coming to sit back next to you, draping his arm around you again. “I’d let you tattoo my whole arm if it means I get to see you this happy”, his expression changed slightly, to a more sincere look. You couldn’t help but smile wider, you hadn’t even noticed that you’d forgotten about your nerves, feeling much more at ease now. “Is that an offer, Maximoff?”, you inquired, raising an eyebrow at him. “Sure, why not? Just let me choose the next design, okay princeza?”. “Sounds like a deal to me”.

Here is my masterlist :)

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