#a very brief analysis but... yeah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ashenberry · 2 months ago

Note

BEFORE YOU CLICK ANY READ MORES

Heads up! The read more above this one is 5k words of just summarizing mgs3, and below is 11k words of summary for Portable Ops and Peacewalker. Open at your own risk! And if this gets to the point that post shortning gets it, that automatically opens all read mores! anyways without further disclaimering: Portable Ops and Peacewalker

Portable Ops

Portable ops is interesting im not gonna get too much into it. you would think it being the most recent mgs game i played i would. remember what happened a lot better but. no. ANYWYS portable ops is super interesting it was made by the kojima B team so. kojima didnt work on it directly so it doesnt get to be apart of Kojimas Metal Gear Saga. it was pitched as the "missing link" between 3 and 4 (and it came out before 4) and it really isnt that but as far as i can tell doesnt really directly contradict anything afterwards. funny enough it does contradict. mgs1? retcons grey fox to be a bit older.

Portable ops is a lil weird bc it implied that the 10 years between mgs3 and peacewalker. nothing happened for like. 6-8 of em and then Portable ops happens in '70-71, and then everything went to shit in 72 and then Snake fucked off to the carribeans in 74.

The general overview of portable ops is that Snake after the death of the boss did the equivalent of staring off into space and going through the motions. theres a good handful of memes thats like oh snake missed the point of what the boss said snake thought the boss said we need more war for the soldiers and. i get if you dont play po and pw that is how it reads but it isnt what happen ill get into it more in the peacewalker section.

Anyways basic overview of Portable Ops its 1970 and Snake has decided tactical thigh highs is the look to go for

[squares there to try n make snake smaller]

After 3 he left the cia and thus the unit he was in (the fox unit) and in current year 1970 the fox unit goes rouge n because snakes the most well known fox unit guy he gets. thrown in prison in columbia so his mission is to defeat the rouge fox unit which is being ran by Gene who has a special voice that makes people want to listen him but also everyone voice the states and russia suck shit hard. snake builds up a little unit with. kidnapped soldiers which will later become foxhound i believe, stops metal gear bc theres a metal gear, and stop gene from. creating a private military company that serves as a haven for soldiers and also controls everything which parallels what zero and snake end up doing.

Portable ops is. kind of mid the pacing is weird and. to me there is a giant axe that hangs over the plot of po and that is. Les Enfants Terribles. The project that creates solid snake and liquid snake and solidus snake (though solidus comes a bit after the twins) happens next year. and it feels like the game knows it hangs over the game like an axe and it gets like a couple of mentions at the end of the game. But i do think its interesting innn how it sets up Zero and Snake for the next couple of games

Zero, in response to the bosses death, tries to unite the world by force. The Boss wanted a world like she saw in space one without borders and what Zero does is create a web of information control so he can make the world whole. I'll get into his fuck ups more when we get to mgsv

Snake, in response to the bosses death, goes through the motions and does what he's always done. He has been raised since 15 to be a soldier that is something that connects him to her. he tried fucking off to the woods, tried and true method and he just found himself on the battle field anyways. and like. bb era metal gear is watching him get worst yknow its got that tragedy appeal. If these people were different things couldve gone better but theyre not. and it doesnt.

The end of Portable ops is. i think its mentioned its when the Patroits are formed. The Patroits are the sucessor of the Philosophers and its zeros way of forcing the world to be 1 by like. picking up where the philosophers left off which. Buddy it didnt work last time but whatever. Its starting members consist of Zero, Ocelot, Eva, Para-Medic, Sigint, and Snake.

But as i mentioned, it goes to shit quickly

Les Enfants Terribles

or as i like to call it. the shitty babies project.

This is the project what brought everyones favorite guys Solid Snake and Liquid Snake into the world and then also solidus. whos there. and also doesnt have a birthyear bc we hate him. he wont be mentioned until. end of mgs1 if that, mgs2 more likely.

basic gist of it is that theres been some. tension. between the patriots, mostly zero and snake and it all comes to head here when Zero goes behind Snakes back and creates the shitty babies, Clones of snake except they cant have their own kids and they got terminator genes which makes them age quick as shit after their prime but that wont be an issue for the next 40 years the issue is that this pisses snake the right off and hes like fuck you. fuck this. im starting my own thing that Gene guy mentioned starting a private military company (pmc) i think ill do that. I could probably run it better then how youre running this and he grabs some blond twink from the middle of Columbia and we jump ahead 2 years to get to the beginning of

Peacewalker

PEACEWALKER PEACEWALKER I LOVE THIS GAME my mission here is to make this longer then mgs3 so i apologize in advance. The year is 1974 and our cast for this game includes (and luckily all the main characters have their own set of tapes so its not up for me to decide)

Snake - He's entered his emo era a little bit ill be quite honest part of that is probably voice direction Hayter was told he had to distinct his bb voice from solid a bit or at this point BUT WHATEVER He's at the beginning of the game still going through the motions and now he has a scar on his chest that wasnt seen in portable ops. A scar that looks exactly like The Boss's C-Section scar. He got a c section scar fashioned after the bosses after the shitty babies incident my god.

Kazuhira Miller - Aformentioned "blond twink." I did lie hes not a twink hes built like every other dude in metal gear like that action movie hero bulk. sorry. anyways he his snakes right hand man running the business side of their new Army for Hire "Militaires Sans Frontières" which often gets shortened to msf. yes. like the real world Médecins Sans Frontières (doctors without borders) im pretty sure they got in trouble for this and by they i mean konami they do not mentioned msf by name in v and the logo no longer has the name in it i could fact check myself on this but im doing these from memory for the most part. His name means peace in Japanese, and oohh hes an interesting characterr ill get into it lator

Paz - Introduced as a student from costa rica, shes kind of the reason msf moves from columbia to off the cost of costa rica in the carribean ill get into it more in the summary

Amanda & Chico - Theyre part of the Sandinista National Liberation Front often called just the Sandinistas in the game theyre in Costa Rica trying to get back Nicaragua but the damn CIA came in with fucking metal gears fucking hell. Chico is a little 12 year old boy who likes to talk about monsters and ^-^ he becomes snakes first child soldier after his sister asks you to kill him and snakes like nah. Amanda has become the leader of the Sandinistas after her dad i think died. unfortunate.

Huey - you know about otacon. Otaku Convention. This is Otaku Convention's dad he's working on the Peacewalker Project making metal gears and he knew Granin (Nice Shoes Guy) and plagiarized off his work n hes got a neat ass wheelchair heres him playing soccer with paz

Strangelove - I LOVE STRANGELOVE I WILL GET MORE INTO HER IN THE SUMMARY BC MOST OF HER STUFF IS LIKE MID GAME BUT SHES GOT TRAGIC YURI WITH THE BOSS I LOVE STRANGE LOVEEEE FUCK YESS

Cecile - I. dont know why she gets her own set of briefing tapes in the main game shes just there to tell you to go back track shes kind of nothing in the main game BUT I LOVE HER BRIEFING TAPES SHES SO FUN HEHEHE

Hot Coldman & Zadornov - The main two evil guys. Hot Coldman is (was?) with the CIA and is heading the Peacewalker Project. The project is to make a Metal Gear to be the perfect nuclear deterrent and so he can nuke the shit outta MSF (in which the nuclear fallout would negatively impact central america). Zadornov is a KGB agent whos like pretending to be Paz's professor and hes like yay ^-^ peace ✌ but actually he wants to steal the shit outta Coldmans peacewalker so HE can nuke the shit outta cuba. moral of the story is that everyone else loses during the cold war

ook with that outta the way. the summary

We begin off the coast someewhere in columbia. Snakes joining in on the training of the recruits with fan favorite character KYS Drill sergent

youtube

When kaz pulls up in a vehicle and is like hi :] we got some new clients who want to chit chat

here we meet Paz and her 'professor' Galvez. They come in like heyyy. so we think the CIA is doing some shady shit in costa rica can you likeeeee. do something about that please ? with your soldiers without borders ? maybe ?

and snakes like. nahhh. he doesnt want his msf to become dogs of war and force probably wouldnt help they'd need a diplomat and how he knows a guy who could help so then Paz and Galvez just wait outside in the rain sad dog style hoping that snake changes his mind

and while theyre standing outside sad style kaz is like okay! so that galvez guy is def KGB though paz is probably legit and if we help the KGB disrupt CIA shit then we'll have the states on our ass but also consquider snake. consider. we're broke as shit can we PLEASE take the money and the base theyre offering us. except he phrases it like making it a home and settling down because this games a little yaoiful

they invite the two back in to talk but like. snake and kaz voice we know ur kgb be for real and Galvez (Real name Zadornov) is like lol okay yea kick their ass out n he grabs out his ace to convince snake, a cassette tape. Allegedly recorded by a friend of Paz's that didnt make it, it features a conversation between The Boss and a yet unidentified voice. There is music that was released in the last year to prove that its recent, implying that somehow the boss is still around. Snake says he'll help. For her. He says for Paz but like. we know who its actually for.

SO WE GET INTO THE GAME PROPER we're in costa rica now checking out a cia compound to see what we can find. after some stealth gameplay we see what we can guess given what game series is a Metal Gear, voiced by. a vocaloid. i cant find any information on which one it is, if it is like an established vocaloid and im not too knowledgeable to say who it sounds close to. but the metal gears in this game sing :> heres a link to a video it does the "La la laaaaaa"s alot. anyways we kick some guys shins in and find out that the CIA has brought nukes to costa rica because of course they have fuckin hell.

Kaz suggests hey. That Valdez guy said he's got the Sandinista's on their side. we should try making contact with them so u waallkk over there and at in the roof of a boat house you find... Amanda and Chico! and snake shows them a picture and is like have u seen this guy and that guy is Amanda and Chicos dad and also dead as fuck so they come out and chit chat and smoke (ok well. chico wants to smoke and amanda is like no u are 12.) and Amandas so like what do you do and snakes like im a uhhhhh photographer. i photograph. and he shows off his shitty camera and Amandas like thats kind of shit.

and then Chico gets kidnapped by the metal gear we saw earlier (its name is chrysalis btw) while they were chitchatting and amanda tries to shoot down the people snatcher that yoinked him and snakes like the fall will kill him!??!?!?!? and amandas like better to die with honor!!! and snakes like no and yknow grabs her gun to throw off her aim so she cant shoot it and then chico is gone. and snake is like i will go save him dont worry. and then amanda gets kidnapped by the people snatcher but we shoot her down and the falls far enough to break her leg. and snakes like in addition to totally being a photographer I also am incredibly sick with it. also if yall need a place to stay we got an oil rig we're fixing up real nice. and amandas like fine okay. But if chico buckled under the interrogations and sold out his compas, will you put him down? and snake is like No. I will Not Do That. 👎

SO WE GO AND PICK UP CHICO more stealth gameplay. And we find where theyre keeping chico and we chit chat. fake out on giving him a cigar. he tells us a bit about how it looks like the CIA has been transporting cargo so we got our next location to investigate. chicos like they treat me like a kid but im not! im 12! and its like b. buddy. Snakes like ok well come back with me ur sisters waiting for u x_^ and chicos like i cant i sold them out :( and snakes like thats ok not everyones built to withinstanding torture x_^ and chicos like i wish i was dead :( and snakes like ok and pulls out a pistol and chicos goes WAIT WHAT THE FUCK FOR EEL??? and then snake pulls the trigger.

and shoots one of the photographs he handed chico. the one OF chico. "I just wasted a bullet. dont waste your life" he tells him that chico died today and that hes a new man and that he should totally join his private military company and thats how snake gets his first child soldier babyyy. or as ground zero put it "Young volunteer in Snake's private army" lol. idk why gz says that peacewalker very much says child soldier in the staff management part of the gameplay which hasnt been noteworthy enough to mention yet its just. base management to do inbetween the stealth missions.

So we head deeper into the jungle to follow the lead chico gave us on where the nuclear warheads as they are said to be through a tunnel into the mountain. in the meantime we encounter:

the second tank fight. i didnt mention the first one it was i think shortly after meeting the Sandinistas for the first time but they SUCK I HATE THEMMMM the first ones FINE the 2nd one is TOLERABLE now that ive played it 3 million times for side ops 68 (ill get to that later) and know how to cheese it and the third one later is ASS theyre balanced assuming your playing co op but im please peacewalker in current year 2025 and current year 2024. so im playing SOLO and i play this game nonlethally so it takes EVEN LONGER while i make sure i dont kill anyone. sometimes the tanks kill people but thats not on me. tank driver shouldnt have ran over that guy. anyways the way the fights go when u play them like me is that the tanks have a group of guys protecting it. and u need to knock them out and fulton recover them out of the area. and then more guys come out. rinse and repeat until theres no more guys and then you need to damage the vehicle enough that the driver peaks his head out. tranq him and BOOM. you win AND you get a tank

amanda is like i am so sick of being in med bay let me be USEFUL and kaz is like snake. shes being hysterical and snakes like stop being a asshole kaz if she wants to help she wants to help. and then I the player put her back in medbay bc shes at half health and isnt super helpful yet and it takes like 1 or 2 more missions to be back at full capcity. sorry girl

you find a mountain full of trucks and in these trucks you can find metal gears (as in. gears made of metal not the nuclear armed robotic dinosaurs) fish, hideo kojima, and the truck that HAD the nuclear warheads but its empty now. womp womp

You walk further into the mountain base and find a couple of fellows having a discussion. Here we meet Hot Coldman and Huey Emmerich. the part of the conversation we mainly hear is

huey: YOU SAID WE WERENT GONNA LAUNCH A FUCKING NUKE ?????? coldman: i lied :] we gotta prove my perfect deterrence theory

and then he pushes huey down the stairs (who may i remind chat. is in a wheelchair) so we know for sure that coldmans the bad guy. snake rushes over and is like hi. where r the nukes? and hueys like oh god oh fuck hes gonna launch them and is like coldman went that-a-way though by the time snake catches up, coldman is leaving with the warheads, metal gear Peacewalker and metal gear Chrysalis. and snake is just left to deal with the first metal gear fight of the game against

Metal Gear Pupa

surprisingly enough out of the 4 metal gear fights in the game i would call this one the 2nd easiest instead of the easiest. the pupa fight takes place in a circular arena where pupa will run around, run you over, shoot you, and zap you with electricity while huey gives you advice from the stands. after depleting its health you jump into its aipod, take its memory boards as it sings to you, and hop out before it explodes and the ai pod flies away

after the fight huey comes up to you and goes like Huey: who the hell are you snake: im an etymologist. im here for butterflies. Huey: you fought a fucking metal gear snake: gonna catch some Ulysses Huey: those arent from costa rica. a morpho maybe? snake: yea yea those. before the washington treaty goes in effect Huey: the washington treaty doesnt cover morphos.

and after the beautiful butterfly convo huey expains what the hell coldman is doing, his "perfect deterrence" plan. the logic goes:

the main thing preventing nuclear war is mutually assured destruction. you nuke us we nuke you. the idea of nuclear deterrence is using nukes to keep nukes in check. you wont nuke us if you know we have nukes and will hit you back. the flaw in this, as coldman purposes, is the fact that people dont want to cause nuclear winter. and will not retaliate because of this. and one side can exploit this. with his Perfect Deterrence (Peace Walker) it is an unmanned machine that will retaliate, taking out the possibility that a human will decide not to retaliate.

and then huey gets into his backstory and how his dad worked on the manhatten project that worked to make the nuke the US used on japan and his dad issues, snake offers him to chill at MSF, and he sends us to our next person to meet, Dr. Strangelove

so further into the jungle we go as we find cutscene snake taking off his shirt to eat a raw fish in a pond he found. keep in mind. he has ration. he can call in more rations if he wants we have a helicopter that can drop a cardboard box on his head full of rations. we even see him drink some tea at the beginning of this cut scene. he wants that fish raw goddamit.

in this next stretch, we are handed hueys ID card so we can get into strangeloves lab and we encounter

the third and final vehicle fight against a helicopter. i fucking HATE this one this is the one that broke my nonlethal run in my original playthrough because this tiny ass helicopter can fit 16 guys which is more fulton balloons then which you have at this point (and to beat these fights nonlethally you have to extract everyone out OR hope the vehicle kills them cause then it isnt on u but that aint in the spirit of things imo) so the fight has a couple placed around ANYWAYS i didnt like this one. finally beat it non lethally on my last playthrough tho yay yippie

CECILE ! a french lady whos an Ornithologists (Studies birds) and was here to study the birds of costa rica before she accidentally recorded that cassette from the intro and stumbled into something she shouldnt have and was held hostage until she swiped a guards card and managed to get out here where we meet her. Snake plays his classic im just here to check out the animals bit and still hasnt put any research into the washington treaty and claims a redlisted bird as free game. after some chit chat we convince her to head back to base as snake continues on.

