#update: it is (sort of) done the place i decided on had on of those online form things so now i have 2 wait to hear back from them

[gyudons]

despicable

updates as of 22 oct

Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.

“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.

“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”

“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.

“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”

As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.

“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.

“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”

It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.

“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.

“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.

“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”

#nhl #pride #lgbt #gay #queer #hockey

[la-imp]

AVATAR RECOM HEADCANONS - INTRO

Recoms!Deja Blu Unit - Science"Puke"! Reader

This is my first headcanon series and I am incredibly nervous because there are so many good ones out there already. I have read quite a few amazing headcanon series by various blogs who practically carry the whole Avatar Fanfic scene, which I am really grateful for! I know these sorts of scenarios have been done a lot by now, but I wanted to get one out and put my own spin on it. I hope to write more and update this series as well as take in requests, one-shots, etc, expanding on the characters as much as I can. I hope you enjoy! Avatar has consumed my life, lol...

Disclaimer: I do not own AVATAR, nor do I own its creative properties and original characters. I do, however, own the 'reader' character as well as other created figures that do not appear in the Avatar films, video games, or comic books. Characters involved: Miles Quaritch, Lyle Wainfleet, Alexander Ja, Mansk, Zdindarsk aka Z-Dog, Zhang, Lopez, Fike, Warren, Walker, Prager, Brown - mentions of Jake Sully

Plot Summary: The story takes place during the events of TWOW, right before the great reef battle. I won't spoil any crucial plot details (for those who haven't watched the movie yet), so I'll end it there. The reader is a militant medic with a biochemistry background, now assigned special care to ensure Project Phoenix's success. As their body chemistry is quite different and unique from that of humans, they require some help getting used to their new vessel. This is where you come in... and boy... you were not prepared for this. A bunch of Na'vi Human hybrids at the peak of their prime, fuelled by hormonal rage, primal instincts, and a knack for vengeance, they sure as hell turned your daily life topsy turvy. To them, you were nothing more than another science puke here to bore them out of their minds,  even though you had some military training as well. It is up to you to show them otherwise. To earn a place in their ranks.

Will (y/n) be able to handle this task or eventually fold like the others?

Warning(s): Cursing - Mild bullying - Negging - Foul language - Playful flirting

Content: SFW (Minors DNI) The reader is human and female. I plan to write specific headcanons for each individual character, but this was just a very long and detailed starter in order to get the ball rolling. Also this is not proof-read, so take this with a grain of salt. Happy reading! (also English is not my first language, so please bear with me) ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hailing from a gentle background of academics and artists, you've decided to take a completely different route from what your family had destined for you. Going against their wishes and dissapointing a few members here and there was a price you were willing to pay in order to fulfill a lifelong dream. The prize of independence. Or perhaps you were tired of people telling you what you could and couldn't do. The idea of an adventure, exploring new worlds and galaxies, far far away from home was far more attractive than spending your years trying to fix a dying planet. But you also had a knack for helping and aiding those in need. Being a healer with a vast background of medicine and herbs only came natural to you. And as you graduated top of your class, you sought a new challenge. So you joined the space force. Military training was hard but you managed adquedately.  And as you finally becamea full-fledged medic, you signed a contract with the RDA to be shipped off to Pandora.

Save to say, the six years of light-year travel did take a toll on your body. It was often emphasized that dreams do not occur during cryo sleep. Yet, your case was the opposite. Over and over you saw visions of a lush, prehistoric forest that almost looked magical and foreign. Due to overpopulation and pollution, nature seized to exist altogether back on earth, so thinking of what this mythical Pandora may look like, sparked a fire in the pits of your stomach. You began to wonder if these dreams held any meaning to them... or if it was just your brain chemistry running haywire during the cryogenic sleep. The closer you got, the giddier you grew - excited and electrified at the idea of setting foot on one of the most precious planet known to man. Perhaps in the entire universe.

After your space shuttle finally docked at the RDA's space station, you were quickly briefed on your assignment by the announcers, guiding you to the nearest secretary. The secretary looked over her glasses and tossed you an illegible glare before sighing with a shake of her head, handing you your paperwork. "May God have mercy on you," she mumbled before calling for the next candidate. You took the papers hesitantly, brows furrowing in confusion before your eyes cast down on  on these said documents. Your eyes widened as your heart nearly sank. You were assigned to assist military Avatar personnel? You looked back up at the lady who was now grinning at you, a glint playing in her gaze. "Fresh meat for the grinder. It's a bit crass they decided to assign a small girl such as yourself to help these beasts," You slowly nodded, an awkward semi-smile forming on your lips, "I guess I like a challenge," you said, tone matching her sarcastic one. You have studied them for three years now, after all. You were prepared.

A few labcoats accompanied by a good portion of cleanroom suits were helping you find your way before passing you your exopack mask. It was the first time you'd ever seen one of those from up close. The concept of not being able to breathe the atmosphere was somewhat daunting. But it was something you had to get used to if you wanted to survive Pandora's 'Adapt or Die' rules. Wasting no time, you quickly strapped them on and secured the clasps, allowing the small piece of machinery to flood your nostrils with fresh oxygen. Impressed, you found it was much clearer and cleaner than that of Earth's... sadly enough.  You then remembered the comment from the secretary earlier on, echoing in your mind over and over again until it festered in the back of your subconscious. Anxiety began to take a hold of you, shaking your confidence ever so slightly.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you then issued a curt nod to your superiors who lastly gave you a clipboard, detailing all of your duties and rank among the Recom unit members. "Ready, greenhorn?" Dr. Vasquez piped up, drawing you from your trance. You blinked at him with a wide-eyed deer-caught-in-headlights look, lips parting, "Y-yeah." he chuckled in response to your nervousness before slapping a hand on your shoulder in confidence. "Don' worry, they may look very scary at first glance, but you will soon realize they are professionals just like us, alright?" You nodded, swallowing the lump down your throat before clamping the board beneath your armpit. "Alright then kiddo, let's rock'n'roll," he said with a smirk before punching in a security code to unlock the doors to the decompressors.

The air was filtered to fit the atmosphere of the recoms. Which was in turn, extremely toxic to humans. Unconscious in twenty seconds - dead in four minutes. The prospect didn't sound like very glamorous death. As the door opened, a hiss emitted from the pressure, giving way to the bright light of the sun peaking through the glass windows. Vasquez marched forward before beckoning you to join him. Upon entering, the energy of the room immediately shifted. It was almost palpable to the touch.

A good part of your confidence was chipped away once you laid your eyes on your future teammates. Breath nearly caught in your throat. To say they were tall was a big understatement. They were huge - as a matter of fact - larger than life! Nothing could've prepared you for this. Most of them stood at around ten feet and nearly scraped the ceilings if they hadn't been adjusted to meet their physiology. You continued to saunter forward, one tentative step at a time, eyes still glued to their physiques without so blinking an eye. Their bodies were even more strange, striking you with awe. Slender, graceful, svelte, yet powerful. The complexion was a deep cyan or darker powder blue, decorated in interesting patterns and luminescent dots, all accompanied by a long prehensile tail that idly swung from side to side, giving them a more animalistic edge. They were all broad-shouldered, even the women, as you scanned the room with all the blue-skinned individuals lurking about, their poise signifying a certain strength and fortitude that of a warrior. They could easily toss a person across the room and break every single bone in their body with one blow if they wished.

Eyes were striking like molten gold peering from the shadows, intensely following your every move. Their previous chatter immediately died down as their eyes glued to you and the other scientists. Vasquez took his position next to someone who seemed much more commanding and authoritive compared to the rest. He stood slightly taller and wore a khaki tanktop, exhibiting a set of toned, muscular arms placated on his hips. You caught a glimpse of his tattoo on his left arm. A black eagle. A remnant of his previous life? Or something to distinguish himself from the others, perhaps?

The way he walked with a certain swagger, taking a stance next to Vasquez, sharp yellow eyes peering into the hall, had you nearly choke on your own saliva. He was an intimidating man,  "As you all know, we are sent here to accomplish a mission that we couldn't last time. To hunt down and terminate the leader of the Na'vi insurgency, Jake Sully.  And in order to ensure our success, we have been assigned our personal medical officers who specialize in Na'vi physiology. They make sure none of us step out of line and patch us up during missions. Treat 'em with respect, ya hear? They are as much our responsbilities as we are theirs," his tone was a low, commanding drawl, hinting at his possible origin back from Earth. He also sounded a tad older than his bio stats suggested.

"Wait, we're going to have these science pukes tag along?" Someone groaned in the background.

Doctor Vasquez nudged you with his elbow before whispering something into your ear. So he was the colonel. Colonel Miles Quaritch. The leader of the first recombinant unit Deja Blu, the first Avatar squad produced by Project Phoenix. Vasquez then nodded and brought you and another male medical officer. Thankfully you weren't alone. And as you peeked into the crowd, practically feeling their eyes rake over your forms in a very scrutinizing manner, you wished there were more human scientists to accompany you. "Listen up Recoms," Vasquez announced, matching Quaritch's energy. Which you had noticed, was now glancing at you over his shoulder with a lazed stare. You quickly turned away, hating that all of their attention was on you now. Just great. "Those are your new medical officers," he gestured to both you and your counterpart, earning him a few whispers and hushed conversations between the Na'vi hybrids. The heavily tattooed individual grunted loudly, expressing a clear distaste at the fact.

You watched as the one with the camo cap began to chuckle before leaning over to the tattooed female with the mohawk, gossiping something into her ear. Your eyes narrowed at her, hoping to God they weren't talking shit about you. The male medic next to you semed quite nervous himself, almost glistening with a faint sheen of sweat whenever the light hit his complexion. Oh man... what a great start. "This here is Mr. Ryan," Vasquez said confidently and clamped a hand on his shoulder before pulling you to his side with a toothy grin, "And this is Miss (y/n). They're going to do a quick checkup on your vitals before we make land on Pandora. Their status reports will affect your mission. If you have any further questions regarding any of that, feel free to ask them. Good luck and have fun," he said before departing, giving you a two-finger salute before vanishing out the door.

For a moment, you wished he hadn't abandoned you so soon, but as you stood there, again with the hundred yard stare, you instantly began pulling out your clipboard, training your eyes on the papers rather than the giant soldiers around you. Quaritch cleared his throat before stepping forward, closing in on your proximity. The heat practically rolled off of him. Almost radioactive in a sense. "Right. Welcome to the crew," he said as a deep rumble of chuckles resonated within the hall. You flicked your attention back on them, seeing as their expressions turned from scrutiny to amusement. The one with the hat flicked his chin toward Ryan, "So you get to touch us all around?" Ryan nodded cautiously, "Yes, in a sense. We need to do some physical checkups to make sure your bodies haven't mutated or caught any diseases on the way here and-"

"So you're gonna be cupping my big blue balls, too?" he said, making an obscene gesture as the team burst out in synchronized laughter. Mr Ryan pursed his lips in frustration. You felt his pain, it was nearly palpable.

You were so not ready for this... "Shut your horny mouth, Ja!" one of the female recoms hollered, smacking him on the back of his head.

Judging by the 'joke', you came to the conclusion that they were full-blooded jarheads. You sighed before ticking something off your clipboard. "And what about her? Is she good with her small hands?" At this your eyebrows twitched before you began searching for the miscreant of this statement. Seeing as the one with the bandana had crooked a finger at you. "Man, she does look cute tho... tiny lil thing. What's good, mama?" their banter continued, slapping and fist bumping each other, having the time of their lives. What a fucking farce - you thought to yourself begrudgingly. The behavior reminded you of teenagers experiencing the surge of hormones for the first time. You couldn't believe Vasquez had vouched for their professionalism. Perhaps he was in on the joke as well. "Shut your pie holes. They're here to help, not entertain you, you fucking lowlifes. Treat'em with respect or I'll have your ass handed back to the infirmary, you get me?!" Quaritch's voice boomed, immediately silencing the lively chatter among his subordinates.

Looking over at the colonel, you saw his hardened, chiseled features directed toward you with an unreadable expression. His pointed ears were tucked back against his head as he issued you a small nod. You repaid him with the same respect and inclined your head in acknowledgment before moving on to your first patient. "Brown?" you said, louder than originally intended before you flicked your gaze around the room, searching for any response. "Steven Brown?" you repeated with a bit more clarity. The mohawk lady merely snorted with arms folded, watching you as you searched for your first victim. Suddenly a blue hand lifted, alerting you of your designated recom, seeing that he looked a little less grim and intimidating. Although equally large, he seemed a bit more approachable, in your eyes at least. With that being said, it wasn't exactly a joyride pushing and squeezing yourself through, as some of them actively made an effort of staying rooted to the spot, entertained at your slight struggle. You could have sworn hearing someone wolf whistle at you but you pushed those thoughts aside when you reached your destination.

He was slightly shorter than the rest, not that you could tell right away as he was seated on one of the benches slightly hunched over, his posture overly lax. Much like the others, he sported that classical short military haircut and fade. "Alright doc, whaddya got for me?" he drawled with a certain bite. You decided not to overanalyze everything, as you were already extremely nervous. You meanwhile scribbled down all of the data before setting the clipboard down, looking him in the eye. He remained there, sitting there in silence, monitoring you with a peculiar glint playing in his topaz irises. "Alright, Mr. Brown, could you please stretch out your right arm? I need to take some samples and check your haemogram if that is alright with you," you explained as you flashed him a polite smile while the convos in the background resumed.

Brown simply nodded and muttered a small 'sure thing' before complying with your wishes. Once he extended his appendage, you got a chance to examine it closely - realizing just how large and sinewy his arm was. The texture was interesting too, differing not much from human skin, save for the lack of arm hair. "Finding a vein shouldn't be a problem," you jest before pulling out a small device for blood sampling. It was not a syringe, but a highly advanced gadget that locked down on the skin cell before drawing a bit of blood. "Alright, just let me disinfect this real quick..." you continued before wiping the spot with a small disinfectant wipe, clearing it from any bacteria. The feeling of his skin was curious, smooth yet somehow rougher to the touch compared to human flesh. Pandora's rough climates had evolved them to become perfect survivors as even their skin was harder to penetrate.  Brown tilted his head to the side, ears swiveling curiously when you placed the blood-letting machinery against the crook of his arm. A small pinch broke through his flesh, extracting only a few tiny droplets. "There we go, that's about it-" Before you could continue, however, you caught Brown sending you a mischievous wink. "Didn't hurt at all, doc."

"Got what ya need, Miss (y/n) or... did I get that right?" you felt blood rush to your cheeks, heating your face altogether. They were trying to rile you up on purpose now... "(Y/N) right, but just call me by my first name. No need for being formal," hoping it would somewhat diffuse the awkward tension between you and the recoms. However, things did not go as planned when Brown's brows lifted for a short moment before his ears rotated in your direction, more attentive than before. "Well good to know, (y/n), looking forward to working with ya," your breathing became heavy to his deliberate teasing as he allowed himself to lean forward. You nearly jumped at his sudden intrusion "So (y/n), what does my blood test say?" just then the analysis was completed, giving you a clear stats report on his bloodwork.

