#this was originally supposed to be doubled spaced throughout .... JOKE !

[wadefm-blog]

           ⋆ ╰  another  year  at  hollingsworth  ,  another  year  of  the  big  six  rivalry  .  i  hear  that  AURIELLA  WADE  is  ensuring  KAPPA  KAPPA  DELTA  gets  a  solid  pledge  class  and  stays  at  the  top  of  the  ranks  . oh  ,  you’re  not  familiar  with  HER  ?  AURI  is  the  ZENDAYA   look  alike  from  PACES  ,   ATLANTA  ,  GEORGIA .  apart  of  PC  ‘16  ,  she  is  majoring  in  COMMUNICATIONS and  has  plans  to  WORK  IN  PUBLIC  RELATIONS  DEPARTMENT  AT  SEPHORA  after  undergrad  .  it  makes  sense  they  pledged  their  house  ,  their  SCINTILLATING  &  BEWITCHING attributes  make  them  perfect  matches  .  however  ,  their  INDELICATE  &  VAINGLORIOUS attributes  keep  their  name  alive  on  greek  rank .  if  you  don’t  catch  them  dancing  to  BEEF  FLOMIX  -  FLO  MILLI  at  a  fraternity  band  party  this  year  ,  you’ll  be  sure  to  catch  them  nursing  their  morning  hangover  at  THE  KAPPA  HOUSE . cheers to  another  wild  semester  !

          *  insert  feral  screeching  here  *  hello  angels  and  babes  !  my  name’s  ares ,  i  prefer  the  pronouns  she / they  and  i’m  from  the  eastern  tz  !  i’m  so ,  so  excited  to  be  here  and  i’m  EXTRA  excited  to  be  playing  my  actual  queen  miss  zendaya  !  with  that  being  said , don’t  ask  me  a  single  thing  about  euphoria  because  i  haven’t  watched  it  yet  (  since  i  have  the  brain  capacity  of  a  two  brain  cell  bitch  )  but  it’ll  happen  ....  *  spongebob  narrator  vc *  eventually .  with  that  being  said ,  i  can’t  wait  to  talk  to  and  plot  with  everyone  because  i’m  already  obsessed  !  my  discord  is  𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝐨𝐟_𝖊𝖇𝖔𝖞𝖘#6936  if  that  makes  it  easier  for  the  plotting  process ,  but  without  further  ado ,  here’s  my  baby  auri  !

full name. auriella kyla wade. nicknames. auri. birthday / age. december 25th, 1996 / 22. zodiac. capricorn. gender. cisfemale. pronouns. she/her/hers. sexual orientation. bisexual. romantic orientation. biromantic. height. five foot ten inches ( 5′10″ ). hometown. paces, atlanta, georgia ( click ). current location. savannah, georgia. nationality. american. ethnicity. scottish, german, and african american. languages. english, conversational german and spanish.

          whitney young and tristan wade were high school sweethearts, meeting each other when they were a sophomore and junior, respectively. the couple was madly in love and remained that way, even though tristan was the talk of the town since he was the best quarterback their high school had seen in years. most expected for the couple to run into cheating and mishaps, but tristan was madly in love with whitney, so much so that he proposed to her with a small ring that he promised to replace once he made it to the nfl. whitney followed tristan to berkeley, one of the hardest schools to get into, but also one of the hardest schools to get scouted for. 

          tristan made it through to his senior year and was the #1 draft pick of 1992, and signed with the dallas cowboys. after his first year in the nfl, he proposed to whitney with the bigger ring as promised and even though tristan played for the cowboys, the couple lived in atlanta due in part to whitney getting her dream job at cnn. at that time, the job was still a bit on the entry-level side, but she was happy to have had her foot in the door.

          four years later, after the couple married in a beautiful reception in miami, whitney and tristan welcomed their daughter auriella kyla into the world. born on christmas day, auriella was considered to be their little christmas miracle. in short, whitney and tristan were the aisha and steph of the 90s, but in football instead of basketball. the couple were envied due to their success, and were even featured on an episode of mtv cribs during the first season. 

          growing up, auriella was mainly raised between atlanta and texas. she went to school and lived in atlanta, but her parents also had a home in texas that was used during the football season. auriella attended the most elite schools that money and atlanta could give her, so she grew up surrounded with people who had immense wealth and influence. by the time she reached high school, she had become a girl who knew exactly what she wanted and how she was going to get it, no matter who she had to step on in order to get it. she wanted to be student body president ? she’d bribe the voters. wanted a specific superlative in the yearbook ? be fake friends with the yearbook staff. when it came to her grades, though, auriella worked hard for those and dared anyone to challenge her on that.

          come her senior year at north atlanta high school, auriella was named prom queen and most likely to be successful, two things that she made sure to have from the moment she stepped foot into the building. auriella had applied to and been accepted into a few schools, including her parents’ alma mater uc berkeley, but it was the university of hollingsworth that called her name after taking a tour of the campus. she loved that she wasn’t too far from the beach, and she even clicked with a few people she came in contact with during the tour.

          so, auriella packed her bags and decided to major in communications at #hworth. during rush week, no one had expected for her to rush kappa, considering auriella’s air of superiority, but in a way -- it worked best for her. even though she had the cushion of her parents’ wealth, auriella wasn’t dumb by any means and she knew how to get exactly what she wanted -- was the bribing again ? probably, but she’ll never tell. and, it didn’t help that her mother was a legacy of kappa at their berkeley chapter.

          she has plans of working at sephora following graduation due in part to the fact that she did an internship with colorpop over the summer and wants to be a part of the publicity of a brand as big as sephora. it helps that she’s done various brand sponsorships over the last couple of years, and immediately fell in love with sephora after she worked with them a few times. 

          as for her personality, in regard to her positive traits scintillating and bewitching,  auriella is remarkably clever and ridiculously charismatic. she knows how to get her sisters out of sticky situations no matter the issue and she knows how to get past any issues that someone might encounter while she works as social chair with the sorority ( if that hasn’t been taken ! ) 99.9% of the time, auriella is working at her desk whether it be getting kappa’s social events prepared to also getting her own assignments done. she’s pretty much known around campus due to her crisp white tesla and the sound of her heels clicking on the sidewalk. when she’s like that, she means business. 

          as for her negative traits, auriella is indelicate and vainglorious. meaning that she shows a lack of sensitive understanding and excessively proud of oneself or one’s achievements. in short, when she wants something to be done and it doesn’t get completed, she doesn’t accept excuses and whenever she doesn’t get exactly what she wants, she uses her accomplishments in order to fix things. for instance, when she received a lower grade on her assignment when she thought she deserved higher, her immediate response was ‘ i haven’t been on the dean’s list since freshman year to get a B+, margaret. ’

          since we haven’t talked about her parents in a while, just know that whitney had her own show with cnn in new york city while tristan has since retired from football after winning four super bowls with various teams and has become a sports commentator with espn as well as an businessman/entrepreneur ( something like shaq ). with that being said, during the summers, auriella has free reign of their house in paces since her parents have made new york their permanent home for now.

          some minor things about auriella is that whenever she doesn’t have classes, she often is at the kappa house or maybe somewhere on campus. i think she’s the type to be a part of various clubs, and probably is the president of them, so she’s a busy gal. when she’s not in class though, nine times out of ten she’s wearing a face mask and walking around the kappa house in a massively over-sized shirt that she nabbed from one of her .... ~ahem, conquests. she is never seen on campus in anything less than heels with her favorite bag of the moment, which at this time is a soft pink hermes kelly bag. 

          as for connections ( and then i’ll promise to shut up because i always talk too fucking much ), i would love to have anything ! ex friends, friends to enemies, hateship, bad/good influence, childhood friends, confidants, fake friends, enemies to friends, frenemies, squad, childhood friends, exes on good/bad terms, flirtationship, one night stand(s), exes without closure ... literally anything ! if you see auri fitting in in any connections that you may have open, please let me know i’m literally down for anything !

#rank:intro #this was originally supposed to be doubled spaced throughout .... JOKE ! #n e ways hi hello thank u for having me #can't wait to plot w u guys <3 <3 <3

[the-phoenix-heart]

10 Amazing Futurama Comics

There is a severe lack of Futurama content on this and other sites (seriously, the Night at the Museum movies have more fics than Futurama). And, nobody posts about the Futurama comics. So I’m posting 10 of my favorites.

10. Attack of the 50-Foot Amy (Issue #33)

It’s actually not as sexual as the cover makes it out to be. The basic premise is that Amy mistakes the can of growth spray (that Cubert and Dwight want to use for their science fair project) for hair spray and sprays waaaay too much before her anniversary date with Kif. Meanwhile, Bender teaches Fry the wonders of video piracy, but after he gets scared by a movie home alone style he eats his disc of pirated movies and starts uncontrollably acting them out. You can probably guess how these two plots connect.

While I do list this one as one of my favorites, it’s far from perfect. The artwork is good, but the scaling on Amy is very wonky so she looks more like a twenty-foot Amy (also Dwight’s eyes are drawn weird in this comic, he looks blazed out the entire time). But I cannot help but be charmed by this comic. It’s got some sweet Bender and Fry friendship moments and actually makes me believe Kif and Amy’s relationship for a little bit. They are very sweet in this comic, although Kif does go through some pain in this comic.

Best moments: They way they resolve the plot is actually pretty funny and clever, plus Bender hopped up on pirated movies is a joy. At one point Fry gets shoved by Steven Spielbot (don’t ask) and Bender goes all Rocky on his ass saying “No one talks to my gal, Adrian, like that!” It’s very sweet and...subtextual if you understand my meaning. This one also has anti comic book piracy message at the end which was ironic for me to read.

9. Doctor What (Issue #32)

The Professor creates a time traveling port-a-potty so that you can pee in whatever time and space you want, although it’s completely random. However, Zoidberg accidentally breaks the potty, so him, Leela, Fry, and Bender have to keep randomly flushing to get back home. On each of these new worlds Zoidberg keeps accidentally saving the citizens, getting medals, and ends up becoming addicted to the fame he keeps winning. Which leads to them getting stuck in a post apocalyptic New New York.

This is the infamous Leela-Bender-Fry fusion comic, Leelan von Fry-Bot. His backstory is actually a little sad, but I won’t spoil it here. This one is pretty good, because it has Zoidberg as the hero. Actually quite a few of these feature Zoidberg as a fourth member of the delivery crew which is weird, but not entirely unwelcome. It’s also fun to see these other worlds, and now that I think about it it’s actually a little similar to The Late Phillip J. Fry, what with the time travel to different interesting worlds.

Best Moments: I actually liked Leelan’s backstory, and his interactions with his “parents” (you’ll understand when you read it) are actually pretty funny and a little cute. Fry really wants to be a dad you can tell.

8. The Simpsons Futurama Crossover Crisis II

The professor creates a device that takes characters out of their stories into the real world. Trouble is, he tells the mayor that this invention is useful because you can get slave labor out of the characters because they technically have no constitutional rights. The Simpsons end up working with the Planet Express crew, but an accident leads to the release of ALL FICTIONAL CHARACTERS EVER.

This is a sequel comic to the Futurama Simpsons Infinitely Secret Crossover Crisis (fun fact: a reference to several famous comic book arcs). I chose this one above it though because I think it understood the assignment better. The original is funny, but I just don’t think that Springfield is a good setting for a Futurama crossover. Springfield for all its zaniness, is not the future. New New York, however, is great for this crossover. We get several scenes where we see the Simpsons going through space and fighting off monsters. We even get to see the other residents of Springfield in the future, Mr. Smithers becomes a space pirate and Mr. Burns falls in love with Mom, it’s great.

Best Moments: Some of them I already mentioned, but I cannot stress enough how hilarious the Burns-Mom romance is, it’s especially good when you can hear their voices in your head. I also like the friendship the Simpsons have with the Planet Express crew.

7. Six Characters in Search of a Story (Issue #14)

This is a very interesting comic. The Professor falls asleep, so to pass the time the crew decides to look through his old failed inventions, and well, that’s a very bad idea. The most interesting thing about this comic is it’s designed so that if you want you can only read certain panels to follow one person’s story. The Futurama comics do this a lot of the time and it’s always interesting.

The shenanigans that occur in this one are really funny, and there are some great looking pages in this. Also the Futurama crew clearly took ideas from the comics, and this is one of them. You can tell from the cover art that this does have elements of “Benderama” in it, what with Bender cloning himself ad infinitum. I also really like the climax, it’s a little schmultz-y for Futurama, but I don’t mind.

Best Moments: Fry gets stuck with a Spanish speaking Bender and I don’t know why but it’s really funny to me. The professor also gets some funny moments in this one. And Scruffy. Scruffy is always a delight.

6. Igner-ance is Bliss! (Issue #63)

Yeah this is the infamous robot Leela and Fry comic. Don’t worry, like the cover says, it’s not as dramatic as it looks. The crew has to go to a world that’s too dangerous for humans, so Fry, Leela, and Zoidberg all have their consciousnesses put into robot doubles so they can make the delivery. However, it turns out this planet is a sort of getaway spa for robots, and the crew decides to party it up there, at least until Bender discovers that this is a front for an evil plot by Mom. The subplot is mostly about how Igner is not respected by his brothers.

This one is fun, and I love a comic where Bender has to be the voice of reason. It is clearly killing him to be the responsible one, but I love it. Also, I have a soft spot for Igner, so it’s nice to see him get thrown a bone for once. This also has some really fun jokes with everyone, but Zoidberg in particular gets some bangers. I think my only problem is it ISN’T as cool as the cover makes it out, but like I’m happy with what it is.

Best Moments: Fry beats up Bender at one point and wins, I think he deserved it. Also, y’all know Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars? He makes some cameos in this one. Also all the robots (sans Bender) make a Japanese style mecha and it’s the coolest thing ever. Plus everything I’ve said about Igner I love in this one. Oh also Fry beats Calculon at poker and I really love that.

5. Who’s Dying to be a Gazillionaire? (Issue #5)

This one is sweet. The IRS is threatening to bankrupt Planet Express, and if they can’t think of a way to make a million dollars they will go out of business. No one really has any ideas and doesn’t even really care, except for Fry who is determined to save Planet Express. He gets the idea to go onto Who Wants to be a Gazillionaire to make the money, even though it’s a trivia show and if he loses he will die.

This one really warms my heart, it’s Fry at his best, just doing what he can for the people he loves. Even the professor is great in this one. I don’t want to spoil it, but trust me when I say it’s good (god I hope I’m not building this up too much).

Best moments: The end panel. But also the resolution of the story is great, and I really appreciate this comic for Fry as a character.

4. Rumble in the Jungle (Issue #38)

This is a fine comic. Leela is mad that she’s not being respected by Fry and Bender, and it’s bad enough that they don’t believe her when she says they’re going to crash into a planet. They end up parachuting down and getting separated. Leela ends up as queen of some workers in the “Amazon,” meanwhile Fry finds Bender’s corpse and goes off to avenge him.

This one is fun, and another fun one for Fry, because he’s determined to avenge Bender and works hard for it. This also includes the original Frender, not the ship but fusion. Leela and Fry even have a fight scene against each other and it’s honestly great.

Best Moments: Fry is great throughout the entire comic, and Leela spends most of her time beating up random animals. Bender also using a lead parachute he made out of toys he stole from children is funny, especially because I’m always a sucker for Bender doing dumb shit.

3. Don’t Go Taking My Heart! (Issue #69) (nice)

Mom only has a couple weeks to live, unless she can get a heart transplant. It’s revealed that Mom uses the cryogenics lab to get new body parts for herself, and that Fry was supposed to be her heart donor! Unfortunately, because he was unfrozen she now has to get him to work for Mom Corp to make sure his heart stays intact for the procedure.

If you can’t tell I love the Fry-centric comics, and I also like the comics where Mom is the villain. Of course this comic doesn’t go completely how you expect it to go, it’s actually REALLY sweet. I also love the fact that in this comic Fry actually makes a great intern. He basically has the job of a secretary and he’s GOOD at it. And I love seeing when Fry is good at things. The reason why I put this at only 3 is because it doesn’t really have a subplot. Bender gets a job at mom corp to but it’s only there for a couple pages, and Leela’s new crew gets two panels and that’s it.

Best Moments: The moments with Mom and Fry, but also guess who Mom’s doctor is? I’m actually not going to reveal it because it’s so random but also hilarious.

2. Boomsday! (Issue #58)

The Professor builds Bender his own parents, as a way to placate/discipline Bender. However, these parents decide that Fry is a bad influence on Bender, leading to them kicking him out. Meanwhile, the Professor’s doomsday devices are all stolen, and he has to go find them.

Both of these plots are funny and good. Bender’s plot is also really sweet what with his friendship with Fry, and his wish for parents. Meanwhile the Professor’s plot is just really funny and I do love seeing the Professor in his element. The ending is mostly heartwarming.

Best Moments: Everything with Fry and Bender, and Bender has a sweet relationship with his fake parents. Also, the Professor uses Issac Asimov candles on the robot mafia which I found a great joke. Oh, and the Professor’s first doomsday device was made when he was four years old and I love that. The end of the comic also has very nice message.

1. Rotten to the Core (Issue #27)

The world’s weather has gone kerflooey, and the Professor has figured out that his invention that can drill into the center of the Earth has been used. It conspires that Bender sold it at a yard sale to some aliens call the magmoids. The magmoids are trying to steal magma from the Earth’s core and the crew has to go and stop them.

This is my favorite because it’s a great character comic. All of the main three have great moments, and it’s also a great science comic. The Earth’s core is incredibly magnetic so of course Bender starts spouting out folk songs, and also SECRETS. I can’t believe no one has used the fact that canonically magnets make Bender incapable of telling lies. Anyway, it’s just really fun.

Best Moments: Way too many to count. Bender and Fry are told to cut out the “Brokeback Moanin,’“ Leela and Fry are bitter at the end, Fry tells story about his childhood, Bender has some great secrets to tell, the Professor gets a really fun ending, Bender has a rare moment of generosity, and the entirety of the climax is all kinds of fun and sweet.

#this is all part of my agenda to make more people watch futurama #or specifically read futurama because if you are antsy about watching a seven season show then at least you have 10 great comics you can rea #futurama #i try not to include frender in this but i'm easily susceptible to their friendship #turanga leela #phillip j fry #bender bending rodriguez #the professor #hubert j farnsworth #dr john zoidberg #john zoidberg #zoidberg #futurama comics

[imaginesntingz]

Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

————————-

You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

#gaara #gaara imagine #naruto imagines #temari #gaara of the desert #gaara of the sand #naruto #comfort #imagine #love #cuddling #gaara x reader #gaara x y/n #gaara fanfiction #gaara x you #kazekage gaara #anime imagines #mental health #mental heath support #self care #healing journey #chronic depression #panic disorder #x female reader #x fem!reader

[jgvfhl]

The Number Lads

Part 1/???? 3K words, no warnings :)

 So I’ve created an audience on Tumblr for the Number Lads, and I’ve happened to got 3K words here for them. So! Here are the origins of the Number Lads! More to follow.... eventually....

For future reference:

Sevenset = ARC-7777 = ARCBoiiiii

Do-si-do = CT-2222 = Double Trouble

Trees = CT-3333 = Green Bean

Loops = CT-8888 = Loopy

Sixes = CC-6666

Double Trouble: i meant it as a joke sevens

ARCBoiiiiii: i didn’t

ARCBoiiiii: what you think you can drop that information on me and i wont use it??? how long have you known me

Double Trouble: okay okay but if you die i’m not mourning you

Loopy: ouch

Green Bean: how do you have this much time to comm us when you’re at ARC training, sevenset

Green Bean: who changed my name

Double Trouble: :3c

ARCBoiiiii: what you don’t like it? thought it suited you, trees

Green Bean: why did i let you guys talk me into this club…

ARCBoiiiii: we’re awfully convincing that way

Double Trouble: you felt compelled

Double Trouble: it’s the numbers gang bond

Green Bean: it was not that

ARCBoiiiii: was it loops space buns

ARCBoiiiii: i bet it was loops space buns

Loopy: what

Double Trouble: they are adorable

Loopy: oh kriff you, don’t you have arc stuff to do, sevenset?

ARCBoiiiii: ehhhhh my next training block doesnt start for another 4min, so....

Double Trouble: well i gotta run, we’re going hyperspace in a min or so--remember the meeting next week!!! be there or be square!

ARCBoiiiii: we dont have any perfect squares yet ;-;

Green Bean: Yeah, yeah, i’ll see you weirdos eventually

Loopy: stay alive out there

Double Trouble: especially the guy who wants to recruit Commander Death over there

ARCBoiiiii: I’ll be fiiinnnne whats the worst that can happen

Green Bean: i mean. his name. is DEATH?

ARCBoiiiii: ..... a fair point.... i guess you’ll just have to wait until the next numbers gang meeting huh :)

Loopy: maker help you

----

Sevenset was uncharacteristically quiet that day during second meal, but only because his mouth was continually occupied with food, not talking. He was on the clock today.

“Hey, Sevenset, are you inhaling those rations, or…?”

He looked over at Buster next to him, quickly swallowing his food. “I just got something I wanna do,” he said, taking a glug of water.

“Something so important you’re taking one of the few unscheduled breaks we have to do it? Okay then.”

Sevenset cleaned the rest of his tray, flashing a grin at Buster as he stood up. “Don’t wanna be late. Got a meeting with death.” He really couldn’t resist the pun. Honestly.

Buster’s eyebrow raised skeptically. His friend next to him, Sketch, asked, “Is this about some new way you’ve managed to piss off the trainers? Because yeah, I’m sure Alpha could arrange a meeting with death for you if you… I dunno, painted pink hearts on his armor.”

“Amazing idea,” Sevenset admitted, his brain automatically figuring out where the pink paint was (he’d have to make it), where Alpha-17’s armor lived (not sure on that one), and how possible it would be to sneak in and out to accomplish the task (a challenge). “However, no, not this time. See you guys later!” He deposited his tray and utensils in the proper area to be cleaned, then jogged out of the mess hall.

Kamino’s winding halls and levels really weren’t efficient--but compared to Coruscant… he couldn’t really argue. A healthy stretch of time in the Guard had given him plenty of tools to make his way around inefficient, crowded, twisty places like this. It didn’t take long before he reached where he was going. Aside from the resident Rancor Battalion, there were often troopers on Kamino from various groups throughout the GAR. They stayed out of the way of those training in separate wings of Tipoca City, and right now, Sevenset was very keen to speak to a visiting commander.

He slipped into a lift with two other troopers--visiting, by the looks of their battered armor. Luckily, they were too engrossed in their own conversation to really notice him, despite his rather colorful tattoos that usually made him stick out. But it was for the best this time. He got off at the level above and started down the hall, reading door labels as he went, searching….

Ah. Here. He pushed a button to open the door, but it was locked. Not entirely surprising, but… now what? If his internal clock was still fairly accurate, he had about ten minutes before he needed to be back for the next training block.

“It’s locked for a reason.”

He whirled, his body almost automatically snapping to attention at the low voice behind him.

Commander Sixes (AKA Commander Death, remember) surveyed him with a disturbing lack of expression. He was tall, for a clone. Probably closer in height to some of the Alphas than to Sevenset. His black armor stuck out like green plants on Coruscant in the brightly lit halls of Tipoca City, making him somehow look even bigger. Even more unnerving, he still had his helmet on, the visor lit with a dull green light, and fixed pointedly on him. Sevenset hated not being able to read people...

Sevenset hadn’t planned for this. Come to think of it, a lot of the “plan” he’d concocted relied on a few assumptions, and all of them seemed to be fading. One of them had been that he would have no problem talking to a CO--he never had before. “Sir, hi--hello--I was uhm…” He managed to clamp down on the first coherent thought to float through his head, so instead of blurting, “You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be,” he stumbled upon, “It’s a nice room you’ve got. From the outside,” and immediately wanted to bash his head in on the wall.

The commander’s helmet never moved, just kept staring him down. “Get out of my way,” he finally growled, taking a step forward.

Against all better judgement, Sevenset stood his ground, although he squished himself a bit closer against the door. “Yessir, of course, just--one thing, really quick thing, I promise.” When the commander didn’t kill him or rip his arms off or something, he went on, finally finding his words were cooperating with him. “So, you’re CC-6666, naturally. I happen to be CT-7777--Sevenset, I’m Sevenset. There’s a group of us, see, sir--with the repeating numbers, and we have little meetings--”

“No.”

“--is what I thought you’d say, but just--” he paused, fumbling a bit to pull a piece of flimsi out of his pocket. “There’s the frequency, there’s the date of the next meeting,” he said, holding out the flimsi scrap. “I’m sure the other boys would love it if you dropped by.” The end of his final sentence shriveled into an undignified squawk when Commander Sixes reached out, grabbed his collar, and shoved him bodily out of the way of the door.

“Get back to training before I have some of my boys drag you there,” he said, entering the door’s access code.

“I’ve got six minutes--”

The door slid shut in his face. Well. He was still alive. So… that counted as a success. Perhaps not a resounding success, but a success. He stood in stunned silence for a moment, still clutching the scrap of flimsi in his hand, wondering if he should stick it in the door so the commander would find it later. However, he had no trouble believing the commander’s threat that his men literally would drag him back to the ARCs if he told them to, so it was probably best not to linger.

Sevenset jumped to attention for the second time that day when the door slid open again. He just stood there, dumb, as Commander Sixes stepped out, plucked the scrap of flimsi from his fingers, then returned to his room with about as much ceremony as befitted dumping pebbles out of a boot.

Oh, yeah. Definitely a success.

---

The first thing Sixes did once back in the privacy of his albeit temporary rooms was remove the top half of his armor, only leaving the gauntlet with his wrist comm. Turning his attention to said wrist comm, he entered Colt’s number. There was a short wait before the other commander answered it.

“Everything alright over there, Sixes, sir?”

“It’s about one of the ARC candidates.”

There was a pause. Understandable. The ARCs weren’t supposed to be in this wing of Tipoca City. “Which one?” His tone suggested he already had his suspicions.

“Calls himself Sevenset.”

He heard inaudible muttering on the other end. “What’d he do this time?” Sixes had suspected as much.

“Quite a pair he’s got on him, hasn’t he?”