After some stealth gameplay we make it to the aztec ruin that they decided to put strangeloves lab into annddd. hueys card doesnt work. its been made clear at this point that huey has something of a crush on strangelove and his only reaction really is weh D: she hates me ???? D: BUT LUCKILYY cecile had an ID card she stole from someone !! it was taken from her while she was escaping so we'll have to find that guard but atleast is isnt a dead end.

The ID card can be found in any of the like. last 5 areas you were just in and will be in the same area as a quetzal and youll hear its song. (or you can just call cecil on your codec and if youre in the right area she'll be like bingo!) for me this has always been in the furthest area except on my most recent playthrough in which it was an area where GUARDS DONT EVEN SPAWN. except for THAT GUY I GUESS. whatever back to strangeloves lab where we can finally open the door.

as snake walks through he is greeted by a horse. her horse. The Boss's horse. a horse he hasnt seen in a decade and that any normal person would assume dead via being bombed to hell and back.

and then he notices the woman standing in the inner doorway to the lab

she's been waiting for him. goads him on a bit. you here to destroy my research? to kill me like you killed her, big boss? the title he was awarded for killing the boss. Do you still wear that title with pride (he has never worn it with pride at ALL at this point. anytime someone tries to kill him it its please call me snake instead. for the love of god) Snake repeats the official story to her. the boss is dead. she defected to russia and nuked a facility. But strangelove isnt buying that story. that wasnt The Joy she knew. that wasnt The Joy that she loved. The Boss is dead, but you want to talk to her dont you? I can arrange that. follow me. but ☝ no smoking inside my facility asshole i only got snuff and then we get this image

anyways

Strangelove shows Snake the Mammal Pod. For project peacewalker, coldman wanted that M.A.D. style AI that would deliver the best retaliatory attack towards the most appropriate target. Strangelove is like oh then youll probably want just like. a cool calculating machine but coldman was like actually he wants, and to quote strangelove here, " the thought patterns of the very finest rational mind. one that thought on a global scale took both past and future into consideration and reached the best decision no matter how painful."

and strangelove was like goddamn do i know a person like that. and gathered EVERYTHING the CIA had on the boss to recreate her for the mammal pod. which also included a lot of information on snake.

Snakes like okay. whats the real goal here? to which strangelove responds To Clear Her Name. What actually happened that forced The boss's hand like that. To know what her final will was. You would like to know too, wouldnt you jack? which then triggers the ai pod, the boss ai pod into recognizing who it is infront of her and starts pleading with him to go home. as she once did in that russian jungle 10 years earlier.

Complete your misssion Snake.

Extinguish that noble soul once again,

if you can.

Your put into another 'remove the memory boards from the ai pod' that ends each of the metal gear fights. this one is unwinnable though. it ends in a minute when Snake passes out from. I always assumed maybe lack of oxygen + the fucking. emotions :tm: but apparently according to the scenario book the snuff was laced with sleeping drugs EITHER WAY. strangelove calls it off bc snakes presence started making it freak out instead of revealing the truth like she was hoping for and we get to see snakes pass out dream

He's in that flower field from the end of mgs3. where he last saw her. as various lines throughout the that game play as a distorted memory plays out. Ive taught you all that I can. There's a saying in the orient: Loyal to the end. Do you know what it means? It means devoting yourself to your country. As long as we have loyalty. theres no point in believing in anything else, even in those we love. The only thing we can believe in absolute certainty is the mission, jack. Im defecting to the Soviet Union. Jack

You cant come with us.

and then Snake wakes up back outside and its the fucking

METAL GEAR CHRYSALIS FIGHT BABYYYYYY

IN UNIVERSE it is MY OPINION that this is the STRONGEST METAL GEAR THEY EVER MADE and they DONT CONTINUE WITH THE DESIGN BECAUSE IT ISNT FUCKING BIPDEAL. IT FLIES. IT CAN DODGE MISSILES. YOU NEED A SPECIFIC ASS GUN THAT HAS HEAT SEEKING MISSILES OR ELSE ITS UNWINNABLE BC IT DOES A TELEPORTS BEHIND YOU MANUVER. DIPSHITS ALL OF THEM

post fight you get a little call from kaz and hes like snake are you sure u can do this B| ? the boss is dead yknow B| been dead for 10 years and snakes like I GET IT. I CAN DO IT DONT WORRY. kaz voice shes dead yknow. wtver. onwards!

oh i forgot to mention but shortly after we rescued huey hes like hey im making a metal gear for US. our own deterrent. im naming him zeke after japanese fighter jets :] and snakes like... okay.

So we continue onwards towards peacewalker to destroy the mammal pod and oh my g

METAL GEAR COCOON

ALREADY??? THERES. BASICALLY ONLY A MISSION OF BREATHING ROOM YOU WALK ACROSS 1 LOADING ZONE AND THEN FIGHT 24 GUYS AND THEN ANOTHER METAL GEAR. anyways EASIEST metal gear i have EVER fought its too big for its own good! you can just hide under it and bomb it when its doing its long ass attacks in the wrong area. it DOES try to crush you but you can just stay near the sides and walk out ORRR.

BUT WE DEFEAT COCOON AND HEAD INTO THE MINE THAT THIS IS RIGHT OUTSIDE OF we see coldman and strangelove off somewhere leaving an opening for snake to get inside the mammal ai pod and destroy it once and for all.

He slides in and the boss ai greets him. jack youve returned. your body temperature has dropped. your pulse has quickened. have you come to destroy me.

and snake. with the opportunity presented. tries his luck to see if he can get some answers. Is that you? do you have regrets? regrets? about operation snake eater. in gronzy grad. I've never been on a mission there 1964. You defected. I killed you. I have no record of such debriefing. Did you defect of your own free will? There is no mission matching that description.

Snake raises his weapon to destroy the mammal pod. This is not The Boss. The Boss is dead.

And then Strangelove and Coldman are like hiiii fucker. You always get the mammal pod acting up when your around and then snake calls coldman a bitch and coldman clocks him in the jaw but he takes it like a champ

Coldman then starts monologuing. blah blah blah i planned the operation to eliminate the boss blah blah blah the cia kicked me out for being a little bitch blah blah blah have i told you about my beautiful plan to nuke the world. Im gonna start with your rinky dinky army without borders base. guard kick his ass.

And then we get into a fun quick time event sequence thats over once u fail that i havent finished bc i play on a nintendo controller idk which one is triangle im sorry

...

we see snake back in that flower field from snake eater. back to that distorted memory that we saw the last time snake passed out after talking to the mammal pod. It plays out differently this time

I didn't defect. I'm loyal to the end to my purpose. What about you Jack? What's it going to be? Loyalty to you country or loyalty to me? Your country or your old mentor? Your mission or your beliefs? Your duty to your unit or your personal feelings? The only thing we can believe in with absolute certainty… Is the mission Jack.

Splash of cold water and snakes tied up shirtless in a torture room again. Strangeloves got two zappy sticks and wants answers. She wants to know what happened in '64. Officially the story is that the boss defected to russia, took a davy crocket, and nuked the shit out of some poor facility. But what really happened, Snake?

Snake repeats the official story. She sold us out and my orders were to take her out. Strangelove calls bullshit and god its a fucking electrocution minigame. which SUCKS BC ITS A BUTTON MASHER AND IM NOT GOOD AT THEM uhh theres 3 of them its only the last one that sucks. props to the team. i feel like im being electrocuted the way i mash god.

Snakes like do whatever the fuck you want it doesnt change the fact that I killed her! and strangelove responds with i KNOWW but what i need to know is MOTIVE. why would the boss, loyal to the end, betray her country. what the fuck happened what did you see.

Snake sticks with the official story

Another Zap

Strangelove is like then why the fuck are you wearing her bandana, why the fuck did you have a scar that is fashioned after hers. why keep a memento of a traitor.

"Admit it! She sacrificed her life for America didn't she?! Sacrificed all for a country that cared nothing for her soul or for her dignity and you…! Yes I do hate you. But even you must understand how I feel… I have a right to know what she died for! Why won't you tell me? You're no longer one of Washington's lapdogs. You've no moral obligation to your country. Answer me! Would you see your beloved Boss brought back to life?! Then say it. Say she died for America! That she remained true to the end. Gave her life for the country that betrayed her time and again!"

Snake sticks with the official story.

Strangelove demands to know why. who is he protecting by answering her and Snake says shes not gonna help her finish peacewalker. The boss is dead and she is not in that Mammal pod.

Another zap and this ones fucking long and it sucks and snake passes out.

We wake up in a cell with. nothin. they took everything. weapons. items. his shirt. all we can do is take a fat nap

OR. theres a mirror to the right there. if snake takes a gander at himself he will pull out a jigsaw from his da boss scar which we can use to break the lock and bail

We get out and Kaz is like oh thank god your fine and they have some fun banter. Kaz next time we put a jigsaw in a chest maybe something a bit sharper and kaz is like haha yea we'll get diamond. wdym next time. they have a laugh and snake starts coughing like he was just electrocuted and kaz is like D: and snakes like dont worry. the pain in my chest is gone, referring to the pain hes felt for the past decade in relation to the boss (though this reads a lot more clearly in the JP version, in ENG it kind of reads a lot more literal as kaz is like hey that was just a copy of the boss's scar snake voice yep its gone the scar itself. where as JP kaz is like that scar... JP snake yea. LIKE asking by pain do u mean the pain the scar represented. according to some gamefaqs guy on a tumblr post i saw. i dont personally speak japanese sorry.) anyways Paz and the professor havent been seen at the school paz goes to in a while. Concerning. maybe Valdez knows a safehouse being kgb n all given that coldman has his eye turned towards us. Anyways! We need to chase down peacewalker!

but before that. A small intermission, an aside. There is a lot of fun little moments that ive been skipping over for sake of summary but yknow. are good character moments and honestly kaz has taken the biggest hit since hes barely been mentioned and hes like. Snakes right hand man hes the guy who tells u all the shit forever in this game sooooo! Be4 peacewalker I just wanna go over the briefing tapes.

Each Major character has a set of briefing tapes which are just conversations with snake. Some tell you more about game mechanics, more about the characters, or current affairs.

Kazuhira Miller

If you can only listen to one, I would suggest this one its a minute long and maybe my favorite tape in the game About. a third? of the tapes are just about game mechanics, and then Half is about current (re: 1974) History as it pertains to peacewalker; cold war, thats going in in central america, Che Guevara, etc etc. and then there are the tapes about himself & MSF. His mom was a victim of the firebombing of tokyo that happened in 1945 during world war 2 and she lost her home and family, forcing her to move to Yokosuka to live with her cousin. The bombs were dropped and suddenly places Yokosuka were flooded with american soldiers. Kaz's mom learned how to survive in that town from her cousin by, as the game puts it, servicing the soldiers and this is when his parents meet. Kaz states that he treated her life a wife and then after returning to the states completely ghosted her and it isnt until after he left that kaz is born. He left them a good amount of money so She opened a shop and sold stuff to the occupational troops. Due to the fact that Kaz's dad was unknown and the laws at the time, he couldnt get on the family registry and thus wasnt granted citizenship. That and on top of being a blond and blue eyed motherfucker lead to him getting bullied by the other kids i believe? and he copes with it by going whatever its fine im not even upset because im🦅 AMERICAN🦅 and starts showing this picture of his dad he found in the back and showed it to everyone to try and figure out who the guy is and around when hes like 10 his mom gets really sick so hes solo running the shop and he finally starts getting leads on his dad, Colonel Miller, he left the service and was an instructor for soldiers in Virginia so Kaz writes a letter in english going hi. bastard son. can i come to the states? and after a while gets a letter back with the money to do so and convinces his bedridden mom to let him go. She does, he puts her in a hospital and visits his father. Miller is. He lost his american son in vietnam, his wife divorced him, he doesnt work anymore all of which is why he did finally respond to kaz's letter after all that time so he gives kaz the last name + money to go to college, kaz learns english, graduates, and heads back to japan to see his mom. andd

she wouldn't even look at me. At first I thought she was mad at me. But that wasn't it. Disease had taken her mind… A disease she'd gotten when she was young and desperate. She didn't even know who I was. I said, "Mom, it's me, Kazuhira." As I spoke, the sound of my own voice rang in my ears. Kazuhira. The name my mom gave me. It means "peace" in Japanese. I was Japanese. At least, I was the son of this tiny Japanese woman. It was then, for the first time, that I understood the reason - the emotion - that inspired my mother to give me that name. She'd watched her hometown and family go up in flames. Her body and her mind were ravaged by war… And yet she chose to have a child named "peace," with a man who was once her enemy.

Kaz stays in Japan. Joins the JSDF (Japan Self Defense Force) to pay for his moms hospital bills and bc he didnt know what else to do with himself. couple years later he didnt need to worry about those bills and he headed back to his states but his dad had commited suicide and kaz is like this fucking sucks. i wanna take my fate into my own damn hands. and then columbia happens where he tries to blow himself and bb up and then after failing that was like ok ^-^ lets do msf. MSF is kind of both of Snake and Kaz's attempt to take control of their life. At this point Les Enfants Terribles has happened. Another instance of someone using snake to further their own agendas regardless of his input so this has been him trying to figure out that whole Loyalty to yourself part of what the Boss said. For Kaz on the otherhand its kind about proving that hes worthy to be not only acknowledged but somone who is important and worthy. He always talks about how MSF is a new kind of business and how theyre a force to be reckoend with and i am TIRED of talking about kaz for now whos next later in time ashen here hi i started writing this in october and i do wanna touch a little bit on the like.. internalized racism we see kaz go through in the series because ultimately, Kazuhira is the retconned backstory of Benidect Mcdonnel Miller from mgs1 so we do ultimately have to go from peacewalker kaz who does love to mention that hes japanese and this is how some things are done in japan etc etc to i think howi think it was faksyan puts it, the Patriot of master miller in mgs1. and as the games in timeline order go on (tiny bit of a tiny accident considering the release order) we do see him like. hide and cut off more and more of it. In V he's credited as Benidect "Kazuhira" Miller with kaz in quotes like its an alias and not his name. yknow all n all to say i think the politics of the time and the complexes this guy in particular hold mix to create an interesting sort of fella TIRED OF TALKING ABOUT HIM

Paz

OK SO I DONT HAVE MUCH TO SAY YET WE ARE GONNA WAIT UNTIL THE. the post game? chapter 6? TO GET INTO PAZ I UH. youll see. Her briefing tapes are mostly Costa Rica facts since well. thats her main role. to Tell snake about the place, as well as talking about the concept of Peace. I always liked the discussion about the peace sign and how it use to be V for victory.