"So far so good... bloodwork looks normal. Cholesterol is in the green and.... well..." His face faltered a bit, "What?" "be sure to consume fewer sugary drinks or sweets but other than that, you're fine. Wouldn't want you to be the first adipose soldier on Pandora," his features continued to crack "You calling me fat, doc?" he said before warming up to a smirk. You leaned away from him to avoid his sudden boldness. "Nah, just reminding you to be on your best behavior if you want to keep up with the rest, alright?" Brown scoffed with a shake of his head as you took your clipboard with you, writing down all of the info as well as checking a few boxes. "I'll get back to you later, just need to do the same with.... uh.. Wainfleet?" you asked, squinting your eyes to spot someone a bit taller and a tad bit more athletic looking. He lacked hair, like some of the others as he wiggled his fingers at you flirtatiously, a crooked smile plastered on his lips. "The one and only," you grunted in affirmation, feeling some of the dread returning before you headed over.

A sudden ticklish sensation and force tugged at the crook of your knee, having you to stumble and nearly fall flat on your face. Walker clicked her tongue with a roll of her eyes, "Come on Kevin, leave the poor girl alone already!" Quaritch's nostrils flared when he caught Brown fucking with you. A move of his tail that hooked around your leg in order to trip you. "You better secure that shit, Brown before I clip that thing off, capiche?" He growled, causing Brown to stiffen immediately. Eventually, he lowered his head and ears ".... yes sir... sorry,"

You managed to calm your thundering heart as you eyeballed Brown with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. What an asshole. Is that how it was going to be all the time? Good lord... how much you began to regret signing up for this particular unit. "Mr. Wainfleet?" you said softly, approaching the man cautiously as he eyed you up and down with that same grin on his face.

"Call me Lyle, sweetums. Only my mother calls me Mr. Wainfleet. So.... here to check the goods? Or maybe even get a feel?" Lyle chuckled before flexing his built physique, making you watch his biceps bulge and swell. The action made your throat dry out like the Sahara desert. Just what in the world have you gotten yourself into...

#avatar james cameron #avatar the way of water #avatar recoms #fanfiction #headcanons #avatar characters #characters x reader #what the hell am i doing with my life? #eventual romance #intro #miles quaritch #lyle wainfleet #z-dog #mansk #brown #prager #lopez #recoms #recoms x reader #fike #zhang #ja #walker #Jake Sully #foul language #flirting #fluff #sfw #wtf #reader insert

[genericpuff]

Do you have any recommendations for comics on tapas? I'm rather new to the app so I wondered if you had any. Sorry if someone already asked!

Oh, so many! Tapas was one of my OG homes waaay back in the day, when I was still getting into drawing comics (back then it was gag-a-days). I spent a lot of time reading comics on there and it was one of my first introductions to comic platforms in general (next to SmackJeeves, RIP).

Rock and Riot - 1950's LGBTQ+ gangster teenagers getting into shenanigans and turf wars. Very cute and fun and adorable <3

Monster Pop! - Monster girls who are besties! This one has some real gorgeous art especially if you like the original vibes of S1 LO, lots of bright beautiful colors and lineless shapes. The creator of this comic, mayakern, now develops comfortable and eco-friendly skirts with her wife and pals for plus-sized folks! (they have pockets!)

A BETTER PLACE - Young girl Hannah and her little brother Theo find something cool in the woods. Children becoming gods. This was one of those comics that had some REALLY cool "you had to be there" time travel elements that aren't quite as immersive in hindsight (I was one of those people who were there and DAMN it was awesome), but it's still absolutely worth the read and it operates as a sort of prequel to another one of Harry Bogosian's comics on the platform.

Fail by Error - This comic is long since done with, its creator having moved on to bigger things, but at one point in time, this was the titan series on Tapas, before the platform became predominantly BL's and isekais. Fail by Error was truly one of the best of the best of Tapas-hosted comics from its golden era of comedy comics. Also the creator made art for me once and I still have it! <3

(my babieees <3)

RandoWis - funny gag strip is funny ! He also draws an MMO-themed comic that - coincidentally - when I double checked, looks like it stopped updating in 2021 until two days ago. So yeah, good time to check that one out too!

Undying Happiness - Naomi takes a chance on love and decides to meet up with a guy she met online. He turns out to not look like the guy in the photos in the most hilariously absurd way.

Deep Fried Pudge - Okay, this is a really weird inclusion because like... this comic isn't good. This comic is painfully bad. Like, "roll your eyes into the back of your skull at your dad's stupid jokes" bad. This comic has not stopped updating daily since 2012. It literally just had its 11 year anniversary. Every update is just a single panel either making some pun or just stating very innocent, inoffensive opinions. There are four thousand of these things. And every single one is done with the same art style and joke structure as before, the comics from today look and feel like a 7 year old made them the exact same way they did 10 years ago, as if trapped in a hellish time capsule of its own design, and I love it, I freaking love it. Its existence quite literally defies human nature. Reading it and attempting to comprehend why it exists is like staring into the eyes of some Eldritch god that chose peace over chaos. Pudge will outlive all of us. Pudge will outlive the universe. All hail Pudge.

#there are definitely tons more that i haven't unlocked in my brain #i spent so much of my formative webcomic years on tapas man #i miss the way it used to be #like yeah ok it has actual branding and its own originals catalogue now #but what it is today is only a fraction of what it used to be in terms of its community and culture #i haven't been on tapas since 2020ish and like #it was a good decision to leave #but damn i miss it sometimes #there are some genuinely amazing hidden treasures on it that either got buried or just stopped updating but are still 100% worth reading #webcomic recommendations #tapas #tapastic #webtoon recommendations #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

[crystallizabethine]

In Which PIXAL Updates Her Relationship Status: A Pixane Valentine's Day Oneshot

Takes place sometime between March of the Oni and Secrets of Forbidden Spinjitsu

AO3 link HERE

(5158 words)

The sun had barely risen when Pixal got out of bed to start her day. Normally she allowed herself more time to recharge, but for some reason, she had awoken prematurely and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. She didn’t really mind though. There were plenty of things to be done, like getting a head start on the new project she and Nya were working on together. They had blueprints drawn up for advanced security updates for the monastery, as well as plans for making a bigger tech lab underneath their home. Pixal looked forward to having all of that open space down there to work on projects in. However, if they were to have their dream workspace, they’d have to build it first.

Pixal knew that Nya always slept in as much as she could help it before inevitably being woken up by whatever shenanigans the guys got up to, so she decided to leave her to her rest for now. She instead went to the living room and flipped on the overhead light (which she knew would have to be exchanged for the smaller lamps once Nya joined her) and started examining the papers scattered across the coffee table from last night’s brainstorm session. For once, Jay, Cole, Lloyd, and Kai hadn’t been hogging the couch. They had gone out with Zane for what Kai called a “bro night” and had refused to say where they were going. Nya and Pixal were able to actually get some work done with those hooligans (Nya’s words, not hers) out of the house. Pixal was grateful for what they had accomplished, but she had sort of missed Zane.

Speaking of Zane, Pixal heard clattering noises come from the kitchen a few rooms away. Zane must have gotten up early too to make breakfast for everyone. Either that or Master Wu was searching for one of his tea boxes. As Pixal made her way to the kitchen to check, she heard her beloved’s voice, frustrated as he rambled to himself.

“Is it that hard to stack the pots so that they don’t fall over when I open the cabinet? No, it isn’t! And why is the strainer in here?” Pixal stood in the doorway and watched for a minute as her partner kneeled before several open cabinets, roughly pulling things out, rearranging them, and then putting them back. “I have told them over and over that the strainer goes next to the mixing bowls! I swear I’m the only one who actually cares about organization in this damn kitchen.”

“Zane, do you want help with those?”

Zane whipped around, and the look of a crazed man was in his eyes, until they registered Pixal standing there, and softened.

“Pixal,” he began, “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to understand that you are agitated about the state of the kitchen and may require assistance.” Pixal replied, and gently took a pot from him, setting it in the cabinet where she knew he preferred it to go.

“Thank you, Pixal.” Zane gave her a small smile. “I am sorry you had to see me like this. I do not like to lose my composure like that around others.”

“Do not worry about it,” Pixal dismissed, “You have seen me in some of my worst moments. This is nothing. Also, I agree that the cabinets are usually organized in a lackluster manner whenever it isn’t one of us performing the task.”

Zane sighed, “I am glad that at least you understand my frustrations. When I tried to confront Kai about it, he acted like I was crazy.”

“Kai is a hooligan.” Pixal stated, matter-of-factly, and rummaged through the cabinets to find ingredients for pancakes.

“True.”

A comfortable silence settled between them as they mixed batter and started flipping pancakes.

“Pixal?”

“Yes?”

“. . .are you familiar with the concept of Valentine’s Day?”

“No, I do not think so.” Pixal was painfully aware that she had missed out on a lot of Ninjagian holidays over the years, due to little circumstances like the world being hellbent on trying to end every six months or so. There hadn’t been much time for anything more than a few Day of the Departed observances, and exactly one Winter Feast celebration. Pixal smiled in amusement at the memory of Kai and Cole accidentally getting tangled up in the monastery’s festive lights. Their faces had gotten so red.

“It is a holiday dedicated to lovers,” Zane explained, “a day set aside for couples to express their love for each other through the giving of gifts and spending time together.”

“Ah, I see.” It sounded lovely, Pixal thought. “When is the next one?”

“It’s. . . today, actually.” Zane launched a pancake into the air and caught it with the skillet. After putting it with the growing stack of golden cakes, he diverted his full attention to Pixal. “I was hoping that you would agree to go out on a date with me this evening.” He took her hand and held it to his chest. Pixal found herself mesmerized by Zane’s bright blue eyes, staring back at her with such passion. Such beauty. Pixal figured she could get lost in those eyes.

“I would love to, Zane.”

“Good,” Zane said, relieved.

Pixal realized something suddenly, “I am curious why you waited until the very last minute to ask me this though. That is not like you at all.” Usually when they planned a date, it was at least a week in advance.

“You are right and I apologize for not giving you more time to prepare.” Zane said, looking rather embarrassed. “I must admit that I have been preoccupied with a personal Project, and time flew past me. I also may have assumed that I’d already asked you. Thankfully, Cole and the others reminded me that I in fact hadn’t, last night. . . They also thought it was funny.”

Pixal sighed fondly, “Oh, my Zane, for a nindroid, you can be so scatterbrained sometimes.”

Zane smirked at her, “Yes, but you love me anyways.”

“That is true.”

* * *

Pixal had no idea what she was going to do for Zane’s gift. Luckily, she knew just who to go to for advice.

“You’ve never done Valentine’s day before?” Nya asked, confused. She tightened a bolt on one of the generators she was repairing. “Haven’t you and Zane been together for like forever? I need a bigger wrench, could you grab the one next closest to you?”

“Well yes,” Pixal mused, handing her friend the tool. “It is unfortunate that Zane and I have never gotten the opportunity to do this before. He perished to the Overlord before we were able to spend any domestic time together, then I was scrapped by Clouse’s men and shortly after, got stuck in Zane’s head for months. Then I left his head to become Samurai X. I have not even been reunited with him in my physical form for a full year.”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t help you two that the almost-year has been full of jerks trying to end the world,” Nya added in sympathy. “But you know what? That changes tonight!” She put her tools down and wiped her dirty hands on her apron. “So, what did you have in mind?”

“That is the tricky bit. I have no idea,” Pixal admitted. “What are some traditional Valentine’s Day customs? Zane told me about the rituals of giving gifts and spending time together, but what does that usually entail?

Nya thought for a minute, “Well, it honestly depends on what you and your partner—or—partners’ are interested in, but chocolate and flower bouquets are a popular choice for gifts.”

“Zane does not have a sense of smell, nor taste buds.” Pixal stated.

Nya smirked sheepishly, “Right, yeah, I forgot. So that rules out a dinner date then.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“That’s okay, “Nya reassured, “There’s still plenty of options! What are some things you guys like to do out, just the two of you?”

“We often go on patrols together.”

“That’s. . . something I guess, doesn’t seem very romantic though.”

“Why not?” Pixal asked, puzzled. “We enjoy each other’s company immensely and have had many meaningful conversations. Between that and our battles together,  I always feel myself grow more fond of and more attracted to him during each mission we spend together.”

“Noted, but that’s something you do all the time! What could you do tonight that’s extra special?”

Pixal had never really thought about doing anything else with Zane. They had their routine, and to her knowledge, they both enjoyed it equally. But maybe Nya had a point. It couldn’t hurt to try something new could it? It was supposed to be a special night, after all.

“How about this,” Nya proposed, “you think on it, and I’ll take you out around Ninjago City to find Zane a gift!”

“That sounds satisfactory, and also enjoyable.” Pixal agreed. She had never been shopping with another person before, and she was excited by the prospect of trying something new with Nya.

* * *

The first place they went on their adventure out was a little place called Ninja Subs. A bell tinkled as they entered, and Pixal immediately noticed the abundance of food pop art crowding the walls as well as the counter at the end of the room filled with an arrangement of sandwich toppings.

“Why are we here exactly?” Pixal asked, not seeing how a sandwich place would yield much in the way of a Valentine’s gift.

Nya approached the counter, eyes shining as she looked at all the food options, “This stop’s for me actually. If we’re gonna be shopping all day then I need some energy. And I’ve also really been craving their buffalo chicken sub.”

After Nya’s lunch break, they went to a variety of small shops in the downtown area. Unfortunately most of their wares fell into the “needs a sense of smell” and/or “needs taste buds to appreciate these things” category.

“How about this?” Nya held up a set of pale blue ceramic bowls across the room from Pixal, who had been trying to make sense of some abstract paintings that were also being sold there.

“Those would be a practical gift,” Pixal considered, then remembered, “but I think he is planning on purging our current kitchen wares, so I probably shouldn’t buy him any new ones until he is finished. He has a very particular system, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Nya grinned, “He chewed Kai out the other day for just—throwing all the silverware in the drawer without sorting them. I didn’t even know Zane could get that mad! It was kinda amazing to witness, not gonna lie.”

“One would think that the same person who refuses to use a big spoon would also care about organization.” Pixal commented while checking the price on some oven mitts.

Nya giggled. “We love Kai.”

“Yes, despite his odd behavior at times.”

“Oh by the way, don’t tell anyone, but apparently Cole is going to ask him out tonight!”

“Oh , First Master, finally!”

They left that shop soon after. Pixal hadn’t been satisfied with anything in the end, so they continued on, emptyhanded. None of their other stops proved fruitful either, and Pixal was beginning to grow irritated.

“None of these places seem to have anything important enough for a Valentine’s gift worthy of Zane!” Pixal groaned in frustration, “I do not understand: he has given me so much over the years, and I cannot even decide on what to give him for the first proper celebration of our love? I feel so pathetic! I do not want to disappoint him!”

Nya put an arm around Pixal, “C’mon, Pix, you got to give yourself more credit and appreciation than that! You’re amazing! It doesn’t take being head over heels in love to see that you’re a wonderful person. And Zane would be happy with whatever you give him, no matter how unimportant you think it seems. And honestly, knowing Zane, you could probably show up with nothing and he’d just be overjoyed to spend time with you!”