Colt laughed dryly. “Yeah, sure. Hopefully, he’s worth the trouble.”

Sixes looked over the scrap of flimsi in his other hand. “Yeah… I think he might be.”

~+~

Leaning back in his pilot’s chair, Do-si-do watched the little light on the ship’s holoprojector, waiting for the others to join the meeting. He always took the calls in his ship. It was more private than his bunk most of the time, and frankly, the audio quality was so much better than on the hand-held devices.

Trees was the first to join, punctual as usual.

“Hey, Trees,” he smiled.

“Have you heard from Sevenset yet?” he asked.

Do-si-do shook his head, combing strands of his bleached curls out of his face. “Nah. Figure he’s been too busy. Graduation was supposed to be a couple days ago, right?”

“Three, yes.”

Loops’ holographic miniature appeared beside Trees’. He looked exhausted, but awake. His long hair was down from his signature twin buns, and he leaned his chin on his hand, fingers resting just over the infinity symbol tattoo on his cheek.

“Loops,” Trees greeted him.

“Mph.”

“What happened to you?” Do-si-do asked.

“Supply shipment,” Loops sighed. “General Koon’s having skeleton crews tonight so we can get some sleep.” After a stifled yawn, he asked, “Is Sevenset dead yet?”

Do-si-do smiled. “Trees asked the same thing, and I have no idea.”

As if on cue, a third hologram popped up on the ship’s control panel. Sevenset beamed at them, his new ARC pauldrons proudly on display. “Guess who’s not dead, fellas!”

“Hey hey! Look at you, ARC-7777,” Do-si-do grinned, leaning forward in his seat. “How’s it feel?”

“I really love the kama, gotta be honest.” He was only visible from the waist up, but they could see him sway his hips back and forth, clearly enjoying his new gear.

“Show us the paint,” Loops demanded, as firmly has he could demand it in his half-asleep state.

Sevenset obliged, setting down his holoprojector--his personal one, now he had graduated--and stepping back so more of his body was visible. The paint job was fairly similar to his previous armor--the sharp edges, the circle on his right shoulder bell holding four stylized sevens--but the new armor on his chest and arms had forced some alterations. They could see just about all of the kama now, the bright red sevens standing out against the dark grey fabric. Predictable, maybe, but still eye-catching. That was Sevenset’s main goal, if it weren’t already clear from the tapestry of tattoos on his bald head that ran down his neck under his blacks, and the several glinting piercings in his ears and nose.

“It’s definitely you.” Trees, bluntly.

“They let you keep the red paint, huh?” Do-si-do said. Sevenset had previously been assigned to the Coruscant Guard. After proving a bit more trouble than the Guard could take, and catching some CO’s eye, he’d been shipped back to Kamino a couple months ago to join Rancor.

“Hey, if Commander Colt can have it, I guess I can too. No one stopped me.”

Without warning, a fourth hologram appeared beside the others in front of Do-si-do’s eyes. A trooper--a big trooper, even in miniature--and in dark armor, helmet included. His brows scrunched together as he studied the person, failing to recognize them.

Sevenset did. “Commander!”

“I see Colt decided against tossing you overboard.”

Oh, no karking way. “Commander Sixes?” Do-si-do blurted.

At the same time, Loops made some unintelligible noise and suddenly disconnected, and Trees froze like a lizard when a hawk flies overhead, his eyes gone wide, one arm half-way to a salute. Frankly, Do-si-do could understand their reactions. Commander Sixes--like many of the CCs--was legendary. His wing of Star Fighters had fought through some of the toughest space battles so far, and always came out of it. As a pilot himself, Do-si-do had heard story after story about their skills. The fighter wing and the commander now wore the nickname Death, thanks to their brutal but effective tactics.

There was a brief and painfully quiet pause before the commander said, “Pride of the GAR, this lot.”

“Eh, they’ll get over it,” Sevenset shrugged, his hologram appearing to zoom in as he came closer again. “Right, Trees?” he added with a grin. Their friend was still in shock, it looked like. “Might have to tell him to relax, sir.”

The commander’s helmet turned towards Trees. “At ease. Take a breath before you pass out.”

Trees blinked, lowering his arm. “Yessir,” he said quietly, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

“I’ll try to get Loops back,” Sevenset said, a datapad appearing in his hands. Damn, ARCs really did get all the good stuff. Do-si-do still had to share a datapad with his squad of pilots.

“Shouldn’t there be more?” Commander Sixes asked.

“Of us? Yeah,” Do-si-do answered. “I guess there should be nine of us, in theory.”

“Nine or ten,” Trees said, his tone still a bit clipped.

“Ten or eleven, actually,” Sevenset corrected, still looking at his datapad. “We don’t know if a CT designation can be all zeroes. Might have been taken out of the system, who knows.”

“It’s hard when we don’t have access to the full GAR database,” Do-si-do went on. “We have to rely on hearsay and brothers from other battalions. Sevenset and I met by chance on Coruscant.” Loops’ hologram reappeared. He looked a bit more awake now, still visibly on edge from the commander’s arrival, and with a glower on his face. “Loopy! Welcome back.”

“I hate you.”

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t know he was coming either,” he defended himself. “Blame Sevenset.”

“I’m blaming both of you,” Loops said. “You told Sevenset about him, and Sevenset was stupid enough to go through with it.”

Sevenset, his attention off his datapad and back on the meeting, put a hand over his heart. “Stupid enough?” he repeated, doing his best to sound utterly wounded. “I think you mean ballsy enough.”

“He meant stupid enough,” the commander replied immediately and without emotion. “And I agree.”

Do-si-do snorted a laugh at the look of utter indignation on Sevenset’s face. Even Trees relaxed a bit more. “Okay, I can get used to having a CC around,” he grinned.

“Finally, someone with the authority to tell him off,” Loops said, expressing Do-si-do’s feelings exactly.

The recipient of their mocking pouted at them, folding his arms as best he could with his new armor. “Now I just feel unloved.”

“Why do I get the feeling Commander Fox was only too happy to get you qualified for ARC training?” the commander asked, his tone remaining impassive.

“For your information,” Sevenset said, then stopped, realizing, as they all had, that the commander had known where Sevenset had previously served. No one had told him this information. “How did you know I was in the Guard?”

They all turned to the commander. “I’m a commander. I can look anyone up. I looked you all up.”

Do-si-do leaned even farther forward in his seat, a huge smile on his face. “You have access to the full database?”

“You can find the others!” Sevenset completed, a similar smile on his face as well.

There was a pause. Do-si-do was starting to think Commander Sixes just liked the drama they created. In fact, judging by how he had yet to show his face and was wearing all black armor, it seemed Commander Death was fond of the dramatic in a few ways. “In theory, sure.”

“Yes! Oh, fantastic,” Sevenset went on, rubbing his hands together. “You can tell us where they’re stationed--”

“If they’re still alive,” Trees added in. He had a point.

“--and then we can find them!”

The commander’s helmet tilted, his expression hidden. “I’m guessing Fox declined membership,” he said.

Do-si-do snorted a gain, and Trees and Loops both smiled. They all remembered Sevenset’s story of trying to recruit Commander Fox to be number ten for their little group.

“If by ‘declined membership’ you mean, ‘shipped me out to Kamino for someone else to deal with,’ then yes,” Sevenset answered. “He declined.”

“Maybe you can ask him,” Loops said.

“Hey, yeah--”

“No.” The commander’s tone didn’t leave much room for argument, but that had never stopped Sevenset a day in his life, and Do-si-do was more than content to sit back and enjoy the show.

“But you’re his big brother, right? You can drag him into things--”

“I’m not a damn recruiter, ARC, now stand down.”

The effect was instantaneous. They all recognized a CO’s “talk back and you’ll be cleaning ‘freshers for the next month” voice. Combined with Commander Sixes’ already awe-inspiring reputation, his order shut them all up. Trees once again straightened to attention, and this time they all joined him, even Sevenset.

“Understood, sir,” he replied. Do-si-do could see the new training in him now. Sevenset wouldn’t be an ARC if he didn’t know when to drop the comic act, but the speed and discipline with which he’d done so just now was different.

The commander waited a second or two, then he nodded once. “At ease.”

They relaxed, mostly. It was hard to ignore the mood shift that had taken place. As cool as it was having a commander in the club… there were some obvious issues that needed addressing if this was going to remain a “just for fun” place.

Do-si-do found himself as the one breaking the uneasy silence. “But… you can help us find where the others are stationed, right, sir?”

The commander’s helmet dipped. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Can you do that… now?” Sevenset ventured.

The commander’s helmet tilted to one side, and it looked like he sighed. “Fine.” The others perked up. “But, I can only find their assignments, not their current locations.”

“We can work with that,” Do-si-do agreed, and the others nodded along. “Who’s writing this down?”

“I can!” Sevenset volunteered.

Trees reminded him, “Your handwriting is entirely illegible. Even to you.”

“Yes, but now I have a datapad. I can type all my notes.”

“I’m just going to start talking if you boys don’t figure it out,” the commander warned.

“Okay, okay, fine, Trees can copy it.”

Trees’ organization skills would always beat out Sevenset’s anyway. Maybe ARC training had fixed that, though. Trees shifted around, grabbing what he needed, then looked up and nodded when he was ready.

The commander’s helmet tipped down to look at something--presumably a datapad--as he spoke. “CT-4444 is with the Marines under Bacara. Probably has limited contact availability depending on the mission. Infrequent leave.” Do-si-do’s eyebrows raised, and he glanced at Sevenset and Loops. They hadn’t been expecting a tactical rundown of each person. But… they wouldn’t complain. “CT-27-5555 is the only ‘fives’ trooper in the GAR. He’s one of Rex’s freaks, so good luck getting your hands on him.”

“That’s the five-oh-first, right?” Loops asked. “Torrent, or something?”

“Yeah. Rex’s freaks. I’m sure he’ll fit right in.” Do-si-do smirked. He probably would. “And CT-9999 is with Ghost Company in the two-twelfth. Pretty decent chance he and number five have run missions together. Or will in the future, anyway.”

“Is there a CT-0000?” Loops wanted to know.

“What about eleven-eleven?” Sevenset added.

The commander glanced up at them, then back to his materials. “Yeah, the one-eighteenth has a CT-0000. Didn’t find an eleven-eleven, though.”

Do-si-do frowned. “Not even a casualty report?”

“No.”

“But… he could still be on Kamino, right?” Trees said. “Cadets don’t show up in the main database until they graduate and deploy.”

The commander nodded. “He could be a cadet.”

“I could look,” Sevenset offered. “I mean. I live here now, so I should be able to find out if a CT-1111 exists. It’ll just take a bit longer.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” Do-si-do nodded. “In the meantime,” he continued, leaning forward, “who’re we going after first?”

Ta-daaa!! @blsmjoon @nintendolover13-ts4 (I couldn’t tag your side blog sorry) @alamogirl80 (idk why I can’t tag you either ;-;) @23-bears @theultimatesandwich

#my writing #my fanfic #clone ocs #number lads #numbers gang #tcw fanfic #sixes my beloved #I love how min started that tag #and like #three other people have started using it #sixes bein all mysterious oooo #not taking off his helmet ooooo #I finished this #then realized #I've put sevenset and fives #right in the battle of kamino #WHOOPS #lol

[satendou]

⟼  make a trade

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  pairing: bokuto kotaro/reader/tendo satori

⇢ au: college!au, poly!au

⇢ summary: tendou is doing his best to give you and bokuto some alone time, but at every turn his plan backfires. dates go awry and he winds up interrupting you more than ever. after another failed date, a twist of luck gives you the solution to his problem.

⇥  masterlist

⇥  requests are open! | rules

⇢  warnings: two different established relationships, polyamory, mild angst, fingering, double penetration, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

⇢  word count: 7.1k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  a/n: i know i know, they’re a weird pairing. tell me they don’t give off similar vibes tho. as usual, thank you to the woml @keijiskitten​ for not only editing this but for hardcore hyping me in her comments. ilysm.

The rain beat a rhythmic tattoo on the top of Tendo’s umbrella as he wandered home, matching his mood and the rapid pace of his heart. Water splashed up with every step, spraying his shoes and the cuffs of his jeans and he wondered idly if they would dry before classes tomorrow. Thunder echoed in the distance, but his pace remained the same.

Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, he paid little attention to where he was going, choosing to stare at his feet as he wondered, not for the first time, why he wasn’t good enough.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out despite the danger of the rain. The racing of his thoughts quieted down when he saw your smiling face, relief washing through him at the distraction as he hit talk.

You were quiet for a moment, waiting for him to make or break the start of the conversation and, when he said nothing, you sighed. “Hurry home, okay? I have ice cream and Insidious ready to play. I don’t want you getting electrocuted.”

On the other end of the line, you could hear the steady patter of rain and a plethora of unspoken words and feelings. Normally that would have made him laugh.

You hated this, the aftereffects of a failed date or relationship. It took all the life out of your bright and bubbly Tendo, the effect of years of built up insecurities and walls. He was open and sweet as could be to the people he let in, but that trust was fragile.

“Alright.”

That one word spoke volumes about how he was feeling. Whether he was stood up or there was just no interest on their part, it didn’t matter. But he wasn’t crying, which meant that at least it wasn’t another joke date. You had nearly burned down the dorms over that one and after a frantic night of comforting Tendo after you found him, you had gathered up your friends and made a show out of supporting him. It had taken him weeks to recover from that and a lot of nights were spent in your arms, clingy and needy and making sure you were there. 

Even if he didn’t tell you as much, you knew that’s what he was doing. That one stupid little prank had sent him back into his own personal hell, one it had taken you months to work him out of in the first place. Trust from him was hard to come by, but he was loyal to a fault once you had it.

“Baby, you know I love you, right?” you asked, and he almost missed it over the rain. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring down at his dirty sneakers as a flash of doubt struck through him. His heart clenched in his chest, the pain almost unbearable as he realized what he was doing to himself.

Suddenly, he just wanted to be home, where you would kiss and hug his insecurities away, proving your words were true and you weren’t just saying them.

“I’ll be home in a few,” he said and hung up. It would have startled you if you weren’t used to it. He tended to act before he thought, and once he set a course it was like it took over. Knowing a few literally meant a few, you returned to the living room, where your own guest lay sprawled across the couch still.

You could see the white frosted tips over the back of the couch, hear his quiet laughter at whatever was playing on the TV, head propped up in his hand. When you sat down in front of him, leaning against his stomach and sighing, he muted it.

“Ah, do you want me to leave? I guess it didn’t go so well,” Bokuto said, wrapping one arm around your waist. He wasn’t usually so perceptive, but it was such a specific sound that he just knew what it meant.

It was an impromptu date for the two of you, what with Tendo having one of his own. You had called him up an hour before and asked what he was doing and whether he wanted to hang out for a while, but with Tendo on his way home… Not that he minded you and Bokuto being together, and they got along great, which was a relief for you. There was a running joke in your group of friends about how one of the world’s seven great mysteries was how the hell you managed to curb the two of them at the same time.

The answer was there was no curbing it, you just watched them burn bright. Pretty sight, usually. The chaotic energy they channeled was amazing, so long as it wasn’t directed at you. Which meant not letting them get bored, which meant you were constantly on the go. Not that that was a bad thing, it was just a lot.

“It didn’t, but it’s storming and your dorm is all the way on the other side of campus,” you answered, running your fingers through his hair. A quick shower after he came in had rid him of the gel he had put in earlier that day-- dummy hadn’t brought an umbrella and the bottom opened just before he reached your apartment. You opened the door to find him absolutely soaked and laughing his fool head off while you ushered him in.

He sat on the couch while you towel dried his hair, leaving it artfully messy and fluffy and god was he ever gorgeous. You had just started making out, one of his hands on your ass and the other sliding up your shirt, when you got a text from Ushiwaka.

‘Tendo texted me. You need to call him.’

“Oh hell,” you groaned, threading your fingers through your hair. That could only mean one thing and sure enough, he was on his way home.

Bokuto hummed, catching your hand and kissing your palm and inner wrist. “If you’re sure it’ll be okay. I know how he gets and I don’t wanna intrude.”

Truth be told, he very much did want to intrude. You and Tendo together was something he had dreamed of more than once, though you both seemed oblivious. Which was absolutely ridiculous given he wasn’t known for his subtlety. And Tendo was supposed to be known for being good at guessing shit. Clearly that only applied to volleyball because he was missing Bokuto’s clear cues.

“Yeah, it’s too late now anyway,” you said as the lock turned with a dull click and Tendo stepped in. He looked unsurprised to see Bokuto there-- if anything he looked a little guilty. The front of his jeans was splattered with mud and there were flecks of water on his waterproof windbreaker. His breath was coming out in pants, indicating he had been running, and he collapsed onto the couch at Bokuto’s feet after dumping his jacket on the back of the loveseat.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “You ready for some ice cream and horror?”

Flashing Bokuto a grateful look, you scooted down until you were seated practically on top of Tendo. The couch shifted as Bokuto stood, wandering into the kitchen and rifling loudly through drawers and cabinets. You wanted to say it was for show, to let you know he was giving you space, but really it was just how he naturally was.

Boy didn’t know how to do anything quietly.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked, carding your fingers through his hair. The humidity had dampened the gel, his spiky locks falling down onto his forehead. They came away slightly sticky, but you did it again anyway.

Tendo stared at his knees, heaving a sigh. “She took one look at me and made an excuse to leave. Something about how she remembered her mom needed her help with something. Real original, right?”

Poor Tendo. It was a recurring theme throughout his childhood and highschool life. In elementary school, they had called him a monster. In highschool it settled down, but those who hadn’t been able to get past his appearance to see the bright soul underneath still spread rumors, calling him creepy and a freak, a thug and a delinquent. It had eased up once he made his friends on the volleyball team-- no one had wanted to get on Ushiwaka’s bad side.

Volleyball had given him a measure of self-confidence that he had never had, but that was as far as it went. Anyone outside of his circle of friends was met with suspicion, even if he didn’t show it. He was good at putting on a show for strangers, but anyone who knew him knew the difference. You hadn’t managed to get him to agree to a date for almost a year after meeting him, working your ass off to prove to him you wanted it.

It was Ushiwaka who kept you going, promising you that Tendo liked you just as much but he was afraid. “Just give him time, and don’t give up on him. He needs this, _____.”

So, shortly after a year had passed, he finally let you into his good graces and it was like your life had exploded into color. There was never a dull moment with Tendo before, but after he agreed to a date it was like the faucet had gotten stuck on and there was nothing anyone could do to turn it off.

Everything Tendo did was done with some measure of erratic carelessness, right down to getting dressed in the morning. Dragging you along to games and on dates without asking was something you had grown used to. Seeing everything the way he did came later, when you reached the point in your relationship where your thoughts synced up and you knew what the other was thinking without even having to think.

It didn’t matter that it had been years since you first got together, you still received texts throughout the day that held no coherent meaning, but you understood nonetheless to mean I love you. Whether it was a phrase in the book he was reading for lit class or the way the sun reflected off the screen of his phone, if he was reminded of you you were sure to find out.

You still woke up in his arms every morning, long legs tangled with yours, drool at the corner of his mouth as he snored softly into your ear. It made no difference if you had gone to bed angry with one another, you always woke up surrounded by warmth and strong arms.

So why were you the only one who could see that?

“I’m sorry, baby. She clearly doesn’t know a good thing when she sees one, if she did that,” you said, a familiar phrase versed a hundred different ways every time he came home after a failed date. 

Being completely honest, you had no idea why Tendo continued to agree to them. You admired him for persevering and not giving up, but his determination to try was somehow disheartening. Not that you were afraid he was trying to replace you, god knew that was the last thing on his mind, but you didn’t understand what he was aiming for. Even when you asked, he’d just shrug.

“Just playin’ the field, princess. No real reason.”

That obviously just wasn’t true, because otherwise he wouldn’t be so torn up over others’ judgments and assumptions.

His head fell to your shoulder, arms winding around your waist, releasing a long sigh into your neck. “Yeah, I know.”

It really didn’t sound like he knew, and he really didn’t feel like he knew either. The only thing he was sure of was you, the only constant good thing in his life. Besides Ushiwaka and volleyball and apparently Bokuto, but those just weren't the same.

The couch shifted beside you once again and you lost your balance. Only Bokuto’s hand at your back kept you upright, and you paused to readjust. Tendo followed suit, moving around you like a jellyfish until you were settled into Bokuto’s side, his head resting on your lap as you continued to stroke his hair.

The opening scene to The Hills Have Eyes played on the TV, the tub of ice cream Bokuto had spent 15 minutes getting out of the freezer thawing on the table beside three spoons.

“Everybody ready for some scares?” Bokuto asked, slinging his arm around your shoulders. This was new territory for him. While the three of you would sometimes spend time together studying or hanging out with friends, a whole date night was something that had never come up. Especially not after a backfired date. Usually if that happened Bokuto would book it at your request, leaving you to clean up the pieces of your partner.

Tendo hummed, his sleepy eyes half-closed, long fingers intertwined with yours on your thigh, almost touching Bokuto’s. You pressed play on the movie and silence lapsed as the opening credits played, Bokuto opening the tub of ice cream and digging out a spoonful. He offered it to you, and you giggled around the mouthful, way too big for you. Tendo looked up and smiled a little in response to the sound and sat up, receiving a spoonful in his face as well. 

Taking it like a champ, he swallowed it before saying, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go change.”

The light in the bedroom flicked on and you paused the movie while Bokuto took a bite, tempted to get up and follow after him. But he was lightning quick and settled back down beside you before you could make a decision, pressing play once again.

Bokuto slid his arm from around your shoulders when Tendo pulled you in close, nuzzling his nose into your hair. The rain still thundered outside, indicating a long and miserable walk home if he wanted to leave. Which, being honest, he didn’t. He liked being with you and Tendo and, though he couldn’t tell for sure, thought Tendo liked having him around too. At least, he assumed that because he assumed everyone liked having him around. 

Can’t be wrong if he isn’t aware of it, right?

It more than surprised him-- even though he was casually watching from the corner of his eyes-- when you leaned back into his side, Tendo’s elbows digging into his ribs from the combined weight of both of you. Tendo’s face was still hidden in your neck, and he didn’t shy away from the contact, while your head tilted at a very awkward angle to meet his eye, giving him a sly smirk.

Maybe Bokuto wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was being. 

Which was absolutely true, it had just taken you awhile to figure out if Tendo would be okay with it. Also, if asked, you would swear it was Tendo who had pushed you into him, and he wouldn’t deny it either.

Tendo wasn’t unaware of Bokuto at all. The former ace of Fukurodani-- and current ace of his college team-- was hard to miss. Frosted spiky tips, sharp yellow eyes that appeared scary until he opened his mouth and said something utterly stupid, an easygoing personality and muscles for days were all things Tendo could appreciate. That he made you happy was just a really, really amazing bonus and was one of the reasons he liked Bokuto in the first place.

The other reason being, of course, that he didn’t treat Tendo like an outsider when they first met. Nothing about his strange appearance or name had troubled him and, if anything, seemed to draw Bokuto to him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why at first, but he liked Bokuto right from the start. It was a lot like how he had latched onto Ushiwaka when they first met and assumed it was just his open acceptance of him.

You later pointed out that it was because the two of them were too similar. “Two chaotic entities occupying the same space. Thank god you get along or you’d destroy the world,” you had said when he brought it up to you. That had made him laugh hard enough to cry, but it also seemed to fit the way the others viewed them when they got together.

“Oh god everyone run, they’re together again.”

“Someone call _____ or they’re gonna burn the mall down.”

Etc., etc., he couldn’t remember what else they’d said. Not that it mattered, because when he was with the both of you he felt right.

And when you had started dating Bokuto, he hadn’t been bothered because it still felt right. Until he realized that the two of you would probably want some alone time and he found himself with a lot of free time-- and doubts. Unable to process those doubts-- his mind was always too muddled and on the go to really nail down a problem-- he settled on finding his own second partner, hoping that doing so would calm his erratic thoughts.

And that obviously did not work because every time he tried to go out, he would end up interrupting your date with Bokuto. Even though you said it was fine and never seemed angry, it seemed like his attempts to give you a little bit of range were backfiring, and every time he wondered if this was going to be the night that you let him have it.

“What, ‘Tori?” you asked, breaking your eye contact with Bokuto to look down at the red head in your arms. You could hear him muttering something that sounded vaguely like an apology, but it was muffled by the sound of the TV and his face hidden in your neck. 

Bokuto looked curious when you looked back up at him, brows quirked in confusion and a question in your eyes. You looked adorable, and he snickered into his hand. He could never take anything too seriously, after all and, even though you looked concerned it was outweighed by the cuteness factor.

“I--” Tendo started, drawing both of your attention. He pulled back, kneeling up between your legs and scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry, you know. For always interrupting your dates. I’ve been trying to give you some space but it just seems like it happens more when I do. It really isn’t intentional.”

The childlike fear as he looked anywhere but at the two of you would have been amusing if he didn’t sound so nervous. Instead it just broke your heart that he thought he had to remove himself to make you happy. Of course, that was typical of Tendo. If you weren’t getting it from him, he thought it meant you didn’t need him around.

You really should’ve noticed sooner. Tendo had never dated around before you started seeing Bokuto. It was so obvious to you now, after it had already been explained to you, and you cursed yourself.

Before you could say anything, Bokuto’s laughter broke the silence and two sets of eyes whipped around to him. His hand covered his eyes as his shoulders shook, the sound somehow both light and condescending and you weren’t sure what it meant.

When he finally looked back up, he was staring directly at Tendo.

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be so observant you sure are oblivious sometimes. We never said we didn’t want you around. You just went off and assumed that was the case. Did you consider we might want you here?” he asked, resting his cheek on his curled fist, vivid yellow eyes locked on vermillion.

Tendou sank down a little, hands resting on your knees, but he couldn’t look away from Bokuto. “I don’t know. I guess I never really did.”

Bokuto finally broke eye contact just to roll them, a single, fluid motion that you couldn’t hope to do in a million years. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be so good at reading people, you really are oblivious.”

“You said that already. You’ve been hanging out with Kuroo too much. Do you even know what oblivious means?” Tendo asked, his voice lighter than it had been all night. It suddenly felt like his dark world had exploded with light and color, returning to him his happiness.