Amanda

Most of Amanda and Snakes conversations beyond the more gameplay focused one ("watch out for this type of soldier!") Is talking about The Sandinias, about leadership. About Amanda stepping up to lead the Sandinistas and history about just generally shooting the shit

Chico

Chico's including telling you about the landmarks of the areas and about criptids! and monsters! and if you listen to all of thejm you get the monster hunter mission! the monster hunter mission the reason the monster hunter movie sucks apperently because the decided to base the monster hunter movie off of metal gear solid peacewalker?? baffling choice. We also get his opinons on his family. has a very little brother opinion of his sister. "shes always bossing me around and treating me like a kid! im 12 goddamit >:|" and he talks about how hes ready to give up his life for the cause like his dad. Kids going through it. Snake and Amanda often talking about after this is over getting him into school so he can have a future outside of guriella warfare. he also has a crush on paz.

Huey Emmerich

Huey mainly talks about Nucelar deterrance and the arms race! he talks about all the metal gears and his daddy issues. His dad worked on the manhatten project and how he resents him because of the aftermath of the nukes dropped in japan that he learned from a transfer student in his class, and he blames his dad work for the reason he's disabled. He talks about how he kind of fucking plagerized alot of his work from Granin (Nice shoes guy from mgs3), he tells you a LOT about the peacewalker project, how peacewalker works how the AI works, how they plan on deploying peacewalker and why it needs to walk, he kind of treats snake as a confessional ill be honest. He also invented Vaping

Dr. Stangelove

WE WILL COME BACK TO HER ONCE WE GET A BIIIIT MORE OF HER IN THE STORY consequence of the placement of this briefing tapes summary

Cecile

OHHHH MY GOD SHE IS SUCH A FUCKING DELIGHT???? WAH ok so you remember her in the main story she shows up once to to hand you a keycard and thats the extent of her involvement in the main story but her breifing tapes? oh i love them. If you can listen to any of them, heres my favorite with the MONSIERRR MILLLARRR has SHIT TASTE IN WINEEEE the BASTARDDDDD. She mainly talks art and philsophy with snake, along side bird talk where kaz comes in and talks about how much he like trains and cecile starts bullying him theyre DELIGHTFUL

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ok that should be it for briefing tapes until we get to the end of the game. we left off with snake escaping jail and chasing down peacewalker, who is just outside! Awesome! shoot a bullet at it and now peacewalker wants us dead thats fineee we'll just hit it with a couple of rocket launchers and fight over! just need it to let us get into the ai pod anddd. oh fuck its coldmans helicopter leading it away as it goes into full quadruped mode and gallops away. luckily for us, the bosses horse shows up and we chase it through costa rica, dodging missiles up untillll it climbs over a mountain too tall to scale and crosses over into nicaragua. Snake certainly tries but the slope is too steep for the horse and they fall. The horse breaks his legs and snake has to put him down. you the player have to pull the trigger and the scene switches between the horse in current day, and the boss in that field back in 64 as it waits. In my playthroughs, the scene always changes to the boss right as i press the trigger, though in a playthrough i brought up of the ps3 version it has you shoot twice. once for the horse and once for the boss. we get a rendition of Evas end speech about the boss before we keep moving forward.

oh and btw! coldman has paz! fucking hell. Lucky for us amanda knows a guy whos got a boat to get us into nicaragua and from there its just stealthing through a US base to get to the communication tower. except that all the guards are. russian? weird. Snake asks kaz on the radio hey theyre planning to nuke the shit outta us shouldnt we evacuate? and kaz is like nahhh. we got all the sandinistas and cecile out bc this isnt their battle but everyone here believes in u man go get em ^-^ so we do a bit of stealthing and get to the comm tower and we find paz on a monitor, shes in some other room but we can talk via video call. She lets us know that coldman went to the Control tower, a different tower bc all we have is towers, to put in launch data before 🚨‼ fuck an alarm went off. kaz says theyre sending the whole fuckin base as back up but for now we got to fight our way to the control tower in a section that im sure i would have hated a lot more if i didnt have save states. We fight our way through a corridor of guys with guns and rocket launchers and sniper rifles before getting into a tussle with a helicopter and. the music changed? to a soft love song??? This is where we get the first vocal rendation of Heavens Divide, the vocal theme for the song, and i fucking adore this song but what a baffling placement for it. im getting my ass handed to me by a helicopter. but whatever we blow up the helicopter and make it into the control tower

wheree. we're cornered. theres 1 billion guys here all with their guns pointing at snakes head as coldman comes out to monolouge at us AGAIN. hes got false data for peacewalker to prove his detterence theory yadda yadda nuking the shit out of msf and then the professor guy shows up! from from the beggining the guy who hired us! and coldman and him are chit chatting like they know eachother. they do. they were working together to make peacewalker but nows the time for the professor to turn on coldman and make the grab for metal gear. Zadornov (the professa) is like you dumb piece of shit u think i want the cia to win. fuck off. we're nuking cuba and its gonna be ur fault. which is gonna be great for the ussr. He then grabs paz and holds a gun in her hand and holds up coldman at gunpoint and is like cmonnn paz. hes so fucking shootable u wanna shoot him so bad and paz is like n. no?? and zadornov is like ah. Sad! and shoots coldman point blank with the gun still in paz's hands kind of like. putting his hands over hers so hes kind of like forcing her to shoot but like. he shot him we know this. He shot him in the shoulder cause Zadnornov still needs the code to launch the nukes and starts threatning strangelove to make the changes so pw targets cuba and then turns his attention to snake and is like THANK YOU for doing all that hard work ^-^ now to put you down so you dont get in my way. dead at 39 like el che. the only reason i remember what age snake is in any of these games. Zadornov has snake dead to rights before the sandinistas come in guns blazing! taking down zadornovs forces, theyre like fuck yeah! we're back in nicaragua!! one of the sandinistas call amanda comandante to finish up her leadership arc, Snake and Amanda compliment eachother back and forth as all the sandinistas call snake vic boss, and theyre just generally like yay we did it :] we stopped the nukes :].

tiny like half hour time jump we're outside, the sandinistas are celebrating, Kaz is taking Paz, Zadornov, and Coldman back to base, and snake is like iiii stilll need to kill the boss ai. Strangelove pulls up in her truck is like ohhh cmon you wanna talk to her so bad the same way I wanna talk to her so bad. hop in boy lets go chit chat with the boss

cut to the helicopter with Kaz and co with kaz lecturing paz on how she shouldnt shoot guns and im kicking him in the back of the head mentally bc she. thats not what fucking happened. Paz is ignoring him bc shes stronger then me and drawing peace symbols in the window when... theres typing going on in the back and.

oh my fucking god. Kaz didnt take the fucking "Launch Nukes" button away from coldman. that stupid son of a bitch. Coldmans entered the launch code. Peacewalker's sending false data of a russian attack on the states while it prepares to nuke the fuck out of cuba. Coldmans like cuba isnt my number 1 but im so excited that my theory is gonna be proven right ^-^ ✌ btw im the only one who knows the abort code. and then he dies. asshole.

Strangelove and Snake are still driving towards peacewalker when kaz is like NORAD THINKS THERE THE US IS GONNA GET NUKED TO SHIT YOU NEED TO DESTROY PEACEWALKER FOR REAL THIS TIME HUEYS EASEDROPPING ON THEM AND ALSO THE PRESIDENT AND THE VICE PRESIDENT ARE AT THE SALT 2 TALKS THEYRE NOT AROUND and strangeloves like yeah the only way to stop this is to destroy her. so begins peacewalker fight... 2!

PeaceWalker... 2!

this is the part of the game i would say that if your playing a normal person is the point where you neeeed to grind for better missiles but thats not plot relevant. This is also the only fight in the game where I would say that you actually need to pay attention to Snakes Pscyhe meter. Snake has a health bar and a psyche meter. health runs out you die, psyche runs out and he passes out and u need to wiggle the stick to wake him up. Now is this because peacewalker is the only metal gear that fucking growls at you? and jumps at him? and swings with its metal gear paws? is it because that. in some way. it is the boss? you decide :] the fight mainly goes peacewalker is launching the nuke, damage it enough to get it into self defense mode so you dont have a time limit, and its just switching between these two modes until the end of the fight

we did it :3 we stopped the launch :3. one problem. its still sending false data to NORAD. the US still thinks its about to get nuked to shit in 10 minutes.

a bunch of guys in suits are meeting at the pentagon discussing what they should do and theyre coming to the conclusion that yeah. nuking the ussr sounds cool and we're listening in bc huey hacked into this convo which honestly shouldnt be on any airwaves idk how we're doing this. Anyways to stop peacewalker from broadcasting false data would take a lot of fuckign effort we would need to push it into the lake and snake is just 1 guy he cant do that. he can do a lot he cant push it into the lake so. plan b! we ask them nicely to not nuke russia

Snake gets the pentagon on the line. somehow. with his briefcase phone. and its like its me big boss thats FAKE DATA DONT FUCKIGN LAUNCH THE NUKES and these pentagon bastards are like mmmmmm prove ur big boss. and snake is like fuckinn. ok if u know the name big boss then u were at the cereomony where i got it you were at mgs3 and you would knowwww that i didnt shake the presidents hand. and one of these pentagon bastards is like hes right I was there i was the potted plant in the corner and his pentagon bastard buddies all draw their guns on this guy and is like fuck off. we're nuking russia.

snake hangs up and notices. a butterfly. and looks up at pw as a bunch of butterflies erupt from the ai pod. Peacewalker is opening the pod and letting snake in. and we get to maybe my favorite scene in the game.

Snake is once again in the ai pod taking out the memory boards. Every memory board. in previous battles half of them are broken but here theyre all in tact. you have 5 minutes, more then enough time. Each time you pull out a memory board, the boss ai pod says a line. it begins with her final lines from mgs3. Ive been waiting a long time snake. for your birth, your growth, and the finality of the day. The pod is filled with butterflies that transform into flower petals from that flower field a decade ago. After getting through a little bit over a quarter of the memory boards and the lines from the boss start to. corrupt. The lines more computer then person. The quick fox jumped over the lazy dog. the digits of pi. which it never gets right but as you go on goes from several decimal points to. approximately 3. halfway through each memory board you remove causes it to make a pained noise as it begs snake to kill her. the last 5. it just repeats his name as it gets more and more corrupted. jack. j̶̭̟̕å̵͕̱͑c̴̤̟̎ḵ̶̛̍. j̵̥̠̫̙̄̓̍͌a̷͇͎͊̀c̶̗͈̘̓ḵ̵̈́͘

the boss ai pod (the mammal pod) is dead. the false transmission to norad is stop- hm? whats that? norad is still getting false data? bc of peacewalkers second ai pod the reptile pod? as huey and strangelove go oh it must be functional compesation? killing ourselves tonite queen? snake bang on it from the inside begging it to stop and we go into

Peacewalker... 3!

this one isnt a fight your just shooting peacewalker until youre out of ammo its really so they can tie the ending cutscene to a mission thats easier peacewalker fight 2. Peacewalker is shown to just be. utterly out of commision but the reptile pod is protected by a casing that can withstand a nuclear blast. anyways

Peacewalker... gets up. with 3 minutes until false impact of those false missiles peacewalker gets up. and starts to walk forward. it starts to play Sing by The Carpenters that we've heard a couple of times throughout the game and begins to. walk itself into lake.

Peacewalker drowns itself to stop the false transmission.

The boss kills herself to prevent nuclear war for the second time.

huey says that peacewalker isnt thinking rationally, with its brain but rather with its heart. Strangelove speculated that this song must be joys answer. Kaz says that the bosses innocence has been proven

Strangelove: You saw it didn't you when you went to space… That there's beauty outside of battle. At last I understand in the end… It was you who put down your gun… And chose instead to sing… They can all hear you… I know they can… And your will shall surely live on. That's what you wanted… So much that you gave up everything you had… But you couldn't achieve it. Isn't that right? And still all you can do is sing. There's no Peace to be found anywhere. And so we can only keep on Hoping… Hoping for the illusion we call peace.

and we fade to the credits. Sing & Heavens divide are the two credit themes that play. and afterwards we get snakes reaction. in what i have lovingly dubbed his "she hates my pussy, kaz" moment but its more accurate to call it. the moment of no return. the moment he really falls and becomes the villian we see in later games. theres a ton of these moments in this game, from starting a fucking pmc called soldiers w/o borders, to them making their own metal gear but this is if nothing else the most symbolic moment.

Miller: Snake? You still here? C'mon, let's go back. Snake: I'm not going back. Miller: Huh? Snake: I'm done. Miller: Snake, you don't mean... Snake: I'm done looking for the truth. Miller: What are you saying, Snake? Snake: I was wrong. Miller: C'mon, Boss. Everybody's waiting for you. Snake: ...She betrayed me, Kaz. Miller: She what? Snake: In the end, she put down her gun. And when she did... she rejected her entire life up to that point... including me. Miller: What do you mean? Snake: In giving up her life, she abandoned everything she was as a soldier... Miller: And you consider that betrayal? Snake: I won't make the same choice as her. My future's going to be different. Miller: Then... Snake: Yeah, that's right. From now on, call me Big Boss.

in this moment bb decides that his identity as a soldier, as a gun. is more important to him then what the boss gave up her life for. It is the moment he accept the title Big Boss, something he has pointedly rejected up until this point. The end of the chorus, and of the games theme Heavens Divide is And for you, only you I would give anything Leaving a trace for love to find a way and if you take the japenese version of the lyrics and translate it into english (though admittedly, we are kind of doing a lot of jumping back and forth, i just really like the alternate translation) it is I'll leave my footsteps behind so you, my love, wont get lost and this moment is when he stops following. chooses his own path. and that path is endless war.

Peacewalkers Final Chapter

From here on out theres really just dealing with zadornov right? In the main missions tab there is about. 7? hide and seek missions with zadornov who we were keeping in our brigg. He keeps escaping so we need to find him in all the major areas in peacewalker. halfway through snake is like are you SURE someone isnt releasing him?

inbetween each of the hide and seek missions you need to play some other missions and theres a ton of side ops to do. if you replay the metal gear fights in the main ops you can aqurie bonus tapes from strangelove in relation to the development of the boss ai pod. If you play the side ops 'hard' versions of the metal gear fights you get the Paz Diaries. It is here I will. finally get into the deal with paz because really this is around when the game does

After completing the zadornov hide and seek missions you are tasked with finding zadornov in a side op (its the first one on the list) where snake accidentally kills him. This is actually a distraction. Because someone hijacked Metal Gear Zeke, msf's metal gear. And the hijacker is Paz.

Paz this entire time has been a double agent. Fooling Zadornov she actually works for Cipher and is somewhere in her 20s. Cipher is also the patriots it is the group that Zero is running. The Paz diaries generally include Paz's experience during her time at msf. It starts very dismissive and bitter but over time does show her starting to like the people, until one night where she was trying to sabotage zeke so she could delay her mission to hijak it just a bit longer, she is caught by chio and puts the plans in motion. She gives snake a choice, join back with zero and do the patriots bullshit or she'll nuke the east coast and blame it on them. Obviously snake chooses neither, blows up zeke, and paz escapes to return in another game

Paz also. recieves maybe the worst treatment that I think out of any female metal gear character. This does get a bit heavy and though i will dance around the topic a little bit just as a result of my discomfort, i will say if you do not want to read anything about sexualization of a minor and assult skip to the next time you see a ... paragraph break

This stands as my biggest critisim of the game. The sexualization of paz is fucking terrible oh my god. Yes, paz is actually 20 something but neither the player nor the characters are expected to be aware of this until the second ending of the game. The way Paz is introduced is when zadornov goes this is Paz. she is Sixteen and has had terrible things to her. and this is when the game introduces the ability in some cutscenes to zoom in and look at the girls in their underwear. This to me completely counters the argument of well of course the characters treat her poorly in this regard theyre Bad People because it is something the game itself encourages you to do. After beating Peacewalker you unlock A date with Paz which in a parallel to the later unlocked Date with Kaz, which ends the same was as that mission. In one of the Paz Diaries, Strangelove seems to use putting sunscreen on paz as an excuse to be inappropriate. To get into ground zeros a bit there also the set of tapes that I Will Not Get into partially bc i havent listend to them or read the transcript because of the nickname theyve garnered. in GZ there is a fairly graphic scene of her getting her stomach opened up to remove a bomb (graphic to the point it was censored in japan) and the second bomb that killed her was shoved somewhere 'no one would think to check' and in TPP instead of a hospital gown shes in a hospital bikini. To say Paz was handled poorly would be to imply there was an attempt to handle or tackle any of this. Woman in metal gear games generally get oversexaulized but i think in the case of paz it is particularlly aggreious and worth critizing holy shit.