Pixal’s heart warmed at her friend’s kind words. “Thank you, Nya, but still, if this holiday is as special as you and Zane have made it out to be, then I truly want my gift to make him feel the happiest he has ever felt.” Pixal thought for a moment, then an idea struck her. “Nya, what is your happiest memory of being with Jay?”

Nya didn’t answer right away. She pursed her lips in thought, taking a minute to ponder the question suddenly thrust upon her. Then her face brightened. “Honestly, even though I was pretty sure we were about to die, it was when he asked me to be his Yang.” Nya gazed at her necklace and played with it with a soft look on her face.

Pixal fixed her eyes on the pendant. It glistened in the light, and the light sparked a realization:

That was it.

“Then I will ask the same of Zane.”

Nya’s attention snapped back to Pixal, eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, Pixal, really? Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Pixal answered with determination.

“It’s a really big commitment,” Nya reminded, “Are you positive you’re ready?”

“Absolutely. Zane and I already share an unbreakable bond, but I think it would be nice to make an official promise to each other.”

Nya beamed, and quickly pulled Pixal into a crushing hug, “I’m so excited for you then!” Pixal hugged her back, anticipation rising in her chest at the prospect of what she had just planned to do.

When Nya finally released Pixal from the hug, she said, “Come on, before you pick out the pendants, I want to take you somewhere.”

* * *

“I do not understand why we are here.” Pixal looked around the store they’d just entered. There were shelves and shelves of folded up clothes, and rows of dresses hanging along the walls. Some of the dresses and several outfits were displayed on mannequins with varying body types.

Nya started pulling dresses from racks and holding them up to Pixal. “I just thought we could find you something nice to wear, since tonight’s going to be extra special!” Nya grimaced and quickly pulled her hand away from the dress she had just grabbed, wiping it on her pants. “Well, that was a horrible texture! Don’t touch that one.”

            “Is there a problem with what I normally wear?” Pixal asked, perplexed.

            “No, of course not!” Nya assured quickly. “But I find that when I’m about to do something big, looking extra nice gives me an extra boost of confidence. So, I want to help you feel that too!”

            “I suppose that makes sense,” Pixal mused. “Although I feel like I always look my best, no matter what I wear.”

            “Yeah you do, girl!” Nya agreed, smiling.

            “I think you always look your best too.”

            Nya’s cheeks tinted, “I mean—if you think so, thanks! I wish I had your confidence about that.”

            “How do you mean?” Pixal asked, incredulously, “You are one of the most confident people I know!” Pixal couldn’t imagine how someone as unapologetically herself as Nya could possibly have low self esteem about something as trivial as personal appearance.

            Nya shrugged, “It’s cause Kai and I grew up poor. We barely had enough money to feed ourselves, let alone buy pretty things. Because of that, a lot of the girls in my village treated me like worthless garbage, just because I couldn’t take care of my body as well as they could. It really sucked and I hated myself for a really long time because of it, even though Kai told me they were being stupid.”

            Pixal took her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze, “I am so sorry, Nya, that was extremely shallow of them and you should not have had to suffer like that for something out of your control.”

            Nya squeezed back with a small smile. “Thanks, Pix. I’m just glad that I eventually learned to put more value in what I can do to help people rather than in how I look.” She reached for another dress, “though looking good while helping people doesn’t hurt anything. Ooh, what do you think of this one?”

            Pixal ended up picking out a sleeveless, knee length, sparkly purple dress. Despite her initial protests, Nya had insisted on buying it for her. Pixal had relented only when Nya had told her to call it a valentine’s gift from a friend.

Next stop was to pick out the Yin Yang pendants.

Incense was burning as they entered the dimly lit jewelry store and were greeted by the person behind the counter, though Pixal noticed the crystals first. There were baskets of them, stuffed into every nook and cranny that could spare an inch of space. Next she noticed the sound of chimes softly tinkling from the ceiling. They must have caught the breeze from the shop door, Pixal figured. Crystal shaded lamps cast marbly, colorful shadows over everything.

“This feels like the kind of place Mystake would have enjoyed visiting,” Nya whispered. Her eyes were wide as she took in the serene beauty of the shop.

“I wish I could have met her,” Pixal remarked. After a short scan of the store, she found what she was looking for: a glass case full of necklaces stood by the payment counter, its contents sparkling under the lamplights.

The store owner came over, “Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

Before Pixal could answer, she felt an arm drape across her shoulders.

“Yeah, actually,” Nya replied, flashing an extra friendly smile at the shopkeeper. “This lucky girl is going to ask her partner to be her yang tonight! Got anything extra special?”

The store clerk’s face lit up, “Well, congratulations, then! Yeah, I actually got a new batch of them about a week ago! One of my partners, Jade, actually makes them herself! There they are in the corner!” the storekeeper excitedly pointed to an androgynously dressed person with tattoos on their arms, who was busy organizing one of the many baskets of crystals. They gave a small wave of acknowledgement and kept sorting.

“Love you, Jade!” the shopkeep called fondly, then turned back to their customers.

“Anyways those necklaces have been selling like crazy.” They continued, “I had to put them in a box behind the counter because some dumbass kids kept trying to steal them! Can you believe it?” They went back behind the counter and bent down to retrieve the box. With a proud flourish, they set it on the counter and opened it.

Pixal gasped softly at the sight; the lamp light shone gently on the intricately carved pendants. Some were made of wood, some of metal, some of glazed clay, but all were astoundingly well crafted. Each set had its own unique details too: there was one pair that had tiny stars etched into the edges of every groove, and another with vines and leaves meticulously painted on.  However, Pixal’s eyes were drawn to a particular ceramic set. They were painted the respective Yin Yang colors of black and white, but there was also gold imbedded in both. Thin, spidery veins of gold, following what looked like cracks in the charms, but was all held together by the gold, as well as a transparent glaze that coated both pendant pieces.

“May I get that one?” Pixal pointed to the set.

The shopkeeper’s face lit up, and with enthusiasm, then said, “Absolutely!” As they handed it to Pixal, they called over their shoulder, “Hey Jade, I told you this one would sell!”

“The ugly one? Really? I mean to each their own, but. . .”

Pixal wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I think it’s beautiful,” she said.

The shopkeeper rolled their eyes. “Don’t listen to them, she’s just salty because it wasn’t supposed to shatter like it did. But you made it work, didn’t you?” they called back to their partner, “I’m telling you, the gold infused really adds a special touch! And the cracks make it more symbolic in a way! It could symbolize broken people coming together and becoming whole or something!”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so!” The shopkeeper retorted as they processed Pixal’s payment. “All of your art is beautiful and I’m proud of you every time you make something new! You are SO talented!”

“Augh, no, too many compliments!” Jade covered their face, “You’re gonna make me cry!”

Pixal felt Nya’s hand grab her arm, and they both left quickly, unsure what to make of the odd couple. Especially when they peeked through the shop window and saw that the two were now passionately making out.

“You know what. . .” Nya said, “Good for them, I hope they stay happy together.”

Pixal nodded in agreement, and then turned her attention to the small bag that contained her precious purchase. Excitement bubbled up inside her and let itself out in a giggly squeal.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, Nya!”

“Me too!” Nya squealed back, and hugged her tightly once again before they started walking again, their mission fulfilled.

* * *

That evening, Pixal made her way down to the foot of the monastery and felt her face light up at the sight of Zane standing next to his ice bike. He wore light blue and white sweater vest with a bow tie and khaki pants. He looked just as excited to see Pixal as she was to see him. The amount of adoration radiating from his face warmed her inside.

“You look beautiful, Pixal.” Zane whispered, almost like he could barely get the words out. Pixal looked away shyly, smiling from the praise.

“Thank you, Zane, so do you.”

Pixal could have sworn that in that moment, if Zane had blood, he would have blushed bright red. Instead he just looked surprised and embarrassed and muttered a thank you while smiling. He opened the car door and gestured for Pixal to enter the vehicle.

“So where are we going?” Pixal asked, suddenly remembering that she had forgotten to brainstorm possible activities. Honestly, she was just as bad as Zane sometimes!

“Somewhere special,” Zane replied, “but it’s also a surprise.”

Relief flooded Pixal and she smiled sweetly at him, “I will look forward to arriving, then.”

They drove out to where the sea of sand started. The sky was beginning to turn pink as the car went over a hill and Pixal saw something tall and glittering in the distance. As they got closer, Pixal realized it was a temple, and her scanners indicated it was made of. . .ice?”

“Zane, did you build this all by yourself? Pixal asked in wonder as they parked near it and got out of the car.

“I did!” Zane beamed with pride. “It took me all afternoon to complete.”

“It’s magnificent!” Pixal exclaimed in awe, and it was! The structure towered upward at six stories tall, and the attention to detail was astoundingly immaculate. From the individual roof tiles to the glowing, ice crystal lanterns hanging from every corner.

“This only took an afternoon??”

Zane chuckled, “Wait until you see the inside!”

He took her hand and led her to the double doors, which opened at a wave of his hand. The room they had entered was full of gently glowing, heart shaped ice sculptures. The glow was a peaceful looking pink, and the color’s warm hue contrasted nicely with the surrounding, chilly blues of the walls.  An ice chandelier hung from the ceiling, and starting along one wall, a flight of stairs wound upwards and out of sight.

Zane tugged on Pixal’s wrist with the excitement of a kid showing off their bedroom. “Come on!”

He led her up the flight of stairs. On the second story, there was a door. Zane opened it. and it showed a life-sized ice rendition of what Pixal recognized to be part of the lobby at Borg Tower. Two sculpted figures stood there, facing each other. It was Zane, how she had first seen him, and herself. Ice Pixal's face was neutral as she stared at Zane, frozen mid-scan. Zane’s face could only be described as lovesick. Pixal smiled fondly.

“I hope you understand that this was the most important day of my life.” Zane said, also smiling at the memory’s depiction.

“Even though I tried to kill you later that night?” Pixal teased.

“Yes,” Zane chuckled, “even then.”

The next story's room showed them doing spinjitsu together in Ed and Edna’s junkyard.

“That was right after you had given me half your heart!” Pixal remembered aloud.

“Yes, and even though I had just given a part of myself away, it was the first time in my existence that I had truly felt whole.”

“I had felt whole for the first time as well! Like I had finally found my greater purpose: a purpose to help others!” Pixal felt a surge of nostalgia for that moment.

The next room was one that Pixal didn’t recognize right away. A sculpture of her hugged a sculpture of Zane, who appeared to be cowering in fear beneath the gaze of a fearsome dragon.

“It was in that cave on Chen’s island, after we had all been freed, and you were—”

“In your head,” Pixal finished. “But. . . I was not present physically in that event. Why do I appear to be here?”

“You may not have been there in person,” Zane started, “but you were closer to me than you had ever been, and it truly felt like you were present beside me as you guided me through my hallucination. You helped me face my fear and become stronger despite it, and I will be forever grateful.”

The next room showed the aftermath of the Destiny’s Bounty’s crash into the Primeval’s Eye. Ice Pixal stood facing Zane, her Samurai helmet freshly removed, and Zane’s ice counterpart stared back at her with an expression of pure joy.

The same expression Pixal hoped he would wear on his face when she asked him to be her Yang forever.

Lastly, there was a room where there was no sculpture. It was the top floor, Pixal realized, and there was a balcony that looked out over the sunset on the white sands of the winter desert. Pixal could almost forego logic and imagine it was snow she was looking at instead of sand. It was truly so beautiful. Everything Zane had shown her was beautiful. The palace, those tender moments from the past, the kind words and gratitude he had given her throughout the evening,  it all made her feel so special! Despite the known importance of her planned proposal, a little part of Pixal wondered if she’d done enough.

“You’re so quiet,” Zane remarked, “do you. . . like it?” He looked at her with excited expectancy.

“I—yes, Zane, of course I like it, how could I not?” Pixal gestured wildly to everything around her, “It is obvious that you put so much care and thought into every miniscule detail of this place. It is truly incredible, and I. . . I love it! And I love you.”

Zane smiled in relief. “Good. I have one more gift for you.”

“Before you do that,” Pixal interrupted, “I would like to give you the gift I have prepared.” She continued on before Zane could protest. “Zane, you have given me so much. Not just today, but ever since we met. You gave me free will, a new chance at life, your ever-growing trust and support, and your continued companionship. However, in the past, I—despite knowing it to be irrational—found myself feeling that I could never come close to paying you back for everything you have done for me, even though you have done nothing but express your gratitude for my involvement in your life since we arrived here. You have made it clear that simply being myself is enough to make you happy. So, as of now, I am done second guessing my worth in our relationship, and now stand before you with a wish to further strengthen our already unbreakable bond.”

Pixal kneeled, head raised, looking her beloved Zane straight in the eye. “I do not know what the future holds, but I know that no matter what happens, I want you to be there with me always. So. . .” She revealed the necklace to him, “. . .will you be my Yang?”

Zane didn’t answer, but simply stared at her with wide eyes and lips slightly parted.

Pixal felt a twinge of worry, had she said something wrong? “I am sorry I didn’t plan anything more for tonight. I “psyched myself out” as Nya put it, and couldn’t figure out any other gift that I thought you might want.

Zane continued to look at her. Pixal was unsure of his expression.

“Please say something, Zane, it doesn’t even have to be yes. I understand if you wish to keep our relationship how it is, and I will respect whatever your decision is. I will love you no matter your answer.”

Zane finally snapped out of it and grabbed Pixal’s hands. “Of course, Pixal, yes, an infinite amount of times, yes!” Zane’s blue eyes shone even brighter than normal as he picked her up, spun her around, and then pulled her into a kiss after he’d set her down. When they separated a few seconds later, Zane began to giggle.

“What is it?” Pixal asked.

“I was so nervous about tonight,” Zane explained, reaching into his pants pocket, “But you ended up beating me to it!” He pulled out something and put it in Pixal’s hand. Upon examination, Pixal gasped at the sight of a handcrafted necklace set. The pendants were made out of intricately woven silver wires and bright blue crystal, and she realized the halves combined looked like—

“It represents your—our—energy core!”

“Yes! I know it does not have the appearance of the traditional charms, but I felt it would be right for us.”

Realization hit Pixal suddenly. “Oh no, I ruined your moment, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Zane!”

“Pixal, it’s alright.” Zane assured her, caressing her face. “I definitely was not expecting it, but it was a nice surprise. I’m just glad you feel the same way.”

“Of course I do!” Pixal assured, “You are so wonderful, Zane, and I want to spend the rest of my days with you.”

           

“And I with you, my beloved Pixal.”

The last thing the sun saw before dipping behind the horizon was two titanium lovers holding each other tightly, promising never to break their bond as long as they both shall live.