“No, but did I use it right?” Bokuto asked, leaning forward and it was like a switch flipped and all three of you were laughing, pure and unadulterated, until tears streamed down your cheeks and you had to stop for fear that you’d die because you couldn’t breathe.

You had ended up with your head in Bokuto’s lap as you wiped your tears away, Tendo having fallen down to lay his on your stomach while he took in wheezy breaths. Bokuto was the last to stop laughing, his arm tossed over his eyes while he gasped for air.

Carding your fingers through Tendo’s soft locks, you asked, “So does this mean you’ll stop going out with all these people that don’t know what they’ve got, Sato? I can’t stand seeing you hurting because of them. And all because you think you need to give me space. As if you’ve given me an ounce since we started dating.”

Tendou laughed lightly again, his eyes closing as he traced patterns into the skin of your stomach, exposed where your shirt had ridden up while you were rolling around.

I love you.

Mine.

My sunshine.

Those were just a few of the things he thought of you on a daily basis, the most prevalent in his mind when your face flashed in his mind-- which was a very frequent occurrence, if he was being honest. If Tendo didn’t think about you at least once every ten minutes, he considered his day wasted. Which doubled if he added Bokuto into the mix, and he did. Often.

You giggled, wiggling a little as it tickled, but he didn’t stop. In fact, he started to actually tickle you, pinning your hips down so you couldn’t get away.

Two more hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them away from where you were tugging at Tendo’s hair and smacking his arms and back, trying to get him to stop, and you wailed in despair. “This isn’t fair. Stop, stop please, I’m gonna--”

God if that begging didn’t sound awfully familiar. You sounded just like you did when he didn’t stop fucking you after you’d came.

Oops.

Tendo was the first to notice, his hand grazing over the hard tent in Bokuto’s shorts, and he stopped short to stare first at it then up at him. You didn’t notice that the tickling had stopped for a moment, stomach still tensed and ready for it to continue. When you finally opened your eyes, you found the two of them locked in a steady gaze and were confused by the sudden intensity.

“Can you blame me? Did you hear the sounds she was makin’? I mean, that was hot as fuck,” Bokuto said with a shrug and your cheeks flushed hot as you realized what he meant.

“Well it wasn’t my fault,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. You weren’t really upset and they both knew it, now grinning at each other. It wasn’t exactly what either of them thought would happen tonight but were either of them going to complain?

The hands that wrapped around your upper arms and tugged you up said no, and so did the hands that skimmed up your sides tickling as they pushed your shirt up. And what were you going to say, trapped between two of the most gorgeous men you could imagine? It was a literal dream come true-- you had dreamt about it on more than one occasion and woken up in a heated sweat. 

Tendo liked those nights, even if he didn’t know the reason behind it.

Lifting your arms above your head, you let Bokuto pull your shirt off over your head, leaving your breasts to Tendo’s heated lips wrapping around your nipple. A familiar hand cupped your other breast, pinching and rolling that nipple between rough and calloused fingers and you craned your neck back.

Bokuto instantly knew what you wanted, his lips colliding with yours and swallowing the little gasps that had been leaving your lips. He didn’t know what kind of lover Tendo was, but you had certainly never complained about him, and wondered how their styles would mix. 

Fingers wrapped around his, pulling his hand from your breast and he snatched it away, using it to cup your chin instead. The hand that had been on your hip, holding you steady, replaced the breast Tendou had just abandoned, occupying the wet, sensitive bud with his fingers. Your back was arched away from his chest, moaning into his mouth as he tasted you.

Tendou had engulfed your other nipple in his mouth, sucking and rolling it between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue as he rubbed your pussy outside the fabric of your shorts.

“No panties, huh, princess?” he asked, hot breath ghosting over your wet nipple and making you shiver. The shorts hid none of the wetness you were leaking, the smooth fabric feeling rough against your clit and you trembled as Bokuto’s breath hit your ear.

“Were you plannin’ to have your way with me tonight, kitten? Thought I’d fuck this pretty pussy before Satori came home?” he whispered, nipping the shell sharply while he pinched your nipple. 

You jerked in his hold when Tendo kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs, not even realizing he’d gotten down there until you felt his teeth. He nuzzled the area now sporting a red mark, taking in the smell of your coconut body wash, hands sliding up over your hips and hooking in the waistband of your shorts. When they were off, he gave you just one long, slow lick up your slick folds before he pulled back.

“Get on your knees, princess,” he commanded as he shed his own shirt, lanky torso flexing and stretching as he pulled it over his head. While you followed his order, he and Bokuto undressed, shedding clothes and dropping them right next to the couch.

You inhaled sharply through your nose when Bokuto settled back down behind you, the hard length of his cock poking between your legs, grazing your wet outer lips. His hands roamed over your torso, taking a handful of your tits and squeezing your hips until Tendo settled in front of you, and for the first time they paused, looking at each other over your shoulder.

Bokuto reacted first, beckoning to Tendo with his finger, who leaned closer to your shoulder. You automatically shifted out of the way, hands coming to rest on his arm and chest to balance yourself.

The first kiss was hesitant and soft, testing the water to see if it was what they wanted. It was, Tendo’s chapped lips parting to glide across Bokuto’s soft ones-- the result of religious use of chapstick. He responded instantly, tongue poking out to meet Tendo’s and you could feel the reaction in the way they squeezed you tighter, until one of Tendo’s hands left, carding his fingers through Bokuto’s limp grey locks.

The taste of ice cream lingered on their tongues when they pulled apart, pupils blown wide with a newfound lust for each other, wide eyes locked. Definitely new territory, as Tendo had never managed to snag a date with another man before.

Not that he had tried particularly hard-- he just didn’t try to date anyone, until you.

And now here he was, making out with Bokuto of all people. Wild.

Bokuto was the first to turn his attention back to you, distracted by the way your hips moved, gliding your slick folds along his cock. He sighed into your neck, kissing and licking the juncture of your shoulder as he began to rock his to meet yours, applying more pressure to your clit.

Your little hitched gasps and pants were music to their ears, Bokuto whispering against your skin, “You’re so wet for us, kitten. Did that turn you on? You’re dripping all over my cock.”

“How do we want her?” Tendo asked, sliding his cock in beside Bokuto’s, and you shivered as they talked about what they wanted to do to you.

“I don’t know about you, but I wanna take this pretty ass. How does that sound, beautiful?” he asked low into your ear. His tongue flicked out, tracing the shell of your ear and sparks flew down your spine.

Tendo smirked when your lips parted, looking up at him with wide eyes. Leaning over you, he grazed his lips over yours, laughing in his throat at the way you followed after him, seeking more. “You gotta tell him what you want, princess. Is that okay with you?”

You nodded, a low whine leaving your lips. “Yes, Ko, please that sounds so good.”

The slow movements over your slit stopped, the heat of his cock receding to be replaced with long, lithe fingers, and you instantly recognized them as Tendo’s. “And how does it sound if I fuck this pretty pussy, princess? You want both of us inside you at once?”

Once again you nodded, fingers tightening and nails digging into Tendo’s upper arm as his fingers probed inside of you, stretching your walls around two at once. You were already so wet you didn’t even flinch, moaning his name as Bokuto’s warmth disappeared from your back.

Heavy footsteps receded, barely noticed in your pleasured state, but Tendo watched over your shoulder as he stomped, proudly naked, down the hall into the bedroom. There was some rustling, like he was rifling through something, before he appeared again, bottle in hand.

Tendo knew it was there, but wasn’t something he’d bought nor used very often. But when he found it one day and asked, he’d hardened instantly when you told him Bokuto was more of an ass man than a pussy man. The filthy way you said that had led to several rounds in bed, during which he found out just why Bokuto liked it so much.

The snap of the plastic cap fell on deaf ears as Tendo continued to plunge his fingers into your tight heat, thumb circling over your clit with every thrust. You were practically dripping down his wrist and he knew when Bokuto had started by the way you clenched down on his fingers, a surprised gasp leaving your lips.

Behind you, Bokuto pressed his slicked up finger to your tight entrance, circling and massaging until you were wet enough to slide into. You squeezed down around him, a small, needy whine filling his ears while you fell forward into Tendou’s chest. Your fingernails bit into his skin, leaving angry crescent marks and you tried to focus on the feel of three fingers pumping in and out of you, gathering up your slick wetness and stretching you open. 

A second finger pressed into your ass, scissoring just enough to feel mindblowing, while a third slid into your pussy and just thinking about how many fingers were fucking you was enough to send thrills of pleasure to your toes.

“God, princess, you look so beautiful,” Tendo whispered, his eyes narrowed as he watched your lips part and your skin turn pink. Each moan made his cock throb, dripping precum and aching to be inside you, but he would wait until Bokuto was ready. All he could think about was the whines and moans you would give them as they both filled you up at the same time, fluttering around them with no way to escape. Not that you would try-- you were practically begging them already, your pretty lips open and shiny as you licked them.

He leaned over to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth and nipping, eliciting another moan from you.

Or maybe it was Bokuto that did that, a third slicked up finger probing into you, intensifying the stretch as he opened your ass up to be able to take his cock. He knew exactly how much you needed, how much you could take, and he couldn’t wait until you were ready to swallow him up. He could feel Tendo’s fingers bumping against his as they thrust inside of you in tandem, the sounds of your slick pussy and ass making his mouth water.

The pads of Tendo’s fingers were rough, brushing against the soft spot inside of you in time with your clit and you could steadily feel your orgasm closing in, moaning into his mouth as your nails dug into his shoulder. It was one thing to cum around a toy while Bokuto fucked your ass-- it was quite another to cum around his fingers while Tendou fingered your cunt and you tricked yourself into your orgasm with the thought, crying and whining against his lips while your thighs trembled with the urge to snap closed. Your hips rocked, unable to escape their assault, Bokuto spreading his fingers more before easing them out of you.

They were replaced with the head of his dripping cock, throbbing with need and more than ready to feel you wrapped around him.

Tendo followed suit, lining himself up with your dripping hole, dragging his tip up and down your sensitive slit and feeling you quiver. He smirked down at you, vermillion eyes half lidded in amused pleasure, and took in your blissed out, blank expression.

The snap of the lube bottle caught his attention again, followed by the sounds of Bokuto fucking his own hand, lubing his cock up.  He wiped his fingers off on his shirt, mindless of the fact that he’d need to wear it later.

While you waited, Tendo decided to make use of your mouth. Sliding the fingers still covered in your essence between your parted lips, he commanded, “Suck.”

Your plump lips immediately wrapped around them, tongue laving and teeth grazing the pad, staring up at him with the widest, most innocent expression you could manage. He could see right through it.

“You ready, kitten? I can’t wait anymore. Need to feel you,” Bokuto said, a low groan riding in his throat as he nudged his tip into you, just waiting for you to give the okay, and Tendo slid his fingers from between your lips.

“Ko, fuck yes. Give me your cock,” you moaned, reaching back to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

His lips parted against your shoulder, a shaky breath of air puffing over your skin as he followed your command. You trembled and moaned in his hold as he slid into you, his cock stretching you further still even after all the prepping he did with his fingers. Your ass offered little resistance, giving into his throbbing cock and you whined, toes curling in pleasure until he was seated deep inside you.

Tendou gave you one warning nudge before he pushed inside your slick cunt, splitting your pussy open with a wet noise and a groan, your walls fluttering uselessly around him. Your eyes rolled back, thoughts nonexistent beyond Ohfuckohfuckohfuck, until his hips met yours and stilled.d

Both men’s breathing was erratic, fingers white knuckled on your hips and sides, squeezing tight enough that they were going to leave marks come the morning, not that any of you cared. All you could focus on was the incredibly full feeling, their cocks twitching every time you fluttered around them.

Bokuto released another stuttery moan, the first to thrust slowly in and out of you, testing to make sure you could take it. When all you did was moan, tugging his hair and arching your back into Tendo, he cursed, rough hands sliding up over your ribs and cupping your tits. Your hips stuttered when he pinched your nipples, keening in the back of your throat. “What a slut, taking us so easily like this. How do we feel, kitten? You’re so tight, squeezing around me. Gonna cum in this pretty ass tonight.”

You couldn’t think of a coherent response, whimpering out only a raspy, “So good, so big, feels so good, Ko.”

Tendo tentatively rolled his hips as well, watching your eyes flutter and roll, lips parting as you cried out, both of them stuffing themselves inside you at the same time. The only thing you could do was hold on, your head tilted back on Bokuto’s shoulder as they picked up their erratic pace, not setting a solid one and you couldn’t figure out if they were doing it on purpose or not, but it was working. Sometimes they were both buried deep inside of you, sometimes they synced up so that only one of them was in you at a time, but they kept a tight hold on your tits and hips, keeping you from taking control.

The sloppy sounds of their thrusts into your wet holes overshadowed the movie still playing in the background, only getting louder the faster they pounded into you. Tendo bucked up, grinding deep into you, the coarse curls at the base of his shaft tickling your clit while the head of his cock kissed your cervix, and a sharp jolt of pleasure careened through you.

Both reacted, hard cocks jerking inside of you, and Tendo repeated the motion on the next thrust and you called his name like a plea, nails dragging down the back of his neck. A string of babbles left your lips, their names mixed with cries for more, harder, deeper. They gave you as much as they could, cocks slamming in and out of you as fast as their muscles would allow, the wet slap of their hips against yours a constant sound on top of the ones leaving your lips.

Abandoning your breast, one of Bokuto’s hands slid down, grazing Tendo’s flexing abs to cup your clit, rubbing rough circles around it and you flinched, the already intense pleasure overwhelming.

You came around them with no other warning than a sharp cry, surprising them and they hilted inside you at the same time, turning your cry into a scream, back taut and eyes clenched tightly closed. White flooded your brain, vaguely aware of the hearted moans in your ears as they came, warmth filling you, and their stiff cocks throbbing inside of you.

For a moment afterwards, none of you moved, too focused on the rapid pace of your heart and your erratic breathing. Sweat covered your skin, covering the lovebites and scratch marks you had each left behind on each other. Bokuto’s face was hidden in your shoulder, his chest heaving against your back with uneven breaths, and Tendou’s forehead rested on yours, eyes closed as he too fought to regain his breath.

Bokuto was the first to speak, a broken and huffy, “Wow*.”

You laughed, lacing your fingers between his and squeezing. “Wow is not enough to describe that. You need to expand your vocabulary.”

Tendo huffed at your antics, his sweet breath fanning across your face as he said, “That was absolutely min dblowing. Exquisite. Fantastic. Do any of those work?”

“Much better,” you answered, and almost fell back as Bokuto stood up off the couch. Your legs were too wobbly to hold yourself up properly, and his hand on your back guided you to sit down. You could feel the mess seeping from between your legs and cringed at the idea of getting it all over the couch. Looking up to Bokuto, you said, “I need to go to the bathroom and clean up. Um, help?”

With a laugh, he pulled you up by the hand and lifted you into his arms, carrying you down the hall to the bathroom. You could hear Tendo cackling from the couch at your annoyed whining, smacking Bokuto’s hard muscles. Not that you were really upset, it was just embarrassing that your legs literally refused to work.

After a session in which you got a bit dirtier before you got clean, you were bundled up on the couch again, splayed out over Bokuto’s broad chest while Tendo was squeezed in behind you. His arm was draped over your side, idly tracing patterns into Bokuto’s skin-- as he had neglected to put on a shirt-- his head resting on his shoulder.

You had foregone the previous movie and moved onto The Grudge, the melted ice cream thrown back into the freezer in hopes of salvaging it. Tendo was gonna be pissed if it wasn’t. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, half-listening to Bokuto and Tendo’s quiet conversation over your head.

“So, we were gonna go to Tokyo for break. Kuroo and Kenma are going for a gaming convention and invited us along. Akaashi is going too. I know you said you didn’t want to come, but maybe that’s changed?” Bokuto asked, his fingers petting over your wet hair. In the glare from the TV, he could see the insecurity return to Tendo’s eyes, though he tried not to show it. 

“Are you sure? I wasn’t gonna go because I was trying to give the two of you--”

The steady rhythm over your hair stopped and your eyes fluttered open for a moment, locking onto the TV. The Grudge was in the corner, staring down at the old woman, making that awful noise, and you shut them again, trying to block out the sound with your partners’ voices.

Bokuto had covered Tendo’s mouth with his hand, cutting him short before he could finish saying “space.”

“It’s the three of us now, if you want it to be. And yes, we want you to go. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t. You need to stop being so hard on yourself, Sa-toh-ri,” he said, repeating the name the way Tendou had so many times on the court.

He hadn’t realized Bokuto was listening to him that closely and flushed with warmth. 

“Alright, sure. It sounds like fun. Do you know what they’re doing?”

The sounds of the TV and their voices faded, a smile adorning your face as you fell asleep to the knowledge that Tendo had finally realized he was good enough, if only for the right people. It was all you had wanted for him, and if Bokuto was the one to help him figure that out, it was all the better.

⇥  masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @lyovochkaa​ @kunimwuah​

#bokuto x reader #tendo x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #tendo satori x reader #kotaro bokuto x reader #satori tendo x reader #bokuto x reader x tendo #haikyuu x reader #.make a trade

[theorynexus]

Unrelated to the Epilogues

Apologies for not getting back to liveblogging, yet; however, that’s going to begin again with my next post.   This one is simply to express some thoughts that have been kicking around in my head for a few days, which I did not get the chance to express because I was sleep deprived and then briefly sick. Namely:   All weapons (or Strife Specibi, I should say) in Homestuck seem to be symbolically representative of the character who owns them to some extent.  A few easy examples would be: * the Dualing Pistol (White Magnum/White Wand), which is elegant and precise, only needing to be fired once to provoke massive, impactful change, and doubly representative of Alt!Calliope’s subtle orchestration of events behind the scenes; * The Dudely [Fire]Arm[ament]s (Caliborn/Lord English’s canes/rifles), which the aforementioned doubled set is contrasted to: whilst they are equally intended to convey mastery of events (and particularly the people taking part in them), these are more brutish, and make their impact through repeated blows (a pool cue arranges things through a loud, meaningful break, and then many serious blows to follow--- and while these blows might in theory require precision in order to make the balls fall where they must, in practice, Caliborn’s talent is in ensuring that every hit eventually brings things to a favorable conclusion, rather than in the shortest route possible).   Brute force methods are used to bring about the desired conclusion--- an inevitable death, generally  ---and the overkill that Caliborn (the Lord of Death, in some ways) utilizes whenever his rifle’s sights fall upon a target (for it’s never a single bullet that hits) is representative of his general methodology and spirit. *  Dave’s broken/mended sword, split over time, is obviously representative of his own Aspect, how it gradually affects him (time heals all wounds, as the saying goes, despite the fact that he seems to become quite incensed with it at some points, and struggles with it to the point of refusing to embrace it for a very long time), and especially how his personal history ties into his personal arc (Dave is more affected by his time with his Guardian than perhaps any other kid, despite the fact that Jade is fused with the replacement surrogate that might arguably be said to have usurped the position from her grandpa, and this is also a reflection on the Aspect of Time in his life, I should think).     How Bro (Dirk) Broke his Heart, and how Dave struggled to mend it over the course of the series has been much better discussed elsewhere than I could attempt to express in the brief space I’m allotting to this discussion, here, though, and thus I shall cut this off right here, just as both brothers have a habit off symbolically cutting things off, themselves. ~~~ The train of thought that I am wanting to express herein started with a thought that caught me by surprise:   I continue to have no idea what, precisely John’s Strife Specibus is supposed to represent, you see, so when I remembered that there was a method of inheritance called Gavelkind, it struck me that it could be related to this, as a pun.  Unfortunately, this seems like a dead end, unless it is a very forward thinking joke about every member of his party taking up the main character mantle after he dies in the “more canon [more relevant in Dirk’s eyes]” Meat Epilogue (or, alternatively, Davesprite and Rose’s inherited self from the timeline having to clean up John’s mess after the idiot got himself obliterated in the deal he made with Typheus after Terezi tricked him).     It could also be related to him forging the group through his Heir of Breath inspiration toward a path mechanic, but what are the chances of it being that simple an answer?   Unfortunately, said inheritance business seemed more promising than it was, because I was initially confusing it with the Elective method of kingmaking that is to be found in German historical culture. That truly fits with who John is, and resonates with the “I’m not your leader, I’m your friend” humblepie that was served up to us (and everyone else in his party). ... This line of thinking was useful, however, because it led me to thinking about Karkat’s own weapon.  Obviously, the “Heh, heh, Communism” line of thinking briefly occurred to me, but more relevantly, I thought of the reason why the sickle is used as a symbol of Communism.  It is a classic symbol of the lower class--- farmers, in particular  ---which hints at the very beginning to Karkat’s rather humble origins. While many people might like to think of his mutant blood as “potentially higher than fuschia,” or some such nonsense, more realistically, one has to realize that Karkat was placed in the lowest of low positions: not only was he the only member of his kind, but he would have been without a Lusus and immediately abandoned to death, if the worshipers of his Ancestor had not ensured that he had the dimmest possibility of a relatively normal life. At the same time, he wanted to defy this lowborn status and become a mighty general in )-(er Imperious Condescension’s army.   While this initial spark of revolution was not much, it is representative of all that was to come-- you see, the sickle is to some extent also a symbol of revolt, and while peasant revolts would generally be brutally put down throughout history (just as the waves of opposition to the Condesce were in Alternian lore), this would not in fact be the case with Karkat, or the session that he (and Aradia) would lead. You see, Karkat’s own ideals and the weapon that represents them are but the tip of the iceberg.  The Beta Trolls’ entire session was littered with themes of rebellion against the established social order, and the consequent turning of it upon its head.   First and most obviously, it would be two Lowborn trolls that would come to lead the two “teams” which the session had to offer. Both of these figures acquired this position by usurping it from Bluebloods, who might traditionally have taken up this role in a circumstance where the empress-to-be didn’t show interest in leadership and the Purple Blood in the group appeared to be an incompetent, serially inebriated sack of garbage. This theme particularly shown through in [concupiscent] romance, where we saw pairings that, without exception (other than possibly the crush that Ms. Leijon bore for Karkat, which saw no fruition and arguably did not count for anything, just as Eridan’s flushed feelings for Feferi didn’t “matter” in the end, and Kanaya x Vriska, while being a borderline issue for this topic, doesn’t count either, also due to it just being a crush), all saw subversion of social hierarchy:

Equius x Aradia, Gamzee x Tavros, Feferi x Sollux {I just noticed that these relationships all have the same social distance from one another for some reason.}, Terezi x Karkat. Vriska x Tavros is one-sided, and thus debatable, but also fits this pattern, intriguingly enough. Equius was hit with this subversive force in their social lives particularly hard, possibly because he was the Heir of Void, and thus was more inundated with forces of subtext than the rest of the group [particularly since he was a failure in that role].   Not only could he not resist the drive to submit to those it was “perverse” for one of his “station” to bend the knee to, when the opportunity to truly embrace the anti-normative forces that he had been dipping into (despite his Classist upbringing) came, he was so confused and uncertain that he could not properly understand what he was being pushed to do, and the necessity of it--- and thus froze, allowing himself to be swept away by the Rage Gamzee filled him with. These themes play out in Operation Regisurp, both in name and its practical implementation.  Furthermore, I have just, in the course of writing this post, come to the conclusion that this is why Gamzee had to be the final obstacle to the true end of the Beta Trolls’ session.  He was a crystallized manifestation of the old regime, and its established order:  Gamzee acted as a shadow of the Condesce’s will, the Hemospectrum’s implications, and the brutal reality that was Alternia.    It was thus quite fitting that Karkat was the one to stop his rampage, for he was the Knight of Blood who cajoled everyone to work together as a single team, rejecting the classical restrictions that would have spelled DOOM for their party in favor of bonds beyond the literal nature of the blood that flowed through all of their veins.   Furthermore, I think this is why that confrontation ended in the Shush Pap scene.   Not only was it true that Karkat had literally zero percent chance of actually killing Gamzee in the fight (and a very small chance, indeed, to defeat him through violence), but this would to some extent additionally be an endorsement of the old Alternian way of life.  Rather than through violence, Karkat used his bond with Gamzee to find a solution, and by this means, turned him away from his role as brutal Subjugglator--- though unfortunately this also meant that Gamzee would take a turn for the worse, becoming even more firmly cemented in his role as a servant to the Mirthful Messiah’s. ... Heading back to the meaning of Karkat’s weapon for a moment, I think that the sickle has another implication to explore: it is an implement of the harvest.  Karkat initially wanted to be a sort of grim reaper, slaughtering Alternia’s foes and claiming glory for himself and for his empress. While he was correct in thinking that he just needed an opportunity to prove himself (and thus, he was embracing the symbolic “one must wait until the fruits of the harvest are ripe” implications of the sickle in his own life), the climax of this narrative arc would come when Karkat found himself at the head of Meenah’s united army of all the trolls in the afterlife and bravely charged to meet a foe he knew could destroy the soul with very breath--- and the very real equivalent of the Grim Reaper, himself ---wielding the closest thing he had to a weapon painted with the rainbow (Fuschia an Lime Green bound together betwixt bands of black and white, thus singled out amidst all the colors of the light spectrum). This was his ultimate rejection of the Alternia that was, as he challenged the hidden hand that had twisted it into the place of horror it had been; and upon the fulfillment of that destiny, Karkat would vanish.

Yet, by some miracle, this was not the end: in a place separated beyond barriers of space and time, he would awaken, and but a short time later, he would be granted the Ultimate Reward that had once been wrenched from his grasp. ....................................................................................................................... One last matter of note:  It should be pretty obvious, considering the fact that universes are shaped to reflect the wills and designs of the Players involved, but I am pretty sure humans’ singularly colored blood is an explicit rejection of the hemospectrum, and the particular color that was “chosen” may very well be reflective of the important role Karkat in particular played in the session. What may not be so obvious is how fitting, symbolically, it is that it is a human that stands triumphant over the corpse of )-(er Imperious Condescension.  Curse baggage aside (which still has been irksomely unexplored, to my knowledge), the fact that it is essentially the Beta Trolls’ rejection of her world order that does the empress in feels very right and, upon reflection, is quite beautiful.   Obviously, there’s also a nice splash of revenge playing into that too, as visibly denoted by the weapon used and the handle wrapping, in particular.  I am curious as to the implications of Roxy’s typing color being the same as the blood of said fishy tyrant, though. That, I can’t quite figure out.