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okay back to the summary.

Post Metal Gear Zeke we get into the games final ending split into Snake and Kaz's Chat, Huey and Strangeloves chat, and the post credits audio blurb.

In Order ! Huey And Strangelove: Strangelove tells huey hes got a shot with her if he would just "stand on his own" baffling to end the game with the lesbian hooking up with a dude. It is shown next game that it was really just so she could get her epic meme baby that she would actually spirtually raise with the boss but yknow. I dont think that completely shields it from critisism.

Snake and Kaz: Kaz tells snake that he knew Paz was Cipher the whole time and went behind his back because oh my god they needed the money and snake goes off on a rant about how theyre going to take on society because society took the boss from him and even if he is knowingly, conciously, going against her dying wishes that doesnt mean that his every action isnt gonna still be motivated by the thought of her. Fuck yeah we're gonna take on society. Fuck yeah were gonna make a shit ton of money doing it [they blow up a year later]

Post Credits Audio: man i think it fucking speaks for itself. bb gets infront of his men and is like fuck it we have no nation no ideology nothing. endless war for endless war's sake!

Big Boss: We will forsake our countries. We will leave our motherlands behind us and become one with this earth. We have no nation, no philosophy, no ideology. We go where we're needed, fighting, not for government, but for ourselves. We need no reason to fight. We fight because we are needed. We will be the deterrent for those with no other recourse. We are soldiers without borders, our purpose defined by the era we live in. We will sometimes have to sell ourselves and services. If the times demand it, we'll be revolutionaries, criminals, terrorists. And yes, we may all be headed straight to hell. But what better place for us than this? It's our only home. Our heaven and our hell. This is Outer Heaven.

ah outer heaven. I will get into you more during the msx games.

and then. after all of this. If one chooses to go for the metal gear solid secret gay sex ending, infront of you is a shitton of grinding to get Good Missiles so you can beat not only the Hard versions of all the metal gear fights but the Hard Hard versions of them as well. You will also need to go on a journey of Hard Versions of the Vehicle Fights to unlock the only side mission that reliably gives you Good R&D Soldiers so you can Unlock those missiles because otherwise R&D is just gonna suck too much shit to get the missiles and your shitty oil rig in the middle of the ocean can only hold so many people (350! to be exact) but through grit and determination you will be rewarded. with the ability to meow at kazuhira miller and then fuck in a box. what a game.

this took me. Months to write wow and i will fully admit. Partially due to the fact i was putting off writing the paz section. I have my critiques of the games but none of them make me this activally uncomfortable as that one god.

None of the further summaries will be this long by the way. Part of this is because peacewalker IS my favorite I did wanna get into a lot of it (and even then I still dont think i gave strangelove enough love!) But also. mgs1/2 are shorter games, the msx games are tiny compared to everything else, i dont like 4 so ill be short lol and ironically, V, while def a longer and bigger game, is less dense then pw so ill be taking more of a fly over approach as oppose to the play by play

ashen. ashen i hope you know. i really want to know metal gear lore and the story please if youre ever bored and wanna talk about it talk at me about it !!!!!!!!!

HEHEHE >:3c i was gonna ask if u wanted like a specific game or in an specific order (game vs timeline) but i decided im just gonna talk at nasuem. for fun.

future ashen voice this ended up being long as shit. a read more. for ur sake

ANYWAYSSSS metal gear is about snake. which snake? fuck you that one but specifically these two

The metal gear games can basically bit split into the Solid Snake Games [MGS1/2/4] and the Big Boss (Naked Snake) Games [MGS3/PW/V]

The timeline for the games go

MGS3 -> ***MGS:Peacewalker -> MGSV* -> MG1/MG2SS** -> MGS1 -> MGS2 -> MGS4 -> MGRR

*(which is 2 games in 1 but not actually? konami wanted a game released in 2014 so they took one of the missions from V and called it ground zero. and then the rest is called the phantom pain. tpp. the peepee)

** these are msx2 games which was a home computer back in the 80s it was basically slightly more powerful then a NES. its very funny its such a. interesting part of the timeline and they never remade them so theyre just 35 year old games that are like the biggest twist is that big boss. is a bitch !

*** Metal Gear Solid: Portable Ops is here but its not mainline saga. Metal Gear Rising Revengence is also not mainline saga but people have heard of it so it gets a mention. its the one with the brazillian guy sammy.

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our timeline begins in the humble year 1964. the cold war is cold-ing and we meet our protagonist for the game john metal gear jumping out of a plane and into Russia to get some scientist past the iron curtain and into the states bc he decided he fucking hates developing nukes. Our cast for this game includes [Naked] Snake. The guy who will become, by the time of metal gear 2, the guy running the War Orphan Economy. they call him naked bc zero is mean and also bc they didnt give him shit in way of supplies

Zero. Also known as David Oh but who gives a shiiit. Hes your main point of contact for mission information he will tell you your current objective he'll tell you where to go what to do etc etc.

Para-Medic. She is here to tell you fun facts about the food you pick up, she is the one you call to save the game (in which she will then tell you about the movie ^-^) and she helps you when it comes to tending to wounds but i think that only comes up twice

The Boss. The most important character in the series given the impact she has on others, everyone whos met her talk about her in the highest regard and after this game Snake and Zero (and others) will tear the world apart for her.

Sigint. He's your main contact for weapons and equipment in this game. He and Para medic might end up being the character you talk the least to if you dont go out of your way to but honestly i really like their banter :]

EVA. Shes your intel on the inside for being the only other mother fucker on your side* thats actually here. in the russian jungle. Shes also propped as the love interest but snake and her at best have a one night stand and then. well you can argue they stayed friends. I do. i like that they dont get together it goes with the side thread that like. sometimes meaningful relationships cant be described as romantic or platonic WHATEVER!!!! next guy

Ocelot. fuck ass. bitch. he meows. he gets his ass kicked by snake and watches him hit his famous "i shit my pants" stance and then is just. [textually. stated in game] obsessed with him. for the next 50 years. and makes him everyone elses problem. my beloved mutuals could give u a more sincere read on ocelot i just. hes funny to me check this shit out

he does that for like 2 minutes. and for what. fuck him

Volgin. this guy is terrible he stinks which is great for a villian but hes fucking terrible. he also grabs snakes dick. he nuked a science facility hes trying to start mass produce the shagohod which is basically the precursor to metal gears. the metal gears are the nuke launching metal dinosaur

*theres some double tripple agent bullshit but. shes on your side like 90% theres like some side thing she crosses on you but snake i dont think gave a shit

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SO SO SOSO SO. game starts out snake jumps out of plane into russia etc etc etc. This is called the Virtuous Mission. His Radio team consist of Zero, The Boss, and Para-medic. And this is the first time hes talked to the boss in like. 5 years? and she is like. the most important person to him shes like basically raised him since he was 15 he is often described as 'her most beloved disciple" anyways snakes like why did you leave >;| and the boss is like snake what is loyalty. who do you answer to? the goverment? the goverment changes who are you loyal to. for no reason. btw u dont need me anymore ive taught you everything now go forth and go save that russian scientist guy. so you go and pick up sokolov and then ocelot shows up and shoots the shit out of everyone and then snake shoots the shit outta ocelot and his boys but he doesnt kill ocelot becauses hes a fuck ass 20 something and snakes like ahh hes a fuck ass 20 something i cant kill him.

so he and the russian scientist walk towards the pickup point and the boss is like hi snake :> and snakes like shouldnt you be in a submarine ? and then the boss is like send the bees. Snake and Sokolov (Scientist guy) get swarmed with bees, sokolov gets yoinked by The Cobra Unit which is just. the boss squad for the game they have silly powers and theyre the boss's group from WW2 and the boss is like hey snake. im defecting to russia and volgins like hiiii we should kill the fuck outta this guy and snake hits his famous i shit my pants pose

and then the boss breaks his arm and throws him off the bridge* and then snake washes up on shore and calls in to zero and paramedic and is like hey chat. all my bones hurt so then the boss and volgin fly off in their helicopter and volgins like thank you The Boss for these davey crockets (which are nuclear warheads u can launch by hand) im gonna use them :> and ocelot (whos there) is like you cant just nuke the shit outta people????? and volgins like i can do whatever the fuck i want the blames gonna be put on the american who just defected and snakes like. hey zero i think something down the road got nuked to shit. the send snake a balloon and thats the end of the virtuous mission

*the boss has been wearing a bandana, and when snake gets thrown off he grabs at it and then from this point on untiiiilll. end of peacewalker he is seen wearing this bandana. idk if its the same one solid snake wears it might be im no bandana doctor

---

One week later, snakes in the hospital healing up from getting his bones broken and zero is like hey. theyre sending you back to russia. to kill the fuck outta the boss bc yknow that building that got nuked? well it was an american nuke on russian soil and if we cant prove that the boss was rouge this cold war is gonna go hot and theyre gonna kill the fuck out of us. So begins Operation Snake Eater, called that because the objective is to take out The Boss, Leader of the cobra unit (though the cobras will also die bc they are loyal to da boss L)

To begin snake has to meet up with his guy on the inside ADAM at the same shack sokolov was rescued from. On his way there he meets up with the boss on her horse and shes like snake. Go Home. horse stomps on his hand she breaks his gun. L. Snake heads to the shack. When snake arrives he is not greeted by ADAM however but by the motorcycle riding EVA who gets him supplies including a disguise for getting to the research facility sokolov is chilling at and a gun and shes like youuu should fucking sleep its like midnight and snakes like >:| fine. and he does. and when he wakes up in the morning theyre surrounded by the ocelot unit that snake has to take out and Ocelot, the main guy, has eva held at gunpoint and is like SNAKE. YOU. LOOK I GOT A REVOLVER LIKE YOU MENTIONED. YOURE GONNA HIT TTHE CLASSIC "i shit my pants pose" SO I CAN DEFEAT YOU FOR REAL and snakes like ok buddy & snake and eva 1-2 combo him, eva does a wheelie off his face, and they head towards the research sokolov is behind held at.

on the way there snake meets alligators and you can grab the alligator cap and some leeches and then you get to a ravine and oh fuck its ocelot again. that gif earlier? this is when he does it Snake and Ocelot have a good ol duel before they are RUDELY. interrupted by a shit ton of bees in which they are both. terrible at dealing with? snake tries to cut them with his knife and ocelot spins his guns at them and to avoid the bees snake jumps into the ravine at the end of which is our first cobra fight with

THE PAIN - each cobra brings an emotion into battle. The unit includes, The Pain, The Fear, The End, The Fury, The Joy, and The Sorrow. you fight each of them in this game. The way the Pain's fight works is that he has a shit ton of bees and you have the power of water. he uses his bees as a shield, fake clones, bullets and you can go. under water to not get stung. you defeat him he explodes yay

and off to the research facilityyyyyy. on the way you see The Boss and Volgin and Sokolov and Ocelot chit chatting and if u have a sniper rifle you can kill The End here but theyre just giving exposition about this girl tatyana and how sad it is that the pain died. off to the research facilittyyyyyyy

sokolov isnt there. some other guy is i think his name is granin? he has nice shoes and he was the guy who design shagohod and hes druunk and hes like shits fucked. heres a key card so u can go to grazny grod which is where theyre keeping sokolov and also shagohod and snakes like thanks. nice shoes. and heads out to encounter the secound cobra fight with...

THE FEAR - this guys a BITCH to do when youre doing a no kill run bc the way to take down foes non lethally is to take out their stamina and he will recharge back to full once hes hit half. his fight is him chilling. invisible in the trees until he gets hungry enough to come on the ground and start eating. i found when going non lethally just handing him a bunch of poison frogs works really well. you defeat him he explodes with a shit ton of arrows cause he used a crossbow and off you gooo.

Eva calls in and goes wdym he gave you that key card theres. mountain there. ill meet you there get you supplies. snake continues on towards their meeting location when he encounters....

THE END - honestly metal gear, aside from sniper wolf in mgs1, has reallly fun sniper fights in this youre basically hunting him down and augh its good. you can also put the game down for an irl 5 days and he will die of old age cause hes old as shit. he also has a parrot that u can eat after the fight but like. bro? dont? anyways you defeat him he explodes and then snake continues on in which he encounters. the ladder

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ANYWAYS you make it past the ladder and my least favorite sneaking section of the game and then you meet up with eva and shes got you some food and a way into grozny grad BUT !! she also is trying too yknow. seduce snake shes very upfront about this tbh shes like most of my missions is to fall in love w/ who the mission says anyways snake got any deets about da boss while shes just wearing her underwear and snakes like :| yknow eva. im not feeling the whole vibe your bringing to the conversation but i will talk about the boss cause this whole things got me conflicted why would she do that to me :| and evas like oh were u lovers and snakes like some things cant be explained w/ the lovers friends dichotomy but she was like. stupidly important to me and evas like damn. i need to get going ocelots getitng suspicious of me and she heads back to gronzy grad on her motorcycle and doesnt bring us we need to go. a different way through the sewers where we have our next cobra fight with...

THE FURY - this guy is decked out like an astronaut with a flame thrower and my favorite vocal performance AND THE FIGHT IS ANNOYING AS HELL I DONT LIKE ITTT HES A BITCH whateverr u defeat him he explodes and youre in gronzy grad

Once in grazny grad snakes next objective is to get into the weapons lab. find raikovich and impersonate him and meet of with sokolov. Raikovish isss. raiden mgs2 hes very clearly made to look like him raikovich vaugely sounds like if you took raiden and tried to make it sound more russian, they made him a little bitch to reflect the fact that gamers of 2002 did nootttt like raiden bc he was a little bitch with hips you could make out as oppose to solid square. I like raiden. anyways. you locate raikovich, knock him out drag him to a locker room and steal his close and now youre raikovich so now you can just walk around without anyone instantly smiting you.

you walk into the room where sokolov is being held and there you find him getting interrogated by tatyana (who is EVA. btw. idk how much of a twist this was suppose to be bc on one hand of course but on the other aaaa it was a ps2 game i just went like waow. the third blond blue eyed women in this game bc thats just what metal gear does theres a lot of blond bitches ANYWAYS) tatyana leaves you talk to sokolov hes like we gotta blow of shagohod and snakes like im getting you outta here. this time. for sure. surely nothing bad will happen and volgin walks in and was like raikovich. i was waiting for u in my room what the hell man and snake. cant say anything he doesnt sound raikovich at all so he just stands at attention and then volgin grabs his dick. Volgin's then like hah. an imposter. and then is about to beat the shit outta him and then the boss walks in and beats the shit outta snake and then volgin beats the shit outta him to unconsciousness.

snake wakes up with a bag over his head and his arms tied up above his head for beat-the-shit-outta-him 2: electric boogaloo. Ocelot, The Boss, and tatyana eventually are watching. its an interrogation scene theyre "trying" to get information out of him but we're shown earlier that volgin is very good at the beating the shit outta someone part and very bad at the getting information part. Granin (nice shoes) guy died. very sad. ANYWAYS. volgins like i hate this cia dog dipshit are you here for the philosophers legacy and snakes like ? cause he doesnt know shit about that and volgins like the philosophers legacy. yknow. the big pile of money that The Philosophers, a group that worked behind the scenes to pull the strings on events around the world that eventually broke into the US, Russian, and China branch after the cold war started? and snake looks at him like he just got the shit beat outta him.