@ninjago-valentine-exchange

#ninjago valentine exchange #pixane #ninjago fanfiction #pixal x zane #they're my otp for real #lego ninjago #ninjago pixal #pixal borg #ninjago zane #zane julien #nya ninjago #nya smith #nya jiang #ninjago nya

[knight-engale]

a strange request.

pairing: kuras/oc, kuras/mc

words: 1.6k

summary: after receiving an odd request from morgan, kuras decides to check on her, concerned for her safety.

warnings: accidental/involuntary voyeurism, references to religious guilt

a/n: inspired by a prompt @popcornaddict500 mentioned to me a while ago. i would have made this an "x reader" sort of thing but due to the nature of the fic, it just didn't work out without being awkward, so instead enjoy my mc i guess lol

Kuras quietly flipped through his patient notes, occasionally writing something down. He was always so busy tending to the sick and injured that it was rare that he had a moment to thoroughly review and update his records. There was always so much catching up to do…so much work to be done.

He was so absorbed in his record-keeping that he almost didn't notice the sound of someone knocking at the door. Only when it became more insistent did he look up. He quietly tucked his notes away and went to answer it.

“Good afternoon, how may I help you…” His golden eyes turned downward, his eyebrows lifting slightly when he realized who it was. “Ah, hello Morgan. Come in.”

He stepped aside, allowing the young woman to enter. She looked rather embarrassed, pulling her cloak a little more tightly around herself as she came into the office.

“Hello, Kuras… Thank you for letting me in.”

“Of course. How are your accommodations at the Wet Wick treating you?”

“It's been fine… Relatively comfortable, though I do wish I had ear plugs.”

Kuras gave that comment a small smile, his eyes shining pleasantly. “Is that why you've come to me?”

“No… I, um. You said I could see you if I needed anything, right?”

“That is correct.”

“Then…could you tell me if there's any…sources of water near the city…?” Morgan fidgeted with the hem of her cloak, her pale green eyes fixated on the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. Kuras looked at her in surprise for the second time today.

“Sources of water? There is the river, I suppose… Why do you need one?”

“Ah…just…just because. It can't be the river, though… I need it to be more private than that. And cleaner.”

“I see. Unfortunately, I cannot recall any other water sources… There are public wells scattered around the city, which are free to anyone. Could you not use one of those?”

“No… It has to be bigger than that, and private. Please.”

Kuras considered her for a long moment. She was clearly distressed about this issue. He felt bad about disappointing her, but there wasn't much of a choice. He eventually let out a quiet sigh. Words came from his mouth before he could stop them.

“...There is one place I'm aware of that may provide the privacy you desire. However, I cannot in good conscience recommend it to you. I highly doubt it would be…safe.” He regretted speaking even as the words left him.

Morgan looked up. A few locks of her dark blue hair fell in front of her face. “What is it? The spot you're thinking of?”

He sighed quietly. “There is a freshwater spring outside of the city, to the west. It is fairly secluded.”

“That's perfect! To the west, you said?”

“Yes…but Morgan, I cannot stress enough that the safety of this spot is dubious. There is no shelter there; it is open and exposed to anything that may be nearby. Soulless are more common outside the city. I ask you to not go there.”

“If you didn't want me to go there, you shouldn't have told me about it.”

Kuras didn't have a good response for that. She was right; he shouldn't have mentioned it. But he couldn't retract it now. She looked determined to go out to the spring regardless of his warnings.

“Unless you have anything else to tell me, I should get going now. Thank you for your help.”

“...I've nothing else to tell you. I only request that you think about this. Lowtown may not be the safest of places, but it's still better than being alone and exposed out in the wastes. For your own well-being, I urge you to reconsider. The wells and river may not be ideal, but-”

“I appreciate your concern, but I can't do that. I'll be fine. Won't be outside the city very long at all.” Morgan didn't give him a chance to respond to that before leaving. Kuras stared at the door for a while after she left.

She was going to get herself killed, and it was going to be his fault. More needless death that he had failed to prevent.