#Homestuck Analysis #Homestuck Spoilers #Karkat Vantas #Symbolic Meaning #Thematic

[aion-rsa]

Star Trek: Discovery Season 3 Episode 3 Easter Eggs & References

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This Star Trek: Discovery article contains spoilers for Season 3, Episode 3. Read our review of the episode here.

As the USS Discovery starts to explore the galaxy in Star Trek: Discovery Season 3, the first stop is, understandably, to check-in on how the Planet Earth is doing. Unlike Battlestar Galactica searching for Earth forever, Discovery decided to get the whole Earth thing out of the way right away. In Episode 3, “People of Earth,” the crew returns to the home planet of the Federation and learns things are not remotely similar to how they left it.

Along the way, “People of Earth” references a long-running TNG-Douglas Adams joke, a quip from Kirk in The Wrath of Khan, a famous DS9-era alien species, and more! 

700 years after we left…

Burnham’s opening narration fills in new details we previously didn’t get about the Burn, including the idea that prior to the Burn, about “700 years after we left, dilithium reserves dried up.” This means that around the year 2957 or so, the Federation was “trialing alternative warp drive designs.” We don’t know much about the 30th century in the existing Trek canon, other than Daniels from Enterprise had knowledge about that era. To put it in perspective, this time period would still be 500 years in the future for Star Trek: Picard. The idea of the Federation trying to change the way warp drive operates vaguely references the TNG episode “Force of Nature.”

47

When Burnham talks about being a courier, someone hands her a sliver containing the Starfleet registry NCC-4774. We don’t know what ship this belongs to, but it seems like this is a visual joke which references the long, and intentional inside joke about using the number 47 (or 74) throughout all of Trek which began around TNG Season 4. There are literally hundreds of appearances of the numbers 47 or 74 throughout the franchise, so many that there is actually a “47 project” devoted to finding all the occurrences of 47 throughout the franchise. 

The origin of the joke references the number 42 from Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. In that novel, “42” ends up being the answer to “the life, the universe, and everything.” Burnham is searching for similarly vague answers in this montage. In the ‘90s, “47” became the “42” of Star Trek canon, and Rick Berman joked once that 47  was “42, adjusted for inflation.” The number “47” is also an Easter egg of sorts for alums from Pomona College, sprinkled throughout TV and film history.

Terralysium and Burnham’s mom

Burnham tells Saru that during the year she’s spent in this future, she’s connected the planet Terralsyium and that “they had never heard of my mom.” This references Season 2 of Discovery in which we learned Burnham’s mother, Gabrielle Burnham transported humans from the 21st Century to a planet called Terralysium in the Beta Quadrant. In theory, Terralysium was supposed to be the tether location where Burnham and the USS Discovery ended-up. In “Perpetual Infinity” Burnham’s mom was sucked into a time vortex, which, in theory, could have deposited her into the future version of Terralysium. So far, though, that’s not the case.

Captain Saru

Saru is promoted to captain in this episode. This is a long time coming for Saru. He’s been a First Officer for two captains thus far, Captain Lorca and Captain Pike. And, in the Discovery novel Desperate Hours, Saru was upset that Burnham was promoted to First Officer over him prior to the Battle of the Binary Stars. This 2017 book by David Mack is slightly non-canonical, but it did establish Detmer’s first name as Keyla, and doubled-down on Number One’s name as Una. Anyway, the point is, Saru has been working for a long time to become Captain.

DOT-7 Bots

We briefly see the outside of Discovery’s hull being repaired by DOT-7 robots. We first saw these little bots in “Such Sweet Sorrow” in Season 2, when they emerged from the Enterprise and effected some repairs. One of these bots, of course, was the star of the Short Treks episode “Ephraim and Dot.”

“Galavanting”

Georgiou mentions that Book has been “galavanting through space with Michael.” This could be a reference to The Wrath of Khan in which Kirk says, “galavanting around the cosmos is a game for the young.” 

Saturn 

Although the planet Saturn is famous to us here on Earth — not counting the opening credits for Star Trek: The Next Generation Seasons 1 and 2 — this is seemingly only the fourth time Saturn has appeared during an episode or movie of Star Trek. Previously, Saturn appeared in the TNG episodes “The Best of Both Worlds,” and “The First Duty.” In Star Trek (2009) Saturn appears when the Enterprise hides near Titan. 

“One aye”

When Booker sarcastically says “aye, aye” commander, to Burnham, she replies, “One ‘aye,’ we’re not pirates.” This might reference the original TNG episode “Lower Decks,” in which Riker tells Lavelle that “One aye is sufficient acknowledgment, Ensign.”

Georgiou pretends to be an Admiral

When the Discovery is inspected by the Earth ships, Georgiou dons an Admiral’s uniform to “make it believable.” This is the second time Mirror Geogoiu has worn a Starfleet uniform even though she is not really in Starfleet. The first time was in Discovery Season 1 when she was authorized to impersonate Prime Georgiou to lead the mission against the Klingon homeworld. 

Generational ship

Saru’s cover story for why the USS Discovery is still in operation in 3188 is the idea that they are a generational ship and are crewed by their own ancestors. This concept actually occurs in the Enterprise episode “E²,” where the crew of the NX-01 meets an alternate version of the ship crewed by their descendants. 

Synthehol 

Book is furious to discover he’s not drinking actual booze, but instead, synthehol. To be clear, in Trek canon, synthehol can get you drunk, but mostly if you’re an alien or a former Borg. In the TNG episode “Relics,” Scotty complained about having to drink synthehol in Ten Forward

Quantum torpedoes 

It’s briefly mentioned the Wen’s raiders have “quantum torpedoes.” This tech was first mentioned in Star Trek: First Contact, which, at the time, made it very new. 

Starfleet does not fire first!

After Georgiou suggests Saru take swift and aggressive action, Saru remonstrates her by saying “Starfleet does not fire first.” He’s actually quoting… Georgiou in the very first episode of Star Trek: Discovery. Though, in that case, the Georgiou who said “Starfleet doesn’t fire first” was the Prime Universe Captain Georgiou, not the Mirror Universe Georgiou who we’re more familiar with.

Titan

After it’s revealed that Wen (Christopher Heyerdahl) is actually a human, we also learn that he’s from the Titan. In real life, Titan is the largest moon of Saturn, and, unlike most moons, boasts an atmosphere. Trek canon has mentioned Titan a bunch. In “The First Duty,” Wesley was training near Titan, and again, in Star Trek (2009), Chekov hid the Enterprise behind Titan.

Adira’s revelation 

We learn very quickly that Adira (Blu del Barrio) is a human joined with a Trill; specifically a symbiont called “Tal.” Burnham and Sura discuss their general ignorance of Trill symbionts, but Saru tells Burnham everything he knows about the Trill comes from the “Sphere Data.” This references the giant alien sphere Discovery encountered in the Season 2 episode “An Obol for Charon.”

The fact that Burnham and Saru don’t know much about Trill symbionts makes sense. It’s not clear that in the 2250s that the Trill were open about being a joined species, but by the time of The Next Generation and Deep Space Nine the Federation obviously learned about them. In fact, in the first TNG episode “The Host,” a human, Will Riker, was joined with a Trill. But, Burnham and Saru wouldn’t know about that because it would have been in their future back in 2257, and certainly, the Sphere didn’t know about that either.

Captain Georgiou’s telescope 

Saru unpacks Captain Georgiou’s telescope and puts it up in his new ready room. This telescope was presumably salvaged from the USS Shenzhou and given to Michael Burnham as part of Georgiou’s will in “The Butcher’s Knife Cares Not For the Lamb’s Cry.” But, after that, Burnham gave it to Saru instead. Saru and Burnham both used this telescope for practical purposes in the first Discovery episode ever, “The Vulcan Hello.”

Read more

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Which Quadrant?

Burnham says that Book has “a fresh start, in a new quadrant.” We know Earth is located in the Alpha Quadrant, which seems to imply Book and Burnham were previously operating in the Beta Quadrant. 

Starfleet Academy and Picard’s favorite giant tree

Although Starfleet is no longer operational on Earth, the crew visits the grounds of Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. There, they find what seems to maybe be a huge elm tree. If so, this tree was actually referenced by Jean-Luc Picard in the TNG episodes “The Drumhead” and “The Game.” In theory, if this is supposed to be the same tree, it was tended by Boothby in the 24th Century which would imply it existed at least 100 years before that, in the mid 23rd Century, too.

Golden Gate Bridge 

The final shot of the episode pans out to show the 32nd Century version of the Golden Gate Bridge. The last time we saw this bridge chronologically, was in Star Trek: Picard in 2399. Though, prior to that, the bridge had been partially destroyed in the Dominion War in the 2370s. That is if you believe Changelings are real…

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Star Trek: Discovery airs new episodes on Thursdays on CBS All Access.

The post Star Trek: Discovery Season 3 Episode 3 Easter Eggs & References appeared first on Den of Geek.

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CARNIVAL DAY recaps [8/13]

Today’s recap: Ghostly investigations, the Ultra Evil Really Bad Guys in an awkward Mexican standoff with Slightly Less Bad Guys, and XX’s thoughts on writing.

--

FORTY-FIVE

14 Jun 1997 — 20 Jun 1997

CONTINENTAL DRIFT

--

The writer detective XX wrote a few stories (including the seppuku detective one) that would be put together in one book. The work would be published under the name “Seiryoin Ryusui” and—on Yasha’s request—called 19box in memory of Juku, whose DOLL nickname was Jukebox. [19box or Juke Box is an actual book by Seiryoin that indeed contains the seppuku detective story.]

On June 6th, Yuiga Dokuson fled JDC leaving a confession about being the Billion Killer. It’s now been three weeks since his escape and still no new confirmed Billion Killer cases have happened. The Crime Olympics still continue, but at least everyone knows they will be over in two months.

--

All stories influence people, for better or for worse, and the story with the biggest, sharpest impact is the news. Then again, even entertainment has a major impact on people. The pen is mightier than the sword; the story is the strongest weapon. [Insert a horrible pun about how kakuheiki, “written weapon”, is as strong as kakuheiki, “nuclear weapon”.]

--

(...when Hikimiya Yuuya had been working with the AI Desert Colosseum in February, he found an unbelievable secret file.

Below is Hikimiya Yuuya’s testimony. [Originally in first person.])

Once Hikimiya got out of shock upon seeing the different numbers of daily deaths, he instantly went to the hospital to talk with Frau D (or at least went there as fast as he could in a wheelchair). Frau D only told him to show the file to DOLL’s leader Madame Alpha to get answers.

Madame said she hadn’t seen this particular file before, but she had known all along that the UN numbers were faked. Good thing Hikimiya didn’t tell anyone else about it—if he did, he’d probably be disappeared on his way back to DOLL. He accidentally got mixed into a matter bigger than just the UN; a shadow organization was at play here, and one misspoken sentence could possibly doom the human race.

Madame then told Hikimiya what her Zero Reasoning actually was. The Japanese word for “zero”, rei, happens to sound exactly like the word for “soul”. Madame’s ability was seeing and talking to ghosts. The difficult part of her reasoning was discerning whether or not the ghosts were telling her the truth.

Other people would find it hard to believe, but Madame knew best that the souls who helped her solve cases were certainly real. She purposefully stayed away from other people, as anyone being too close to her for a long time would also start seeing ghosts, including those who had died in less than pretty manners. Several people even landed in the hospital from shock.

The ability wasn’t perfect. Madame would have a problem talking to souls who spoke different languages. The world of ghosts was also pretty complicated and consisted of more than just nice, well-behaved souls (but it’d take too long to explain everything now). Thanks to her powers, Madame knew better than anyone how drastically the known history changed throughout the ages, true events replaced with fake stories so different from what the souls told her about their times. She was also aware that knowing the truth was not always a good thing.

Using her ability as a sort of a soul information network, Madame was able to learn many things about the Crime Olympics.

They say that Christopher Columbus kept two journals out of fear of being deemed insane by his crewmates: a fake one that everyone else could read freely, and a secret one talking about his true goals. The death count data files similarly used two kinds of information. The true one (what Hikimiya found) allowed the UN to grasp the real situation, and the fake one (the official stats) were displayed to the common man.

To explain why that was necessary, Madame told Hikimiya about the Cosmic Bomb—the Moon. The Bomb was set to fall on August 10th, but it wasn’t impossible that the enemy would drop it earlier if they felt threatened. It was in the world’s best interest to not interfere too much in their plans—to make them think four million people really died each day—before a good way to counter the Cosmic Bomb was established.

As for how Frau D got his hands on secret data, Madame thought the reason was very simple: Frau D was one of RISE’s Dogs, probably responsible for leaking info from DOLL.

Right after this conversation, Hikimiya returned to the hospital for more answers. Frau D stated that Madame was smart enough to understand how to stay alive by keeping quiet. He confirmed that he was a Dog. However, the secret file was not meant for RISE at all, but for Hikimiya. That’s why the password was YUYA, and why the report was addressed to “Desert Colosseum”—once Hikimiya inherited the AI, he would become the next “Desert Colosseum”. The signature D meant Frau D and referred to his identity as a Dog (all of them are designated as D-[numbers], for example Frau is D-159837).

Hikimiya felt like there was something strange about Frau D’s demeanor during that conversation, and only realized a few days later—after the Crystal Nightmare—that the S-detective knew he would be killed soon.

But that wasn’t the last Hikimiya heard from Frau D, as Madame passed him a message from his soul. It was strange hearing Frau D so unusually serious (even if the words came from Madame’s mouth).

Frau D wanted to apologize. The whole “I love you” thing was just another one of his jokes, and he chose Hikimiya solely on the basis of his skills and ability to become the next Desert Colosseum. Thanks to Madame, he was never afraid of death. Aside from RISE, he also belonged to the suicidal sect of DICE, who were the ones to kill him in the end. “Desert Colosseum” was still indispensable to RISE—and that meant they would rely on whatever data Hikimiya would send them in the future.

After relaying the message, Madame commented that Frau D was actually a really serious man; you don’t become an S-detective by acting like a clown. She could speak with him easily so soon after his death, but making contact would get progressively harder with time, so Hikimiya should better become “Desert Colosseum” as soon as possible while he could still get ghostly tips.

It was the first time Hikimiya truly felt respect for Frau D. Though now that he thought about it, maybe even earlier he felt a sort of a strange, begrudging affinity.

On the day Frau D died, news came about Juku, Ronely Queen and Ushiwaka Gigolo. Juku’s death was especially hard on Hikimiya, considering they had worked as partners in the past. Then Firannu Meirunesia died a week later.

Hikimiya of course wanted to talk with the dead detectives, but Madame was so busy with all the cases she had no time to spare, and calling specific souls was hard—her work was mostly just waiting until someone with the right information came to her. Asked about Ryuuguu Jounosuke, she said that she’s sorry, but from what she could see he really was dead. At least she was able to assure Hikimiya that Otohime was still alive, held prisoner by RISE together with Amagi Hyouma and Tsukumo Nemu.

The day Frau D was killed, Hikimiya found a new entry in the database that belonged to a fake F-detective, “Flower Design”. [At least I think that’s the right romanization for that]. Frau must have made that fake detective so Hikimiya could hide behind the identity and obtain information safely. It was hard to work a double job as both “Hikimiya Yuuya” and “Flower Design” behind the scenes, but the exhausting training under Frau turned out to have been a blessing in disguise.

Hikimiya analyzed the death count reports (which by this point reached early March) and found that while in the big picture the number of deaths rose steadily, it actually came in waves. Doing some statistical magic, Hikimiya realized that the death rate usually fell a bit during weekdays, but then rose significantly on each Sunday—right after the Billion Killer cases. Step back, two steps forward… It’s like the Billion Killer served as a periodic impulse that kept the Crime Olympics going. The Crystal Nightmare caused an especially high rise in victims, too.

Hikimiya made some calculations. The numbers were at first much lower than the proclaimed “four million deaths a day”, but if the growth continued, it would lead to a bigger overall number of deaths.

Constant four million a day would give 1,4 billion total deaths in an entire year.

But if the numbers continued to rise, the final figure would instead be 3,7 billion, more than half the world’s population—assuming the Cosmic Bomb wouldn’t kill everyone else.

--

FORTY-SIX

21 Jun 1997 — 27 Jun 1997

MOHENJO-DARO

--

(It was once thought that alchemy could produce homunculi in bottles.

Black Rook is a human obtained through cloning, a three years younger identical twin of Ryuuguu Jounosuke, with whom he shared this name. Yearning for an identity of his own, Black called himself Ryuuou.

RISE had the cloning technology long before his birth, but didn’t see a reason to use it, as getting normal imposters was much easier. They say that everyone has at least three perfect look-alikes in the world—RISE had no problem finding those three with their omnipresent reach.

The truth is that the original Jounosuke was supposed to become Black Rook at first, but RISE made a critical mistake while raising him. In the end, the clone achieved what the original couldn’t and became Black Rook.

Below is Black Rook’s testimony. [Originally in first person. As expected, he might be… biased.])

From what Black heard, his older brother had travelled all over the world with their parents as a young child in order to naturally pick up native accents of many languages. He was successful at this goal, but in the process he became so used to the outside world that he couldn’t stand the dim closed spaces of the Sanctuary (which was back then still under construction), even showing signs of serious childhood claustrophobia. He was constantly upset and kept crying no matter how long RISE tried getting him used to his new life. Childhood claustrophobia sometimes vanished with age, but there was no guarantee it would happen.

In the face of this, the Doctor decided to start anew and cloned the boy, and so Black was born. To avoid past mistakes, RISE made sure he got used to the Sanctuary since birth, the fortress transporting him to all those different countries and essentially becoming his home. Staying in the Sanctuary instead of with foreigners led to him not quite reaching the language mastery of his brother, but the difference was marginal and didn’t really matter.

When RS became the leader of RISE in 1987, Black formally inherited the position of the Sanctuary’s Master from his father Kintarou. Similarly, Endou Naoto became the next Doctor / White Rook after his father Naomasa.

RISE continued to fight their long battle. Black didn’t really understand if there was an objective good or wrong, but he knew for sure that the Beasts wanted to destroy the human race, and RISE’s Gods wanted it to continue in whatever shape. A battle between good and evil.

Their greatest enemy was a secret group called Akutou 666 Rengou (lit. “the 666 villains union”), known in short as Akuren. It was much older than RISE and had been threatening humanity for thousands of years.

Akuren was a worldwide information network created by the 666 most evil people of the world, all their names written down on a secret Luck Black List. Aside from the top 666, there were also two lower “replacement groups”, each also counting 666 members, so 1998 in all. Those who died or were arrested would be erased from the list, though one could always get on it again later. Note that the first group members were too skilled to be eliminated from the list unless they died.

All the historical villains one may have heard of—like Nero, Catherine de’ Medici, Ivan the Terrible, Rasputin, Aleister Crowley, even Hitler—all reached no higher than the second group of Akuren. Those in the first group are all untraceable and take care to erase their pasts, only their horrible impact on the world hinting at their existence, their true nature that of pure evil beyond imagination (Black doesn’t even want to think about the stories he heard).

Akuren categorizes all people on Earth into thirteen tiers of evil, starting from 1 (those unwittingly doing everyday evil), going through those who commit crimes as part of a company policy or “usual” criminals (4-5), through famous organized crime (6), through those with political power (7), through country elites with even more influence (8), through secret organizations ruling those elites (9), through the evil that controls the history of humanity (10), the first group of Akuren (11), the few members of Akuren that have transcended the concept of pure evil (12), and the “ultimate organization of extreme pure evil” (13).

Upstanding citizens are classified as tier 1 (it’s impossible to be lower, as every single human eventually hurts another human, if only by existing). Tier 10 would include Akuren’s first group and half of the second group, together 999 people. Tier 11 would apply only to the first group; they’re so strong that an S-detective could maybe manage one or two of them at once, but not several, and certainly not 666. Tier 12 are those from the first group that aim for even more evil and want to throw the world into darkness. Tier 13 is so secret that even RISE can’t get any information about it, more suspecting their presence than knowing for sure.

The members of every group of Akuren are numbered from 001 to 666, with those numbers moving if someone falls off the list. Number 001 is always the person who stayed in a group the longest, while those from lower groups will enter a higher group starting from 666. Groups two and three have to provide information for the network, but those who already rose to group one are privileged and can simply get data without having to give any in exchange.

Akuren attempted to wipe out the human race many times before, their crimes usually showing as wars on the surface. The Persian Wars, the Peloponnesian War, Alexander the Great’s conquest, the Seven Years’ War, the Hundred Years’ War, various Prussia wars, the Russo-Japanese War, both World Wars, the Cold War…

After WWII, the 12th tier of evil first showed itself, possibly with the 13th one right behind them, and the most serious plan to destroy humanity (including themselves) had been in progress ever since. Their twisted reasoning is basically, “everyone has to die one day, and when I die, the world may as well not exist for me, so why not bring everyone else down with me while we’re at it”.

The current Crime Olympics were conceived as yet another of Akuren’s plans to destroy humanity. RISE was created to gain control over this plan in order to prevent the ultimate tragedy and limit the damage as much as possible. Of course on the surface they still had to act like they’re cooperating with Akuren, and so had to put the Crime Olympics into motion like they were supposed to.

Akuren acted like they didn’t notice their true enemy, but considering the quality of their information network, they had to already know about RISE’s goals. However, RISE was too useful to get rid of it so quickly. Fifty years of preparations passed in a pretend cooperation between the two organizations. RISE has three trump cards in their deck: Alive, the Billion Killer, and the Cosmic Bomb.

RISE’s true goal was purging evil at the root for the sake of humanity’s survival. If they left Akuren alive, it would just lead to another attempt at total destruction in the future. RISE had already succeeded at using the Crime Olympics to kill the lesser ranks of evil in droves, even though it cost a lot of other lives and the true malicious elites were still staying safely hidden. If RISE didn’t kill off those elites before August 10th, the Cosmic Bomb would fall.

Those “worst of the worst” were called Pure Ultimate Beasts. The purest evil often wore the masks of saints; they truly were beasts disguised as humans, creatures that would kill with a smile. The first group of Akuren was too careful to be easily led into a trap, so RISE had to start with eliminating the lower groups and make their way up.

All the above was a very rushed explanation, but the gist of it is that humanity is in a horrible spot. If they don’t do anything, the Cosmic Bomb will fall; if they try to fight openly, perhaps the Bomb will just fall faster. The fate of humanity is in the hands of RISE—of Black Rook.

...but Black feels a bit weird those days, like something is very wrong with him. Perhaps it’s just a lingering symptom of Alive... or perhaps he’d been caught into Akuren’s trap? Something feels wrong. With the Sanctuary, with RISE and with himself. Something is strange. He’s supposed to stop the Cosmic Bomb, and has been for sure making preparations, but now he can’t remember how to do it, as if he simply forgot something so important. He can’t remember… What the hell happened to him? What the hell is going on? It’s like he’s not himself.

Has he also been brainwashed…?

[End of testimony.]

--

Writer detective XX continues to write. He feels a strange compulsion to do it, a sense of mission, almost like someone is forcing him to write. Sometimes he wonders if he hasn’t been brainwashed.

--

FORTY-SEVEN

28 Jun 1997 — 04 Jul 1997

HONG KONG

--

Writing as “Seiryoin Ryusui” is weird to XX, like wearing someone else’s clothes. He’s been feeling like he isn’t truly himself. But if it’s so weird to him, why does he simultaneously have the compulsion to not just continue writing, but to write as “Seiryoin Ryusui” specifically? Nothing else changed. It’s just that whenever he works as “Seiryoin”, he ceases to be himself. Almost like someone else is guiding his hands, like he’s only the first reader instead of the writer.

Inugami Yasha wants XX to write a book about the Crime Olympic as soon as possible. Yasha’s plan is to use the power of stories positively, to light up at least some of the darkness surrounding them.

No one is faster to rise to fame in mass media than the worst criminals caught red-handed. “Seiryoin Ryusui” wasn’t that popular, but his name is still spread around because of the Cosmic Jokers case, so releasing a book under the same name will gather the world’s attention. This will possibly allow them to lure out the actual mysterious “Seiryoin Ryusui”. The book will be technically fiction, just like Cosmic and Joker, but will give readers enough clues that maybe someone solves the still unfinished mysteries, or gets to the actual truth behind something that has been considered solved.

To be honest, XX hates the writing style in Cosmic and Joker. It just seems bad and unbalanced to him. Strong J Outa the editor thinks it’s because XX has a similar writing style, so reading “Seiryoin” feels to him like reading his own old works, which is rarely a good experience for a writer. The important thing is keeping that unbalanced style while writing about the Crime Olympics.

Languages, just like anything else created by people, aren’t perfect. No matter how much one tries, a recording of events will never be perfect specifically because of the nature of words. Even non-fiction is fiction in the end. Words on their own aren’t the truth, but the moment someone encounters someone else’s words, they may read out the truth between the lines—which is what Yasha hopes for by releasing the Crime Olympics book.

(By the way, it’s been a month since Dokuson disappeared, and not a single Billion Killer case has happened in the meanwhile. There were giant cases happening at 1 PM local time on Saturdays, true, but no symbolic skull has been found.)

XX still can’t get rid of his strange feelings. It’s almost like there’s someone else within him, “the true writer”, perhaps even “the true culprit”. Strong J Outa dismisses these worries and says that in a sense, the mystery writer is always the real culprit manipulating the characters. A mystery novel is not as much a showdown between a detective and a murderer, as a showdown between the writer and the reader. The challenge is not just solving a mystery, but also solving the writer’s intent put in his work.

The idea of the writer as the culprit is sort of a taboo that everyone knows about, but that isn’t really relevant inside mystery novels by design. All fiction is real as far as the world within that fiction is concerned. There’s no reason to escape into delusions about a writer making all this happen; instead XX should focus on writing and fighting crime this way.

19box is set to be finally released on July 5th.

--

(And in the latest news...)