Tatyana is like this is fucked up and The Boss is like your ass at this and Ocelot is like tatyana can u stop wearing that perfume (this haas been mentioned everytime their on screen together I just Forgot to mention it) and volgins like ok ignoring tatyana and ocelot. Da Boss. why dont youuuuu prove your loyalty and stab both of this dipshits eyes out and the boss is like 🧍‍♂️ yeah ok hand me that knife and then we get a scene of snake looking at the boss sad puppy style while theres a blade inches from his eyes and tatyana is like this is FUUCKKED and grabs attt. volgin or the boss i forget its been a hot minute. it goes to chaos a little bit but the scene ends with Ocelot shooting out Snakes (his right, looking at him the one on the left) eye and at long last. now people who havent played the games have their shorthand for which one is big boss and which one is solid snake (the eye patch. tho we still gotta wait a minute for him to get one theyre not just gonna. give him one yet they still gotta beat the shit outta him more). eventually volgins like thats IT. we're done for now send him to the cell and tatayana (EVA) whispers to snake when she has a moment hey i got an escape route for u w/ supplies all you need to do is to get outta the cell.

So now snake is in gay baby jail. theres a couple ways to get out one is that if you went in 1st person view mode earlier you would have saw a Ghost (whos shown up a couple times, uh mostly when the boss is like Are you there The Sorrow? the ghost is the Sorrow) and the ghost wouldve held up a sign that had a radio frequency if you call it it opens the door. you can leave when the guard uses the bathroom sounds like dinner didnt agree with him. you can also make friends with the guard by giving him food hes like waow :3 my names johnny my dads name was johnny my sons name is johnny and snakes like thats crazy can you open the door and hes like yeah and you scram presumably after putting him to sleep. ANYWAYS you run off to the sewers and eva is like bad news they got dogs you gotta get going and snakes running through this sewer getting chased by dogs n guys until he gets to the end and oh fuck a cliff drop into the river and he looks behind him and FUCK ITS OCELOT AGAIN goddamit hes like SNAKE. LETS DUEL AGAIN and snakes like fuck it T-poses and falls into the river jesus style where because he was barely hanging on takes him too the next boss fight with…

THE SORROW. yeah. the ghost from earlier. snake is in a realm between life and death. The fight takes place in a monochrome version of an earlier section where you are walking through waist through water. the sorrow is like its fucked up to kill people snake. heres everyone you killed and then you have to walk through this river past the ghost of everyone youve killed up until that point. no kill runs still have a couple ocelot unit members bc snake kills them in a cutscene. and once you wade past all of them you see a body floating in the water. The sorrows body. touching it kills you instantly and to progress you need to take a revival pill you have earlier bc u also have a death pill you can use whatveer but it wasnt important.

I will mention it here. This jungle is where the sorrow died years earlier. He and the Boss were put in a situation where one of them had to kill the other and they decided the sorrow will die and the boss will live. which is great for the sorrow honestly he already had ghost powers im. being a cryptid is his calling truly.

Snake wakes up under water and starts swimming upwards for air. he gets ashore and EVA's like heres the meet up spot and he heads over there where he gets his gear back and a nice roasted snake for the time being. They Chill before Eva is like OK!! i got some C3 youre gonna head back and blow the fuck outta the shagohod i need to get back before ocelot gets sus and snakes like o7 ok AND WE HEAD BACK. TO GRANZY GROD. to BLOW UP. THE SHAGOHOD. we set up a bunch of c3 which was c4 but a little lamer but they didnt know that at the time but before the explosives can go off volgins like HIIII and hes got tatyana (EVA) corned because they found out about the spy shit. Remember how ocelot kept getting annoyed by her perfume? he finally placed the smell it was the smell of gasoline from her motorcycle and evas like your a bitch ass motherfucker and volgins like lol. lmao. strikes you with lightning. and the boss is like hey. let me finish her off and volgins like ok :thumbs_up: and turns his attention to snake where the 1v1 in a pit. Ocelots miffed because HEEE wanted to 1v1 snake so he just watches from above. and throws items for snake which pisses off volgin oh yeah next boss fight

Volgin - he has electric powers he can zap the shit outta you so for the most part you cant really use ru guns bc theyre metal you gotta use C! Q! C! close quaters combat a fighting form in universe created by The Boss and Snake. you have. 10? maybe minutes to defeat volgin b4 everything blows up. at some point phase 2 beings where volgin is like OCELOT. KILL HIS ASS> and ocelots like fuck you. does his gay little hand gesture and leaves cause he aint getting blwon the fuck up.

you finish up the volgin fight and get the hell outta dodge where you see Eva outside on her bike and snake is like ? i thought da boss killed you and evas like noooo she wanted me to tell u that we gotta go meet her at the lake where im keeping a plane and snakes like awesome ok. and then the c3 goes off and theyre like yay and then the shagohod starts coming for them and theyre like D: and volgins like IM COMING FOR YOUR ASS and ocelot who hates being left out also gets on his own motorcycle and also starts chasing after eva and snake hijinks ensue ocelot gets knocked off his bike early you blow up a bridge trying to take out the shogod it works for most of it but theres still the front half you 2v1 it in some field you kill the fuck outta volgin god strikes him with lightning. snake and eva are like x_^ YAY ^_^

then all of volgins men keeps chasing them to kill em and theyre like ah fuck. eva's like snake ill drive u shoot the fuck outta them and so u go through this driving section and then you get out nice n good and then eva n snake notice the gas tank got shot and while theyre looking at that they drive into a tree and off a cliff and eva gets like. stabbed all the way through her abdomin with a stick and shes like aug i cant go on and snakes like you have to. i cant fly a plane. i need u and shes like well when u put it like that so u get eva off the stick and then perform surgery with snakes first aid kit which includes. ointment. bandages. a cigar? SHES PATCHED UP. she aint shmooving tho so we have some slower paced stealth before we get to the lake! yay! snakes like i need. to go talk to the boss and evas like ok. ill get the plane started so snake walks over to the flower field the boss is in and then we have our final boss fight with…

THE BOSS - also known as The Joy.

Life's end... Isn't it beautiful? It's almost tragic. When life ends, it gives off a final lingering aroma. Light is but a farewell gift from the darkness to those on their way to die. I've been waiting, Snake, for a long time. Waiting for your birth, your growth, and the finality of today.

Joy recounts to snake parts of her life. How she went to space and saw the world whole. with no division no borders no west vs east capitalism vs communism us vs russia. how she went to fucking dday and gave birth on the field (??!) and how her kid n womb were taken by the powers that be. uh in this case those powers are the Philosophers. She talks about how this. shouldnt be happening. They shouldnt be going face to face. How the winds chance and how someone you fought along one day will be ur enemy the next. iiii have opinionsss but those are stored in the boss ppt uh. ask if you want those send an ask im not going tooo incredibly deep here bc im just writing this all off the top of my head but she thanks snake for letting her talk about her self, calls in a bomber jet, and says snake. we have 10 minutes before everything gets blown to shit. lets have the best fight of our lives.

I have found that this fight is far easier when using a non lethal method and also this is like the only part of the game that lags the flower field has hands. The games theme snake eater plays for the second half of the fight and you can find 3 snakes around named Solid Liquid and Solidus. buuut im stalling. At the end of the fight The boss hands snake her half of the philosophers legacy that she stole from volgin. She tells him that he is a wonderful guy. That their can only be One Boss. and One Snake. the camera pans out and this is when you the player are suppose to pull the trigger. if you wait long enough the game will do it for you but this is where Joy dies.

the while flower field turns red and snake heads towards the plane with a petal he took with him that as they take of get stolen by the wind. as the gain win who shows up but MOTHERFUCKING OCELOT BABYYY HE WANTS THAT 1 ON 1 HE HAS SOME LIKE HOVER CRAFT BULLSHIT THATS SHOWN UP A COUPLE TIME AND HES LIKE FUCK YOU SNAKEE AND THEY HAVE A 1-1 IN THE BACK OF THE PLANE AND THEN OCELOTS LIKE WAIT wwai twaitwait. russian roulette my friend here here. 1 bullet. 2 guns. he starts juggling them u take them and theres like a lot of outcomes here but its either snake gets it and shoots past him and either no bullet or its a blank or ocelot shots him and its no bullet or blank and hes like. "im not an ocelot and ur not a snake what ur name" to which snake responds john metal gear. thanks john metal gear. ocelot jumps out of the plane and we're off. out of russia. thank god.

They arrive back to the states Snake and Eva have a night to themselves :smirk: and then snake wakes up alone with a message from eva thats like hey snake. i took the philosophers legacy. i wouldve killed you too but god. The Boss is really based wow. Her ORIGINAL Mission was just to get the philosophers legacy off of volgin but the dipshit nuked a building so to prevent the cold war from going hot she had to die but she couldnt kill herself cause the states needed to prove their innocence so they made YOU do it and while this tape is playing we see snake getting his medals and honors for operation snake eater and. the president whats his fuck Lindon B Johnson i think is like. youve surpassed even the boss. we give you the title big boss. people go shake snakes hand and he just fucking leaves and goes to an unmarked* grave and just cries bc da boss is dead. *its like a MIA gravestone i think. yknow. the gravestone "here lies a hero" but theres no name.

AND THATS METAL GEAR SOLID 3. Ill be fucking honest i didnt expect this to be as long as it is holy shit. and mgs3 isnt even my favorite game i just honestly sincerely just recounted the events to you off the top of my head bwhadwaiwfjiwf. ill do the other games but later hehe

#ashen.rambles #i uh. checked how long peacewalkers game script on game faqs is. its around 10k. now granted that doesnt cover the briefing tapes which is #solid chunk and i also went over PO and les enfants a bit but uh yeah. this is me talking to you about a game i like and youll just need to #accept that #the quinton reviews icarly mini series of summaries #again as i mentioned at the end this did take me months to write and i think how i read some of pw plot points have shifted a bit #and i dont expound alot on everything so if you want my further thoughts on something or clarification feel free to send an ask #or just to plain challenge me on something. but i think this is like mostly my thoughts on it #and like honestly I dont think my analysis on peewalker will be complete until i do further background research on some of the events #like the sandinistas and the cold war impact on south america. and until i watch dr strangelove #but i do love talkin about this game #I do wish i got into Les Enfants more but Ill do that in V its. okay well its relevant to PO PW and V but i didnt do it here very well!#I think the points i want to add tie in better with V tho with venom and the coma and eli okay. done yapping in the tags

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carionto · 4 months ago

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The terrifying sound of silence

"Where is the Human?"

A question that incites dread across the Galaxy. And no greater when the Human in question is an engineer.

For weeks after her arrival aboard the Coalition joint exploration vessel Ulmanar's Resilience, the Human Jenna had been pestering everyone about the technical specifications, tolerances, build schematics, design philosophy, power outputs, and countless other microscopic details.

At first everything seemed normal, Humans are known to be curios, especially the technically minded ones, and her job would entail managing parts of the vessel's systems, so everyone was as helpful as they could.

Then Jenna started tinkering.

'Optimizing' is how she described it.

Admittedly, most of her modifications resulted in marginal improvements to energy distribution and mechanical motion efficiency. Although the fact the power reactors started to make audible noise was... unusual, but the readings said everything was fine, and the fact a day passed without explosions put everyone at ease - this was partly why a Human engineer was brought along in the first place.

During a short stop at a supply station before our first descent onto an uncharted planet, Jenna was the first to rush off with several cargo drones in the direction of the shipyard district. She was the last to return mere minutes before the scheduled departure, all covered in dust and oil, and the drones straining under the weight of everything she had procured.

"Don't worry, it's gonna be awesome." she declared.

It had been a while since our training and none of us had encountered other Humans in the meantime, so all of us had forgotten to immediately be alarmed by those words and question everything she was doing.

The following weeks of transit to our destination were marked by a severe lack of Jenna interactions or even sightings. The shuttle bay was a mess of disassembled craft, loose parts flung about, and sparks and rattling noises coming from the bowels of whatever was going on.

Unbeknownst to us, for the idea itself was ludicrous, Jenna was only within the vessel half of the time during this period. The other half she was in her spacesuit tinkering with the exterior of the vessel. Laser cutters and cold welding, not to mention the vacuum of space, make for a very silent work environment.

Perhaps it was instinct for most of us to avoid the confusing actions of a predator species descendant, as once we arrived to the designated planet, we learned we only had two surface shuttles left. Out of sixteen.

"This baby can land now!" Jenna happily said.

Confused beyond measure, we asked: "What do you mean 'this baby?"

"The ship, you know, Ulmanar's Resilience. We can land the whole thing now instead of doing this boring shuttling down thing. Plus the terraforming bot wouldn't fit in a shuttle anyway."

"The what?" our confusion continued.

"Yeah, we're gonna terraform this planet, right? That's what I got from the briefing back before joining you guys." she explained with innocence in her eyes.

There must have been some miscommunication, but the work had been done, and as far as our own technicians (who were scolded harshly for not keeping track of such grand changes to the entire vessel) did confirm that, as far as their understanding of mechanics and physics went, Ulmanar's Resilience can now indeed endure descent and commence takeoff from up to a 6G world.

So I guess that's what we're doing now. Preliminary surveys from past unmanned missions had suggested this world was once in the past and potentially now habitable again, and we suppose the Humans had decided to just set that in motion before more detailed analysis had occurred.

"Oh yeah," Jenna interjected, "if it turns out this place is, like, super dangerous and a threat to the Galaxy if we accidentally wake something up, I modified one of the scanning dishes to be a deep drill laser. Two hours of firing it at the core of the planet and it'll go boom."

...

"The planet, not the laser dish. That will explode if left on for more than three hours."

...

#humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #humanity fuck yeah #carionto

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sunnwila · 2 months ago

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dimples

high school best friend! sam winchester x f! hunter! reader

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summary: sam winchester transferred to your high school in your junior year. he lasted all of five months there but in that time, you grew close enough for sleepovers. you reunite on the hunt years later... closer to his brother than he likes honestly. it's shocking that you can hunt for all of two minutes before he sees you take down a vamp.

warnings: some very mild angst, some fluff. jealous sammy and dimpled sammy. nerdy sammy. LOTS of back story i got carried away, sorry. some shit head big brother dean too. brief j*hn winchester mentions... idiots in love!

i love sam's dimples, what can i say.

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The first time you met Sam you were freshly seventeen in your junior year of high school. Sam was just a year below you, despite being seventeen himself (he was forced to stay back a year because of moving around so much. This severely irked him).

No one had the nerve to go up to the new kid, he was lanky and had a mean resting face that dared people to mess with him. You didn't have it either honestly, but luckily for you, you didn't need to because Sam had beat you to it.

"Is that Frankenstein?" he asked, pointing to the book in your hand. His locker was a couple across from yours, but the hallway was nearly empty. He shut his with a click before striding over to you with his head tilted in curiosity. You looked down to the book you had taken out, it was the assigned reading for your Honors Lit class, and you gripped it at the realization that he was talking to you.