Another knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts. More work, no doubt. He took a deep, regretful breath to steel himself before answering the door again.

~~~

Half an hour passed before Kuras had a chance to slip away. He wouldn't usually leave during the middle of the day like this, but Ais was looking after the clinic for now, and…he couldn't get the idea of Morgan, alone and without any protection, out of his head. The guilt was eating him alive. He never should have told her about the spring.

His only consolation was the hope that, if she had been attacked, she'd only be injured and not killed. Injuries could be mended, but death was far more difficult to fix.

That hope is what drove Kuras as he swept through the city streets. Perhaps there was a chance that she was alright, and he'd been worried for nothing. However, if she wasn't, at least he'd likely be able to save her.

People in the streets practically jumped out of his way as he went by. Few people wanted to be in the way of someone so imposing who was walking with such purpose. It made the trek to the west side of the city much easier. He hesitated to leave it, though. The fear of what he may find if a Soulless had gotten to her was uncomfortable, to put it lightly. But he'd come so far already. There was no point in turning back…and he would surely regret it if he did. He'd rather know, even if he wasn't sure he'd like what he found.

Eventually he found the courage to continue on his little mission and left the city borders. He knew the way to the spring by heart, so it didn't take long. The little spring was surrounded by moderately sized stones and tall, if scraggly, shrubs, giving some semblance of privacy. Just what Morgan had desired. None of the shrubs or stones seemed to have been disturbed. There was no sign of Soulless in the nearby area.

More importantly, he could hear humming. It was unmistakably Morgan's voice. He took great care to be as surreptitious as possible as he approached.

There, standing in the shallower areas of the water, was Morgan, bathing herself. She was unharmed, and apparently not even slightly frightened or bothered by the riskiness of her current situation. Her clothes were neatly folded near her, and a bucket and washcloth were settled within arm’s reach. Heat rose in Kuras's cheeks as she stood up straight and stretched.

He had, of course, seen her naked body before when he saved her from dying out in the wastes. But that had been under purely professional circumstances. There had been nothing particularly attractive about cutting away her clothes and stitching her back together.

This, though? This was…different. This time, she was awake and well. This time, it was impossible to not notice the delicateness of her waist or the way her back arched when she raised her arms over her head. He couldn't help but stare a little at her generous thighs and wide hips, the way they swayed gently as she washed herself. The way the water rolled down every curve and contour of her body as she emptied the bucket onto herself was captivating. And her breasts…they were the most perfect pair he'd ever seen. Her whole body was perfect, really. It had been ages since he'd seen a body so beautiful. So divine, in the literal sense of the word; she could have been easily mistaken for one of his own kind in a human form.

The more he stared, the faster his heart began to beat. The warmer his face became. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the living work of art standing in the spring. His gaze lingered on her while she ran her washcloth along her flawless golden-bronze skin. Even her hands and forearms, discolored and crisscrossed with gold fissures, were beautiful, regardless of the curse he sensed in them. A living work of art indeed.

But she was no mere painting, either. No painting had ever made him feel quite like this. This…mortal. This fallible. If he was being honest with himself, not many people made him feel this way nowadays, either. Very few could awaken this deep, sinful hunger in him. And yet she, this woman he'd known for less than a full week…

Morgan's head began to turn in his direction. Kuras ducked down, hoping he was fast enough that she hadn't spotted him. If she had, she didn't cry out in surprise or even speak a word. He sat on the hard, dusty ground, trying to settle himself. As if accidentally seeing her in such a vulnerable situation wasn't bad enough, his mind couldn't shake the mental image of her, either. He almost couldn't help but feel…dirty. Dirty, and greatly intrigued, captivated by the spell her image put on him.

He would…have to consider these feelings more later. Privately. And perhaps, if he concluded that he hadn't done anything wrong in thinking of her in such a sinful way…perhaps he'd say something to her. He wasn't sure what he would say, but he felt the need to express his...appreciation of her beauty somehow. Perhaps this was a rare mercy, a god-given opportunity to fill the void of loneliness in his ancient heart. Only time would tell.

#touchstarved game #touchstarved fanfic #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved oc #kuras x mc #tw voyeurism #tw religious mention #morgan the oracle #the oracle's angel #morkuras #this is so self indulgent.. #*pats kuras* this baby can fit so much catholic guilt

[presdestigatto]

I doubt Charles and Max ever could be friends. Both are too competitive and I feel like Max would stop being too nice to Charles once things doesn’t go his way. I know everyone believes it’s Charles who would hate Max again if they start to fight for Championship again but for me it’s Max, he already showed annoyance toward Charles in those moments.

Hey anon! Thanks for sending something in, but damn, prickly topic. I have some time on my hands now so I’m going to go extra in depth with my thoughts on this

It’s quite difficult to speculate on the future state of their relationship, because we’re dealing with a lot of hypotheticals and we quite literally only know what they decide to show us, publicly. For all we know, they could secretly be besties who text every night. Though, I do agree with you (or what you implied) that they aren’t friends on a personal level right now. Honestly, I think they don’t have much in common beyond racing, if you look at their friends and their passions outside of motorsport. But then again, racing is and has always been a huge part of who they are, it is pretty much the core of who they are right now, and as drivers, Max&Charles are very similar. So outside of racing I don’t think they interact much, but within racing I see their relationship as two people who vibrate on the same wavelength. And that produces, yk, the Maxsplaining and Leclerifying.

As for whether there will be hatred between them if they have a tense title fight, I tend towards not at all, or not to a level that destroys their relationship as friendly colleagues. First, the stakes going into 2024 are simply not equal. If this were Charles and Max fighting for their first title, and only one of them could get it, I would place my bets on a Lestappen downfall. I do agree with you that both of them are crazily competitive, but Max has already won… trice. I’m not saying that this means he doesn’t want to win anymore, but he quite literally doesn’t have much to prove left. He’s just had the most dominant season in the history of the sport, the next step up would be like a complete win whitewash and I’d actually quit watching f1 forever if that happens. I don’t feel that Max is the sort of driver who’s aiming to break records for WDCs held, and I’m basing this off his comments about retirement and being bored at the front this season. From what I’ve seen, Max is a racing nerd. To him, the thrills are just as important as the accolades and that’s significant because he’s already collected a bucketload of accolades. And so I don’t think a 3 time WDC Max would resent Charles for giving him a close title fight. I also feel that from his comments in interviews about acknowledging that “everyone can be stopped”, his ego isn’t as large as some people make it out to be. But I also can’t really think of any recent instances of Max showing irritation towards Charles apart from on the radio in Vegas 23, and the overall race proved that Max does enjoy Charles taking the challenge to him. It’s probably because I don’t follow Max too closely, so feel free to update me haha.

As for whether Max would U-turn on his love-peace-Charles agenda if Charles presented a real title fight to him, ignoring my somewhat shallow Max knowledge, I’d point to Bahrain 2022 as an example that Max isn’t that insecure. It was the first race of the season, the Red Bulls DNFed, Charles won, but they were still all smiles and Max even took the initiative to come up to Charles to chat (on live tv). This ties back to the point above, that the stakes for Max aren’t as high anymore so we see less Mad Max. I’d also add that Max has been very consistent in showing that he sincerely admires Charles’ skill as a driver, I’d go as far as to say that Max respects Charles the most in the current grid. I’m pretty sure you can pick any year from 2018-2023 and Max has done at least one interview in which he praises Charles’ talent. And this brings me to what Max said in 2018 predicting that he and Charles will be “like Hamilton and Vettel, fighting for titles in the future”, which aptly illustrates how Max&Charles are, in my opinion, the most prepared to have a tense title fight without developing personal grudges. People like calling them the reverse Brocedes, I can certainly see it. Circling back to the very first point about them not being friends, they have always been rivals first. They’ve had over a decade of experience going into races and championships and seeing the other as “Max/Charles, who I have to beat”. They’re competitors with a healthy amount of hard-earned respect for each other, and I do believe them when they say that they’ve matured beyond petty rivalries. That is basically the tl;dr of this very long thing.

I don’t see why Charles, who is going into 2024 with the awareness that he’ll have to beat Max to win the WDC, would become resentful of Max in the process. Likewise, I don’t think Max, who has already proven himself, would be mad that his childhood rival who he rates very highly, beat him to a title. I think it’s important that they aren’t friends, as you said, because then there are no expectations or trust to betray and their professional relationship can be maintained.

The only scenarios I see happening where they fall out because of the title fight are if 1) either one of them decides to drive dirty and the FIA turns a blind eye (haha.) 2) they magically regress into their 15 year old selves and Charles shoves Max into the marina in Abu Dhabi in Val D’Argenton 2.0

#lestappen #…i wrote a lot. if you read everything thanks!! #all in all we literally don’t know what will happen we’re all just speculating for fun #we don’t know them and are just analysing what they’ve given us 🤷🏻‍♀️ #we will only know for certain when ferrari gets their shit together and becomes a competent team #either way my enjoyment of lestappen is secondary to my charles leclerc wdc agenda #asks

[thegoblinboy]

Oh my god, I’m like so stressed but of course I decide to start writing something else while In the midst of writing something else. 🙄 so have a bit of venom steve with spiderman eddie. Promise that Never Say Die will be updated tomorrow after I get out of school (:

Eddies fingers stuck to the ceiling, somehow holding his entire weight. Now, years later he was still confused as to how the hell a ceiling didn’t just collapse when he was crawling across it. There is no explanation for the things he can do. All he knows his that he can do them, and no matter what he’s going to bring Justice for his Uncle. The Harrington’s were the last stone that was left unpicked. The last clue to the mystery. If he didn’t find answers here then Wayne Munson’s death was going to be for nothing. And worst of all his Uncle wouldn’t receive Justice. So that’s how he finds himself crawling around Robert Harrington’s office. Waiting patiently for the older man to leave.

The man’s glasses were falling off his nose, but he was so concentrated on reading his papers that he doesn’t even notice. Whatever that was in those documents must be really important. Eddie moves closer to the window like doors that lead to the balcony. Of course the rich bastard had those. Slowly, and as silent as possible he drops down from the ceiling. Crouching on the carpet, hoping that he didn’t make a wrong move and alert the man. Which was why he hadn’t entered through the doors now behind him. Carefully, he crawls to one of the curtains. Using it as a cover, moving and standing behind it. Becoming one with the cloth. He felt stupid but he didn’t care.

His legs start to ache from standing for so long. Twenty minutes pass before anything exciting happens. Robert Harrington’s doors fling open the rest of the way. A loud crack from the wall, where the door knob created a reasonable hole in. There, stood the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. Wearing a outdated polo and blue jeans. If he wasn’t currently on a mission, he would have fallen on his face from stupidity. He would be lying if he said there wasn’t a slight drool puddle forming in his mask. He knew he was gay, but this guy buried any doubt in his mind (which there was very little to begin with) into the ground.

His eyes have a fiery look to them. Like he was on a rampage of some sort. How a angel like him could possibly hurt a fly was beyond him.

“Stop drooling over Steve Fucking Harrington, Eddie. And focus on what they’re talking about. The suits not catching their voices dipshit.” Henderson’s voice startles Eddie back to his main purpose. If he could move, he would shut off his ear piece the other hand made him. Internally he’s already making note to swat the little shit upside the head when he got home.

Discreetly moving his hand, he subtly rolls one of the gadgets Dustin made him. Watching it roll under Robert Harrington’s desk. The mic catching their voices now. Though Eddie could hear them with the naked ear, Dustin could not.

“Father-” Steve Harrington’s voice is louder then what Eddie imagined it to be. Though he doesn’t understand why he was imagining it in the first place.

“Don’t talk to me like that young man. Remember who you’re talking to.” Mr. Harrington’s voice is in a low growl. Holding his authority the best he can. Though, like with his business the authority he once had over his son was slipping through his finger tips.

“Yeah- I’m talking to Robert Harrington. The biggest fraud of New York City.” Steve has a feral grin on his face. Eddie could barely see him through the curtain, his heart was racing as he’s sure he could see him if he glanced over at any second. “Now- Mom wanted me to tell you, that Dinners done. And that if you don’t go down to eat, she’s going to to cut your balls off.” Steve grins.

“Eddie there’s something off about him.” Dustin’s carefully mumbling into his ear now. “Look at his hands.” He points out.

Eddie listens almost immediately. Eyes flashing towards the others hands that now gripped the corners of his fathers desk. His veins didn’t look right. They looked black? And like they were crawling under his skin. Eddie wasn’t sure what was making his hands to look like that but there was something terribly wrong. He’s heard tales about the Harrington boy. About how he was the nicest one out of them. Now Eddie didn’t personally know him, but his gut was telling him that there was something off about this guy. Most likely he didn’t act like this way normally.

Robert Harrington stands up, jaw set tightly as he moves slamming the book that he was looking through. Moving and closing it in a drawer and locking it shut. Before he’s moving, walking out of the room without a word. Steve’s eyes immediately flicker to the curtain. A amused look on his face as he relaxes his shoulders a bit. “You know there are better hiding places in here.” He says calmly. Hands fidgeting a bit as his veins seem to start to crawl faster. Wrapping themselves around his hands.

Eddie doesn’t see the point in hiding anymore. He moves, walking carefully with his hands up in defense. Steve’s eyes never leave him. “What are you doing in my fathers study?”

“Looking for answers.” Eddie says simply. Sounding vague.

“Hm- mind sharing with the class?” Steve sasses. Crossing his arms over his chest. Hiding his hands, trying to control whatever that was currently happening to his body. Though Eddie could now see that the others veins on his neck were beginning to do the same thing. Moving up to his face, which was scrunching up in a pained expression.

“Eddie.” Dustin’s warns. Sounding a bit to anxious for Eddie’s liking.

“Um- Justice? Hey dude are you alright?” Eddie asks moving forward carefully. Not expecting the other to turn violent. Just as fast as the other entered the office, whatever black substance takes over his body. Reaching out and grabbing ahold of Eddie, before throwing him out the glass door.

Before he is forcefully removed from the others property though, he swears he catches a glimpse of panic and remorse written all over Steve Harrington’s face. Up until whatever that shit was, warps it’s self around his face. Creating a new one. One that he recognized from a few of his past crusades.

Venom

#spiderman eddie munson #venom steve harrington #eddie seemed a bit more spiderman coded #this venom is inspired by the venom from insomniacs venom #I’m so pumped for spiderman 2 #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #like the enemies to lovers would totally slap #Steve learning to work with venom who is sassy as fuck #mood changes with Steve harrington #he’s becoming more assertive then passive #idk if I’ll write more for this

[steamberrystudio]

16/07/2023 Devlog

Hallo! Time for a quick devlog here on tumblr.

Summary:

Music and SFX coded in

Flowcharts have been set up, coded, and a basic test run

The Ramble:

So in the past two weeks, as I said, I basically coded all the music and SFX for Yuu's route. Had to go grab a few new and very specific SFX for this route and was amused that I got to re-use that one slurp from Quill's route. LoL You know the one.

And I did the flowcharts.

The flowcharts are a bit of a process - I have to set up templates, then create the images, then code them (which is a process of coding the flowchart screen, declaring the variables, then going to put the variables all in the right places. 

Coding the flowchart screen involves getting the exact coordinates of every "module" in the flowchart, which is always a bit time consuming.

Anyway. It's all done now.

There are just under 1900 individual modules noted on the flowcharts across all routes. 👀

So yeah. Most of my time was spent setting those up! And now it's done.

Upcoming Weeks:

I know that for at least the next week I'll be working on coding sprite expressions. I'm actually not sure how long sprite expressions will take. There are between 6000 - 6500 expression changes per route and though I've already coded *some* of the expressions it's not really enough to be significant.

I may also do some sprite art (I have a couple of side character sprites to complete for this route)  this week as well. Coding sprite expressions is really tedious and I can't do it for 8 hours straight so usually while I'm doing expressions, I work on other things too to give myself a break.

What else I will work on may vary but expressions will be the next big undertaking.

And that is where we are with Yuu's route.

When Stars Collide:

I did say I would talk more about this game in a future update. We are in the future now so I guess I will discuss it.

So first off, I did decide I wanted to get the BGs re-done for this game. For...a variety of reasons. There's been a small hiccup in that process but I should still be getting replacements, slowly but surely.

I finished all of Daaz's route scenes and have started on Noel's scenes. I think I may revisit trying to write and complete each chapter for all characters going forward. There are some drawbacks to trying to complete entire character routes all the way to the game ending (which I did kind of expect so...)

Anyway, the game is just shy of 300,000 words at the moment.

And I'm not saying there's a new character named Kav who is one of the lab gremlins and who may or may not be the sort of character that makes you want to strangle him.

But honestly. All of that might be true.

It might be true that this character has been haunting me for a while and that even though I REALLY wanted to keep this game to 5 routes, I may need to expand it by one (1).

And that's it for both games. I will see you in a couple of weeks.

~Esh

#gilded shadows #whenstarscollide #updates #amare game #indie otome game

[aprismaticodyssey]

Hello; please read this, if you don't mind.

This isn't any sort of update. This isn't an announcement. I know I haven't been posting and I haven't been active, so I'm sure to a lot of you, I'm all but gone. For all my talk of "I'm writing this!" and "That's being edited!" I haven't shown you guys anything. I will get to that later. This post is to tell you about my dog and his situation.

That's right! I have a dog! A yorkie. I should have spammed you all with pictures of him. We had gotten him (my mother's idea) to help me through depression. He absolutely loves people, adores meeting new dogs (even if the bigger breeds scare him), and especially kids. He's a people person. He'd sooner lick you to death than ever cause anyone genuine harm. My dog's name is Monty. Monty the Monster. And he's certainly grown into his name when he would play!

Unfortunately, at eleven years old, I guess his time is... running out. You see, last month, we took him to be groomed at a pet store we frequent. When we came home, a couple days later, he would eat less. He wasn't quite as playful, but he was still more or less himself. After stressing about his lack of interest in food, we went to the vet. There, we were told he has a heart murmur, a 3 out of 6 on the scale, I believe. We were recommended to take Monty to a cardiologist and our vet personally recommended one that she had gone to.