On June 14th, the entire island of Tasmania suddenly moves towards mainland Australia and smashes into it, resulting in 100,000 dead or injured and several small islands sinking. Right afterwards Tasmania returns to its proper place. How all this happened is a mystery.

On June 21st, about a hundred tourists visiting Mohenjo-daro in Pakistan are found naked and dead. The cause of death is unknown, but the incident is thought to have been influenced by the Carnival Dice cult.

On June 28th, all the power lines of Hong Kong are suddenly cut, leading to a complete power outage. Massive fires start in the aftermath. Giant playing cards are found around the place, so the group F4C is suspected. The situation becomes so bad it leads to political shifts and Hong Kong being completely returned to China.

--

On July 5th, a mysterious continent surfaces from the depths of the Pacific, so unimaginably huge that it takes half the ocean’s area. The continent’s sudden movement causes kilometer-tall tsunamis to rush towards other lands. It’s only a matter of time until the record waves reach the shores and destroy anything in their path.

Japan has twelve hours to prepare for the wave.

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

#sparkly reads carnival day #maijo and jdc stuff

[igrublocal]

The Takeout’s fantasy food draft: Best pumpkin spice items

Takeout DraftTakeout DraftFood. Fantasy sports. Debating over Slack. Welcome to The Takeout Draft.

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Every week, we will select a topic of conversation from the food and drink world. Takeout writers will then field a team via the snake draft format. After five rounds, The Takeout commenteriat will vote on who they believe was victorious in that week’s draft. At the end of 2020, the staffer with the most weekly victories will select a charity of his/her choice that The Takeout will make a donation toward. (The 2019 victor, Kate Bernot, selected the U.S. Bartenders’ Guild National Charity Foundation.)

The previous  drew many passionate voters who were more than ready to reminisce about summers past. After a tight race throughout the first day of votes, Aimee Levitt pulled ahead and scored a well-earned victory with expert picks like garlic fries and lemon slushie (as well as an unexpected swerve toward lobster rolls in the final round). Congrats, Aimee!

This week’s draft is nothing if not seasonal, and it’s equally likely to delight and disgust you: Best pumpkin spice items. Is this a joke? Maybe. Are we about to take our Draft duties very, very seriously? Absolutely.

G/O Media may get a commission

Now let’s cozy up to fall’s coziest flavor.

Marnie: Okay, let’s kick it off with the acknowledgment that Aimee winning the Best Ballpark Food draft is appropriate, since she’s the biggest (only?) baseball fan of the three of us.

Allison: Everybody loves hot dogs.

Marnie: And garlic fries. This Draft will be tough to win people over with. But Allison’s got first crack at it.

Allison: Wait... I have the first pick? I can’t remember the last time this happened! I’m so overwhelmed!

Marnie: Use it wisely

Allison: Alright, so obviously my first pick has to be the iconic pumpkin spice latte. It’s the crossover item that made us a pumpkin-crazy nation.

Marnie: OF COURSE

Allison: Once upon a time, back in the Dark Ages, coffee and pie were two entirely separate things. No one had dreamed they could be together in one cup.

It changed the way we see everything. There would be no Cronut without pumpkin spice lattes. No sushi burritos. Why have one when you can have both?

Marnie: Do you think its popularity is deserved?

Allison: I am a devoted black coffee drinker, and I still get a PSL whenever the first crisp day of fall arrives, and one on Thanksgiving morning.

Allison: I don’t know how anyone could drink them regularly, but they’re a nice treat. And, nowadays, a good reason to get out of the house.

Going out to get a PSL is not an errand. It’s an event.

You need a special outfit that includes a soft sweater, and maybe a scarf. You need to inform everyone you know on social media before, during, and after.

Marnie: That would have been my first pick too. So now I’m in a lurch. But I’ll say Pumpkin Spice Tea. Because we always talk about how it’s really just spices like clove and nutmeg and cinnamon, and those are nice in a warm drink beyond coffee.

This photo of a cheese-stuffed pumpkin in Always Add Lemon is enough to make you kick yourself for…

Allison: You know, I don’t know if I’ve ever tried this. How does it differ from chai?

Marnie: It’s probably just like any number of other warm spiced teas, just with pumpkiny marketing. But Trader Joe’s “Pumpkin Spice Rooibos” tin is adorable, dammit!

Aimee: Of course it is.

Marnie: I fall for it every time. And it’s not as sweet as a PSL.

Aimee: Well, few things are. But maybe if you dumped in a few tablespoons of sugar?

Allison: Or actual pumpkin...

Aimee: That would spoil it! It’s about the SPICE!

Allison: What about blending pumpkin with maple syrup, and putting a spoonful of that in your tea?

Aimee: Huh. That could either be really good or amazingly terrible.

Marnie: TBD.... First pick, Aimee?

Aimee: Pumpkin bread!

Marnie: Oh damn, of course

Allison: There has never been a day where a pumpkin bread has been in front of me and I didn’t eat the whole thing.

Aimee: I especially love the recipe in Joy of Cooking. It’s sweet and spicy and perfect.

Marnie: The “spicy” makes all the difference. I think it should make your nose wrinkle a little.

Aimee: But I also love the pumpkin challah in . I made a couple last week and they make the best French toast.

Allison: I used to make a pumpkin brioche and use it to make bread pudding. It was pretty damn amazing.

Marnie: You were born for this draft

Aimee: I was actually torn between waffles and pancakes, but I love waffles more, so that’s what I’m going with.

Allison: I have not had these either, and am wondering how these particular waffles have been pumpkin spiced.

Is there pumpkin in the batter? Poured on top?

Aimee: In the batter, and mixed with the ginger, cinnamon, and cloves.

Marnie: Does it need cream cheese drizzle on top to really sing?

Aimee: Oooooh, yes, that’s genius!

Allison: I’m thinking of the recipe I did last year for butternut squash pavlova, but making the topping with pumpkin and putting it on a stack of Belgian waffles.

Marnie: Aimee’s double whammy of delicious pumpkin spice carbs has me reeling. How can my second pick compete?

Aimee: I believe in you!

Marnie: I will say pumpkin spice Cheerios. Getting to drink pumpkin spice cereal milk is a lovely way to start the day.

And it’s a nice contrast with all the hot pumpkin spice stuff we usually eat and drink

Allison: Oh GODDAMNIT that was my pick!

Marnie: HA!

Allison: I was apprehensive about buying that, but I had to because of the pumpkin spice bet I have with my husband. When we tried them, the Cheerios made the milk taste like pumpkin pie custard.

Allison: We bought like 20 boxes so we could enjoy them all winter. It was a fine decision.

Marnie: Allison, what’ll you choose now that I’ve swooped into the cereal space?

Allison: I’m going to take pumpkin spice ice cream, much for the reason you picked the Cheerios—it’s a nice cold option, in contrast to the PSL and so many other pumpkin spice’d foods.

Aimee: With caramel sauce and lots of whipped cream! Maybe pecans?

Marnie: Ooo, any particular brand?

Allison: Remember those Talenti layer things I love? They’ve got a pumpkin pie one now with pie crust and stuff.

Marnie: DAMN I want to try that

Allison: What’s also nice: we’re all so ready for fall the second Labor Day is over, but it’s still hot. And even though it’s hot, I’m STILL wearing a cute jacket outside, out of principle.

Marnie: True. We need pumpkiny items for the last legs of summer

Aimee: With the hot sun of summer but the cool breeze of fall...

Allison: I anticipate eating a LOT of ice cream over the next five weeks or so.

Next up: pumpkin pie toaster strudel. You can debate the need for pumpkin spice-anything all you want, but when you see pumpkin toaster strudel, it’s like “this makes perfect sense”

There’s nothing to quibble about. It’s a thing, and it should be a thing.

Aimee: This is true. It’s like a pie.

Allison: If anything, the pumpkin spice latte walked so that pumpkin spice toaster strudel could run.

Aimee: That’s beautiful. Brought a tear to my eye. (Pumpkin spiced tear, of course.)

Marnie: Only major downside of toaster strudel is that you absolutely have to warm it, whereas a Pop-Tart is flexible and can be eaten room temp. But a warm toaster strudel really is amazing

Allison: What I don’t like about pumpkin Pop Tarts is that they should be better. It’s like, if Pop Tarts respected us, it could be amazing. But they don’t. They phone it in.

Aimee: I feel that way about most Pop Tarts.

Marnie: Okay, my third pick might be....controversial. But hear me out: pumpkin pie

Aimee: Ha ha!

Marnie: The original pumpkin spice item

Aimee: It’s true! It’s so obvious, no one even thinks of it anymore. Someone should call it pumpkin spice pie.

Allison: Pumpkin pie is one of my favorite “bed pies.” Have I told you about that concept?

Marnie: Sounds self-explanatory

Allison: I wrote about it a few years ago. It’s essentially a family bonding experience where we all stay in bed and eat an entire pie together from the pan while watching old cartoons, like Garfield’s Halloween and Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. Pumpkin is ideal for this.

Allison: The filling isn’t going to plop out all over the sheets. And the crust isn’t ultra crumbly

Aimee: Ah, yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have bits of fruit falling all over the sheets.

Allison: If made well, you can pick up a slice of pumpkin pie and eat it with your hands. Just like pizza (non-folded, of course). I very much encourage both of you to try this.

Aimee: And you can squirt the whipped cream directly into your mouth. No mess!

Allison: You understand me, Levitt!

Marnie: AIMEE

Aimee: Rolled in lots of cinnamon sugar.

Marnie: STOP TAKING THE GOOD THINGS WHILE I FAIL TO THINK OF THEM

THAT’S....CHEATING, SOMEHOW

Allison: I have not had a good doughnut in a while, and now it’s all I can think about.

Marnie: So just to be clear, we’re not talking about a filled doughnut

More like a cider doughnut, but pumpkinified?

Aimee: Well, I suppose you could... but yes, I was thinking of the cakey doughnuts. I love cider doughnuts so much.

Marnie: Yes please

Aimee: Oh, yes. With a variation for the stove!

Allison: Here’s your variation for the stove: fry it in hot oil just like any other doughnut. There ya go.

Aimee: My next pick is pumpkin spice oatmeal. With lots of brown sugar.

Marnie: Interesting—does it come in that flavor or do you add the spices to make it that way?

Aimee: Quaker does make that flavor, but I’ll bet you could just add the pumpkin spice if you want to do homemade.

My philosophy is that anything that tastes good with cinnamon would also taste good with pumpkin spice.

Marnie: Yes, I can’t imagine anyone being all in on cinnamon but out on nutmeg. Cloves? Mayyyyybe divisive. But it all seems to speak to the same palate

Aimee: Warming spices!

Allison: And it’s coldest in the morning! This is science.

Marnie: How does the pumpkin factor in if you make it yourself? Pumpkin puree right in there with the oats?

Aimee: The beauty of pumpkin spice is that there doesn’t have to be pumpkin. Only spice: the blend of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, allspice, and cloves.

Allison: Yup! You can just stir it right in, with a bit of spice, and maybe some maple syrup to sweeten.

Marnie: I’m going to try to court the CPG crowd with a busy, on-the-go pumpkin spice item: the Spiced Pumpkin Pie CLIF Bar

Allison: Never eaten this! I had a Clif bar once in the early 2000s, and that was the end of that.

Marnie: Yeah, you either love them or hate them. I love that they actually feel substantial, like you just had breakfast. Regular granola bars never make me feel that way. And the Pumpkin Pie CLIF Bar comes with a drizzle of icing that, in my opinion, could stand to be paired with a lot more pumpkin spice items.

Pairs great with coffee! People are going to hate me for this but it’s my truth!

Aimee: That’s fine. You have every right to it.

Marnie: Aimee, do you have a firm stance on CLIF bars?

Aimee: I do not because I’ve never had one.

Marnie: I somehow think you’d despise them.

Aimee: I think so, too, which is why I’ve never had one.

Marnie: Last two picks, Allison!

Allison: Alright — my fourth pick is pumpkin butter. What makes this so great is it has the power to make anything into pumpkin spice.

Marnie: Here’s my question with pumpkin butter: what does it work best on? I can never figure out what to apply it to

Allison: You can stir a spoonful into your oatmeal, or put it on ice cream, or into your coffee or tea. Literally anything.

Warm milk! Pancakes! Toast!

Serve it with pork chops, smear it on cookies or graham crackers.

Marnie: Has an application ever failed spectacularly??

Aimee: This is like the shrimp scene in Forrest Gump.

Allison: ^^^and shrimp is a bad place to use apple butter.

But if you don’t know how to restrain yourself when feeding yourself pumpkin butter you should just stop cooking. Let other people do it for you. You can’t be trusted.

Allison: Very! I shared my super-easy apple butter recipe here last fall. You can do that with cubed pumpkin, or canned. As always, just keep an eye on things, because it’s all visual cues on that one. The line between apples and pumpkins in fall desserts is very thin.

I don’t believe that apple butter needs to be a fussy, complicated thing to make. You shouldn’t…

Marnie: That’s a good utility pick and I feel like the voters will reward you for it.

Unless you mess it all up on the last pick.....

Allison: Don’t think I am, because I’m reaching into my personal back catalog again and going with . You know me and pudding.

Marnie: Picking your OWN RECIPE on the final round is A POWER MOVE

Allison: Damn straight it is.

Marnie: I begrudgingly respect this decision

Please tell us what makes it a worthy pick, for those of us who haven’t tasted its majesty yet

Allison: Pumpkin pudding is much creamier and luxurious than pie! And easier to make, in a way. You don’t need to fuss with the oven, and don’t need to worry about making a pie crust. I make a pie crust better than anyone, and honestly do enjoy the process, but it adds a good amount of time to the process.

Sometimes you’re okay with waiting a few hours for pie. And sometimes you’re like “I want pumpkin something within the hour,” and this is what can get you there.

Marnie: A shortcut to immediate pumpkin spice intake is key

Allison: Exactly. There’s a ton of variables I consider when coming up with recipes.

One of them being “how long do I have to wait before I eat this dessert”

Aimee: That’s always an important one.

Marnie: Sometimes you don’t need to consider cook time at all. Because sometimes the thing you want is not edible in the least. Folks, my last pick is a pumpkin spice candle. To make EVERY room in the house smell delicious, not just the kitchen!

Aimee: Ha ha!

Marnie: It is a far-reaching, long-lasting pumpkin spice item. Perhaps the most cost-effective, too.

Aimee: AND if you don’t like pumpkin, it’s still mostly a pleasurable experience.

Marnie: A signal of the changing seasons! Coziness incarnate. People of all palates can agree on smells, can’t they?

Allison: I believe I have at least ten of these in my house right now.

Even if it’s not fall outside, it can be fall inside, whenever you damn well please. You guys need to try lighting up one of those bad boys in April and see how that changes you.

Aimee: As long as they’re not those cinnamon brooms. I don’t know why, but they annoy the crap out of me.

Allison: What are these cinnamon brooms? Another midwest thing?

Aimee: They sell them at Trader Joe’s. They’re in the front where you first walk in, with the pumpkins and the plants, so you can’t avoid them.

Marnie: They look sort of sinister

Aimee: Exactly. They’d be good for witches, but they smell like cinnamon which is somehow not exactly witchy.

Anyway, last pick goes to Aimee! What’s it gonna be?

Aimee: My last pick is... pumpkin spice cotton candy. Mostly because I would really like to find out if you can taste the spices.

Marnie: Does.....does it exist outside of your mind?

This is the first time I’ve really thought about cotton candy having a flavor. Isn’t it usually just sugar, in technicolor?

Allison: I do not like cotton candy, and yet I want to try this.

Aimee: Once I tried a rosé cotton candy and it tasted like rosé if you did the taste equivalent of squinting.

These people are geniuses!

Marnie: I’m excited to let this Takeout Draft loose upon the world.

Aimee: Because no one is tired of pumpkin spice yet!

Who won this week’s Takeout Draft? Vote in the comments.

[hazinhoodies]

No Love Lost (Part 1)

Harrison Osterfield x CF!Reader

A/N: uh hi. so this is a lot. this was going to be a one-shot originally but then it hit 15k words so here’s some of that. I did as much research into cystic fibrosis as i could (thats what cf means btw). Thanks to @loverholland who helped me edit this (and future parts). Also this is my submission for @starksparker summer writing challenge. I had the prompt of “I know you. What’s wrong” and its used pretty bad but this will make up for it hopefully. its a whole mess of aus. there some fuck boy in there, some best friend. brace for impact.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: talk of death, talk of hospitals, talk of sickness, swearing,  messing with tenses, a ridiculous amount of parentheticals (yes they’re supposed to be there), cheesy writing

Harrison was sweet. You had to admit it. One of the nicest people you’d ever come by. He was your best friend all throughout school, he stuck by you through all the coughing fits, your plethora of medicines, and the multiple times you’d caught bronchitis or something along those lines, not to mention all the other things that come with being a teen in high school; drama, puberty, stress. You were insanely thankful that he put up with all his own problems as well as yours, health or otherwise, and everything that came with having cystic fibrosis.

You were diagnosed at five, after the third time you’d caught pneumonia. Most people are diagnosed before the age of two but either a) you weren’t screened for it at birth or b) your doctors missed something. Just your luck.

You didn’t really know what it meant at first. Just that now you had to take these medicines, pills, and use inhalers (which hurt on bad days). Your favourite part was always the gummy vitamin that you had to -no, got to- take. You heard your mom talking about how important it was that you cleared your airway every day and that you did some of, if not all, the exercise the doctors wanted you to take. They made your lungs burn.

Your mother, however, felt guilty. She blamed herself for your sickness, but her guilt was helping no one affected. She should’ve known that you were growing too slowly and that your breathing problems weren’t normal. She feels horrible.

But if she had and you’d been diagnosed earlier or later or exactly when you were, you would still have cystic fibrosis.

You started to understand what it was at the age of eleven after you’d decided to research it yourself. You knew better than to WebMD it. Long since being diagnosed, you weren’t looking for a cure, just an understanding of what this meant for you.

You found out too much. Things that you were certain a normal 11 year old wouldn’t know about. But you weren’t normal. Anything but.

You found out that the average person with cystic fibrosis died at the age of 37, it’s most common in Northern Europe and least common in Africans and Asians. Although not recognized until the 1930s, certain aspects of cystic fibrosis were identified as early as 3,000 BC, likely due to the migration of people, gene mutations and nourishment. One in Four people have cystic fibrosis. About eighty percent of people with cystic fibrosis die from it. There’s no known cure, if there is one at all.

Your first (and only, so far) double lung transplant happened about a year later. You remember the feeling of knowing something was wrong too vividly. Headed down the stairs, your twelve year old self had already run through your extensive morning routine but you couldn’t shake the feeling of something caught in your lungs. You had to breathe through your mouth to feel like you were getting anywhere near enough oxygen.

“Have you cleared your airways yet” Your mother had asked upon hearing how rough your voice sounded when combined with how much your chest heaved when you breathed. You nodded and she asked you to go to it again. It was on your way back down the steps when it had become instantly more difficult to breathe. Calling for your mom, your voice was weak and wheezed its way through the words. It felt like you were suffocating. You gripped the stair railing tight in your hand as you felt your vision start to tunnel. With whatever luck you still had, you made it to the bottom of the stairs without collapsing and she rushed you to the hospital.

You don’t know what they did to make it better temporarily but you remember being hooked up to all sorts of antibiotics to slow the mucus build up while they found a pair of lungs for you. A month later and they had found a pair. You spent the next while in the hospital from the surgery while the doctors monitored you.

Lung transplants either work or they don’t. There’s no in between. No ‘it works but could be better’. They do, or they don’t.

Your mother would tell you when you were older that yours almost didn’t work. You almost didn’t wake up, but you wouldn’t remember any of it when she told you so.

You were overjoyed when you got to go back to school, you knew you weren’t healed, you still had cystic fibrosis, but you were doing better. That’s when you met Harrison.

With Harrison, you felt like you could be somewhat. He didn’t know about your CF at the time, you held it back to not drive him away. You suppressed coughs as much as you could. He was good though. A good person, a kind soul. So good that when you were with him, you were normal. You felt like a normal kid. You forgot about the multiple inhalers that sat on the bathroom counter and the bottles of pills next to them. You forgot about the doctors, and your enzymes or lack thereof. With Harrison, you forgot you were dying.

He started to get curious when you were missing school a lot and played it off as a cold when you would cough a lot at one time, but Harrison isn’t an idiot and you’re his friend; he knew something was up.

So you told him. You told him you had cystic fibrosis. He seemed confused so you continued on. You explained that while it also affects your pancreas, intestines, and kidneys, it meant your lungs were weak and prone to infection. Mucus builds up inside your lungs and other parts of your respiratory system. You told him that if your lungs get worse then you’ll likely need a transplant.

He nodded along and promised that he understood but you knew he didn’t fully understand what it meant, just as you had.

You didn’t tell him you were dying.

Not then. Not at all.

He’d found out on his own that it meant you were dying. You never asked how. The pair of you were in your living room at the age of fourteen, in the middle of a game of Mario Party. The computer Boo was winning. You could tell that something was bothering him but weren’t sure if it was something to ask about, you did anyway.

“Haz? What’s bothering you?” You spoke as the Luigi on the screen moved 6 spaces.

“Nothing, I’m fine” He stared distantly towards the screen, it’s more likely he’s looking past it.

“And lying. I know you. What's wrong?" No response. "Harrison, tell me” You refused to press any buttons, letting the die on the screen roll above your characters head until he gave you an answer.

Harrison looked down into his lap, fumbling with some of the buttons on the remote. His voice comes out small and meek, “You’re dying”

“No, I’m not,” Some weird instinct told you to lie about it and protect his feelings, but the glimmer of hope he had when he looked at you made you wish that you hadn’t said that. “I mean, I am. But I’m not bad” You hesitate on ‘bad’, unsure of how you want to phrase things. You knew you had to be careful of what you say. “I’m not even on a transplant list yet,” His expression shifted to worry, “It’s a good thing” He somewhat relaxed. “It means that I’m managing it well. And I am. I take care of myself, take all the medication I need to. It’s a lot but I do it”

The look on his face made your heart go soft. Somewhere between worry and relief, happy and sad.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner” You whispered, your gaze falling to the floor. You felt bad about telling him, that’s for sure. But for once you wanted to be normal.

“It’s okay,” Harrison’s voice was almost as quiet as yours, the overly happy game music playing in the background (it really didn’t help with the mood). He looked over at you and your expression made his heartbreak. “Hey,” he grabbed your attention, “This doesn’t change anything. No love lost, yeah?”

You nodded. “What I meant is that you don’t have to worry about me” That was the end of it. You rolled a five.

The next few months saw a shift in your relationship. It’s not that you spent any less time together, quite the opposite actually. Harrison wanted to spend so much time with you, most of which consisted of the two of you doing anything either of you could think of. More games of Mario Party (you won more often, he’d say he let you but he definitely didn’t), going out for food, bowling, laser tag, you name it.

He also took care of you. No matter how much you said you didn’t need it and you didn’t want to bother him, you’d get text messages at the same time every day asking if you’d taken your enzymes, or cleared your airways, or if you were close to running out of anything.

Harrison was sweet. He was sweet to you and you couldn’t be more thankful.

High school came and the world watched on as the two of you grew closer than ever. He was there as soon as he could be whenever you were in the hospital and even if you weren’t, he was at your house or you were at his as much as you could be.

Looking back, you weren’t sure how you didn’t see it.

While you were still Harrison’s best friend, he spent time with a lot of other girls. You weren’t dumb. You saw the way they looked at him. Their looks were anything from ogling or as if he was the moon. Their never-ending night light. The one that lit up the dark for them.

It was cheesy and sometimes (usually) gross, but he never looked at them that way. Even while his arm was wrapped around them in the halls he was either making some joke towards you (you’d say he was bullying you, but you weren’t that hurt) or laughing at something someone else had said or done.

Every two weeks there was a different girl on his arm. It didn’t really make sense to you. He was so nice and caring towards you but then these girls that he claimed to have feelings for barely got a second glance from him.  Even still, part of you wanted to be in their position, if only for the title that came with it.

You fell in love with Harrison slowly. Like when you come home late and don’t want to wake anyone, so you shut the door precariously, even the small click after it’s shut is too loud. Or like waiting for a flower to grow. Checking on it until you saw the first sprout and then the first leaf.

Your sudden realization, your ‘click’, was when you’d heard one of the girls talking about him after they’d ended things. You weren't sure if you could call it a breakup, we’re they even official? Who knows.

Water ran from the tap in the bathroom as you washed your hands, you couldn’t help but listen to the conversation she was having on the far side of the room. It was whispered and sobbed but you still managed.

“What’d he say?” Her friend, you thought her name was Olivia, places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“He just said he didn’t feel anything for me anymore” Harrison ex-thing, her name was Erica, (she was one of the “you are the moon” starers) barely got out the last word before sobs racked her body, her upper body and torso shook forcefully with each one. She was really hurt. “Said that there was something about someone else. I don’t get it. It was three weeks how could there be someone else”.

If it was three weeks then why are you so worked up over it? You fought not to roll your eyes.

“Erica, I told you that he was a bad idea. I told you that he’d hurt you. And you still…” Olivia trailed off with a sigh. Some best friend.

“I don’t know. Maybe I thought I could change him or something. Fuck, I don’t know. He’ll always be a fuckboy I guess. Can’t wait to see who he’s got next week” Sarcasm drenched her words. She sniffled, wiping her eyes.

You dried off your hands and left the bathroom.

It hurts to hear people talk so horrendously about your best friend. That wasn’t the Harrison that you knew, the Harrison you knew was gentle and caring and wore his heart on his sleeve. What about you made him that different?

Harrison came over that night, you helped him with his English paper and then the two of you retreated to doing your own things on your phones. He laid on your bed and you used his stomach as a pillow, lying perpendicular to him. Your legs hung off the bed a little, but you didn’t care.

The room was silent for at least fifteen minutes with the exception of the odd chuckle followed by the other asking to look at whatever it was they laughed at. That was until you piped up. Your mindless scrolling only lasts so long before you fall into your own thoughts.

“Heard Erica talking about you in the bathroom today” You let your hand fall to your chest, phone facedown against your sternum. Harrison didn’t really talk about the girls he was involved with. At least not with you. You weren’t sure why but never pressed.