"Uh. Yes," you stumbled over your words which made him quirk a half smile, his dimple peeking out at you. Suddenly the giant kid with a size too small shirt and shaggy brown hair seemed completely harmless. You smiled back and from that moment on you'd been inseparable.

Dean had teased Sam endlessly about his "girlfriend" when he would pick him up from school and see you lingering by his side on the stairs.

"Girl and friend, Dean. She's my friend who happens to also be a girl," he would correct annoyed as he slid into the passenger seat, inconspicuously looking back out the window at you.

"Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night," he retorted with a chuckle and a glint in his eye.

Sam and you would pour over books, endlessly dissecting plot structure and sharing character analysis. He would geek out about whatever he was learning in history while you carefully listened and drew little cartoons of him while he babbled.

(His face would light up when he saw these drawings of himself, or sometimes it would be a panel of cartoon-him and cartoon-you doing something silly. Every time, he'd insist you sign them before carefully putting it in-between the pages in his book).

He'd purposely annoy you with arguments like who the best classic author was (he said Salinger, you said Steinbeck) and why Dally in the Outsiders was the best Greaser (you were quite fond of Ponyboy).

Sometimes you'd read in silence together, the white noise and the sound of his breathing enveloped you and you'd sometimes (a lot of times) get distracted peeking over your page to study his face and the way his brow furrowed when he concentrated.

Practically attached at the hip, you two would walk down the halls together, laughing about whatever stupid thing you could think of to get a peek at his dimples.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't harboring the teensiest crush on him.

What wasn't to love? His smile was the cutest. He was a full head taller than you, and then some. He loved to read all of the same books you did, and he was ever the gentleman, kind and reassuring. And he was funny! Most of the time you were in stitches when he would crack the rare joke (apart from his little sarcastic comments).

The only problem was that you didn't know a thing about him. All you knew was that he moved around a lot and had a brother. There was never a mention of his mother or father. The one time he had mentioned John was brief, and it was that he was kind of a hard ass because he was a Marine. The subject was quickly dropped in favor of Napolean and Napoleonic code, something he started reading about when he got bored in Pre-Calc the week prior.

You'd never gone to his house, but he would often come to yours, first to study, then to watch movies, then for dinner. Eventually he was spending weekends at your house. Your mother thought the two of you were dating. You had to shush her anytime she thought to bring it up with a sly smile at dinner. Sam wasn't stupid, he knew, but politely continued to eat with a faint blush on his cheeks, pretending he hadn't heard.

It irked you that you two could share so much of your time with each other, but you still knew so little about him. He knew everything there was to know about you. You'd only learned the little things, his favorite color (orange, the burnt siena kind), his favorite book (The Catcher in the Rye), how he liked his eggs in the morning (over medium, not too runny, but enough that he could dip his toast in it), and his favorite band (Alice in Chains). You took what you could get, and you never let it show, but it disappointed you that he didn't trust you to tell you. You were so vulnerable with him, did he think that you wouldn't understand?

One Friday he didn't come to school. You texted him a quick where r u??? before going into your shared chemistry class. You didn't hear from him the whole day and didn't see him again until that Tuesday. Worried sick, you pushed him for answers, especially for the black eye he was sporting. He dodged your questions and gave halfhearted attempts to change the subject until eventually he shut you out. He moved out of town a day later with no explanation. He had sent a goodbye text, but that was the last you heard from him.

For the next few years, you thought about Sam. All you'd had left of him was his Radiohead CD and an arbitrary green t shirt. You'd texted and texted but got no response.

When you'd graduated top of your class, you wished he was there. When you'd had no prom date, you wished he was there. When you were applying to schools you wished he was there.

When your mom got killed by a rugaru in your second semester of your freshman year of college, you'd wished he was there.

And like any hunter worth their salt, you dropped everything and began hunting the thing that killed her.

For a while you were chasing your own tail in circles. You came across other small hunters, but it wasn't until you'd met Bobby that you were finally able to track the thing down. All those years of your mom insisting on kick boxing and Jiu Jitsu classes were starting to make sense.

She'd been a retired hunter and a close friend of Bobby's. He told you that your father had been killed by a shifter a month before you were born, leaving your mother in ruins. Instead of aiming for revenge, she swore it off to keep you safe.

Fat load of good that did you.

Rugaru dead, you found yourself spending a lot of time with Bobby. You didn't go back to school, but you did start carrying your own weight around the scrapyard and helping with the hunter information hub.

That's how you met John Winchester. And evidently Dean.

When you first met them, you couldn't believe it. Were these the infamous Marine father and annoying brother Sam hardly spoke about back then? You couldn't believe it. You obviously hadn't known before that Sam's family were hunters, but things began shifting into place in your mind when you put two and two together.

He'd clam up when the subject of college was brought up, all the weekends he'd spend at your house, avoiding questions from your mother about where his family was and if he'd told them he was staying over. All the ominous talk about not wanting to go into the family business. Your heart swelled at the thought of seeing him again, only to deflate when Bobby had to explain that Sam wasn't in the life anymore. It was then you realized that all the time Sam spent with you, was to escape.

Pieces of you were glad Sam got out. His reluctance to mention his dad then made sense. But what stood out in your mind most often was his fiery blush when you told him that with the way he talked himself out of trouble all the time, he'd make a decent lawyer

Even three years later, you still thought about him. You missed him.

So you got to know the parts of Sam he hadn't shown you before.

Dean took to you almost immediately. He remembered you from that beat-down-town years ago and enjoyed annoying you just as much as his brother once had. When you got on your feet again and started hunting, you'd tagged along with John and Dean, eager to get out. When John got sick of lugging you around, calling you dead weight (not without a sneer and a scoff of disbelief from you) he sent you and Dean to small-fry jobs.

A month or two in, Dean and you found a rhythm. Find the monster of the week, do your homework, scramble to kill the thing, celebrate with a few beers and a night at a dive.

You hardly brought up Sam. It was a touchy subject. From the tidbits you'd gathered on drunk sappy nights with Dean, Sam had left without looking back. He'd run off to college and was determined to leave this life and his brother behind. Dean hadn't spoken to him in years. You weren't sure if you should tell him that it didn't sound like Sam to leave with no contact, but then again, he had done the same thing to you. You'd only been friends for five short months; you had no idea who he could've grown up to be.

John brought him up when he needed to point out how much better Sam was at research then you were, or really anything you did-- Sam was better. The pride in his voice mixed with the disappointed look in his eye encouraged you to keep your mouth shut. Usually, you'd just sit there and fume, you hadn't known the man long enough to spit something back, sufficing with muttered fuck you-s under your breath. You hadn't wanted to upset Dean, you knew how highly he thought of his father and had decided it wasn't worth it.

Fire would rise in your chest when you saw the pained look on Dean's face anytime his dad talked about Sam. In the months you'd gotten to know him, you became fiercely protective (something that made Dean wildly conflicted, he was the big brother/mama bear... having someone else dote on him was foreign, but strangely not unwelcome).

Usually, when John started on a tangent, you just removed yourself and lugged Dean with you. He kept the shouting up as you two stalked off to the Impala, or the Motel, or wherever he wasn't. It was around those times where he would send you two off on your own.

That's how you'd found yourselves in the Impala on the way back from a hunt in Raleigh. It took a week and a half to find a haunted doll hiding in someone's attic, but you'd managed to salt and burn it without much damage. Two years of hunting with Dean put you at a comfortable ease during a hunt and the two of you pretty much knew the ins and outs of each other, both as hunters and as friends.

On the way out of North Carolina, Dean decided to call John, to check in and see how his hunt in California was going. Fourteen missed calls later, Dean was worried. Bobby hadn't heard from him, and John wasn't necessarily a friendly hunter, so none of Bobby's hunter friends had seen or heard anything either.

The car was silent while he figured out what to do in his head. His resolve never faltered, his gaze trained on the road ahead.

"I think I should get Sam," he said.

"What?" The idea of seeing Sam for the first time in over five years almost made your heart stop. But you didn't want to be selfish. it wasn't fair to bring him back because of a silly schoolgirl crush.

"Our dad's missing, Sam deserves to know," he had replied, knuckles tightening on the wheel.

"Dean, are you sure we should even bring him back in?" As much as you missed Sam, you respected him more.

"Our Dad is missing," he said with a tone of finality that shut you up. You'd have plenty of time to argue with him later, it wasn't worth it right now.

"I'll drop you off at Bobby's," he added.

"What?" you repeated, starting the fight you'd planned for later. There was no way you were sitting this out, you'd told him as much, but he wouldn't have anything of it. This was something he felt he didn't need to drag you into. You didn't even like his dad anyways, he had said. Which was true but hearing him say it felt like a slap in the face, as if you weren't allowed to want to help Dean, someone who had become family.

The car ride was silent after your argument. You'd gotten out of the Impala without a word, lingering to see if he might say something. When nothing followed, you stood there like an idiot for another second before a simple "Goodluck" fell from your mouth and you shut the passenger door on him. You'd turned and trudged into the ranch ahead, too stubborn to actually give a proper goodbye.

For days you wanted to cry. You hadn't heard anything from him, Bobby mentioned he had called when he got Sam, but nothing else. When you got over yourself, you realized that in Dean's stupid protective head he probably thought he was looking after you. Whatever he thought had made his dad disappear, he didn't want you to get hurt. That's what Bobby had said. You tried to not let it sting whenever you thought about him thinking you weren't capable or a good enough hunter.

A week passed when you heard about Jess. Still nothing from Dean or Sam. You hadn't known he was in a relationship, neither did Dean, by the way he spoke about him--at least, he had never mentioned anything. A twinge of regret pierced through your heart, and embarrassingly enough, disappointment. That stupid high school crush never really went away. But you'd only sort of gotten to know him, briefly, you had no claim on him.

You didn't call Dean to check on them. You didn't want to press, you were sure Sam didn't need that right now.

Another week passed with nothing from them, and you quickly got sick of sitting around all day and decided to go back out and hunt. Overthinking your relationship with the both of them wasn't doing you any good. Bobby was worried for you, but you'd amassed quite the skill since your mother died, your fighting skills far passed anything Dean could muster, and your aim was getting better as time went on.

You took a car from the yard--something you'd been tinkering with for the time you'd spent there--and packed a bag. Then the gear. And after a nice roast dinner you'd made for Bobby and yourself, you hit the road, following a lead on a djinn down in Tennesse.

And just like that, you had spent a year hunting on your own. Not necessarily with the same efficiency that you achieved when you were hunting with Dean, but you handled your own well enough. Hunts took a little longer, but then again, you were finally on your own, no crutch to fall back on. It was relieving as much as it was lonely. You missed sharing breakfast or lunch or dinner with Dean at a diner, laughing when he stuffed his face.

And the money thing was kinda hard. Dean handled the fake credit cards. You'd learned how to hustle pool and so instead of committing credit card fraud, you used good old-fashioned misogyny to win a couple hundred bucks from loser guys at bars.

It was one of these nights that you found yourself at the edge of a pool table, hustling a group of guys that had a little more to drink then they probably should've.

Five of them crowded around the other side of the table, four cheering on the fifth who was currently aiming for a striped ball in the corner pocket. You'd beat two of them already, but somehow the others couldn't believe that you, a woman, could not beat them. Let alone have the smarts to hustle them out of their money. It must be beginner's luck they chortled amongst each other.

The laughing stopped when you beat the fourth guy. And like clockwork, the fifth stood up to play. You had to roll your eyes. Did they even consider the fact that you were hustling them? You couldn't tell if they were more upset that they were losing their money or that it was a woman they were losing to.

Either way, pride got in their way. Another win, and you had over half a grand in your hand. You had to laugh.

"Good game, hon. You almost had me!" you shook your head in amusement.

"You bitch," the fifth man snarled. Two other men saddled up behind him, giving menacing stares.

They weren't so amused, apparently.

"Freaky, huh? I mean, are you sure you guys weren't going easy on me?" you couldn't help yourself as you pocketed the cash. You hoped the kitchen was still open, maybe you could get some mozzarella sticks to celebrate your win.

"You think you're funny?" One guy said.

"Oh no! A little girl like me? Funny? Can't be," you grinned. A small audience was forming as people began to take notice of the hostility radiating off of the men. You knew when to quit it, so you smiled extra sweet at them, an evil glint in your eye, before bending down to pick up your bag from the ground.

It was at this precise moment that a few things happened at once. First, the fifth guy (the ringleader if you will) stepped forward, no doubt, with the intent to scare you. You had anticipated this and popped up, ready to play dirty and kick his knees in, when another man from the audience stepped in with a deep "Hey!" You got a brief flash of leather, and, unable to stop what had already been put in motion, side swiped the fuck out of the man stepping up to your defense.

"Shit!" he cursed as he went down. Shocked and apologetic, you turned to help him up, barely catching a glimpse of your victim, when a heavy hand came crashing down on your shoulder and pulled you away roughly. Assuming it was one of the other pissed off guys, you turned and swung in the general direction of what you assumed to be your attacker's head.

A familiar "oof" came when you made contact with a cheekbone. Immediately your brows furrowed, your hand slackened and your heart dropped. It couldn't be.

Your mouth was too slow on the uptake and Dean beat you to it. Hauling himself up from the floor where you'd swiped him down and called your name in disbelief. Your eyes widened when you realized.

Your head whipped around to see Sam standing behind you holding his cheek, bewildered.

"Holy shit!" you looked between Dean and Sam, the angry men stood forgotten on the sidelines of the whole ordeal, unsure of what to do. You paid no mind as you looked back to Sam again, not convinced this wasn't a dream.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked as he pulled you in for a hug. You embraced him and shoved your face in his leather jacket.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" you quipped, slapping his shoulder.

"Getting attacked by you, even though I was about to defend your ass!"

"My ass doesn't need any defending, thank you," you smiled.

"Right. You had it handled," he rolled his eyes. You slapped his shoulder again.

"Yeah, I did. I'm a way better fighter than you," you shrugged.

"You are not."

"Bobby thinks so."

"What?" That got him. Before you could unleash your witty reply, Sam cleared his throat behind you, turning both yours and Dean's attention to him. He wouldn't look at you at first, just made big expectant eyes at Dean.

"What?" he said, clueless. Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning back to you with a soft smile on his face.

"Hi," he said, all sheepish.

"Hi!" You beamed and immediately pulled him in for a hug. He was at least three inches taller than the last time you'd hugged him. He smelled the same, though. Just the feeling of his heart beating against your cheek pulled you back to seventeen, pining after him and laughing in the echoing hallways.

"What are you-"

"Why are y-" you both cut each other off with an awkward chuckle as you pulled away.

"Sorry, you go," you smiled.

"No, no. You first," he gestured with his hand, eyebrows furrowing in curiosity, dimples peeking out in amazement.

"Uh, before you two start, can we sit? I need a beer," Dean chimed in with a grimace. You rolled your eyes, Sam mirroring your expression before turning to the nearest booth.

When you guys settled, Sam across from you and Dean on your right, you ask your question again, "Why are you guys here?"

"Hunt, duh," Dean replied, taking a sip from his beer. You saw Sam's eyes widen in annoyance in Dean's direction.

"Oh. Right. Sammy, she's a hunter now," he explained. Your head spun back to face Sam.

"Wait, you didn't know?"

"How was I supposed to know?" he replied, half joking, half butthurt at being left out.

"Well, I assumed your brother told you," you shrugged, looking to your right and fixing Dean with a look.

"Sorry, but he would've gotten all worried and distracted. You know how he is," he busied himself with a ring on his finger, avoiding eye contact.

"You're an idiot," you said before turning back to Sam with a smile.

"So you're a hunter..." he trailed off.

"Yeah, have been for about... four and a half years now?" you sighed.

"Wow. And that's how you know my brother," he said, eyeing Dean.