The problem is... everything was booked up. Some places we simply couldn't trust with something so delicate. Others were full until next February or March. Last night, my mother had me call one more place and after the call, we were told to come in on emergency. Not ideal but everything was full and we had to get him looked at. His breathing is hard and fast, uncomfortable. Wheezing. A few coughs. Distress in his eyes.

So we left. The place was nice. The people were nice. The problem was what they found: metastatic cancer in the lungs. I appreciated that we were told matter-of-factly. Very straightforward. But I still cried nonetheless. And when we were left alone, I broke down. Our options were this: we give him a few days of medication and see if it helps him. If it improves his quality of living adequately, we could get more medicine. Or... after those few days... we come back and have him euthanized. My mother has looked into other avenues already. Further treatments. Tests.

But I've already made up my mind. It isn't fair for me to put him through all of that just to delay the inevitable. I feel like a horrible owner for thinking that. For saying it. Like I should be moving mountains to give him another week. A month. A year. But I can't. I just can't. I couldn't handle seeing my dog knowing that all I've done is bought him time, time his health has decided he doesn't necessarily have. I struggled going to sleep last night even after crying. I told him over and over that I loved him. That he's my best friend and how much he helped me. These eleven years are too short. Too soon.

So... the reason I'm posting this, the reason I'm saying all of this, is just because I would like you, any of you, to say a prayer or two for Monty. To wish him smooth passage into the afterlife and that he's able to eat all the things he never could. Like chocolate! God, he'd love it if he could have it now.

If there's anything I want left behind, it's this post. I love you, Monty. More than I'll ever love myself or anyone on this earth. You helped me more than medicine or therapy ever could. I love you. I love you. I love you. I hope you get to travel the stars. I hope you make friends. I hope you find grandpa somewhere out there and join him on his adventures.

And to those of you who read this... Thank you. I'm sorry for my silence. I'm sorry for not posting more. I'm sorry for not being here. I'll be here more and more soon. Eventually. Just... not yet.

#Nike Monroe Posts #My late dog Monty #personal

[youwontlikethisblog]

Armando Mendoza: A Brief Analysis

Hey, how are you? It's been a while. This will be a lil update so if you want you can skip down to the [GREEN] to start with the post :)

It's been a hectic few months. I finally decided to stop setting it aside and get real about my writing and begun the tedious task of editing the final draft of my original manuscript. I'm a perfectionist(Although if we're considering my posts about YSBLF as an example of that, than you wouldn't expect it lol. I suppose that's what I get for writing post when I haven't had a lick of sleep and don't stop to take breaks while writing the posts and then, half brain dead, I sit down to "edit" the grammar). When it comes to something that truly means a lot to me I do not feel satisfied until it has reached my exact expectations. I've made a few updates on my writing and how it's been going. There's some exciting development on it but I want to wait a little more to be able to fully talk about it and share the news with y'all.

That being said; I still have not continued watching YSBLF since the last time I did a post about the show, y'know, life and all but without further ado, here is the post :)

Armando Mendoza: An Objective and A Not So Deep Dive

Now that I've had some time and space away from the show, I can look at the characters in a more objective manner. I've been considering a lot of things regarding them and I feel like this post might come right out of left field —seeing how I normally seem to "defend" Armando, or some might assume I do— and this post will most likely not do that. In reality, it won't. It'll rightfully so call him out.

See, the stark difference between Marcela and Armando, not personality wise, but writing wise, is that Marcela doesn't really have a backstory. Her past is pretty blurry and the very few clear images we get of it always paint her to be the exact same person. However with Armando his past, while also not clear, is more visible and a little bit more precise than hers. In the post I made for Marcela I wasn't as empathetic as I should have been.

Marcela's past is basically unknown and the very little information we do get doesn't paint her in the best of lights. However, that doesn't mean that she deserved or that what Armando was doing to her was okay. I should have said that in her post. I placed a lot of emphasis on the fact that while Marcela had a right to feel what she did, she didn't have a right to act the way she was. Feelings are valid, actions are not.

Well same goes for Armando.

Armando could have been dating a helicopter as a girlfriend, someone who was possessive and controlling of him, but that doesn't justify nor excuse his horrible behavior towards her. While yes, one could assume that his cheating had to do with his lack of control with life, it still doesn't justify or excuse it. Nothing, ever, justifies cheating.

As I said in the Marcela post: This isn't about her so I won't be explaining her reasoning, her behavior, her actions, or anything of those sorts, therefore, don't take it as me excusing her bad behavior. It's simply being mentioned.

With modern times come modern solutions. Nowadays it's very easy to be able to pick up your phone and google something, read a self-help book, find the root of your childhood trauma and even a therapist. Child development isn't easy to understand to the naked eye and you have to have years of experience on the subject to fully understand how point A gets to point B. I'm no expert of it, just done some basic research on certain topics of childhood trauma and such so while I might have some form of understanding, it's not an exactitude on the subject.

We can estimate that Armando had emotionally absent parents, witnesses how his parents turned their backs on his sister for falling in love with a poor man and the way the elite society they're a part of was about the whole subject. How do we draw to this conclusion?

His father doesn't even know what he went to college for or what he got his degree on. His mother coddles him, only when he acts to her standards, enables a horrible relationship that does not benefit neither her biological son or her basically-adopted daughter. Quite the contrary the show does a good job at showing the drastic parallels of Betty's relationship with her parents compared to Armando and his parents. Consider the fact that any time Armando is on screen with his parents they only talk about two things: His relationship with Marcela and the company.

They don't sound like the warmest of parents do they?

I talk a lot about being a writer and how knowing your characters IS one of the most crucial and important parts of developing your story. I mention this because when you write characters, fleshed out ones, you have at the very least an understanding of their past. Not an exact one, but an understanding in order to have them say the things they do and act the way they do.

Roberto was always cold towards Armando, from the very start. He clearly showed signs that he didn't very much care for him. He cared more about the company, his wife, Daniel, Marcela, Beatriz, and then, at the very end, Armando. With obvious reasons we understand why Roberto didn't trust Armando. It's always been told that he's always been a player, doesn't commit, and is immature, plus with the devil on his shoulder he calls a best friend, Armando isn't the most trustworthy.

Yet, that does not excuse Roberto's lousy father role in his son's life. Children need strong(by that I mean emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually present) male role models in their lives, especially father figures. I've said it before that it could be a possibility that Armando's childhood was very much with an emotionally distant father. This creates the perfect breeding ground for a child to constantly feel like they must excel in every part of their lives(perfectionism), have an anxious attitude, a fear of losing the love of their loved ones if they aren't excelling(low self-esteem), and other difficulties. Basically this ball of fear, resentment, anger, perfectionism, and anxiousness(being avoidant) . These issues on their own bring their separate problems that mixed together make for an unlikeable person. I don't know about you, but this sounds a lot like Armando.

Of course there's people who grew up with emotionally unavailable parents and grew up to be fully companionate, kind, loving, and wonderful people. That's the tricky thing about trauma, not one size fits all. Just because two people grew up the same doesn't mean they'll deal with it the same way.

Emotionally absent parents equal physically absent parents when it comes to their children's development.

His mother was the same, though, unlike Roberto, Margarita did love Armando and was present but very conditional with her love. You can have examples of this when Armando and Marcela would be fighting. She always took Marcela's side and pressured Armando to continue the relationship. She also guilted Marcela into staying with Armando. She was never there to comfort her son when he was at his lowest or even before. She was just only ever present in his life and made an effort to talk to him when it came to his engagement to Marcela. Plus, the whole causing Camila to divorce her husband and move to a different country fiasco.

Armando did a fine job of taking after his parents, as he is a perfect reflection of them.

There's one thing that Armando said that has ran laps around my brain for a while now; "I know I did things wrong, damnit I always do!" outside of el Meson.

He's aware of the things he does, even if it's at the heat of the moment, Armando is a self-aware jester, who never cared enough to change until he lost everything.

This change, while outside forces moved him to change, were not the reason why he changed. That's another message that is lost with this show.

Armando didn't change because he fell in love with Betty. Armando only learned to be brave enough to be the person he always aspired to be, because he fell in love. Doesn't matter who he fell in love with, he simply did. The love he received from Betty only taught him to be brave enough to love the same.

The same way Betty was naïve to how depraved any man can be, whether educated or not, rich, poor, or from a "high" society or lower class, Armando too was naïve to what was actually good and bad because he never really had parents that cared enough to teach him. Now this in no way frees Armando from accountability. Lets not forget that the whole point of his personality at the beginning of the story is that he sucks, and is a horrible man.

[TAKE A BREAK IF YOU NEED ONE.]

Sex addiction is a serious addiction. As I've mentioned before, in one of my earliest posts, that Armando shows to have signs of it but I'm no expert so I wouldn't say he does. For example, his affairs often cause issues in his relationship, his professional life, and for himself. While he's aware of all the risk that these affairs cause in his life, he still part takes in them! These are all signs that he has an addiction. However, I don't think that was the intent behind this part of his personality when he was being written, simply there to show how he was a Casanova of sorts.

These are all things I've already talked about in different posts but I wanted to dive a little bit deeper here in case some people haven't read those.

Let's get to the real juicy stuff now.

Armando's horrible, terrible, abusive, treatment of women.

Yeah Armando defended Aura, he wasn't a misogynist, and he didn't abuse his position of power nor assaulted any women(not talking about the constant harassment of Betty after she found the letter yet). Still, Armando was abusive.

He constantly manipulated women into believing he was serious about them just to use them, he gaslit —not only Marcela but all his side chicks— people in order to control a situation, and at times even got physical. Let's not forget the hair pulling, choking, and dragging of Karla, Marce, and Larson. Let's not forget Betty! While he never hit them, the way he acted, was not okay!

Armando was aggressive, he was controlling, and he was manipulative. God, he was awful!

There's no excuse or even a justification for him in this part.

While you can argue that his intentions weren't to harm those girls, he still did it. The moment they didn't behave to his standards, he removed his "love"(infatuation) from them. Does that sound similar to a pattern? like someone else? (Margarita).

However Marcela for this instance was a victim of his. His constant cheating made her so controlling, resentful, and bitter.

A cycle starts somewhere. Whether it be Marce being possessive from the get go of their relationship or Armando cheating first, somewhere the cycle began.

One thing I want to make clear is that both Marcela and Armando were abusive and victims of each other.

From the start of the novela Armando isn't a good person. He's horrible. However, he was meant to be charismatic, which would cause people to over-look those red flags.

There's a lot of sides to Armando's character and that's what makes him complex.

There's obvious reason as to why Armando, in a sense, has some redeeming qualities compared to the people he's surrounded by. You know, he feels remorse for the way he acts, especially towards Marce and Betty. He feels the pressure of not letting his parents down and the responsibility of keeping people employed. However, even if it's remorse, the problem always lays in the fact that he doesn't truly change.

In this half of the post I'm focusing more on his relationship with Marcela.

I've talked about reactionary abuse, toxic relationships, abusive tactics, and patterns in all of my posts regarding Armando and Marcela. I've explained in a simplified way and yet I feel like some people either reject the idea or only want to blame one party.

What makes Marcela and Armando's relationship toxic and not D.A. is that they both enable each other and their bad habits. See, even if Armando were the one that started the conflicts, Marcela also acts out abusively. Basically they up one another in any fight. As if saying "Oh so you're going to threaten to leave? Fine! Then I'll ruin your life! If you leave me it would be like losing my parents all over again." while the other responds with "Marrying you is simply a favor to you! If you speak up about this than the wedding is off!" get the idea?

Marcela enables Armando by acting out in her rage, further pushing him to act out in his cheating and gaslighting. Armando enables Marcela by his cheating and gaslighting. They both feed the cycle and reject any accountability for their actions.

What makes this drastically different in what a typical D.A situation in where the abused reacts abusive(aka mirrors their abuser) is that they BOTH switch sides. One moment Armando is the abuser, the one with the upper hand in the relationship and then, the next, Marcela is the one that is being abusive and in control. Often times they bounce off each other. It's not Armando constantly and only being the Abuser with Marcela mirroring him. They BOTH DO THIS.

However, at the very least, Armando at the end of the series took accountability and broke the cycle.

When you write two explosive and complex characters meant to be together you have to separate them from each other. By this I mean that Marcela is her own person away from Armando, just like Armando is his own person away from Marcela. Together, however, they are a volcanic eruption. While, for Marcela, this can translate to just being passionate and intense, for Armando it can be an absolute tragedy that must continue in order to keep every party of people in his life "happy" while in the end, at the very least, he has his affairs to give him something.

Together Armando and Marcela are a horrible duo because all they do is cause harm to one another. That's what makes their relationship toxic, not one sided abuse.

One can argue that the ONLY reason Marcela acted this way was because of Armando, meaning, if you remove the cause of the problem, the issue would be resolved, right?

Not entirely as we're often shown and told that Marcela is this way with everyone. She keeps up with public appearances for the sake of their elite society but she treats people outside of her economic class poorly, en fin she treats anyone that isn't to her standards poorly and inhumanly. What does this tell us? That she on her own is toxic and abusive so even if she were in a healthy relationship, her prejudice and expectations of things causes her to be this way.

Armando was a cause of the problems in the relationship! That's where the tricky part and what makes them complex, is.

We know that Armando and Marcela were basically forced to be together, or groomed. From a young age all they've heard is how they must be together to unite the families, how her dead parents wanted that more than anything. That's placing a lot of pressure on two people.

However, even if this were the case(which it is) Armando's go about and treatment of Marcela was not okay. For the sake of this post let's say that Armando is the reason Marcela is the way she is(meaning we ignore her personality all together). He caused her to be possessive, controlling, toxic, and cold. Marcela was once a kind and sweet person who did nothing but show devotion and adoration for him, and Armando's constant cheating and lying pushed her to be this way.

Armando could have handled it a lot better. If he felt obligated to be with Marcela from the get go, he could have at the very least, like the very minimum treated her as a human being, and not cheated. That's the very least she deserved.

Obviously, we don't know how the start of their relationship was like. All we know is that when they got engaged that he made a promise to Marcela to be faithful and that Marcela knew about the affairs. We know that Armando and Marcela at least had somewhat of a "happy" relationship, despite the affairs and fights they'd get into. (Which this on it's own establishes that Marcela was fully aware of Armando's unfaithfulness before their engagement, that and his promises to be faithful show us that it's been a problem for years.)

Let's consider this; If Armando fell for Betty when she was ugly SIMPLY because of the adoration and devotion she had for him, why didn't he do that with Marcela at the start?

Had she held this devotion and adoration for Armando from the start it would imply that Armando would have fallen for her, same way he did with Betty, and therefore Marcela would have never turned out to be the way she did, right?

Let's be honest here. That's the sole reason why Armando even began to have some sort of confused emotions towards Betty. It made him feel good, boosted his pride and ego, and tide with the fact he trusted her, he liked Betty. So if Marcela would have been the same way at the start, don't you think Armando would have felt the same? Therefore he wouldn't had cheated on Marcela?

Again, that sounds like I'm solely blaming Marcela for the dissolvement of their relationship but I'm not.

Armando is part/responsible for Marcela's possessiveness in their relationship and there's no excuse for it.

What is cheating and why do people cheat?

Cheating can range from emotional intimacy with another person that isn't your partner to physical. The physical can range from simple hand holding to full blown intercourse.

(source: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-do-people-in-relationships-cheat/#:~:text=The%20participants%20admitted%20to%20cheating,desire%2C%20and%20situation%20or%20circumstance.)

In the article linked as a source it mentions that most partners cheat due to a lack of validation, love, or due to neglect in their relationship. What does this tell us?

While cheating is not a valid response to whatever is a lack in a relationship, there's always a valid reason the person feels the way they do. Let me say that again. Cheating is not valid, but the emotions of the person who is cheating, are. Cheating is not valid, but emotions are. What does this mean? (Unless we're talking about a narcissistic abuser. In that case, no. They are not valid) This is overall just a an idea of why cheating occurs in otherwise "healthy" relationships.

If you feel like your relationship lacks validation, love, neglectful, abusive, or there's no spark or desire: LEAVE or go to couple's therapy and work on it with your partner(EXCEPT FOR THE ABUSIVE ONE. LEAVE! LEAVE! LEAVE! LEAVE! There is help for you.).

Emotions are valid, actions are not. A person's feelings are valid but that does not excuse nor justify cheating.

While Armando's cheating was a huge reason why they had fights and arguments, there had to be a reason why he cheated in the first place and while his emotions were valid, his actions were not.

His cheating could have very well begun at the start of the relationship feeling as if he had no real control over his life because of his parents persistent push for him to be with Marcela, which means it had nothing to with Marcela, everything to do with his parents, and ultimately this caused Marcela to be so possessive. Or it could have simply been Marcela who was like that from the start because she too had to deal with the ever guilting of Margarita's "this is what your parents always wanted, for you two to be together and unite the families." In all honesty the real villain of this show is Margarita.

Yes, their relationship was a paradox of sorts. If they broke up, Armando would lose the presidency, the company would dissolve, his parents would hate him, and he'd be a failure. Marcela wouldn't have really lost anything except Armando.