“Yeah? What’d she say?” His eyes didn’t leave his phone.

“She was talking to Olivia, I think it was Olivia. The one who sits next to Tom in English”

“Yeah, Olivia” Harrison confirmed.

“Yeah her. And she -Erica-  was saying about how you broke up with her and said that there was someone else. And then Olivia said something about how she warned her not to go for you because you’re a bad idea and you’d only hurt her and shit like that”  

“Sounds like Liv” Harrison chimes in.

“Then Erica said that she thought she could change you or something like that? I don’t know. It was just weird to hear them talk so bad about you when what I see is the polar opposite” You started your scrolling again.

“People talk Y/N. She was just upset I guess. That’s okay” You nodded and there was a moment of silence

“Just out of curiosity. Why do you go through girls so fast?”

“I just don’t feel anything with them really. I know what I want, and sadly it’s things that I don’t think they’d ever be able to give, or have, or be”

“What do you want?” Your question threw him off guard and he had to pause for a second.

“I want pure love. It’s not driven by lust. A kind of love where I don’t have to worry about what I look like or how I act around them because I know they’ll love me just the same. One where we have electric conversations one moment and then the next we’re in silence but it’s fine. Because it’s comfortable. I want to have a connection. I want the kind of love where you’d die for the other person. I’d die for a love like that. And it’s something that I don’t think I could get from Erica or Megan or Hannah. No matter how long we’re together”

“But you’re not even going to stick around long enough to see if there is all that with them?”

“No. I know it makes me sound like an asshole but I know what I want. I just have to wait until that love realizes what they want”

You thought for a moment. Maybe it made sense? In some weird, twisted, ‘i’m an asshole but don’t want you to think so’ sort of way. “Okay” You trailed off.

“Also we were only a thing for like three weeks why is she this upset”

“That’s what I thought!” The two of you laughed and settled back into a comfortable silence.

You’d since learned to trust what you knew about Harrison, disregarding parts of what was said that night. He was kind, and took care of you, and cared deeply about so many things. You knew about his reputation, but you didn’t care. He was your best friend, and what kind of friend would you be if you changed your opinion based on what other people said. Certainly better than ones who date the guy who broke your heart (*cough* Olivia, *cough cough*) The same one who warned you not to date him.

And sure enough, the following week, Olivia and Harrison were together.

Olivia was the longest he’d been with someone that you knew about. A whole eight weeks was a record for Harrison. It almost made you think that maybe he was capable of finding love on his own. And that made you happy. Happy for him.

Then there was that damn click. That fucking leaf. The one that made you sad when you saw them in the halls, her hand in his. The same one that made your stomach drop when he'd kiss her cheek before class.

Although his time never wavered with you, you couldn't help but wish it was you under his arm. With his lips against your skin.

High school ended, Harrison went on to drama school. It fit, he’d always been dramatic (haha very funny Y/N) but you were proud of him for pursuing his dream of acting. You’d gone onto university as well. Although the two of you didn’t see each other nearly as much, you were still his best friend, and him yours. The texts to take your meds had changed from whenever you had to take one to only every morning, and the two of you would talk that night.

June Twenty-Second. You’d finished all your exams two months ago. Still riding on the high of being a university graduate, you didn’t expect for it to drop so fast.

You were put on the transplant list your sophomore year of university. But you were getting worse, you’d moved up significantly since being put on. June Twenty-Second is when your doctor told you that if you couldn’t get one of the next few lungs, you’d be out of time.

When you’d discovered that you were dying when you were eleven, you struggled to cope with it. Slowly but surely, you’d learned to accept that you couldn’t live forever, and if you’d been asked a month ago how you felt about death, you know how you would have answered. You would have said that it’s a part of life. That every journey has its end. You would have said that no matter what you did you couldn’t change anything and you were okay with dying. Maybe it was your time.

But when your doctor finally, officially tells you that they don’t know if they'll get you a pair of lungs in time, one thing comes to mind.

I’m not ready for this.

Immediately followed by another thought.

Harrison

Tags:

haz tags:

@summernykole @hjosterfield @imagines-andshizz @thequeensardine @artemisiaarm @sincerelymlg @butithasntkilledyouyet @bitchymathematician @ixchel-9275 @honeyyhuggs @nedthegay @ohyouremymedicine @awkwardfangirl2014 @parkerpeterholland @screeching-student-unknown

@osterfieldholland01 @happymagicbee @headsup-itsmostlypeter @starlightfound @spideyyypeter @empressdreams @isabellyduh

Others who i think might enjoy or hate me for it (or already do)

@wazzupmrstark @parkerpuffwrites @parrkerspeters @nnatasha @lamptracker (really i just want you to read this)

#nllho #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield angst #harrsion osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield ff #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x you #haz osterfield #haz osterfield fluff #haz osterfield angst #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield ff #haz osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x you #kayleessummerwc

[alpacannot]

So, I’m finally getting around to rewriting my Reaper Saga books, with the newly renamed “Reaper”. The past, like, four times I’ve tried to rewrite this book, I’ve always stuck with the same general opening chapter, introducing Tris, her work, and the other characters fairly quickly, allowing them to talk about themselves. This time, I’ve tried for a slightly different approach, which I like more. It took me forever to write it though, partly because I’m rusty (I haven’t written anything fiction related since 2016) and partly because I just wanted to skip to the good stuff. It was tempting to just copy in the original prologue, but I’m super pleased with how this new first chapter is starting. It’s not done, and I haven’t proofed it yet, but I was so excited that I just had to share it. So, without further ado, here’s the first, unedited bit of “Reaper” chapter 1:

“Tristan Sieghard—for crimes against humanity and for exposing the Afterlife, we, the Highers and the Gatekeeper, sentence you to death and eternal damnation in the deepest pits of Hell.” The Highest’s voice echoed throughout the assembly hall as several Runners drug her away from the crowd gathered inside the seemingly far-too-small room. Alex avoided her gaze, his brows pinching together. She wanted to shout out, “You could have stopped this!”, but she knew that she had chosen this. It was her neglect that ultimately caused her downfall. But, at least she was brave enough to act, to seek out justice for their daughter. He was by far the worse parent, choosing to do nothing.

******

I awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright and drenched in sweat. The same nightmare haunted me, the screeching of tires across asphalt ringing in my ears. My throat was raw from screaming. Glancing to my right, three blinking red numbers drilled into my eyes—4:27 a.m. “Fantastic,” I muttered, dragging myself out of bed and untangling the mess of slightly damp covers from around my legs. My mouth was dry, and my tongue felt like lead. Scrubbing the sleep from my eyes, I forced myself into the shower, letting the scalding water beat against my back. No pain was enough to drag me into reality though. I sat there, dead to the world, until the water ran cold, after which I pushed myself up and out.

I coiled my curls on top of my head, giving up on looking presentable. The dark bags under my eyes said what my mouth couldn’t: I wasn’t well. I grimaced at my reflection, at my body’s betrayal. Stumbling towards my closet, my numb fingers clutched at my work clothes: black and white and garish red. I looked like a corpse every day, which was ironic considering I spent every working hour turning other people into corpses. As I fumbled with the buttons, I tried once again to desperately return to reality, but the memories clouded my eyes, refusing to let me escape.

Realizing that the day was already a loss but determined to earn my keep in some way, I gradually made my way to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee, and left my apartment. Locking my door presented everlasting problems for my still unresponsive hands, but I eventually managed to secure my door. Stopping to collect myself once more, I reveled in the silence of the hall. Still, my peace was short lived as the muffled sounds of music rang out from the adjacent apartment. I longed for the effortlessness with which PJ lived his carefree life. I knew that it hadn’t come easy to him—after all, he hadn’t always been this unburdened. He, too, had had his fair share of trauma and regrets. It seemed like everyone here did.

Trudging down the endless, blank hallways, I finally arrived at the front of my department. The room was virtually empty, save the night security guard, who was unsurprised to see me. He barely glanced up from his book, nodded in my direction, and continued reading. It wasn’t unusual for me to be in the office during the wee hours of the morning. The first few days, he was suspicious, but as the days turned into weeks, he stopped commenting on my odd hours. Always the first to arrive and the last to leave—not because I was an overachiever, but because work was safe. When I went home, my mind was cut lose, free to torment me.

I flicked on the lights, illuminating the long stretch of cubicles. Even during normal working hours, the desks were usually devoid of people—overflowing with paperwork, but not a single living soul in sight. I ruffled through the stack of reports on my desk, mostly reference files that had yet to be signed off and returned to the Keepers. Grabbing my pen, I began to furiously sign any remaining legal work, tucking the death certificates in the back of their respective manilla folders. Neatly stacking the completed files in the outgoing basket on my desk, I rang for a Runner and sat back as I waited for their arrival. As expected, they were waiting in front of my desk in a matter of seconds.

“Two Pink Card files today. The rest are all Blue Card.” The Runner nodded and whisked away the folders, disappearing from view in a flurry of fabric and papers. I ran a hand through the tangle of still-damp curls that had slowly begun their escape from the knot on the top of my head. Now what am I going to do? The new files won’t come in for another hour at least, I thought. As if on cue, Alex came striding through the glass doors.

“Another early day?” he asked, as if this wasn’t a common occurrence.

“Of course. Just like every other day.” With an unusual grace for someone so large, he sat on my now empty desk, folding his long legs. He took up the whole space, making my already cramped office even tinier. I had never felt more miniscule. His long, thin fingers tapped rhythmically on his biceps, drawing attention to the muscles there. If I didn’t know him better, I would have thought he was trying to intimidate me.

“What about you? What are you doing here so early, Alex?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You know, the usual. Pink Card Keepers never rest.”

I choked back a laugh, but it sounded like a strangled animal. “Are you kidding? Pink Cards only cover what Yellow and Blue Cards don’t, which has been like next to nothing these days.” His eyes tightened at the corners—I’d struck a nerve for sure. Just like that, he relaxed, returning to his usual joking self.

“Well, I was called in early this morning—two new Pink Card only files were brought in a few minutes ago. I wonder who could have sent them in?” I feigned innocence, but I felt bad for waking him up. I wasn’t sure why those files couldn’t wait until normal hours. I had just assumed that they’d wait on someone’s desk until everyone else clocked in.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t know they would wake you up for them—they’ve never done that before?”

“It’s fine. You know how anxious they are to get Pink Card work wrapped up, especially dangerous people like those two. The sooner the paperwork is done, the sooner HR can get them in Hell and away from all the innocent souls.” He paused, waiting for me to react, but my numb brain wasn’t truly processing anything. “Well, I better get to work then. Those files aren’t going to seal themselves.” With that, he turned to leave. At the double doors, he stopped, looked back, and winked at me before continuing on his way.

Hours later, other Reapers started filing in. Today’s files were brought by the Runners, although I’d barely noticed them. Honestly, the Runners were like phantoms—there one minute and gone the next. Opening the first packet, I skimmed over the list of humans I would be Reaping today: Bethany Jones—Blue Card, Amanda Howard—Blue Card, Lydia Ramirez—Yellow Card. The list went on and on. No one in particular stood out to me, and I grimaced—today’s Reaping wouldn’t take me but a few hours. I would be home alone with my thoughts for a majority of the work day.

PJ strode in, interrupting my stream of melancholy thoughts. His curly hair was slightly disheveled, a lazy smile on his face. “Whatcha’ think about today’s Reapings?” he asked.

PJ was in charge of assembling the list of Reapings and preparing the proper paperwork—as long as the files were within his level of clearance. PJ was relatively new to this work still, stagnating at Blue Card Keeper since graduation. Together with Chris, my designated Yellow Card Keeper, and Alex, PJ was my behind-the-scenes crew. On the off chance that I worked extended assignments on Earth, he got to read my reports and add them to that person’s file, but I hadn’t worked an extended assignment in years. In fact, I wasn’t sure PJ ever saw the other’s when prepping my work. During extended assignments, he would work closely with Chris, but I wasn’t sure the two had ever actually met before. In fact, I hardly ever saw Chris.

PJ snapped his fingers at me, drawing me from my internal monologue. “Are you listening? I asked what you thought about today’s Reapings.” I shook my head, forcing myself to focus.

“I’m a little bummed out actually. I don’t see anything that will keep me working for very long today, so I’ll be going home early. Which I know sounds great to you considering you’ll be here late working on the files because almost all of them are Blue Card, but it’s a real downer for me,” I explained when I saw him opening his mouth to protest. He grinned at me.

“You owe me. Dinner tonight. Your place. I want to talk to you about this new guy I met the other day!”

“If it’s a new love interest, I’d love to hear about it, although I’m a little miffed about cooking. However, since it’s a short day for me, I suppose I can make dinner tonight. Now get out of here—I have work to do, and so do you.” I playfully swatted at him. PJ always brought out the best in me and made it easier for me to shake off my early morning melancholy.

“See you tonight!” he called out as he all but skipped through the doors.

[yoshimickster]

What I feel would’ve improved StarVS(part two of a few)

Hey, its Mick again, how hangs it? Its weird that I’m both criticizing a show I still somewhat like, as WELL as giving off a list of things that I feel would improve it BEFORE its finale, but I feel its still worth talking about. Today I’m gonna talk about the forgotten Los Angeles suburb that we all miss-

-Echo Creek, settled on the battlefield of a massive opossum war, this charming town is composed of several gi-GANTIC hills that people thought putting houses on was a good idea because its Los Angeles. With that, I’m going to point out all the forgotten characters in the show, and how they could’ve EASILY stayed in the show, or how they could’ve been improved while they were still there. 

FIRST OFF-

-Ferguson and Alphonso. Many wondered where the HELL they went in season 2 after having prominent roles as side characters in season 1. The answer is that they were BANISHED due to the creators being able to write more of the original story they WANTED to write, that never featured them. As you may or may not  know, Alphonso and Ferguson were never meant to be a part of the show, Disney made the writers squeeze them in because they wanted Marco to have male best friends as for whatever dumb reason they thought a show with a female-centric cast wouldn’t sell as much. SPOILER ALERT-it totally sold as much, and once they got the season 2 order Alphonso and Ferguson were PRETTY much out.

How they could’ve been improved: Now once again I understand WHY they were written out, but the fact of the matter is that while the writers hated them, the fans didn’t, hell in one of the comics-

-they were even ADVERSTISED to be in it! They were THAT much of a draw. Ultimately, what I feel would’ve improved their characters if the show straight up ACKNOWLEDGED that they weren’t supposed to be in the story, like maybe have them gone for only half or a quarter of the season, and then explain that Omnitraxis took them out of the space time continuum as they never truly belonged. Either that or just...keep them in normal style and develop them beyond the role of “Funny fat friend” and “Funny foreign friend” respectively, but what do I know?

How they could’ve stayed: The EASY answer is having them be squires to Star as well, allowing them to become just as kick ass as their best pal Marco...buuuuuuuuuuuut there’s a better answer: LET MARCO VISIT HIS FREAKING FRIENDS! Remember in “Marco Jr” how the Diazes gave him crap for not visiting as much? THAT-was a valid ass point considering oh I don’t know-HE OWNS MAGICAL SCISSORS(another reason to hate the original “Neverzone” deal because him getting his own scissors wasn’t NEEDED). He could’ve visited home at ANY time, caught up with his besties, solve a mystery or something, but NO-the bulk of Marco’s arcs in seasons 3 and 4 are pri-MARILY romance based. I would’ve taken like ONE episode of him catching up with his friends, ALL I need, BUT because the writers washed their hands of Echo Creek we’ll never get that chance.

NEXT UP-two characters that are...dis-TURBINGLY the same.

BRITTNEY Wong, the spoiled mean girl head cheerleader in literally every high school story that’s EVER existed because status quo-

-and Jeremy Birnbaum, Marco’s pint-sized karate rival.

How they could’ve been improved: Literally ANYTHING that would the two of them past basic bitch bullies. Now Jeremy had a LITTLE bit of development in “All Belts are Off” in explaining the reason he even HAS a black  belt is because his parents practically bribe Sensei Brantley...much like how Brittney’s father bribed the school to make her...head cheerleader-DEAR GOD-they’re both the exact same character if you think about it! Honestly, just have Brittney and/or Jeremy bond with their rival Star and/or Marco in some way or fashion that either quells or AMPLIFIES the rivalry. Hell, I’m amazed Jeremy never tried to TRULY get back at Marco after “Monster Arm”, give the kid some credit for only enacting petty pranks.

How they could’ve stayed: Okay with Brittney the answer isn’t so much obvious as it is HILARIOUS. You know how Rich Pigeon’s family became royal SOLELY because their insanely rich? Same thing, just have her dad straight up BUY a kingdom and she becomes a princess. Don’t lie, that’d be hilarious. And with Jeremy, I think he should’ve gone full on kung fu rival after realizing EVERY accomplishment he ever had was because his parents bought it for him. He can’t handle that he’s not special, and because of that turns to the DARK side! Plenty of ways to go with him.

NEXT UP-

OSKAR GREASON(thought it was Gleason for years)-the boring love interest of Star Butterfly whom she BARELY bonded with in seasons 1 and 2, and was only there to exist!

How he could’ve improved: You know how Marco and Jackie slowly bonded over seasons 1 and 2, how they developed as an actual couple, RIGHT up to the very end? THAT-but with Oskar. Have her go on like, a FEW dates with him, HELL-have them double date making Star realize how little she actually cares for him and have THAT be the point where she realizes she likes Marco! GRAH-freaking waste of a love interest, as well as a generally amusing character.

How he could’ve stayed: Musical apprentice to Ruberiot, easy. Have it be really awkward since Star used to crush on him, yadda yadda, writes itself.

NEXTAH-

Sensei (Brantley) Marco’s dimwitted but lovable sensei!

How he could’ve improved: HONESTLY-he personally as a character needs to improve the least from a story standpoint, he had a pretty funny mini-arc in being a fraud of a karate teacher, somehow getting away with every lesson BEFORE the red belt, it works. A concept that SHOULD’VE been more explored was his friendship with Marco, maybe have the two improve their martial arts together to become CHAMPIONS of justice!

How he could’ve stayed: Become a squire with Marco, easy. No more to say there.

NEEEEEEEEEEEERXT-

MISS MARGARET SKULLNICK-the strict, yet caring school teacher to Star Butterfly and her other classmates! She’s a bad ass troll school teacher, what MORE do you want?!

How she could’ve been improved: Nothing, because she was fucking awesome and underrated.

How she could’ve stayed: FREAKING TUTOR TO STAR AND MARCO! I KNOW the writers think all the magical Mewni nonsense trumps the school aspect but...WHEN THE HELL ARE ANY OF THE KIDS GOING TO SCHOOL ANY MORE?! They could’ve EASILY had an ep where like, Star misses school or something, and then gets her math checked up on by Miss Skullnick, I don’t know I just miss the bad ass troll lady! 

TXEN-

Starfan13, the whacky Star Butterfly fangirl who is also voiced by show creator Daron Nefcy!

How she could’ve been improved: The biggest problem with her is that outside of Star being shown to be bi in season 4, most representations of queer rep in the show are of nameless background characters. THE EXCEPTION-Starfan13, who has a DEFINITE crush on Star. The problem is obvious, said crush is only mentioned once throughout the series, and is never brought up again. Maybe have Starfan13 try to get over Star with another crush, but ultimately that fails because she becomes Janicefan13, basically absorbing the supposed persona of her obsession. Have her go through a real personal arc realizing that before she can obsess about others, she should become obsessed with her-SELF...I worded that horribly, LOVE herself. Also, do we know her ACTUAL first name? Four seasons and we only know her social media handle, what’s up with that?

How she could’ve stayed: Pretty much the same “Getting over Star and learning to love herself” story-BUT-where she somehow follows Star to Mewni and is still as obsessed with her. Honestly, isn’t it STRANGE that the writers never thought about that with her? She’s the most fan-girly fangirl of ALL time, you think the physical borders between realities would stop HER?! Just unrealistic.

FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-

Principal Edwin Bonner-Skeeves, easily bribed public servant of Echo Creek.

How he could’ve been improved: Go to jail. Look this guy got bribed canonically TWICE in the show, whose to say he wasn’t bribed several other times? Then he gets replaced by...Miss...Heinous-OH DEAR GOD-that is what should’ve happened! YES-the best development for Skeeves is to get replaced, EASILY!

How he could’ve stayed:...ya got me, he’s like the ONE character I can’t see on Mewni.

SHRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-

Rafael and Angie Diaz, the loving but in-CREDIBLY irresponsible parents to Marco Diaz.

How they could’ve been improved: Honestly not by much, they were pretty fun in season 1 and 2-BUT-the one thing that always bugged me about them was in “Heinous” how they FINALLY acknowledged how little they knew about their son and would keep more of an eye him...said subject is CLEARLY forgotten as they just FULL ON allow their son to move to the dangerous hellscape that is Mewni. I know they joke about “Star stealing their son” but-NO-dammit, they could’v said NO , they could’ve tried to be actual parents and showed some FREAKING backbone! ALSO-not have them name their second born after their first born, that is WEIRD!

How they could’ve stayed: Now they actually didn’t have to MOVE to Mewni, but they should’ve been to Marco what Moon and River were to Star in seasons 1 and 2, where Marco would regularly talk to them via magic mirror. If you’ve seen my previous post, you can see how turning Marco into the Star(pun intended) of Mewni was a good idea in theory, but wasn’t well done in practice. They only appeared ONCE in season 3, and only had a passing mention in one of TEN episodes into season 4. River and Moon weren’t abandoned as characters, why were the Earth parents?

And finally-HA-THE BIG ONE!

Jackie Lynn Thomas, Marco’s former crush and former girlfriend.

How she could’ve stayed: Yeah I skipped improved on purpose, she was great and she should’ve stayed. I don’t know WHY TV shows keep doing this, be it StarVs or New Girl, but sometimes REGARDLESS of how interesting they are they’ll just write out love interests completely once the romance ends. A person doesn’t disappear when you break up with them, they continue to exist and live on their life. Maybe Marco could’ve had a Mewni day and have her moving on with a new guy, to which Marco gets jealous or something. Point is, waste of a character and I hope she at least has ONE cameo in the final season.

And that’s part 2, hoped you liked it, after this I think I’m going to end it with the personal arcs of the title characters. With that, I’m Yoshimickster a.k.a. Mick the nerd, and hope you have a kickin’ time.

#star vs #starvs #star vs the forces of evil #marco diaz #miss skullnick #principal skeeves #oskar greason #jackie lynn thomas #brittney wong #jeremy birnbaum #ferguson and alphonso #rafael diaz #angie diaz #star butterfly #starfan13 #sensei brantley #disney #disney xd

[purkinje-effect]

The Purkinje Effect, 34

Table of Contents

“Christ, Geek, you’ve got thrill issues.” Hancock stared down the hole at him. “I’m not afraid of heights. There’s jumping down from someplace, and there’s falling. This is definitely falling.”

“Great, now we have to see this to completion,” ‘Choly moaned. “Angel’s hydraulic thrusters can’t handle that sudden a drop. Not that it matters since I’m not about to leave it behind, but I’m not so good for climbing.”

“I wouldn’t trust me to catch you, either,” Geek snipped with a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’re just gonna hafta double back to that first door an’ see if y’can’t put y’brains together t’break it open.”

“Aren’t you two floors under us?” Hancock continued, increasingly mad that Geek had forcibly divorced himself from the group in such a way, increasingly stressed that the vault was more labyrinthine than any of them had anticipated, and increasingly convinced this was Geek’s way of seizing some kind of control over the situation. “Something tells me there’s a good chance it doesn’t lead anywhere.”

“Well, for your sake and mine, you’d better hope it does. I’ll be fine. I did all kinda a repair work on the maintenance tunnels in 82. I can find my way around without gettin’ caught. Goin’ it alone for now, swear I’ll play it stealthy. Oh hey, there’s another terminal down here.”

“Somethin’ tells me ‘Geek’ and ‘stealth’ don’t belong in the same sentence,” ‘Choly quipped, wanting to wait around to hear what the terminal had to offer.

“Tell me about it,” Hancock agreed, starting into a cigarette and pacing.

Geek shrugged it off, and opened a confidential file paradoxically left unprotected by password. In it summarized the scope of the resident interview process, as it pertained to Vault 114′s planned social experiment. Great. He rolled his eye. Never gonna find a vault that didn’t use the folks for guinea pigs.

“Wow,” he narrated up the shaft aloud. “It wasn’t just Todd Gates. Everybody slotted t’live here was cherrypicked from the rich, the political, and the famous. This one ran an experiment on its people like all the others, but this one was psychological. They sold these rich snobs first class, but would’a sardined ‘em into coach. An’ their original Overseer was supposed to have as little leadership experience as possible, with as strong a hate for authority as possible.”

The chemist bounced his eyebrows once, deadpan.

“So you’re saying that there’s no way to predict just how poorly adjusted these residents’ descendants are.”

“Sounds like the whole tin can could’a used a lifetime supply of Jet, provided the experiment ever got off the ground,” Hancock joked. “From what I understand, though, the only thing we’ve gotta worry about is a mob of Triggermen. They’re bad enough, but also just about as predictable as it gets.”

“What do you mean, ‘from what you understand’? You know about this vault?” ‘Choly glared at the delinquent ghoul, getting to his limit with the situation himself.

“Then it wasn’t weird, that the admissions list didn’t confirm intake of any of the residents. Y’telling us the Vault never opened for use.” Geek stalled in place, everything clicking in that moment, and he slowly picked his head up to glare up in a near-rage at Hancock, who immediately shied from the top of the shaft to pace away from the pink ghoul’s line of sight. “Vault 114. You told me about this place back at the Vault-Tec office. Just how drunk was I that day, not to put it all together until now? You knew. You knew what’s down here. You’re bein’ clean cut straightforward with the two of us right. Now. We deserve it.”

“I’m starting to think both you and Bobbi had the same bad habits.” ‘Choly sniffed with a dismissive sneer. “Come on, Bobbi. Out with it. What were you two doing at a Vault-Tec office?”