"Yeah. Went hunting with him and John a few times. Then with Dean for like, what? Six months?" you turned to ask.

"Eight," he replied.

"Eight months I guess," you said turning back to Sam. He had an unreadable look on his face. If you hadn't known any better, you'd say it looked like jealousy, but that couldn't be. He'd tensed up when you brought up John too, and by the clear lack of him around, you understood that they still hadn't found him. You didn't push the subject.

Sam's hands rested on the table in front of you, his fingers woven together and fidgeting. He didn't say anything for a while, just looked at you like you could disappear any moment. He seemed like he wanted to say something but refrained. Maybe for Dean's sake, maybe for his own. You wished he'd just say it.

After a moment he smiled, "Man, I can't believe it's you. I thought for sure you'd be a professor or something," he shook his head.

"A professor? Why?"

"Well, I was gonna say doctor, but you hated chemistry so much back then..." he trailed off. You laughed.

"Yeah, you're right," you wanted to reach out and touch his hand just to feel him. You still didn't believe he was right there in front of you, after all the years of wishing you could see him, hear his voice.

Dean spoke up then, "We're here about some disappearances."

"Me too. It's a vamp nest," you said without turning your head. You couldn't stop staring at Sam. He was looking down at his hands, so you drank him in without freaking him out. His hair had gotten longer; he kept his bangs though. The urge to trace the moles on his face made your fingers twitch and you had to squeeze them to remind yourself of where you were. Of who you were to him. His girlfriend had only died just last year.

"You're quick," Dean replied, "when'd you get here?"

"Mmmm, last Friday?"

"Huh," Sam chimed in, studying your face. Though he tried to mask his surprise at your efficiency in finding the monster in a short few days, his mouth gave it away, twitching in disbelief.

"Right, well, y'know where it is?" Dean sipped the last of his beer and motioned for another.

"Oh yeah, couple buildings down from here, was gonna head over after I gambled for my lunch money for tomorrow," you grinned. Sam laughed at this.

"Alright lemme finish this and let's go," Dean motioned.

"Are you hijacking my hunt?"

"You don't want help?" he tutted.

"Yeah, yeah," you swatted him away as he poked your arm. Sam watched this interaction closely, his jaw clenched. You only caught a glimpse of it before he steeled himself and his face went back to neutral.

Dean finished his beer in two big gulps and you and Sam followed him out and to your car.

"You fixed this thing up?" Dean gestured to your mustang.

"Mhmm, this is Cherry," you puffed up your chest in pride as the boys looked onto your cherry red muscle car.

"Creative," Sam quipped with a teasing smile. He peeked into the car, eager to see what you had in there. He wanted to take in as much about your new life as possible. He felt like he missed so much.

You popped your trunk, grabbing a machete and a book from your duffle.

"Hey, you still like this book?" you called out to Sam whose head was almost fully in your passenger side window. He shot himself up so fast, you were surprised he didn't hit his head. Sheepishly, he walked around to you where you held out your beaten copy of Frankenstein that the two of you had gushed over all those years ago. A laugh bubbled out of him, and you warmed at the sound.

"You still have this?" he reached out to take it from you, his fingers brushing yours, butterflies erupted in your stomach.

"Well, yeah. It's in your hand, isn't it?"

"Still a smartass then," he shook his head with a fond smile.

"Says you," you nudged his shoulder. Dean had wandered off to the Impala to grab their gear, so it was just the two of you alone. "You can have it," you said pushing the book closer to his chest. More fluttering in your stomach at the contact with his warm hands.

"No," he tried to argue but you shushed him.

"Seriously. I've read it so many times, I can recite whole pages, word for word." He laughed again at this, and you beamed.

"Fine. But I'm giving it back when I'm done."

"Sure, you are."

"I missed you," he said after a moment of silence. You looked up at him.

"I missed you too."

"I wanted to call so many times," he said.

"That's okay," you looked down and kicked at a pebble with the toe of your boot.

Both of you weren't sure what to say next. The Impala started with a roar in the distance, filling the silence between you two.

"I'm sorry about Jessica," you whispered. You didn't want to bring her up. You didn't know how Sam was doing; you hadn't ever talked about anything so vulnerable regarding his life with him before, but you needed him to know.

Before he could reply, Dean rolled up, window down and head sticking out his driver's side window.

"Alright, let's dust these fuckers, you comin'?"

"Right, yeah" you said, swinging the machete in your hand. Sam cleared his throat, eyeing your swinging before rounding the car and entering the passenger side. You sidled up to the trunk, tossing the weapon in with the others and swung around to the back, sat comfortably behind the brothers.

"How long you been huntin' again? Last I heard from Bobby you were hangin' around there," Dean asked as he sped off.

"Eh, year or so? I go back to Bobby's every coupla months though," you cracked your knuckles in the silence. Sam's head turned ever so slightly in your direction, you wouldn't have caught the motion if you weren't staring. He didn't say anything for the whole ride, but Dean did a whole lot of talking for the both of them, asking how you've been, commenting on the new machete, but never bringing up John.

When you got there, Dean assigned roles. You took the back entrance; he and Sam would take the front. You had a mean swing, and weren't worried, but Sam's eyebrows furrowed when Dean announced that you would be alone. He looked about to speak up, but you interrupted before he could say anything.

"I'm good. There's only like three of them in there, last I checked. I could do this alone if I wanted," you couldn't help the boast. Dean laughed and clapped his brother on the back.

"She ain't a little girl anymore," he strutted off (because yes Dean Winchester struts). Sam followed but not without a look of reluctance to you, "Be careful," he urged.

"I always am," you smiled before jogging to the back. You peered through the windows but saw nothing but shadows. It was pitch black out and there were no lights on inside. The back door opened without any force and you made your way inside, eyes scanning what looked to be the kitchen. You heard muffled footsteps to your right, but turned to see it was just Sam.

"Anything?"

"No, there's gotta be a basement," you replied. The two of you began searching for a door until you heard a grunt come from the room next to yours. There were a few more and what sounded like a punch landing. You and Sam ran to aid Dean in whatever he was dealing with when another vamp descended on you. You swung your machete around and nailed it in the arm. It hissed and swung its other arm at you, grabbing your shoulder.

In the mess of fighting, you caught a brief glance at Sam fighting his own vamp, it getting dangerously close to his neck at points.

You ripped from the vamp's grasp and kicked it down, knocking the wind out of it before swinging your machete around and slicing its head clean off. When you turned to see how the boys were doing, you were met with less success than yourself. Dean had gotten his weapon wrestled from him and thrown to the side.

You charged up to the vamp attacking him from behind and swung, but he moved at the last second and you cut through the air, nearly missing Dean's nose. His eyes widened before turning his attention back to the vampire, turning its attention on you, pissed.

Dean grabbed for his machete on the ground and charged, nicking its shoulder. You turned back to Sam who was far too preoccupied with watching your back that he was losing his battle. His arm was bleeding as he tried to fight off with his other good arm. As you made your way to help, the vamp kicked him across the floor, Sam slammed his head on the cabinets in the fall, and you winced. You turned back to Dean, who had his vamp cornered and was talking smack (because he always has to use that smart mouth). Seeing he was perfectly fine; you turned your attention back to your vampire.

Pissed, you took one swing to the unassuming man and his head thudded to the ground, rolling as you rushed over to Sam.

"Jesus," you said as you helped him up. He groaned. "Why the hell were you watching me?" you remarked, annoyed.

"I wasn't!" he defended, propped up against the cabinets behind him. Footsteps echoed behind you.

"Sammy what the hell!" Dean said behind you.

"He didn't bite you, did he?" you asked, brows furrowed and eyes scanning his body. You looked closer at the wound on his arm, and he hissed.

"No."

"No need to be pissy about it, c'mere," you hoisted yourself up and held out a hand for him to take. He grabbed it and used the leverage to pull himself up as well, not meeting your eyes.

"You could've gotten yourself killed," you scolded.

"Yeah, well I didn't," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"I dunno why you were so worried about me. I told you; I was fine. I can handle myself."

"Yeah, I gathered that," he replied with a huff as he walked through the back door.

"That was it right?" you turned to Dean who had been silent for the time being.

"Yeah, those assholes came from the basement. I checked after I wasted the other vamp."

"Wasted?" you teased.

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes with a smile. You turned your attention ahead of you again and saw that Sam was much further ahead than before, so you jogged to keep up with him.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he grumbled.

"You have a huge gash on your arm, and you hit your head like a motherfucker," you deadpanned. Normally, this would crack at least a small smile from Sam, but he said nothing keeping his eyes trained ahead.

"Listen, I don't understand why you're upset with me," you tried again.

"I'm not upset with you," he reluctantly responded after a moment.

"Then what's up?" More silence. You saw him chewing on his cheek, contemplating what to say next. "C'mon, you're my best friend," you nudged his bad arm, and he winced. "Shit, sorry."

He turned to you with a look in his eye, scanning over your face before speaking, "I wasn't expecting you to be so close with Dean."

You almost laughed, but for Sam's sake you reeled it in. A smile creeps up on you, and you watch his face for a second before replying, "Are you jealous, Winchester?"

He shook his head in disbelief and a small laugh fell from his lips. You smiled, "I missed that laugh." Your cheeks flushed at the moment of vulnerability, and you hesitated to meet his gaze. He dipped his head, so you had no choice but to look up at the puppy dog look he was giving you as the two of you walked right up to the side of the Impala.

You both stopped, saying nothing. You weren't sure what to say. Sam didn't have anything to be jealous of. Dean was your family, sure, but Sam was this big, never ending, sense of warmth. You held on to that stupid crush for years. How could you explain that to him?

You looked at him and studied his face. His lips were pursed slightly and his eyes darted back and forth over your face. You wished so badly to reach out and touch him but refrained, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't your place. Sam still said nothing.

Dean finally reached the two of you, clearing his throat with raised eyebrows. Some sight the two of you must've been, Sam bloody and beaten, and you sheepish and wide eyed, turning from each other to look at Dean.

"Don't you two look cute," he remarked with a smirk, making Sam choke in surprise, his neck stiff with embarrassment. Your cheeks went red, and you squinted at Dean as if you could inflict physical pain through a look. He looked smug as he glanced between the two of you and the both of you took a step away from each other at the implication.

"I need a cigarette," you both said at the same time. Then, "You smoke?"

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not really proofread... sorry !

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ferarri16 · 6 days ago

Text

off the record

luke browning x actress! reader

summary: two interviews go viral and the whole world thinks you’re dating- or it’s a setup

authors note: please comment and reblog!

Okay, last one,” the interviewer smiles, glancing down at her card like she’s reading something she already knows will get a reaction. “Who’s your athlete crush?”

You know this question is coming. Of course you do. It’s always the last one — they want to end on a laugh, a blush, something viral for their TikTok.

You take a brief pause. The silence stretches just long enough to make it feel like a bigger deal than you meant it to be. You sit up a little straighter, smoothing your dress as you get ready to answer.

“Okay,” you say, keeping your tone casual. “If I answer this, no one’s allowed to be annoying about it, alright?”

The crew chuckles. The interviewer leans in like she’s about to be let in on a secret.

“Luke Browning,” you say simply. “F2 driver. Currently racing for Hitech. Very fast. Very British. Very... I don’t know, he’s just cool. Pretty cute too.”

There’s a beat of silence and then a chorus of surprised laughs — not mocking, just delighted that you didn’t say something predictable.

“You’re the first person to say an F2 driver in that seat,” the interviewer says, clearly loving it.

You grin, cheeks warm but not in a regretful way. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve watched Formula 1 since like… 2019? And then I got into Formula 2 and 3 soon after, so I’ve followed him for a while. I just think he’s really talented. And seems nice.”

That last part you say like it’s a disclaimer, like you’re afraid I’ll get called out for crushing on someone you’ve never met. Which, okay — fair — but also, not illegal.

“Manifesting a meet-cute in the paddock then?” she asks teasingly.

You groan, sliding down in my chair. “Don’t do this to me,” you laugh. “It’s just a silly little crush. Please don’t make it a thing.”

But of course, the internet will absolutely make it a thing.

•••

Austria. Red Bull Ring. A weekend that had already gone sideways. The Marti crash — the flip — was all anyone wanted to talk about. And Luke was over it.

He gets it, obviously. Big moment. Huge crash. He was lucky to walk away from it. But by the third interview, he can already feel the answers turning robotic.

“Yes, I’m feeling okay.”

“Yes, it was scary in the moment.”

“No, it hasn’t changed how I approach tomorrow.”

“Yes, we’ve gone over the telemetry.”

He’s on autopilot, nodding along to questions, until the Sky Sports reporter chuckles and says, “Alright, let’s end on a lighter note, yeah? Who’s your celebrity crush?”

It’s such a quick turnaround that he blinks for a second.

The camera’s still rolling. There’s a mic in his face. His mind races through options. He could say someone obvious. Margot Robbie. Zendaya. Safe bets.

But for some reason, what comes out of his mouth is:

“Y/N. Uh— Y/N L/N.”

“She’s a brilliant actress,” the reporter agrees. “What is it about her?”

Luke hesitates for half a second, then shrugs, letting a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “She’s just… cool. Seems really smart. Grounded. And funny in interviews. Like she actually gives thoughtful answers, you know?”

He doesn’t say he thinks she’s beautiful though it’s obviously implied. He just shrugs again and says, “I think she’d be fun to talk to.”

He doesn’t think much of it after that. Just something a bit lighter than crash analysis.

What he doesn’t expect is to open Twitter that night and see her face next to his in every F1 meme account post.

> “No way this wasn’t coordinated 😭”

> “Luke Browning and Y/N L/N saying each other’s names in interviews on the same weekend is SO unserious of them”

> “I love this soft launch energy”

> “Can we get the crossover episode please”

> “She watches F2?! We won.”

It’s a weird thing, going viral for something that wasn’t even your idea.

The team had just finished up a debrief, and Luke was still half-sweaty, half-annoyed, half-starving — and yeah, he knew that was too many halves, but his brain wasn’t at full power.

So when a Sky reporter asked him who his celebrity crush was, he didn’t even think about it. The words just…came out.

> “Y/N. Uh— Y/N L/N.”

He meant it as a throwaway line. Something to make the segment less grim.

He did not mean for it to turn into a shipping war.

By that night, the clip was everywhere.

But not just his clip.

Her’s too.

Apparently, Y/N had done an interview earlier that week — some press junket in London for a new project — and when they asked her about an athlete crush, she said his name. On camera. Without laughing. With this nervous, charming, very real little smile.

He only found out when Dino shoved his phone in Luke’s face like it was a tabloid.

“Mate. She said you first.”

> “Luke Browning. F2 driver. Very fast. Very British.”

Luke nearly chokes on his water.

“She watches F2?” he asks.

And then, because he’s incapable of any other response: “What the fuck”

•••

Your phone explodes sometime around 2 a.m. when you’re halfway through trying to scrub eyeliner off with a hotel washcloth. You don’t check it right away — you’ve been up since 5:30 doing press in three different outfits and trying not to fall over in five-inch heels. Whatever it is can wait.

Except it apparently can’t.

Because you wake up to five missed calls from your publicist and an inbox full of fan edits.

And they all have the same headline:

> **“Y/N L/N and Luke Browning: Crush Confessions?”**

You press play on one of the videos and there it is. Him. Saying your name. On camera. In real life.

You pause it. Rewind. Watch it again.

“She’s just… cool. Seems really smart.”

You sink into the hotel bed like you’ve been shot.

“Oh my God,” you mutter to no one.

There’s a knock at the door. Your best friend leans in a raised brow. “You seen Twitter?”

“Yeah. I saw Twitter.”

You’re not saying you regret it.