We can go with the 'could have' and 'should have' or 'what if's', but at the end of the day all we've got is what is actually canon in the show and not just speculation.

A few weeks ago I saw this video on my IG feed of FG talking about the ending of YSBLF. He said he didn't give them their happily ever after, since Armando was Betty's executioner(verdugo).

If the writer himself is saying that Armando wasn't all that amazing, I suppose that means he wasn't.

Yes, Armando went through a redemption arc but even then, Armando wasn't the best person. He was simply a better version of himself. He learned to be honest, to view people as his equals, women as humans and not properties, and to be selfless and caring, that's a huge difference from the Armando from the beginning but Armando was still neurotic. He was still a control freak, and was prone to his anger outburst.

However, this is realistic! Armando didn't change to be the perfect man that was deserving of Betty. He came to be real. He had his traumas and he was healing from them. The love of Betty didn't fix him, contrary, when she stopped showing a pure love towards him, osea, removed her love from him, Armando had no other choice but to LEARN to love properly. In order to do that, he needed to revaluate himself, his goals, his life, and what had pushed him to such a low point in his life and the ironic thing is that Armando's low point wasn't him drunk and suicidal at the bar that night. Armando's low point was the moment he agreed to manipulate Betty in order to retain her devotion and the company.

The downfall of Armando began the moment the novela started. It was a slow trickling drip from the throne he believed he deserved for simply existing and just as that, so was Marcela's.

Unlike with Betty, who was basically seduced to be bad, Armando and Marcela's downfall began from the very beginning.

So many people dismiss the abysmal abuse that was plain in the novela when it's the women acting out this way but are quick to crucify any male who acts the same way.

Now, I'm not saying Armando was only a victim of circumstance because that's not true. If I believed anyone was a victim to circumstance I'd say it was Marcela or Betty.

Why?

Because Armando, with chest puffed in pride, cleared headed, and sober CHOSE to manipulate these women. That's the abhorrent part of his character. That above all he always wanted to save his own skin and while his feelings were complex as to why, at the very end of it, he didn't want to deal with the repercussions.

While Armando wanted to be good, to prove he could be good, to himself, Marcela, and his parents, there lacked a true conviction in him. He felt like he needed to be good in order to have his parents love and approval and one of those things was that he also marry Marcela but he didn't feel inspired to be good.

There's a difference between knowing what's good, wanting to do good, and feeling inspired to be good. See, with inspiration comes motivation and with motivation comes action.

Writing complex characters means that good motives are acted out wrong. It means that bad motives are disguised as good acts. Not fully good, not entirely evil.

When you get to know your characters the rest of the story comes to you naturally and by that I mean that the actions they take, the words they speak, how they are, kind of rolls out of you naturally. You need to know your characters before you sit down to write your story.

Armando's actions are horrible. He was abusive but he was also a victim and I know someone is probably wondering "well why aren't you talking about the way he was towards Betty when she found the letter?" and that's simple.

Armando perfectly mirrored Marcela and Betty perfectly mirrored Armando.

I mentioned this in the Marcela Valencia post but I'll try and talk a bit more about it here.

Armando's constant abuse and violation of Betty is an exact mirroring of Marcela, however, he still chose to act this way knowing that instead of drawing Betty closer to him, that he'd push her further away and while in moments of lucidness Armando attempted to resolve the issues he had with Betty in a calm manner, she wasn't on the same page.

Armando chased Betty all over the place, threw jealousy fits, and forced himself onto her. Marcela did the exact same to him.

However, here's the tricky part of it.

Betty.

Betty was the perfect mirror of Armando. She lied to him, manipulated him, and "cheated" on him. The same way he was towards Marcela.

Obviously this is a simplified version of it but it's the same thing at the end of the day.

Had Betty never acted this way, would Armando have treated her the way he had?

To a lesser degree, I do think so.

I think he would have manipulated her and that he would have thrown some jealousy fit here and there.

See the thing is that if Betty had never given him a taste of his own medicine Armando would have never changed. No matter how much he wanted to or how badly he was in love with Betty.

Armando, to his core, was a coward. That's what he was in the story. Due to this he resorted to manipulation and cheating.

While some of his actions were due to some sort of trauma or the fear of rejection, and came from a place of hurt and self-preservation, Armando still acted wrong.

At least at the end Armando took accountability for his actions and somewhat changed his ways. Was he deserving of getting the girl? Not entirely but was Betty deserving of getting Armando? Not entirely and see that's the problem with writing romance.

Often times the most important bit of the story is cut out because "people don't want to see the reconciliation, they just want to hear about it. "

From what I know, Betty never took accountability for the way she treated Armando after she found the letter and this I will later discuss whenever I get around to watching YSBLF and write a post about the episode but in simpler words: Betty chose to exact revenge on Armando and yes, her emotions were so valid! but her actions were not!

Betty treated Armando the exact same way Armando treated Marcela.

Lastly, I've said Armando is a complex character from the start and while that may be true, this complexity does not excuse his horrible behavior because complexities never do.

Well, I hope y'all enjoy this long over due post, and I apologize for the long hiatus on the YSBLF breakdown posts.

Also, again, sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, I'm working on it! Lol.

'Til next time :)

#don armando #armando mendoza #betty la fea #yo soy betty la fea #ysblf #marcela valencia #marcela ysblf #beatriz pinzón solano #betty #beatriz pinzon solano #character analysis de ysblf #analysis of ysblf

[trubbish-treasures]

[Video ID: "Legends and Myths of Hoenn 1: The Creation Of Hoenn"]

[The scene opens on the Garbodor Heap, as it usually does, but this time there's a clear water and mud line, about waist height. "Hey, there, everyone. It's been a little bit, huh? Well. If you've heard about what's been happening in the region, I bet you can understand why I haven't had much of a chance to talk-- I don't have a lot of backlog just yet, and with the blackouts and the flooding, I just finally got back to the ol' Heap and I'm still sorting through all the damage."]

["As you can see, the electrical system's ruined. I'm glad I shut down all the printers before I left. So... Instead of continuing the 486 rebuild-- which I am definitely not gonna be able to do for at least a week or two-- I thought I'd leave you with one of the other kinds of tapes Gramma Garbodor kept moving."

[The room's light fades out.]

["See, she loved all the tales of my home. Our home. Hoenn." Suddenly, a holographic display shows the region of Hoenn, just as it is, islands and all, heat-blasted forests, cities still feeling the floods, the works.]

["And so I thought I'd begin at the very beginning."]

["Once, in a time where the world had withered, and gods walked the earth..." The hologram turns largely brown. The entire region of Hoenn is represented as barren and desolate as the Desolate Land had been. "The gods began to argue as to how to restore the world. And while many of these arguments were peaceful-- they had agreed on the broader points, and kept them in mind-- Some were not. Like in our Hoenn."]

["Here, the gods did war and will not just for the shape of the future, but their own power." Suddenly, the scene shifts, to a mighty and furious war, between desolate land, and raging storm. And in their center, some very familiar shapes do war and will.]

["Supping of the power revealed at the heart of Hoenn, even a taste, drove them to hunger for it. In the ever-shifting land and sea, did the people cry out for aid to the other spirits. But the water could not so much as touch the land, and the land could not so much as warm the waters."]

["And so, land and sea being opposed, did humans call out to the sky... And, amazingly, for spirits and Pokemon in those days were not wont to be kind to humans, a spirit answered. For in their warring, the Land and Sea did not remember what their true purpose was: restoring the damage that had been done to our Hoenn."]

["Unable to let go of their grudges and sabotage against the other, the spirits of the wind did give answer: 'Then let your competition be the canvas on which this place is made. Show me the land and sea, as beautiful as you can make it, and I shall yet decide."]

["Thus, in a week of creation not seen before or since, were the beasts of the land, and the air, and the sea, made and caused to flourish in their land and sea. And the beauty of the place was beyond kindness, and the heart of the place beat with joy."]

["And this, they said, was our Hoenn."]

["I'll update on repairs to the Heap next week. Until then, keep circulating the tapes."]

[wisecollectorofbooks]

Decided to do "National Clean Your Home" Month this year, because I found it randomly on my "explore" page like 2 weeks ago and, well, I need motivation to organize my house. I've only lived here for 11 months already.

So, here's to me trying this out, and using my tumblr to keep track. Let's see how long this goes. Pinned for my easy finding this month.

Nov 1 - took down all random plastic containers in my upstairs rooms that needed to be cleaned for recycling, cleaned them, and put them with the plastics for recycling.

Nov 2 - put away two stacks of CDs that have been sitting on my stairs since... March? I think that was when I unpacked them. Also vacuumed living room floor.

Nov 3 - Took full recycling bags out to shed.

Nov 4 - Not even noon yet here in UK and I've already finally ordered the three shelf storage thing I needed for my kitchen, cleaned off half of my table downstairs, and filled another recycling bag of paper. Who knows what I can complete by tonight? update - just a bit more organizing downstairs.

Nov 5 - put stuff in crawl space that I've been meaning to for months. Will hopefully get the shelf thing today, and put that together so I finally have a place to put the slow cooker, rice cooker, toaster, and coffee grinder which doesn't involve just rotating things between counters and the table. Also have taken out two more bags out to shed for Tuesday recycling day. Update: I did get the shelf, and put it together, and now most of the "big" things sitting around my kitchen/table are stored away!

Nov 6 - Folded most of my dry clothes, and prepared for recycling day tomorrow. It was a long day.

Nov 7 - Folded rest of the clothes, put out recycling and compost bins. Folded couch blanket, which was graciously re-nested by one or both of the feline overlords. I have been duly chastised.

Nov 8 - cleaned off my desk, finally. Had the excuse motivation that I finally got my work-provided laptop for my WFH days on Friday and today was my first WFH day since then, so needed to get it set up, but first I needed space for it, so... clean desk. Also put away the clothes I folded the last two days.

Nov 9 - I did not forget to do it, I just forgot to log it here. But my task yesterday was to finally hang up a three part picture I bought in Thailand like... `14 years ago, that has been one of those things just floating around between my table, some chairs, the stairs, and the table again. So, they are now hung up! I also went out and raked up leaves and did another round of weeding in the garden.

Nov 10 - Honestly, today was a long working day (it is only 445pm as I type this, but my working hours are 8am-345pm, and today was just overly long) because it was my last day before 1.5 weeks of annual leave. So I think the taking the full recycle basket downstairs to be sorted into the bags will be all I do today. I may do something more later, but who knows. Reader - that is all I did today.

Nov 11 - Swapped over to my "winter" duvet cover (fuzzy! Warm! silver and white like snow! Matching pillow cases!) and washed my other linens so that I could make use of **checks weather forecast** the ONLY sunny day of my entire 1.5 week break. May also finally finish clearing off that table. I won't hold my breath on that one though.

Nov 12 - Cleaned the litter boxes.

Nov 13 - Cleaned one step off.

Nov 14 - Busy day because landlord has an inspector coming tomorrow for the annual energy inspection? I was notified yesterday evening about this. Have so far (it is just before 10 am) sorted through the piles of stuff on my office floor, set aside papers for recycling and for shredding, vacuumed the office floor and upper hallway, raked the leaves into my remaining litter bags, and taken recycling bags to shed. Still on the list to be done today: Organize my bedroom closet, finish clearing off the table... vacuum the bedroom, vacuum the stairs.

#naclyoho 2023 #pretending to adult #adulting is no fun #naclyoho #national clean your home month

[thomasshelbydrabbles]

Everything’s a Negotiation (6/?)

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x OC, Modern!Alfie Solomons x OC

Warnings: series typical violence, language, sexual situations, possessive behavior

Summary: Mac meets another of Tommy's...associates, and the meeting doesn't go how either of them expected it to.

Word Count: 2616

A/N: Okay, I know this has been forever and that many of you have been waiting so patiently for an update. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want added to the tag list.

When she’d woken up, Tommy hadn’t been outside her door. She pretended she wasn’t disappointed by his absence. Instead, she’d discovered a rather ostentatious display of flowers on her table. They’d made her smile, which had then made her frown since she had quite decided if she’d been swayed from angry to charmed by Tommy’s behavior. Maybe Sydney would be able to help sort out her emotions tonight when they met for drinks. Although, knowing Syd she might just say to shag him and be done with it.  

Mac dashed into her office, heels in her hands as Katie trailed after her, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“I know, I’m late. It was - ” Mac cut herself off. “It doesn’t matter. Won’t be a problem again.”

Sitting on the edge of her desk, she put her shoes on a took a deep breath. She thanked Katie as she placed the cup of coffee down.

It had been a nightmare getting out of the house. One of those mornings she hadn’t had since Zeus was a puppy. First, he wouldn’t eat. Then when it was time to go outside and get done, he just wanted to sniff everything…and chase everything. She’d been half asleep and more than a little distracted by a tall man with blue eyes, and Zeus managed to slip his lead, so she’d spent precious time chasing him down the street. Not chasing exactly, because if he even thought she was chasing him then it was over before it began since clearly her yelling and running after him meant ‘let’s play a game’ in dog-speak. Instead, Mac had carefully trailed after him, pretending to be absolutely un interested in everything Zeus did until she could get close enough to grab his harness. 

Taking a sip of her coffee, she tilted her head as she noticed a small package waiting for her on her desk. Before she could look for a note or call Katie back in, there was a knock at the door. Reminding herself that she had been a capable professional long before she’d met the Shelby’s and that Zeus was an incredibly well-behaved dog (most of the time), she moved quickly to the door. 

A bright smile on her face, she greeted her first client of the day. 

“Mister Solomons, pleasure.” Mac held her hand out to him. 

He grinned at her. With gentle movements that belied the size of his massive hand, he brought her hand up to his lips. His untamed beard and mustache tickled the back of her hand as he pressed a kiss to it. She felt a blush creep up her neck. When his lips quirked up into a smile, she fought the urge to duck her head as she felt the blush deepen. It was the eyes. She’d always had a weakness for men’s eyes.

“Thank you for seein’ me today in your lovely office, Miss Theil.” 

She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what it is I can do for you. As I’m sure my assistant told you, we don’t take on contracts for a company of your size. She should have provided you with our list of recommended companies.” 

Taking her seat, she watched as Alfie placed himself in her chair. His frame filled the space and he sprawled himself, as though to intentionally make himself seem larger. 

He nodded, stroked a hand down his beard. “Yes, yes, she did. She did give me a list, but I’ve always thought, right, always thought that it’s best to have business meetings face to face, yeah?” 

“I’m sure. I’m also sure you thought comin’ here in person, flashing me that cheeky smile of yours, using those bright hazel eyes on me would have me all weak in the knees. Figured you could…negotiate a better deal with me.” 

As his smile grew, her frown deepened. It didn’t happen often anymore, her firm had a well-known, and well-respected reputation. But, in the beginning, she’d get a lot of customers who’d come in and demand she clarify her business model, as though she were at uni presenting her portfolio to the tutor at the end of term. Others thought they’d push her around because she had tits and no dick. 

And yet. The more she looked at Mr. Solomons the more she felt something was off . The way he held himself. Casual, almost…waiting. But this waiting for what? She had an inkling he wasn’t expecting her to change her mind. No, this was something else entirely. 

A blinking icon on her screen drew her attention. Glancing down she smirked. Interesting.   

Standing from her desk, she trailed her finger along the polished top as she rounded it. Perching herself directly in front of Mr. Solomons, she crossed her ankles and leaned back against her desk. As she’d expected, his eyes tracked her movements - half interest in her body and half a desire to keep her always in his line of sight. 

“I must admit,” Mac began, voice smooth and even. “I had expected more from a man in your line of work. It’s honestly a bit disappointing, actually.”

She watched his brows furrow. Leaning forward she pouted at him. “Did you mean to insult me, Mr. Solomons?” 

Before he could speak, she turned the computer screen to face him. “Do you see that van there?” She pointed to a nondescript maintenance van parked across the street from her building. 

“There’s the most curious signal coming from that van. I do hope you didn’t invest a great deal of money in either the equipment or the personnel inside.”

“Now, pet - ”

Ignoring the endearment, she continued. “If I were to press this button, a number of simultaneous things would occur. Several which might bring you and your…associate into closer contact with law enforcement than a man in your line of work finds comfortable. This would be followed by lengthy discussions with my team of well-paid and rather intense, if I’m being honest, barristers who would demand a bit more money than you’d be willing to part with because I get greedy when I feel insulted.”

“He’s harmless, only little.” 

Mac smiled, all teeth and false charm. “Unfortunately for you both, I’m anything but harmless. I have this other button here - ” She caressed it. “We can avoid any police involvement, any lengthy litigation, but that van will never work quite properly again.”

“I understand now,” Alfie said almost to himself. “If you wont take me business, would you allow me to take you out for a drink, yeah? Consider it a sort of apology, yeah, for my bad, bad manners.” 

Mac’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly is it that you understand now that wasn’t clear when you showed up in my office earlier, Mister Solomons?”

“Alfie, pet, please.” 

“Answer the question.” 

Alfie scratched at his beard again, eyes slightly narrowed. “You’ll not like the answer I have for you, pet. No, you won’t like it at all. Don’t want you losing your temper at me, sensitive soul that I am, don’t want you to run the risk of hurting my feelings.”

Mac laughed, even though she didn’t want to. How was it that she attracted all the crazy, but endearing men in London to her office? Was she just easily charmed? Maybe Syd had been right about her type…

“Well now you have to tell me, and since you’ve already insulted me, I figure turn about is fair play.” 

“Right you are, pet. I said that I understood, right, understood why Thomas Shelby, yeah, see I knew you weren’t going to like this explanation, right because Thomas Shelby is the one who told me about your company. Encouraged me he did to come have a chat with you, right, but fuck Thomas Shelby because I do want you to work for me because you’re fucking brilliant, right, and I do enjoy the presence of fucking smart people.” 

Shark smile on her face, Mac pressed the button. She knew Alfie tracked her movement, watched his jaw work around words he didn’t say aloud. Walking towards the window, Mac motioned for Alfie to join her. 

Alfie held his hands up in front of him, palms out to placate her. “Now pet - ”