“I--” Hancock flustered at the comparison and pursed his cigarette in his lips to shove his hands in his jean pockets stiffly, eyes wide. “I’d hoped you’d catch my drift a lot sooner, is all. I haven’t been lying, just... misleading. Didn’t think I’d have to spell it all out, to be fair. Don’t be too hard on yourself for not rememberin’ everything from the Vault-Tec office, Geek. It was a lot of information to take in at once. Really, I only know what Nick’s told me. It’s not like I had a key inside before now. He and Skinny have history. I think he just finally got unlucky enough to get on Skinny’s bad side.”

“...Hey, nerd.” Geek ate his cigarette filter while he eyed the stuff in the room he’d jumped down into. “That wristwatch keep good time?”

“It’s eighteenth hour,” ‘Choly replied, convinced their entourage had failed.

“Oh, good. We’re in sync.” He dropped his Pip-Boy arm to his side again. “I don’t know how your vault was set up, but I know in my gut that door at the start’s gotta be the main entrance. Gimme two hours with y’all tryin’ t’get it open quiet-like before you go an’ do anything louder, yeah?”

“We’ll give you one,” Hancock insisted, hating the idea of leaving him on his own that long.

“Ideally, we’ll get in easily,” ‘Choly agreed. “If we get in before you get out, meet us in the Overseer’s office. If there is one. Okay?”

“Into the labyrinth.” He blew Hancock a kiss and traversed deeper, down a hall, and through a pocket door around the corner.

Geek found a box of Abraxo Powder on the ground near some lockers, and he picked it up to absently crack open the corner with a jammed-in thumb. Hancock’s juryrigged fence-muzzle thwarted the attempt to pour some in his mouth and he growled to himself as the soap went everywhere but. With a huffed grunt, he tucked the box open-end-up into his jumpsuit next to his heart and zipped back up.

A glance out the window in the wall showed the first real fixture of a true vault which anyone encountered upon entry: the Atrium, a large open social area with a ceiling at least two stories high. Cafeteria bench tables and unpacked shipping crates littered the floor space at the bottom, and a balcony ran the full perimeter of the second floor. He nearly wondered if he were down here all alone after all, but overheard a one-sided conversation taking place. The pink ghoul crept around the corner hall and out onto the second story balcony, and eavesdropped on a man on the third story balcony, arguing with someone behind a porthole. That has to be the Overseer’s office. Slowly, he crept up the stairs.

“--Feelin’ hungry? Wanna snack?” The Triggerman in a black trilby jeered. The response sobered him, and he sneered. “Don’t gimme that crap, Valentine. You know nothin’, you got nothin’.” Another pause hushed him. “Three strikes...? In the black book...? But I never-- Ohh no. I gotta smooth this out, an’ fast!”

The Triggerman bolted for the stairs, and Geek reflexively jutted his foot out to trip him. With him face-down, Geek grabbed him by a fistful of hair and from behind slashed his throat with Cronus, then tossed down the body and stood back up. From inside the locked office, the sound of a brassy, gruff Chicago accent cut off the pink ghoul’s relieved sigh.

“Hey, you. I don’t know who you are, but we got three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains ain’t comin’ back. Get this door open.”

He peered through the porthole, to find very little light and the silhouette of a figure in a trenchcoat and fedora. The terminal beside the locked door required a password, and he didn’t trust his luck. Looking for a holotape key, he patted down the Triggerman who’d kept watch on their captive, and snapped his fingers in success before returning to the terminal with it to instruct the computer to disengage the lock. The vertical pocket door slid up and down in two pieces, and Geek stood there a moment taking in the presence of the person he was bailing out. The detective lit a cigarette, but the smell didn’t mask the familiar lubricants and coolants which belied a human silhouette. He stared into the synth’s glowing golden eyes.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario,” the detective quipped wryly. “Question is, why did our hero risk his life and limb for an old private eye?”

“Call... it a favor for a friend.” Geek consciously endeavored to steady his breathing, and he’d already begun to salivate. Damn my luck, that I found him before Hancock and ‘Choly did. Feeling like some kind of feral animal, he squirmed that he could only stare at the exposed armature of the detective’s right hand as it drew the cigarette up to his lips to take another hit. He swallowed his own cigarette butt and shuddered, unable to determine whether nicotine did a thing for a construct that didn’t even have lungs. Let alone that a good bit of the smoke escaped through a gap in the cheek flesh. “Y-- y’not like that other synths I’ve met.”

“One of a kind, he shined with a wink. “The name’s Nick Valentine. To whom do I owe the pleasure of my freedom?”

“I’m the Geek,” he blurted out. “An’ a certain mayor led me, another guy, and the guy’s robot down here under the hunch we’d find you here.”

“Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain’t comforting, but it’s not important right now.” Out of jaded habit, Valentine tried to distract Geek from the jarring artificial appearance of his weathered, damaged shell leaving swaths of his armature exposed throughout the left side of his face and all down his neck. “I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. Only so many times a body can listen to the same three holotape interviews. ...Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn’t kidnapped. She’s Skinny Malone’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak. Like I said, though, now ain’t the time. Let’s blow this joint. Then we’ll talk.”

“G-- g-- good idea. Nnnowait. I. I. I need t’do somethin’ first.” Shakily, Geek sat at the C-shaped Overseer’s desk and browsed the terminal for a moment. He pocketed the three aforementioned holotapes from the desktop, and stood right back up in frustration. “Damn, it’s just a welcome note for the Overseer. Dunno what I expected. Damn vault never opened for residence.”

“Well that certainly explains why Skinny didn’t have to clear out the previous tenants. An empty vault. Perfect hideout.”

“When they locked you in here, they patted you down, didn’t they?” Geek asked on the way out.

“Unfortunately,” Nick replied. “Hopefully you can keep it hot enough for the both of us.”

“Well, if you’re good with a gun.” Geek handed over a box of .44 bullets and his bull barrel pistol with a sly boredom. “I negotiate with my fists, personally.”

“A pleasant surprise. Appreciate the insurance.”

“Don’t sweat it,” the ghoul grinned.

Geek let Valentine show the way, and the synth detective cut back the way Geek had come, then continued down to the bottom floor to the Atrium. Shipping crates littered the balcony and the space under the stairs, and were piled high against the Atrium walls. Suddenly, Valentine crouched and whispered,

“How do you want to play this?”

The pair peered at the five Triggermen who’d ambled out to investigate the brief commotion from before. Geek let it speak for him, to don his knuckledusters and slip out to dance. Given the element of surprise, he and Valentine dispatched them with the slightest scuff. While Geek caught his breath, he wandered the area and eyed the labels on the crates. One of them had been marked ‘Vault 111: decompression chamber coolant’ and his head tilted askew at the cryogenics warnings all over it. Three rows down, he stopped dead and stared. ‘Vault 82: hydroponics bay kit.’

“Hard and loud, huh? Well, gets the job done. Too bad for whoever cleans up the floors.”

“--Aw fuck me, Hancock owes me a nuke. I told him they never got to 82, half or all.” Geek popped off the lid and looked inside. He peered at the various parts which would have become elevated gardening trays. “Not that it does any good now.”

“Something tells me you came down here for more than little old me.”

“Guilty. If anything else labeled Vault 82 catches your eye, tell me.”

“So some wires got crossed, and shipments ended up unintended places. Not remotely surprised. In case you hadn’t noticed, construction of this place must have been overseen by the Grandchester family.”

“You’ve been to Nuka World!” Geek’s head whipped up with the childlike wonder of a toddler, and he stared at Nick. “Oh man I haven’t been since I was nine!”

“You don’t say.” Valentine clicked his tongue in affirmative. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Vault 82.”

As they continued on through the utility section of the vault, Geek felt very small and very distracted. He decided to pop a holotape into his Pip-Boy to listen to one at random. When Nick gave him the stinkeye, he turned it back off with sorry on his face.

“At least you picked the one interesting narrative among them. Got them all memorized, with them being the only thing to keep me sane locked up in the Overseer’s office. That’s the interview with the individual they selected as the Overseer. Soup Can Harry. Thought taxes paid for Illuminati free mason sex parties. Refused to wear pants. And ate soap explicitly to spite the ‘not for consumption’ label. They really picked a diamond in the rough with that one.”

“Part of the Vault-Tec experiment was to put the most infuriating and unrelenting idiot in charge of the vault. Hate to say I halfway fit the bill, if what you said describes the guy accurately. I could’a run the damn place.”

They passed the Depot and Geek detoured at the smell of more soap. The string of lockers that lined all four walls lay open and mostly empty, barring four boxes of Abraxo spilled around a skeleton which looked like its owner had crawled into the locker to eat to his heart’s content. The pink ghoul took one sealed box, but let the poor soul have the rest.

“You, too, huh?” Geek quipped, melancholy, as he shook the box. “Guess I was wrong about none of the residents ever makin’ it here.”

“Come on,” Nick hushed in agitation. “I just got the door to the stairwell open. It was malfunctioning, but we can keep moving now.”

Past the lavatories and showers, they cut to the stairs, to be met with a variety of directional arrows, which indicated to take the stairs if one so desired the residentials, laundry, cafeteria, nursery, or exit zone they sought. Nick hugged a door frame to shoot a Triggerman who’d been seated with his feet kicked up. Geek ambled up to the body to collect the comic he’d been reading, and his eyes lit up again as he skimmed through it.

“‘The Man Who Could Stop Time!’ Ohh man, this is one of the ones I never got. I used t’have a real big Astoundingly Awesome Tales collection.”

“Heh, it’s all yours, kid.”

They cut through the Residential zone, the layout of which connected rooms in such a way as to provide zero privacy and also house as many heads per room as humanly possible. Just the thought of as many as ten people being forced to live in the same tiny room together made Geek’s skin crawl, but the synth seemed to have his mind too much on escaping undetected to hypothesize how the vault experiment might have played out given the chance. A few Triggermen napped on the bunk beds, and the pair eliminated them easily before any woke to the intrusion.

“More stairs?” Nick scoffed as they took another flight. “Who built this damn vault, a fitness instructor?”

Finally, he got a laugh out of Geek, and the tension cut a bit.

Another hallway with the laundromat and storage closets yielded all manner of loot for Geek, who spent hardly any time or hesitation absconding with anything pocket-sized. He stepped into the cafeteria last, disappointed to find it was little more than a restaurant kitchen with an a la carte window. He turned the cafeteria upside-down when he didn’t find a single paste dispenser, and pocketed all the flatware he could put his hands on. Rejoining an exasperated Valentine, he patted his chests contentedly just to hear the fistfuls of utensils jangling together.

“You sure have deep pockets.”

“Deep pockets, and an appetite that won’t quit.”

“Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are waiting for us, somewhere. The names, uh, ironic, but don’t let that fool you. He’s dangerous.”

Geek frowned. Surely they wouldn’t be ambushed by dozens of Triggermen.

They hit a dead end with another malfunctioning vertical pocket door. When Valentine announced he’d get it open with little effort, Geek inspected the various Vault-Tec shipping boxes for mailing labels which might have indicated anything further. The pink ghoul didn’t find anything but a pair of royal blue vault suits labeled on the back in large bold gold letters ‘114.’ With an eye roll he stuffed them into his jumpsuit along with the Abraxo, and flattened them down down without crushing the boxes so he could zip up. He started pacing and snacking once he no longer sufficiently felt he could distract himself.

“Okay, got it. But I head a big commotion on the other side and everything went quiet. This door was jammed, not locked, so whoever’s out there might have had the same trouble getting in as we are gettin’ out. Once we step through this door, get ready for anything.” He glanced up to catch Geek slipping table knives through the fence-muzzle gaps to swallow them, and the pink ghoul froze red-handed. “I take it the name’s not ironic.”

“I eat when I’m nervous.”

“Suppose that’s fair.”

“--Did y’say a buncha noise out there then silence?” Geek clenched his teeth. “I really hope that’s not the door I think it is.”

“Only one way to find out.”

#nick valentine #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #vault 114 #fallout #geek #the purkinje effect

[write-havoc]

The Glasswing Butterfly Part 1

Summary: Chuck has never thought of herself as anything special. Just an average beta living her life next door to a womanizing alpha named Negan. But her life, and Negan’s too, are turned upside down when Chuck suddenly presents as omega.

This is a non-zombie AU featuring A/B/O dynamics.

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

Chuck rakes her hands through her strawberry bond hair and growls at the computer screen on her desk in her apartment. “Why aren’t you working!? What did I mess up?” she grumbles. The code she had just input is not working the way she expected. She’s still ahead on what she was supposed to get done for the day, but she it’s still frustrating to have to search through code to find your mistake.

Chuck had started to work for Ad Astra Software in Charlottesville, Virginia about four years ago, right after she graduated from college. After about a year working there, she was allowed the opportunity to work from home, which Chuck accepted happily. Being naturally shy and introverted, she finds it difficult to work around other people. Being at home, alone in her space allows her to work much faster and better than if she had to deal with a bunch of people around her. Now, she only has to go in to the office about once a month to check in.

After her graduation is also when she moved to her current home. The one bedroom apartment is just perfect for her. The open plan living area contains a small kitchen and has enough room for Chuck’s couch, tv, computer desk, and a small dining room table. The bedroom isn’t exactly spacious, but it has a small closet and an en-suite bathroom that is actually fairly big. It’s in a pretty good neighborhood, too, which her mother especially likes.

Chuck’s cell phone rings and she turns it over to see, though she already knows who it is. Her mom’s picture and the name “Diane Langdon” shine on the screen. Chuck accepts the call and stands from her chair to start pacing around her apartment. She could never sit still and talk on the phone at the same time.

“Hi, Mom,” she answers.

Her mom’s cheery voice rings through the speaker. “ Hey, sweetie. Whatcha doing? ”

“Working. What are you doing?”

Diane takes a bite of her sandwich and answers without swallowing. “ I’m taking a break. Eating my lunch. ”

Diane works as a nurse at Mary Washington Hospital in Fredericksburg, so she doesn’t always get time to talk to her daughter from work. But she tries to talk to Chuck at least once a day, no matter what.

Chuck suddenly yawns into the phone. Not because she’s bored with her mother, but because she didn’t get much sleep last night. “Ugh,” she groans and rubs at the crick in her neck. “I need to get a more comfortable couch since I end up sleeping on it so much.”

“ What’s wrong with your bed? ”

Chuck lets out a huff. “You know why, Mom. Negan ,” Chuck emphasizes.

Negan is Chuck’s next door neighbor. And they happen to share a wall between their bedrooms. It didn’t take Chuck too many nights to figure out that that wall isn’t exactly sound proof. And that Negan is somewhat of a womanizer, bringing home a different girl a few times a week and “entertaining” her. Which always ends up with Chuck hearing moans and screams and Negan’s headboard slamming up against the wall.

“ Oh. That’s right ,” Diane answers with a little chuckle. “ Your alpha neighbor. ”

“Yeah. He’s like the worst alpha ever.”

“ I don’t know if that’s true, Chuck. He’s not bashing people’s brains in, is he? ” she jokes.

“I guess not,” Chuck concedes. “But he’s so arrogant! Like way more arrogant than any other alpha I’ve met.”

Diane chuckles into the phone. “ You know alphas love showing off for us betas. ”

It was no surprise that Chuck didn’t present as omega in her early teens, though her demeanor is very omega-like. Both Chuck’s parents are beta. Or was beta, in the case of Chuck’s father. He had passed away when Chuck was eight years old from a car accident. He was struck by a drunk driver going the wrong way on the highway and died almost instantly.

Omegas in general are pretty rare, comprising about 5% of the world’s population. And they almost always come from alpha/omega pairings. But omegas being born from beta parents has been documented, so it’s not entirely impossible.

And Chuck has no way of knowing that she is actually part of that 5%. Yet.

Chuck lets out a huff as she thinks about what a douche Negan is. “Well... Remember when I first moved here and I left a note on his door informing him that I could hear his... uh...” Chuck isn’t sure how to describe it to her mother, “ night activities ,” she settles on. “And because I’m a nice person, I thought he should know so he didn’t get embarrassed about it. Then the next day, he left me a note saying ‘Enjoy the show’! Like, who does that?!”

Diane laughs. “ Oh, yeah. I forgot he did that. ”

“Yeah! He could’ve at least moved his bed from our shared wall like I did. But, no. He kept it there. And I swear he got louder after that.”

“ Well, I’m not surprised he has a steady stream of women to entertain. He’s very handsome. ”

Chuck groans. “Yeah, yeah. I know, Mom. You think he’s so hot.”

Chuck knows that Negan is a good looking man. He’s tall, like most alphas, but he’s not as bulky as some are. He’s more... lithe , if Chuck would have to put a word to it. His dark hair always seems to be slicked back perfectly and his beard, of course, has just the right amount of gray.

“ Well... ” Diane giggles. “ He’s nice to look at. ”

“I guess. But he’s horrible to live next to. No amount of dimples makes up for that.”

Diane laughs hard. She had told her daughter more than once about how much she liked Negan’s pronounced dimples. “ I suppose, sweetie. You know alphas can’t help but be assholes. Especially the handsome ones. ”

“It’s annoying.”

Diane’s pager beeps. “ Shit. ” She leans down to look at the device on her hip. “ I gotta get back to work. I’ll talk to you later. ”

“Ok, Mom.”

“ Love you. ”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

Chuck sets her phone back down and goes back to her work, finding her mistake and fixing it accordingly. Once she has everything else done, she decides to actually look for new couch online. The couch in her living room that has been doubling as her bed a few nights a week is a few years old and was pretty much the cheapest option available when she moved in and needed furniture. She researches various models and sellers and finally places an order for one she thinks will suit her needs.

While she’s at it, she also stocks up on some other things she needs. Her mother always tells her that it’s weird that she buys groceries and the like online, but Chuck would rather do it this way. Being in crowded stores is not Chuck’s idea of a good time.

So, yeah, she’s a bit of a homebody.

Chuck had never been a social butterfly. And throughout her childhood and schooling, she had never really had any friends. No close ones, anyway. Her shyness made it hard for her to put herself out there and make friends. And the fact that she always felt like a freak kept her from getting close to anyone that may actually try to be her friend.

When Chuck was sixteen, it was found that she had underdeveloped reproductive organs. Her ovaries were mostly normal, which meant that she still went through puberty, somewhat. She had filled out and grew body hair, at least. But her uterus and vagina hadn’t matured properly, which meant that she would never get a period or be able to have a child. Even having sex would be extremely difficult.

Chuck’s doctors don’t realize that her underdeveloped organs are pretty typical of a very rare syndrome afflicting omegas. So Chuck has no way of knowing that, either.

He condition is something that Chuck could easily hide from most people. But she would ultimately have to tell any man that may be interested in her that she could never have sex or give him children. So she simply never pursued anything romantic. She kept to herself, never going to parties or even really socializing in any meaningful way.

Yes, it’s a lonely existence. But the alternative seems so much worse to Chuck. She always had nightmare scenarios of telling fantasy boyfriends that she wasn’t normal. They would laugh at her. Call her a freak. Tell her that she wasn’t worth it. That she should just go away and disappear.

So she did just that, herself, before anyone could tell her. She was essentially a ghost in her own life, never making an impact or impression on anyone.

That night, Chuck decides to get some laundry done. She usually goes at night because the machines in the basement always seem to be in use during the day, which seems pretty normal for people keeping a regular schedule. But Chuck is somewhat of a night owl, actually. She loves the fact that she can sleep in because she can set her own hours at work. And she’s happy that her lost sleep during the night because of her neighbor doesn’t necessarily lead to her having horrible mornings. If she had a normal 9 to 5, she would go completely crazy.

Chuck doesn’t know how Negan does it. She knows that Negan does have a 9 to 5, yet he still takes out several hours a few nights a week to have sex with random women. He must take naps.

Chuck gathers up her hamper and takes the elevator down to the basement. When she gets to the laundry room, though, she stops dead in her tracks. Negan is in there with a beta woman that Chuck recognizes as another tenant. And she’s sitting on one of the machines with Negan standing between her spread legs. Their mouths are all over each other, making lewd noises. And Negan’s hand is conspicuously in between their bodies.

Chuck instantly turns around an leaves, fully disgusted at the sight. But as she reenters her apartment, that disgust turns into something else. She’s hurt. Not in the way you might think. She’s not jealous of the woman because Negan is all over her rather than herself. No, she’s more envious . Of both of them. Envious of the fact that Negan is naturally good looking and charming enough that it’s so easy for him to get women. Envious of the woman that she’s beautiful and sexy enough to get a man like Negan’s attention. Envious that they can easily have what Chuck can’t. She knows that they aren’t in a relationship, because she’s pretty sure Negan doesn’t do relationships, but they still could have that kind of intimacy with another person. The kind of intimacy that Chuck would never have.

Chuck breaks down once she gets to her bedroom. All of her self hatred seems to consume her all at once. Her body is wracked with sobs and she cries into her pillow heavily. This isn’t a normal occurrence. Yes, she cried at times. Yes, she was sad. Depressed, even. But this all consuming emotion is new to Chuck. It’s part of an escalation.

She had found herself being frustrated more often, having a shorter fuse. And she was more restless. But she kept it all from her mother, not knowing how to really explain what she’s going through.

When Chuck wakes up the next morning, her whole body hurts and she has a hard time even getting out of bed. But, again, she doesn’t tell her mother when she calls her. She says that everything is fine. And her mom believes her.

But Chuck doesn’t realize that some of the pain she is feeling isn’t just because of her panic attack last night. Her body is changing and she doesn’t even know it.

Chuck’s monthly day at the office comes and she readies herself for it. They were pretty laid back there, so she just dresses casually. Though the first T-shirt she pulls out ends up being too tight around her chest. She hadn’t really seen her weight go up too much on the scale, but her clothes seemed to be fitting her differently. Her diet hadn’t changed, but she thinks that maybe it’s just her metabolism changing with age. What she doesn’t really see though, is that all the changes are to her chest and hips, making her curvier than what she was before. Giving her a more classic omega physique.

When Chuck gets back to her building, she ends up walking behind Negan. He enters the elevator before her and holds the door so it doesn’t close. Chuck is actually a bit surprised at the polite gesture, figuring that Negan wasn’t capable of being chivalrous. But that good will fades when he looks back at her after he pushes the button for the fifth floor.

“What floor, sweetheart?” he asks.

Chuck hesitates to answer.

He doesn’t even know that I’m his next door neighbor. I’ve been living beside him for four years and he doesn’t even recognize me , she thinks.

“Uh... three,” she answers without really thinking.

He pushes the button then pulls out his phone to answer some texts, completely unaware how his simple question has affected the girl beside him. Chuck tries not to let it get to her. She tries to focus on anything but the dark feeling that’s bubbling up in her chest once again. What’s the song playing in the elevator? What’s she going to eat when she gets home? What cologne is Negan wearing? It smells good.

When the door opens on the third floor, Chuck exits and starts to walk down the hall, pretending to head to her nonexistent apartment. When she hears the elevator doors close again, she turns back around and enters the stairwell.

Yeah, it was a little stupid not to just tell Negan that she was headed to the same floor he was, but she was too embarrassed.

How could he not know that I’m his neighbor? she thinks. How am I that unmemorable? What is wrong with me?

Chuck checks the hall on her actual floor to make sure Negan is in his apartment before she exits the stairwell. With the coast clear, she walks through the hallway and enters her apartment, throwing her keys and bag on the counter beside the door. Once she gets inside, she lets out a heavy breath, that same self hatred bubbling up in her again.

“Great,” she mutters to herself when she feels her eyes well up with tears. “Just great.”

The rest of the day is rough for Chuck. She tries to keep her mind occupied with anything, really. Tv, video games, a book, but that lonely, dark feeling is ever present.

About a minute after Chuck gets into bed for the night, she starts to hear Negan and his current lady friend next door.

She lets out a huff. “Really?!” She turns over on her side and pulls the pillow over her head to try to stifle the sounds. But with every minute that ticks by that Chuck can’t block out the noises, her anger rises. Eventually, she can’t take it anymore and whips her covers off of her, jumping out of the bed. She stomps out to the living room and unplugs her Bluetooth stereo, carrying it back into her room to set it up on her desk, facing Negan’s apartment.

Chuck picks up her phone from her nightstand and opens Spotify, intent on creating the world’s least sexy playlist. The Mickey Mouse Club theme song, Cat’s in the Cradle, Tiptoe Through the Tulips, How much is that Doggy in the Window, and some random songs from the Christian rock channel soon blast out of Chuck’s speakers.

Yeah, it’s petty. And it’s certainly not a thing that Chuck would normally do, but she just couldn’t take it anymore.

The next morning, Chuck is woken up by a pounding on her front door. After she gets over the initial shock of being rudely awoken, she remembers everything that went on last night.

“Oh, god,” she whispers when she realizes who is probably at the door. “Oh, no no no.” She scrambles off the couch and searches for something to put on, because she’s certainly not answering the door in just her tank top and sleep shorts. Just as she finds her hoodie and pulls it over her head, there is more pounding at the door.

“Jeez,” she mutters and unlocks the door, pulling it open slightly.

The exact person she thought is standing before her, looking angry to boot. But his expression changes to confusion pretty quick.

When Negan had decided to his confront his neighbor, he realized that he actually didn’t know who it was. C. Langdon is the name on the mailbox beside his, but for the life of him, he can’t picture the person. They must be a shut in, because he never sees them coming or going. Probably on welfare or disability or something. But what he sees when the door opens completely confuses him.

Negan stares at the girl a moment before speaking. “You got parents?” he asks. The girl doesn’t look like she’s out of her teens to him. But he thought all the tenants with families lived on the first two floors.

Chuck scrunches up her face. “Of course I have parents,” she bites back with uncharacteristic attitude. She was never one to talk back, but she’s finding it increasingly hard to control herself.

He lets out a huff. “Don’t be a smartass, kid.” He’s used to dealing with teenagers from when he used to be a gym coach years ago. And right now, he’s thinking that he doesn’t miss it one bit. “Is your mom or dad here?”

Chuck is confused for a moment until she realizes that Negan thinks she’s a teenager. It’s not exactly new to her; people always think she’s young. But for some reason, it annoys her endlessly hearing it from Negan. “I’m twenty five,” she barks. “And this is my apartment.”

At first, Negan doesn’t believe it, because the girl standing before him looks very young. But he knows her apartment is set up exactly like his. It makes more sense that only a single person would live there. And he knows C. Langdon has lived there for a few years. So her being twenty five seems to fit.