“No cops,” Mac interrupted. “As you said, I’m smart. But, I don’t work for business of your size. Still, I’m damn good at what I do, so here’s a little object lesson for you since you and Tommy seem to be a bit dense. When you report back to him, you can detail what you saw. First hand account. See those men - ” Mac pointed to the quartet of suited men leaving the building and crossing the street. “They work for me. They’re going to detain your man in the van, and confiscate all material assets they find - including the van itself. I’ll impound it in my lot. Strip any electronics I find, purge the data, and if I’m feeling very generous, which is unlikely because I’m a greedy girl, I might send the van to a local chop shop and send you the address - if you’re lucky you might be able to locate a fender.”

“Dinner.” 

Mac shivered. She hadn’t been aware that Alfie had moved in so closely behind her, but she could feel him now. His warm, hard body standing behind her, not touching her, but the threat of it was delicious. The warmth of his breath against her ear when he spoke sent fissures of pleasure down her spine. Damn Sydney for being right about her; she did have a type. 

“Cover you in fucking diamonds, pet, just let me buy you a drink, or dinner, a fucking show, yeah?”

She wanted to lean back against him at the unadulterated need she heard in his voice. Powerful men desperate for her was such a turn on, and she was only human. Tommy’d had a similar affect on her. The growl of his voice, the feeling of his hands on her face, her body. 

“You and Tommy are so similar,” she whispered, hating how breathy it came out. Behind her, she felt the answering rumble from Alfie. “I say no to both of you, refuse to work with you, and next thing I know you’re both offering to buy me drinks, dinner - expensive gifts. One might get the impression you thrive on rejection.” 

“Sapphires,” Alfie whispered, his beard teasing the shell of Mac’s ear. 

Her shoulders rolled back, pressing her ever so slightly closer to him. What the hell was wrong with her? This wasn’t some nameless, faceless bloke on the dance floor in a club in the West End. His hand wrapped gently, if possessively around her hip as he moved himself flush against her back. She should push him away, move away from the warmth of his arms. This was foolish. A needy little sigh escaped her lips. 

“Classy woman like you,” Alfie continued. “Fucking Fabergé Eggs, yeah, nothing but the best for you.”

Mac giggle. “What the fuck would I do with a Russian egg, Alfie?”

He nosed behind her ear. “Anything you want, pet.”

She tilted her head to the side, providing Alfie greater access to her neck. Feeling the scratch of his beard along her sensitive skin had her trembling slightly in his arms. He tightened his hold on her, wrapping both arms more securely around her waist. Warm, large fingers teased along the waist of her skirt, gently lifting her shirt from where she’d tucked it earlier. Slightly chapped lips pressed against her neck as her eyes fluttered closed. 

The touch of of his fingers across her navel startled her from the pleasure induced haze she’d fallen into. 

“Wait,” her voice came out breathier than she’d intended, but the man knew all the right buttons to push. “This is insane, Alfie.” 

Alfie pulled his lips from her neck, helped her stand on her own before gently turning her to face him. 

“What is it, pet?”

“We’re not doing…this,” she made a nonsensical gesture with her hand. “Here, in my office in the middle of the day like we’re the leads in some tawdry bodice ripper you read at the airport because you’re too tired to care what people think of your reading choices.”

Alfie nodded his head. “Classy fucking lady you are, yeah, and you’re correct. This is your place of business. So, let me fix this, right, fix it by taking you out proper, a nice bar, good meal, then when you allow me to ravish you, and ravish you I will, there will be no nonsense about your place of work, about fucking society norms and propriety, right, none of that.” 

“I can’t do that,” Mac blurted.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Tommy - ”

“Fuck Tommy.”

Mac laughed. “He took me to one of his clubs, took me dancing, kissed me like it was his fucking job.”

“That’s because he’s fucking smart. Knows a beautiful woman when he sees one, right, and decides to get his hands on her before some other bloke does.” 

“Then you understand why I have to decline your offer. Both of them.” 

Alfie frowned, stroked his beard. “Are you Jewish, pet?”

Mac shook her head. “No, not that it matters.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, yeah? It does fucking matter because it means I can’t offer you lifelong commitment, right, can’t offer you a forever sort of relationship, the type I think Thomas Shelby might be inclined to persuade you into, yeah that sounds like ‘im. Since you’re a fucking heathen, I can only offer you a good time, but nothing can come of it which means Tommy, right, he can come in and woo you, take the time to convince you of his better nature, if a Godless thing like him ‘as such a thing, but he can offer you that. Me, I’m just offering drinks.” 

“We went from diamonds and sapphires and fucking Fabergé Eggs to drinks and what, friends with benefits until Tommy decides he wants to put a ring on it? Is that what you actually said?”

Alfie nodded.

“Are you bloody well out of your goddamned mind?” 

“Wot?”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re insane.”

“You’re making a much bigger fuss about this than is strictly necessary, pet.”

Mac shook her hair out of her face before tucking her shirt back into the waist of her pants. 

“You can collect your man on your way out, Mister Solomons. I’ll have one of the guards escort you; can’t have you getting lost in my building.” 

“Pet - ”

Mac ignored him, pressed the call button on her phone and waited for a response. “Katie, can you please send one of the boys in? Mr. Solomons is ready to leave, and he needs to pick up his baggage on the way out.” 

She caught the laugh Alfie tried to hide. Part of her was amused, and she wasn’t quite as offended as she put on. It wasn’t as though she and Tommy were, well, anything. Not really. But. Boundaries - especially in her line of work - were important. Something she’d learned a long time ago. And a fling with a man, no matter how attractive she found him, wasn’t worth the risk. 

“Miss Theil?” 

She looked up. “Brody, thank you. Please take Mr. Solomons to the holding area where his associate has been waiting. Our business is concluded.” 

“Of course, ma’am.” 

Alfie took two steps towards the door before turning to face her. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Theil. I look forward to seeing you again for a bit of rum.” 

Mac’s smile was thin. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Mister Solomons. Seems it might not rain.”

Part 7

Master List

Tag List: @polishcrazyone​  @allie131313​  @highgardenrosexx​  @stevie75​

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons x oc #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc

[orangeshinigami]

i updated my VERSES page & now i have naruto & one piece verses since i have some moots from those fandoms mwahaha. (but friendly reminder that even if i don't have a verse for the series your muse belongs to, i'm always willing to plot & come up with a new au to make interactions between our characters easier!) make sure to check it ou y'all <3

mobile users can find my verses under the cut c:

( ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ ) v: main. | canon.

Post-TYBW. Ichigo is between 18-22 years old in this and interactions where he’s about to finish high school or already in college will be set in this verse. He’s just trying to lead a normal life… Or as normal as life can be for someone like him, at least. Though the war left deep scars on his soul & he will often have nightmares about the things he had to endure during it, he’s doing his best to heal & to finally find happiness.

He does end up finding said happiness when at last, he allows himself to acknowledge the romantic feelings he’s had for his long time friend Orihime Inoue for a while & soon after graduating high school, they start a romantic relationship.

( ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ ) v: the one who protects. | canon; pre tybw.

Pre-TYBW, Ichigo is a high school student doing his best to protect his loved ones from ill-intended creatures (and keep his grades up while he does so, not an easy task).

All interactions taking place before the tybw & which follow canon events will be set in this verse.

( ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ ) v: spring day has come. | canon.

Given how powerful Ichigo has become & how much he’s done to aid Soul Society in times of hardship, he has the potential to become a captain should he choose to leave the world of the living & join the gotei 13. In the end however, his human side speaks much louder than the shinigami one, love & devotion to his family keeping him in the human world– aforementioned family grows, when he gets married to Orihime & they have a son named Kazui. 

He’s between 23-29 in this & has mostly healed from the traumas caused by the war. He works from home as a translator & still acts as a substitute shinigami every now & again. He’s absolutely elated that he can finally have a peaceful life alongside his loved ones while still keeping in touch with his friends from Soul Society.

( ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ ) v: shattered windows & the sound of drums; people couldn’t believe what i’d become. | AU.

AU with adversitybloomed

Ichigo’s powers grew far too strong for even his human body to handle & it got to a point where his mere presence in the world of the living was disturbing the balance between the human world & the spiritual one. Left with no other choice, he goes to Soul Society, has to live there now. He isn’t very pleased about that & as he isolates himself in a forest to sort out his thoughts & feelings, he ends up running into a girl, Mulan– a goddess? He doesn’t fully understand what she is, but doesn’t matter. To him, she becomes a savior, the one who gives him hope and helps him comprehend and truly control his own power, so that he can be able to return to his world, to his family eventually.

( ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ ) v: a fate that cannot be shattered. | AU.

Follows the same idea of the AU above, where Ichigo was forced to move to Soul Society due to how great his powers have become, but with a twist: in this, he decides to join the Gotei 13 & learn how to be a “full” shinigami. He does struggle a lot with leaving his human life behind though & will frequently think about giving up the whole embracing his shinigami side thing and just trying to figure a way to return to the world he once belonged in.

( ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ ) v: that orange haired shinobi. | crossover; naruto.

Ichigo lives in Konohagakure, has lived there his whole life. When he was around 4 years old and his sisters barely older than newborns, their parents were killed during Kurama’s attack to the village– leaving them as orphans. He, however, never directed his anger towards Naruto like everyone else did– never blamed him for what had happened either. Because his late mother had taught him to be kind & wherever she may be now, he wanted her to still be proud of him. Besides, Naruto was just like him… An orphan boy, lost and confused who had to figure out how to take care of himself. He’s always sort of felt sympathy towards that poor boy.

And that sympathy later turns into true admiration after Naruto saves the village from pain, despite having been mistreated by most of the villagers his entire life. Ichigo thinks the other really deserves the title of “Hero”.

As for his abilities, Ichigo can perform ninjutsus and genjutsus to satisfactory levels, but his strong suit is taijutsu & he will sometimes use a sword to fight.

( ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ ) v: travel the world & the seven seas. | crossover; one piece.

This is mostly live-action based as I’m not caught up with the anime! Ichigo is a skilled swordsman, having started his training & becoming one after the small village he lived in was attacked by pirates & his family killed in the process. He swore to himself he would become strong to fight cruel people, pirates like those who destroyed his home. Now, he doesn’t really have a place to call home anymore, he’s always traveling– going from one place to the next, hunting down pirates who commit horredous crimes, such as the ones he witnessed when he was but a child.

#i also updated my blogs theme and it looks so pretty #i'm proud of myself for finally having made this blog look decent & #for updating my verses page #tomorrow i shall finally work on drafts and on some of the... 50+ things i have in my inbox #lmao #i love it tho keep on sending me things mmmm #( ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ ) out of karakura town. | ooc.

[slashersgirlypop]

Grilled Cheese Chapter 10

TW: SCAR MENTION

(Sept 2nd, 1978)

            As night approached, I finishing up fixing Michael’s suit. He was still gone, which was surprising. I mean, he was somewhere, doing God knows what in my brother’s shirt and boxers.

            I had the news on and was watching the channel, to see if there have been any reports or updates on the situation. I jumped, hearing the door open and Michael walk in.

            “H-Hi! Welcome back from whatever you were doing!” I called out, briefly glancing at him. His, uh, friend was no longer eager to greet the day, but it was still prominent despite not being so “happy”.

            “Are you hungry?” I asked, working on the last stitch. It took me longer than I thought because not only were there a lot of holes, but I always accidentally cut the thread too short, not to mention how many times I accidentally prodded myself with the thing.

            I felt him behind me, so I looked up at him with a smile.

            “Hey, almost done with your suit, just need to finish this last hole,” I said, before glancing down at his chest, where I could see the bumps on his chest from where the wounds were. I wonder if he had those bullets out or at least attempted to heal his wounds. Would he give me some sort of freedom back rather than being forced to stay in the same room as him until its “time to sleep” if I helped him?

            “Alright, done. Here you go!” Holding it up to him, I watched as he took it, assessing the stitches before walking to the bathroom, closing the door.

            “You’re welcome, I guess,” I muttered to myself. I got up to feed Miss Petunia, who was crying in the kitchen to be fed.

            By the time I was done, I saw Michael, in his suit, standing in in front of the television. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew he was watching it with his odd intensity. I walked up next to him, curious at what caught his attention.

            It was still on the news channel. They were interviewing some guy named Dr. Samuel Loomis.

            “…Michael Myers is a menace and should be avoided at all costs. He’s been in my care for fifteen years, and I can tell you there is nothing but the devil in that monster’s eyes. Nothing I could do could cure the evil in him. In all my years of being a psychologist, I have never known cruelty and devastation like him. If you see him, run and hide, before he hurts you. Once you are in a safe place, please, call the police. There is no reasoning with this demon, only death.” He spoke to the press. I frowned.

            I mean, yes, Michael did hurt me and did show his cruelty when I first met him, but he also showed some form of concern, especially after he punished me. Not that I’m defending him or anything.

            I glanced down, seeing Michael’s knuckles tighten to a bony white.

            “Do you know him?’ I asked, my eyes drifting to his face. He said nothing, the only sound coming from him being his heavy breathing. He turned abruptly, stomping over to the couch and grabbing the remote, forcing it into my hands. He then pointed to the TV.

            “Um, do you want me to change the channel?” When he just pointed again, I hurriedly switched the channel, turning it to some show. It was some show with Dick van Dyke.

            “So, um, are you hungry?” I asked, and he exhaled, walking over to the kitchen table, sitting down.

            I decided to make him a nice grilled cheese sandwich. He seemed like he needed some sort of comfort. Cutting it in half, I put it on his plate, along with some fruit from the fridge.

            I placed it in front of him. Before I could walk away to make my dinner, he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

            “Is everything alright, uh, Michael?” I tried, hoping he wouldn’t get mad at me using his name. He said nothing, before slowly letting my wrist go, shaking his head. Then, he pointed to the laundry room. I sighed.

            “I mean, can I make myself dinner first?” He shook his head, only pointing again at the laundry room. I put my hands up in defeat, walking in the room and closing the door.

            I heard him take the mask off and place it on the table, picking up his sandwich.

            I blew a raspberry. I can’t help but wonder why he refuse to share his face. And why the hell did that Dr. Loomis guy seemed to strike a chord within him?

            After he ate, he let me out of the laundry room. I was surprised when he offered me the other half of his sandwich. This really contradicts what that Loomis guy said.

            “Thank you…”

            After I ate, we sat down in front of the couch, watching the couple on the screen. Miss Petunia jumped onto the sofa at one point. She climbed on my lap, purring as she gently butted her head against my chin. I gave her a kiss on her soft little forehead, stroking her fur affectionately. She crawled across my lap into Michael’s, chirping at the man. She then rubbed her head along his chest, to which I noticed he tensed slightly.

            ‘I bet his wounds are still hurting him…’

            “I think I have a first aid kit in my room with, uh, gauze and medical shit in it. I can try to help you with your bullet holes, if you want?” He turned his head to me, slowly nodding once after a heavy pause.

            After grabbing the kit and heading back downstairs, I smiled at him kindly.

            “Alright, take off the top part of your suit.” He didn’t move. I sighed, raising my eyebrow.

            “Mikey, I can’t help you if I can’t see the wounds,” I said. After another hesitation, he unzipped the front of his suit, opening it up and leaving his lower half in the uniform.

            Okay, did they have a frickin’ gym at the penitentiary or something? His chest was muscular, riddled with muscles. He also had some scars on his chest. Aside from the bullet holes that needed serious attention, I noticed he had what looked like poorly healed wounds, from something that repeatedly hit him.

            His bullet wounds looked bad, though. Very, very bad. One of them looked like it was in the onset of becoming severely infected.

            I pulled up a chair from the kitchen and put it in the family room so he could be able to still watch the television while I worked on him. He sat down on the chair, and I got to work. I suddenly was very grateful for the first-aid class my brother forced me to take. I sterilized my tweezers, wishing I did have some better tools for this.

            “Alright, Mikey. I’m not gonna lie, this will hurt. But I promise, it will help and is much better than getting an infection, okay?” He merely nodded. I sighed, glancing at his chest. I gently and slowly pushed the tweezers into one of the holes, trying to fight off the inner nausea I felt inside me. He tensed as I managed to grab onto the bullet.

            “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how bad this hurts, I’m so sorry,” I told him, wincing in sympathy as I pulled out the bullet. As it finally pulled out with a gross squelch, he seemed to relax, letting out a breath. I quickly stuffed some gauze over the wound, stopping the blood flow.

            After that, I worked in silence, concentrating on pulling out the bullets and stopping him from dying from blood loss.

            “Um, I realized, I know your name, but you don’t know mine. I’m (Y/N), and that,” I motioned to the kitty on the couch, “is Miss Petunia. Normally she doesn’t really warm up to strangers very fast, especially if they are staying so long. I mean, it took her five days to get used to me and a week for Mr. Steinberg.”

            He said nothing, as he normally did. I sighed, refocusing my attention on his last wound. I began to work on cleaning one of the more badly infected wounds. Ten minutes later, I finished and I sat back on my heels, tilting my head at the masked shirtless man curiously.

            “How come you’re so reluctant to show your face?” Nothing.

            “Do you have like a nasty scar or something? Horribly disfigured?” Still nothing.

            “I noticed the other day that your eye looked hurt. Did you cut your eye? I can h-” as I reached up to grab his mask, he caught my wrist. I gasped in shock as he then grabbed my throat, tightening his hold.

            “Hck! I-I’m sorry! I’m so so-sorry!” I choked out, grabbing his wrist and scratching for him to let go. He said nothing, pulling my face in closer to him. He was so close, the nose of his mask practically brushed against mine. All I could see were his eyes glaring at me through his mask’s holes. Then, he let me go, letting me fall onto the carpet, gently holding my throat.

            As I knelt on the carpet, slowly regaining my breath, I couldn’t help but wonder why he refused to show his face.

~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~

Hi Hi!!! Thank you all for your patience once again! I hope you had a wonderful new year day! I watched the second avatar today and lemme just say I am a whore for the navi. WHY ARE THE MEN AND WOMEN SO FINE??? BTW we hate hate HATE Dr. Loomis in this home. I fuckin despise him and he's a disgrace to psychology. Bye, my fellow slasher sluts~~~

#halloween 1978 #michael myers #slasher #yandere michael myers #yandere michael myers x reader #hostage reader

[fluffy-critter]

#crosspost #busybee