None of that matters anyway because Negan suddenly remembers why he knocked on this girl’s door. “So, you think that shit you pulled last night was fuckin’ funny?”

Chuck knows that she should be ashamed about what she did last night because it was childish and petty, but she’s really not. In her eyes, Negan deserved it. And, maybe she should be more cautious about having an angry alpha on her doorstep. Despite that, she doesn’t back off. “Actually, I thought it was hilarious.”

Negan chuckles darkly. “Well,” he leans forward, “ I didn’t find it fuckin’ funny, little girl.”

That just rubs Chuck the wrong way. “Don’t call me a little girl. I’m an adult,” she asserts.

Negan looks down at her and thinks that she couldn’t possibly look less like an adult if she tried. So he laughs at her. “Alright, princess .”

“My name is Chuck .”

“What the fuck kind of name is that?”

“What kind of name is Negan ?” she retorts.

He lets out a huff from his flared nostrils. This girl is getting on his nerves. “Listen, princess, that shit you did cost me a night of fucking cuz my date couldn’t stand the shit you were playing. So don’t fuckin’ do it again.”

“Maybe keep it down a little and I won’t.”

A smirk forms on his face. “I can’t help it if I give a good dicking.”

Chuck scrunches up her face. “You’re disgusting.”

That’s not the first time he’s heard that, but for some reason, it bothers him coming from her. So, of course, instead of backing off, he pushes forward. “Maybe you just need a good dicking, yourself. It might help to remove that fuckin’ stick you got up your ass.”

Chuck is taken aback at that. She’s offended and hurt. And it takes the fight right out of her. Without knowing it, Negan had hit a pressure point of hers and it leaves her reeling. The only thing she could do is slam the door in his face. And that’s exactly what she does.

Negan pulls his head back at the last possible moment, narrowly avoiding being hit on the nose by the swinging door. He’s still angry, though. He leans on the door, placing his mouth close to it and calls out, “Oh, little girl. You have no idea the shit storm you just brought down on yourself.”

#negan #negan fanfiction #negans thirst squad #negan x oc #negan x original female character #negan x ofc #negan / ofc #negan / oc #negan / original female character #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead au #the walking dead #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #alpha negan #The Glasswing Butterfly #writehavoc writes #writehavoc the Glasswing Butterfly

[beardycarrot]

This post is way too long so ignore it and just keep scrolling

Alright. Having played both Sonic Mania and Sonic Forces, I can now say, based on my own experiences... that Sonic Forces is a smoldering garbage heap.

First off, let me get this out of the way: the character creation system is... okay. In the screenshot above, you can see My Original Character,  Blonic  Eiko the Cat. You have several different anthropomorphic animal species to choose from, each of which has their own species-specific ability. Birds can double-jump, cats hold on to a few rings even after taking heavy damage, that kind of thing. There’s a selection of three head types for each species, about a dozen eyes, and can set two skin/fur/scale/feather colors. Not bad.

For the game’s main selling point, though, it feels a little weak... especially in comparison to the last game I played, South Park: The Fractured But Whole. In addition to your character’s physical appearance, which meshes perfectly with the South Park style, you can set your character’s gender (male/female/non-binary/multi-gender), whether they’re cis or trans, both their race and ethnicity, their sexual preferences, religion, all sorts of stuff that are pointless in the context of the game but let you make your character whatever you want them to be. I’m not saying that all games should have this, but I did just play that game, so I can’t help but compare Sonic Forces to it since the character creator is meant to be one of the game’s big gimmick.

Anyway. In addition to your character’s body, you also get to dress them up with outfits you unlock as you play. I guess this is a cool concept, with you getting between three and twelve costume pieces every level depending on how well you do and whether anything you did in a level completed a special objective... but it’s annoying constantly being pelted with costumes you’ll never wear. I was a mixture of fortunate and unfortunate in the fact that clothes I like (a tactical outfit in black and olive green) were unlocked within the first couple levels, so I could wear an outfit I like throughout the game... but it also meant that I never had any reason to change out for new gear or experiment with costumes that would only be less appealing to me.

There’s also the jarring fact that with clothing on, your character looks completely out of place. Most of the other characters in the game wear nothing but white gloves and sneakers, and seeing you alongside them just makes them look naked. I’ve spent way too long talking about customization. Moving on...

...You can also customize your avatar’s weapon, which I guess is the power of the Wisp aliens from Sonic Colors stored in a gun? There are probably advantages to all of them, but you spend less than half of the game playing as your avatar, every enemy in the game dies in one hit, and the fire weapon I started with can clear a screen of enemies in literally two seconds... so I never really bothered with them. You also occasionally find Wisps locked in capsules, but the game never actually gives you a real tutorial for them. It’s possible that it was explained in a hint marker, but it’s possible to take a route through a level or jump at just the wrong moment that you miss the marker and can’t go back to see what it said. I eventually figured it out in level twenty-five, which is right at the end of the game... and that level also happens to be a great example of why I don’t like this game.

I know that as a still frame this is kinda incomprehensible, but what you’re looking at is a little vertical shaft kind of thing. There have been shafts like this elsewhere in the game, but they’ve always been things you either just dropped down through or rode an elevator in or had platforms to jump on. Here?

This game apparently has a wall-jumping mechanic, which only appears here, in the twenty-fifth of thirty levels. I’m completely fine with video games using mechanics sparingly or even basing levels around a gimmick that never appears again... but this is the only time in the game that this happens, and the mechanic isn’t even implemented very well. If you’re too close to the wall it will sometimes fail to activate, if you press the jump button again too soon you won’t cling to the wall, and sometimes your series of jumps will have you end up jumping over the wall to the left instead of going right... which is an issue considering that for the second half of the level, you have to do this while trying to outrun a giant instant death laser. Assuming you can even get to that point.

I can’t tell you how long I was stuck here. To the left is a checkpoint, and all you can do is collect what looks like an electric Wisp in a capsule, then... wait to the blue death laser to kill you and put you back at the check point. The dark red boxes are breakable, and you’re clearly meant to either get down through this shaft to continue... but there’s no obvious way to do this. I thought that you were supposed to use the electric Wisp somehow, but I guess you can only do that if you have the right Wisp weapon equipped, as the game only seems to care when I collect capsules with fire Wisps in them.

I was eventually forced to watch a video of someone playing this level, and they just kind of... broke through all the boxes at once. After further research, I discovered that if you press the Crouch button (which I’ve never pressed up to this point and forgot existed) while in the air, you’ll do a stomp move that the game never bothered to teach me.

Once you’re past that, the next section is incredibly difficult... I figured out how to use the encapsulated fire Wisps (it’s the “Wisp Special” button that I’d previously been unable to figure out the function of) to skip over the obstacles, but if you don’t time/aim it properly, you’re back down in the area where you have to deal with the wall jumps that occasionally send you careening backwards.

I know that I’m just complaining about one difficult end-game level, but the entire game is like this. It’s all either gameplay mechanics the game doesn’t explain properly that are prone to failing, or levels that are way too short and simplistic. I haven’t even touched on the jumping mechanics... Want to know how many times I died replaying that level to get those screenshots?

A couple of those are from the laser section, but it’s mostly falling into bottomless pits because you’re pretty strongly locked into your jump trajectory when playing as Your Own Character, and the platform placement in that level sucks. It’s not as big of a deal when playing as Sonic; I think Classic Sonic has free control in the air, and you only play as him in two or three levels, while Modern Sonic’s levels are so completely filled with enemies and jump pads that you can just spam the jump button to string homing attacks through anything that isn’t a speed section. Places where the gameplay becomes frustrating aren’t as common as in other games I’ve played recently (L.A. Noire comes to mind), but that’s because the majority of the levels are ridiculously simplistic and easy, and when you reach the end without anything really happening you’re just like...

Which brings me, finally, to the worst part of the game: the story. This is among the worst video game writing I have ever seen... and as someone who does a lot of art for indie, amateur, and fan games, I’ve seen a lot of scripts from “idea guys” who’ve never taken any kind of literature or creative writing classes.

The basic premise of the story sounds interesting, and seems like a huge departure from the normal Sonic formula: Dr. Eggman and his new associate Infinite use the powers of all the major antagonists from past games to kill Sonic and take over the world. The remaining characters of the Sonic universe form a resistance movement (the forces in Sonic Forces) to fight back, and half a year later Your Own Character joins up after their home city is destroyed.

Damn, man! That’s pretty dark! Unfortunately, it completely fails to deliver. Unsurprisingly, Sonic isn’t dead... but he HAS been held prisoner and tortured for the last six months. Despite that, he’s in high spirits and joking with his captors... yeah I dunno, just bad writing ...and manages to escape when the resistance attacks the base and temporarily disables the power grid. Why Sonic was in a Laser Prison and wearing Laser Handcuffs that require uninterrupted power to operate is just more bad writing, as is the fact that he was being held on a space station and you’re never shown how the resistance got up there.

More importantly, it’s never explained how the resistance discovered that Sonic was still alive. There are other captives in the same area, so THEY would know he’s alive, but there’s never any indication that one of them managed to escape. Speaking of which, they’re all still imprisoned after Sonic breaks free, and I think the space station ends up destroyed... so those guys are probably all dead. That reminds me of another point: most of the levels just end at a random arbitrary point. You ostensibly have a goal that you’re trying to reach, but the goal markers are always, like, in the middle of a hallway, which looks no different from anywhere else, and there’s no cutscene showing what happens what the characters do after reaching their goal... the level just kinda ends.

Most of the game’s dialogue and exposition is in the form of radio conversations that occur on the map screen, which I can’t help but admit makes sense: media too often forces characters to be in the same place for scenes to occur, when logically they would’ve just spoken on the phone. The issue I have with this is that it really does make up the bulk of the game’s dialogue, and none of the conversations are ever that interesting. Honestly, more than anything it reminds me of the kind of story you’d see in a free-to-play mobile game... except there isn’t really any kind of story being told, just information being relayed. There isn’t any kind of character development, since the game expects you to already know who everyone is and what their paper-thin personalities are.

After Eggman spends six months taking over Literally The Entire World, and the resistance apparently does very little to stop this, Your Own Character joins up and things start happening instantly. They rescue Sonic, then Classic Sonic appears out of nowhere to save Tails from Chaos, the creature from Sonic Adventure. I guess they included him (Classic Sonic, that is; after this cutscene, Chaos is never seen again) to trick people into thinking that this game would be similar to the much more popular Sonic Generations. I think the plot of that game involved time travel, accounting for the two Sonics, but here they’ve retconned him as “the Sonic from another universe”.

Speaking of time travel and alternate dimensions, Silver and Blaze are in this game... I’m no big Sonic fan (in fact, Sonic Mania and Sonic Forces, both of which I played this week, were the first Sonic games I’ve ever beaten), but them being part of the resistance is kinda inexplicable. To my knowledge, Blaze is from an alternate dimension, but in Sonic ‘06 was somehow Silver’s partner or something in the post-apocalyptic future. In the end, I think Sonic saving the day included the elimination of the timeline in which Silver existed... so I’m not really sure what’s up with Silver and Blaze being in this game. Are they now retconned to just being normal people who live in the same place as everyone else?

I’m also really confused on how this game fits in with the rest of the series. Infinite’s power is to create autonomous physical virtual reality projections, and he uses it to create his own versions of the Chaos, Zavok, Metal Sonic, and Shadow... so in addition to being in continuity with Sonic Generations and Sonic Colors (the game the Wisps are from), you also have to include the Sonic Adventure games and Sonic Lost World. Again, I’m no expert on Sonic, but... I’m pretty sure at least a few of these games feature planets populated with humans, and not the hordes of bipedal animals that make up the only characters in this game. Is there just no official continuity at this point?

As an aside... every character you see in scenes like this are made with the character creator, but for some reason they’ve limited themselves to a very small number of models instead of just using a bunch of different random colors and other features. See that bluish-purple dog at the front? If you look closely, you can see five or six identical dogs in the background, all doing the same animation where they raise their guns up in the air.

I’ve gotten REALLY off-topic, which is basically a war crime with how long this post is already. Anyway, as I was saying before I derailed myself, once Your Own Character joins the resistance things happen super fast. Sonic is alive, Classic Sonic appears out of nowhere and punches the Chaos clone (which is subsequently never seen again, despite Infinite being able to create an infinite number of them), and Eggman for whatever reason reveals that his ultimate plan will be complete in just three days. I’m not really clear on what this plan is, but it involves a virtual reality projection of the sun... I don’t know, Majora’s Mask-ing the planet and killing everyone, maybe? Again, bad writing.

Sonic faces off against Infinite and, despite the player winning the boss fight, gets his $#!+ kicked in... and that’s when Infinite says, and this is an actual, verbatim quote, “You’re not even worth the effort to finish off”. I think I might actively hate the writers of this game. I feel like I should probably also mention that the boss fight takes place on the back of a giant snake that’s just kinda floating there, suspended in mid-air, above a forest that is also a casino?

It’s at this point that Infinite drops a prototype version of the Phantom Ruby, which is what gives him his powers. How did he fail to notice that he’d dropped something the size of a softball? How was he even carrying it? WHY was he carrying it, when the finished perfected ruby was already embedded in his chest and he’d been using it for over six months? If you expect these questions to have answers, well, that bold text in the last paragraph must’ve caught your eye and you’re just now at this point starting to read the post. Hello, welcome! The writing in this game is absolutely abysmal!

Your Own Character picks up the prototype ruby and holds onto it for the next three days... well, except for when they drop it while Infinite is looking right at them after a boss fight, and he doesn’t notice ...and at the end of the game, uses it to somehow get rid of the virtual reality sun. How do they know that the ruby is and how to use it? No idea. How do they get rid of the sun? Happens off-screen. Then, further confusing matters vis-a-vis whether the prototype ruby is invisible to bad guys, Eggman acts as if he saw it... despite it breaking and disappearing before he arrives. Weird.

Alright, backtracking a bit, I need to touch on the stupidest plot point in the game: the Phantom Zone. Well, I think it’s called Null Space or something, Eggman calls it “a little something the Phantom Ruby cooked up”, whatever that means... but it’s basically the Phantom Zone. A pocket dimension that supposedly contains literally nothing. Eggman opens up a portal into it, Your Own Character tries to save Sonic from it, and they’re both pulled in... man, that’s a scary concept, isn’t it? Being trapped in an empty void?

If a regular prison held Sonic for six months, and he only got out with help from the outside, then I can’t even imagine how long this will-- haha just kidding it’s twenty seconds this game was written by chimps.

Apparently “completely empty” means “filled with blocks you can run on”, and Sonic manages to get out... by double-boosting. There are a handful of levels where you play as both Sonic and Your Own Character at the same time (the “you’re next to me and I’m next to you” in the Hoobastank song you hear in that video), allowing you to use the Wisp weapons while also using Sonic’s super speed. You’ll also be prompted to “double boost” at set points, which consists of the characters jumping in the air, fist-bumping, and then... holding hands and somehow running even faster, I guess? I’m not at all clear on how this works, or how it broke them out of Null Space.

I’d be totally okay (bored, but okay) with the prototype ruby being responsible for them escaping, but that’s not how it’s presented: they’re meant to have escaped through the power of friendship and running really, really fast. I mean, I can come up with a reason it works, gimme a minute... uh... virtual reality... pocket dimension... gotta go fast.... gotta go faster faster faster faster faster... aha! Maybe it’s an empty, infinite void because it’s being created as you move through it, but the double boost allows them to move faster than it can be created, allowing them to break free? Yeah, that’s dumb but plausible in-universe. Too bad the writers made literally no attempt to explain it.

After that, it’s time for the big showdown with Infinite, the game’s hot new antagonist. Who is he, why does he hate Sonic, why is he working with Eggman? What kind of awesome boss battle will you have against him? Not explained, not explained, not explained, and it’s just a slight variation of the boss fight you have with Metal Sonic earlier in the game. You DO get an explanation of who he is if you play Episode Shadow, free DLC consisting of three levels that you played in the base game that serves as a kind of prequel. All of your juicy Infinite-related questions are answered: he’s a nameless mercenary who went all emo because Sonic beat him up. Oh. Well. That’s... lame.

This post is already over three thousand words, so I’ll wrap it up. After your boring rehashed boss battle with Infinite, he just kinda... runs away, never to be seen again, and you have to contend with Eggman and his giant robots. It’s not very interesting. Once the day is saved, you get this completely inane exchange between the characters, which in most games would be the worst bit of writing... here, it might be in the top five. Knuckles says that the fight is over, everyone can go home, there’s no longer a need for the resistance... but then Amy (or someone) says, “no, we’re just getting started!”, and Knuckles nods in agreement as if she didn’t just directly contradict him. As if two characters doing this isn’t bad enough, Tails then does the exact same thing all by himself, saying something like, “we won, the resistance is done, now we have to come together to save the world!” I think he also says something about just one person not being able to change the world, which I’m pretty sure runs contrary to a “one person CAN make a difference!” message the game had been going for earlier.

And... that’s about it. I have nothing more to say. This game is bad, anyone who defends it is lying to themselves, and it’s entirely possible that I’ve spent more time writing this unfocused rambling post than I did actually playing the game. I’m not a Sonic hater; the playground politics surrounding video games in the early nineties didn’t exist where I grew up, so to me Sonic has always just kinda been that series with the interesting music that I had no particular interest in playing. As I mentioned, I played through Sonic Mania at the same time as I was playing Forces, and loved it. It’s a bit on the hard side for someone who’s never played a Sonic game, but aside from a few annoying bits in Hydrocity and Oil Ocean, it’s a blast all the way through. That’s a great game... and Sonic Forces, in my opinion, is decidedly not.

Back in 2017 I made a post about the Metascore for Sonic Forces, and received backlash for it. I decided to wait until as many critics as possible had reviewed the game, and... never really felt like doing the update, so didn’t get around to it until now. So, how much of a difference does a year make in the review score?

Oh wow, it’s like I knew what I was talking about or something. Well, kinda. At the time I said that Sonic Forces didn’t seem like a bad game, based on what I’d seen of it. Having played the game for myself... I think my opinion is known.

#sonic forces #long post #very long post #extremely long post

[jeonsolar]

Miraculous Ladybug 2x16 Troublemaker *Commentary*

I’ve done this five? times. And some people like it. But I’m doing this simply because I find myself funny. And I need to empty my brain. So, I hope you guys enjoy my brain dump.

Ok. To start off, Thanks so much to @wild-mare-of-prosecution for giving me a link to this episode. Second, The Incredibles was awesome. 😊

Disney in Spanish? FB page is Russian? Episode in English? Wow, so multicultural.

21 minutes and two of those will be intro and credits? Sigh.

Who’s the villain again? Cuz this white dude seems like every villain in every movie ever.

Why is the mayor supervising the hotel? See? This is why the city is crumbling!

I don’t pity her because she signed up for that job. EVERYONE knows that’s how shity it is.

How French with all the kissing and lack of personal space.

Yo. Those posters make Jagged look more Jagged. That black shirt thing makes him look hot. Stop it with the 80’s clothes. Go simple and awesome.

I wish I had subtitles.

This show is about finding wives, right?

Fill my shoes?! What? That’s an entirely different show, and a bad name.

Only because he likes his adopted niece, Marinette. Also, those lace gloves are. . .  (doesn’t want to say but can’t help it) delicately feminine.

I agree Sabine. I agree.

Every homemade show like this that has real like people, they always look and sound completely out of their element. That’s how you know they’re not actors. Also, Marinette, stop being such a fangirl.

She uses the same stress reliever I do. It’s pretty annoying during exams. It annoys even me. But it also calms me down.

When. . . when did he make … the guitar? And … how? He . . . sucks … at … baking….

There’s signal.

Also, I know Asian people can be smaller than average, but this is a joke.

Holy FUCK! I thought they were going to put on Careless Whisper for a second there!!!!

Sabine knows, Penny does the same shit as Marinette.

Who is Adrien excited to see? Jagged, or the croissants?

MARINETTE? NOOO. No way. Adrien -Just a friend- Agreste, did not just say that…

*sings* Juuuustt aaaa . . . . friiiiiieeeeeeennnnddddd!

TOM HAS GREEN EYES? Girls really do go for their fathers.

I paused, and fucking shit, that hair on Tom looks so real -the beard-.

Marinette’s clumsiness deserves an award. That was impressive. Minimal effort too. 9/10

Upstairs and vague? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

… What’s with her screen saver? Did she have her computer recording Adrien while they were playing video games? That background is her room. I know someone else said it, but these are badly recycled screencaps. That could have at least made plain backdrops and they would have been believable.

If Marinette spent as much time finding where HawkMoth is as she does with collecting Adrien, Paris would be safe.

Play “Spot Random Pictures of Nino”, is fun. Which brings the question, they made random pics of Nino and they couldn’t do that with Adrien?

Adrien is dabbing in one of them.

After a throughout analysis of the pictures in Mari’s room I’m making the theory that Snapchat exists in their world and Mari just screenshots and prints Adrien’s feed.

Penny is so uncomfortable …. So am I. I don’t want to press play.

Plagg, you little shit.

Wait, how big is that house?

HOW BIG IS THAT HOUSE, THAT THEY HAVE TO REUSE THE STAIR ANIMATION?

ANOTHER FLOOR?

It would have been hilarious if Jagged had been dressed in the dress he’s holding. “Here I am modeling a Marinette original. Am I better than this model boy? I am a better model, aren’t I?”

R E S P E C T. ‘You heard the lady.” Well done Penny.

At least no one made a comment about her period. Also, is completely fair and about time she fucking put them in their place.

HOW DOES GABRIEL RUN A COMPANY IF HE SPENDS MOST OF HIS TIME WAITING IN THAT ROOM FOR SOMETHING TO HAPPEN, SO HE CAN DRAMATICALLY OPEN HIS WINDOW AND BE BAD?

Anime background again. Attack on titan?

I hate to admit, but I would have had the same panic attack. Social media is a bitch.

From that angle her hairstyle looked completely different and Mari looked more Asian.

What a strange lighting, it changes her eye color drastically.

“Plus, its too late already. The show’s live.” *marinette panics and looks at the camera* SOMEONE MAKE A GIF OF THAT AND SEND IT TO ME, ASAP! THIS WILL BE ALL I TEXT FROM NOW ON.

Sabine is a tiger mom and I L O V E IT! Also, Tom appears to be slightly intimidated by the tiny tiger mom.

Sabine is the best mom in the world. Tiger mom, kung fu mom. Caring mom. What else? Ultimately the most B A D A S S MOM IN THE WORLD.

Does… all of Paris have that same security system from Gabriel’s mansion? If so, why was Gabriel so confused by Chat knowing that that mansion had a security system?

What are you talking about? It’s perfect. You are already at the scene of the crime.

Adrien… that was lame.

What if Plagg only likes croissants because it reminds him of Tikki cuz she lives there… I’ll leave that one there for you guys.

Chat… You’re lucky you’re cute.

NO WAY HE LANDED LIKE THAT.

Sometimes I forget he does call her Bugaboo, and that’s not a head cannon.

No. I love Bugabo-

…. What if that was Astruc asking the fans to stop calling her Bugaboo?

Huh? My cat senses are tingling!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Why is Ladybug offering Chat Noir a tour of Marinette’s room? Why is Ladybug so uncomfortable of anyone seeing the pictures? Shouldn’t that arouse Adrien’s suspicion?

When teens hide pictures under their bed is because they do a solo bow-chick-a-bow-wow with them. Marinette has hit puberty. I don’t judge.

*Double checks Mari’s ‘porn’ stash* Adrien boxes?

JESUS CHRIST! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY PICTURES? AND WHY ARE THEY HIDDEN?

Nope. Concussion.

No way she’s that fast. Is ladybug frozen?

*Careless whispers plays in the background as LB and CN hold hands*Fun fact, I actually sang it as it was happening. I don’t kid when I say these are things I say outloud as I watch them.

This is a cool shot. I like it. The focus thing? I like it.

How does he dream it? Does Adrien also write fanfiction about how it will happen? Is Adrien hidden amongst our fanfiction writers?

Are you kitten me, Chat? You are gonna judge her?

Hahahaha, Like a gun. That’s funny.

What detective movies do they watch?

So they glued her to Ladybug…. And they earrings too? Does that mean Marinette can never take them off now? Wouldn’t it be smart to also do that to Chat?

Penny: “What… what happened? Where’s Jagged?”

Ladybug: “What happened? You fucked up my room, my life, and almost my secret identity! That’s what happened?”

Chat and Penny: O.O

Ladybug: “…. I mean…. You’re always so helpful…~”

How… she… she’s gotta stay. A…. and he gotta go….

Chat: “You’re the girl of my dreams.”

Ladybug: . . . . fuck off *pushes him off the balcony*

Smooth LB, smooth.

He’s British right?

Now that! That sounds like real Paris. I like that background sound.

NILYA!

…. This . . .. this looks a lot like that little joke I wrote a few months back…..

Also, Adrien, your sneaky chat is showing.

Adrien looked mad at Mari interrupting him. Adrien, your chat is showing.

Ok. The animation of their eyebrows was soooo exaggerated that they looked angry when they are supposed to be like …. Concentrated, or confused. Make those eyebrows smaller.

THIS IS INTENSE! ADRIEN IS GETTING SMART . . . AND SASSY!!

JUST A FRIEND MY ASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHA 8D I AM SO NOT PANICKING AT ALL!!! HAHAHAHAH -Marinette

Adrien your douche is showing.

Also, Adrien, shut up Chat noir. Adrien doesn’t know she hides them under her bed and sofa.

J U S T    A    F R I E N D

Mari’s boobs got bigger. Yes. I did notice. And if there is continuation to that I’ll accept it. She is in puberty.

Isn’t… isn’t that a parallel to another scene? It feels similar to the umbrella scene. The angles.

Tikki did us a favor of reminding us that Marinette is getting better at talking to Adrien. Thanks Tikki.

I just now realized the page I’m in is not facebook. But it looks like it.

----

I.... really like this episode. Ok , so here’s the deal. My brother got a microphone. If you guys want I can record these. Truth is, a lot of my commentary gets lost because of typing. I’m fast, but not THAT fast. I could try and do it like cinema sins.  And it could help bring back the timestamps. Your call. :)

 Thanks for reading.

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