Sure, the videos have gone viral, the fan edits of you and a man you’ve never met, and your publicist has already said the words “just don’t feed into it” at least six times.

But no. You don’t regret it.

It was just supposed to be a bit funny. The side of you that’s a huge motorsports fan but doesn’t get to talk about that often. You thought you’d say his name and get a few laughs from the Formula fans on TikTok.

You didn’t think he would see it.

You definitely didn’t think he’d say your name back.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the bed with a granola bar in one hand and your phone in the other, watching the clip for the eighth time. Jess is somewhere in the background, probably reorganizing her hair clips by vibe, but you can’t focus on anything except the stupid five-second clip where Luke says you’re cool and funny and “seem really smart.”

Your face is burning.

“You’re down bad,” Jess calls from the bathroom.

“I am not down bad,” you call back, flipping your phone over like that’ll save you.

“You’re literally watching him say your name on a loop.”

“It’s research.”

There’s a pause, then: “For what? Your wedding vows?”

You throw a pillow at the door.

•••

His phone is lighting up again.

Group chats. Media alerts. Twitter. Instagram. Even his mum sent him a screenshot with the caption:

> *“She’s very pretty. Don’t mess this up.”*

Luke swears softly and sets his phone face-down. It does nothing. It still buzzes twice in a row, then three more times.

It’s gone beyond funny now. This isn’t just “haha crush stuff.” This is full-blown narrative. Edits on TikTok. Fan theories. A tweet that reads, “You’re telling me this isn’t PR when Silverstone is next week??”

Which — okay. That’s the kicker.

Because yes, they’re both going to be at Silverstone.

But it’s not some plan. No publicist meetings. No scheming. Luke’s been scheduled to race there since the calendar dropped. And as far as he knows, Y/N’s guest pass was sorted weeks ago.

But of course no one believes that.

So now, every time someone says “Silverstone,” they don’t mean “home race.” They mean, *“When are you two going to make eye contact and set the internet on fire?”*

The media team is already panicking.

“Just act normal,” his comms manager tells him. “If you bump into her, be polite. Say hi. Don’t say anything about TikTok. And don’t flirt.”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “I don’t flirt.”

“You don’t know that.”

He walks away before he says something stupid. Like, “I really want to meet her now and I kind of hate how much I mean that.”

•••

Here’s the thing: you’re not showing up to Silverstone in some planned "surprise reveal." You’ve had this pass for weeks. You’re here because you love this. Because you’ve watched this race every year since discovering the sport.

People are already whispering when you get to the paddock. Just soft enough that you can pretend I didn’t hear them.

> “That’s her, right?”

> “She’s the one who said Luke Browning?”

> “Do you think they’ve met yet?”

You’re doing your best to look normal. Jeans. Sneakers. A Ferrari cap, because you’re loyal even when it hurts. Jess is trailing behind you with a backpack and a grin she’s not bothering to hide.

“What?” You hiss.

“You’re being weird,” she says, nudging your arm. “Just walk like a person.”

“I am walking like a person!”

“You’re walking like someone who thinks they’re about to run into a boy.”

You glare at her. “We are not making this a thing.”

“Too late.”

You sigh, tuck your hands in my pockets, and try to focus on literally anything else.

You’re here for the race. That’s it.

Even if you are quietly hoping you might see him.

•••

The paddock is smaller than you expected.

Or maybe it just feels that way because you’re trying to disappear into the floor of the Ferrari hospitality suite.

This was supposed to be a normal weekend.

Well — normal for someone who got invited to Silverstone by a Formula 1 team. The plan was: show face, smile politely, take a few pictures for the team’s social, and spend the rest of the day watching your favorite sport. Low-key. Civilized.

That was before the internet decided you’re dating Luke Browning.

And not because you’ve met. No. Because you both — independently — said the other was your crush in back-to-back interviews. Same day, within hours. Total coincidence.

So now you’re sitting in the Ferrari suite, watching everyone prepare for the sprint race, and you can feel the eyes on you.

“Do you want to go down to the garage for a minute?” one of the Ferrari PR girls asks sweetly. “It’s quieter.”

She doesn’t say less awkward, but it’s implied.

You nod quickly, like she just offered you asylum.

•••

The garage is calm, at least. Controlled chaos. You lean against the back wall near the tire trolleys, trying not to look like a stray. Someone hands you a headset — you think out of politeness — and you slip it on, grateful for the barrier it creates. You can’t hear anything but team radio chatter, and no one’s trying to talk to me, which is bliss.

Then you see him.

Luke Browning. Walking into the paddock with his fireproofs around his waist and a water bottle in hand like he’s not the reason your phone has been blowing up for two straight days.

He looks exactly like he does on TV. Not better. Not worse. Just real.

You freeze.

For a second, you consider pretending you didn’t see him. Maybe if you duck behind a tire warmer, he won’t notice you—

Too late.

He slows. Looks up. Meets your eyes.

Stops.

Oh no.

You see it land in his face. Recognition. Surprise. A split-second internal panic. And then —

He smiles.

Not a confident, media-trained smile. An actual smile. A little lopsided. A little caught off guard.

He steps closer.

“Hi.”

You manage to blink. “Hi.”

A beat.

“You’re… here,” he says, as if he’s still not sure you’re not a hologram. “Like actually here.”

“I swear I didn’t plan this,” you say quickly. “I was invited to the race before any of that — like, weeks ago.”

“Oh.” He shifts his weight. “That’s… good. I mean— not that it would’ve been bad if you had planned it, just—”

“I promise I’m not running some long con,” you cut in, half-laughing.

He laughs too, more relaxed now. “I guess it would’ve been clever if you were.”

“I’m not clever,” you deadpan. “I’m just a girl with unfortunate timing.”

“Tell me about it.”

Another beat. This time, the silence isn’t awkward — it’s weirdly charged. Like you both know how absurd this is, but neither of you wants to say it.

Luke gestures to the cars. “You watching the sprint?”

You nod. “Obviously.”

He smirks. “Obviously.”

“Just so we’re clear,” you add, “I’ve known who you were before I ever opened my mouth on camera. I’ve watched F2 for years. This isn’t, like, a post-race TikTok crush situation.”

His eyes go wide. “You’ve actually watched F2?”

“Since Prema ran matching helmets for Halloween.”

He lets out a surprised laugh. “That was a deep cut.”

You shrug. “I’m a fan, not a poser.”

Something flickers across his face — maybe relief, maybe curiosity. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say more, but then someone calls his name from a few steps away. It’s a team staffer, pointing toward the pre-grid area.

He grimaces. “I should go.”

“Right,” you say, stepping back automatically. “Do your job. I’ll stop loitering.”

“You’re not loitering,” he says quickly. “You’re, like—"

He stops himself. Clears his throat.

“You’re fine.”

You smile. “So are you.”

His ears go *very slightly* pink.

“Right,” he says again. “See you around?”

“Yeah. Probably.”

Then he jogs off toward pit lane, looking back once — just briefly.

•••

He barely remembers how the sprint race went.

Honestly, it’s a miracle he made it to Turn 1 without running into the gravel, because the only thing in his head during warmup was her voice saying, *“I’m a fan, not a poser.”*

He doesn’t know what he expected from her. Some kind of ultra-polished, Hollywood energy? Someone who’d laugh off the internet drama and pose for a cute little PR photo and disappear?

Instead, she knew what a tire warmer was.

She made fun of him.

She was real.

And now he’s sitting in the back of the Hitech hospitality tent, absolutely losing the plot because he cannot stop grinning like an idiot.

“Did you see her?” one of the other drivers mutters to a mechanic, not realizing Luke is in earshot. “She’s actually here. Like, not just on TikTok.”

Luke says nothing.

But the pink in his ears gives him away.

•••

By the time the F2 sprint wraps, you’re ready to leave.

Not because you didn’t like seeing him — you did. Maybe too much.

But you’re painfully aware of the paddock whisper network. People talk. Fans post. And you can already feel the stories brewing. Especially because someone, somewhere, definitely got a photo of that moment in the garage. The internet’s probably mid-frenzy.

You try to leave quietly.

Key word: try.

But when you reach the exit near the paddock gates, there he is again. Changed, showered, casual in team kit and shorts, phone in hand. He looks up and spots you instantly.

“You’re leaving?”

You nod. “I thought I’d escape before someone turns this into a fake engagement announcement.”

He smiles. “Bit late for that.”

You pause.

“Do you want to walk out together?” he asks.

My brain screams. You play it cool.

“Yeah. Okay.”

You fall into step. The noise fades behind you — engines cooling, garages emptying, media wrapping up for the day.

And for a moment, it just feels… normal.

“I’m still not sure this isn’t some elaborate PR stunt,” you say, half-joking.

“Same,” he replies. “Except if it is, I’m definitely not the brains behind it.”

“I think we’re both just victims of fate.”

He grins. “Or chaos.”

“Probably both,” you add.

You reach the paddock gate, where a few fans are gathered, cameras raised.

He looks at you.

“Want to go out the back?”

You smile.

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

155 notes · View notes

krems-chair · 8 months ago

Text

Something Something Yeah It's Still Solavellan Hours (Mythal is kind of here, too)

I've seen a few very beautifully articulated posts talking about the conflicted responses players are finding themselves having in regards to the decision by writers* to have Solas' atonement route possible because of his conversation with one of the remaining fragments of Mythal.

(*honestly I hesitate to put the weight of bigger game events on their shoulders because of how much I know bigger players in the company were involved, so when you read 'writers' know I just mean whoever had final say on plot)

I love reading where people are at on this, and having now breathed, re-played the scene, cried, read some more theories, and then played the scene again enough times I think I'm now able to figure out where I'm at.

TLDR: in my humble opinion, the conversation Solas has with Mythal doesn't bring him any actual closure at all. It is only the version of the atonement ending that has Lavellan in which he is actually set upon a road to redemption.

This, like everything else where I lose my mind, will be long. I tried to restrain myself and here we are, unhinged as ever.

I was unhappy at first that Mythal's incredibly brief conversation with Solas where she releases him from her service seemed to be what finally allowed him to make a decision based on his wants and not hers. My concern stemmed mostly from the fact that a lot of us are trying to be active participants in a society that recognizes patterns of abuse and seeks to establish channels through which individuals can pursue healing without the approval, consent, or demise of their abuser.

But the more I look at the scene, the more I wonder what would have happened in a world where Veilguard got just a little more time in development. Could we have gotten a scene that more elegantly conveys the theme that we cannot heal every part of our loved ones, much as we might like to?

In an imperfect world it isn't always up to us how someone finds closure, which really sucks when you'd like to ensure a loved one finds it in a way that preserves their dignity and limits exposure to the individuals who have harmed them.

And while it could be left there, I'd like to actually push back on the idea that Mythal is in any way responsible for "healing" Solas in this moment.

I went on a different tirade a few days ago about how at the end of Inquisition, Mythal says words to Solas that on their surface seem well-intentioned or placating, but they actually just serve to further bind him in guilt and a position of servitude. In Veilguard's finale, she still does not take accountability for exactly how much of a role she played in the pain that Solas, a man others have revered and feared as a god, has gone through as he cowers, actually cowers before her.

Mythal's interaction with Solas conveys exactly two things to him as far as I am concerned (I'm going to botch these quotes but my laptop is dying so please accept some paraphrase as I rush to finish this before I go cry about this analysis to my uncaring dog):

"The terrible things we did, we did together." You are forever tied to me.

"I release you from my service." But what am I releasing you to?

Because up until Lavellan joins the fray here, all I take away from the physical and unwilling emotional cues Solas gives in this scene (he is a master in trickery, for goodness' sake, the thought of so many witnesses seeing him unable to hide behind a mask has to leave him feeling anguished on top of everything else) is that Mythal has once again reminded him of everything he did in her name and telling him that all that's left for him is to go back to the fade prison and, as he as always done, endure the crushing weight of his failures alone.

To me, in my interpretation, the Solas that hears this from Mythal with no Lavellan intervention may choose to willingly step down from his original plan (and yeah, that's gonna do some damage) but he is certainly not free of his past. He's going to be reminded of it every time he turns a corner and finds more blight to try and soothe, and even the moments that he rests will be filled with more manifestations of his regret. He says it himself: where he's going? It's terrible.

Enter Lavellan. Yeah, he couldn't bring himself to listen to her at her first plea (but like damn how many times are we going to have to watch her give a heartfelt speech only for him to be like 'something something beautiful elven rejection'). But I know that you know that our clever icon knows better than to take what Solas says at face value. She tells Rook plainly that he's absolute dogshit at lies of the heart, and she says it with her whole chest.

Lavellan sees the way his shoulders slump (in resignation yes, but you can't convince me there's not a little bit of relief there, too), she hears the agony in the "vhenan" that escapes his lips (which, don't even get me started on the fact that it's been like nine years and he has no hesitation at all calling her his heart, it just spills out of him). It is not the sound of a man delighting in the steps he's about to take. They're certainly not steps he does not dislike that lead to a destination he enjoys.

And then she watches Mythal (who I can't imagine she feels any sort of fondness or respect for) pull some weird nonsense on her love one final time, and she knows it's her moment to shine.

Mythal, I would argue, pushes Solas down one more time, shames him into seeking atonement, into once again being alone.

It is the romanced Lavellan that kneels so that he cannot fail to meet her eyes. It is she who invokes their connection, not to remind him of his failures but to reaffirm his greatest strength: their love and their love alone is inevitable. Not the consequences of his past, not the regret he thinks will consume him as he seeks to mend what has been broken. It has only ever been them.

"There is no fate but the love we share". We are forever tied together.

"There is no fate but the love we share." *I* am releasing you from everything else save for this love.

Put colloquially: get absolutely fucking wrecked, Mythal.

Body language comparison to chase up the dialogue one, anyone? The way Solas shrinks before Mythal as opposed to him walking off into the fade with Lavellan at his side and standing tall, and he does not flinch when she lifts a hand to his shoulder?

Ultimately, Mythal is a part of the atonement endings no matter what. But it is only Lavellan that refuses to let him walk alone. It is only Lavellan that guarantees that his dinan'shiral ends not in a prison of regret, but a place of promise.

Mythal bends Solas until he breaks one last time. Lavellan takes each piece, claims it as hers, and uses them to build the beginnings of a future.

#solavellan #lavellan #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #veilguard spoilers #datv spoilers #solas #solas meta #solavellan meta #solavellan hell #solavellan heaven

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bi-bats · 2 months ago

Note

18 + jaytim for the drabble ask? or any prompt you wish you were sent!

Wow it's SUCH a good thing that I kept a note that had all the actual prompts in them 😂 Thank you for waiting so patiently for this!!! And if you're on ao3 please reply with your link so I can gift it to you! I hope you enjoy 💚

Prompt: This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.

Keep reading on ao3 or below the cut:

“Okay. Our target will be entering the theater with his date sometime between 5:28 and 5:42. Research indicates that he likes to be in the theater long enough to see all the previews, and his date likes to have time to acquire snacks. I’ve seen the movie three times already, so even though the tickets say the movie starts at 6, it’s actually going to start at 6:14, and lights will go down for previews at 5:55. We’re going to enter the theater at 5:54 — question?”

“What if I want popcorn?” Jason asks, lowering his hand back down into his lap.

Tim scoffs and rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the map of the theater. “I’m not answering that—”

“—We’re going to sit through a two hour movie that you’ve already seen three times, I want snacks.”

Tim’s lips press into a thin line as he glares at Jason.

Jason raises an eyebrow at him, and the standoff continues as Tim assesses his opponent.

The air between them is so tense, it’s sort of surprising that a tumbleweed doesn’t blow right through the nest.

Tim breaks first, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Fine, after a cost-benefit analysis in which the cost is adding time to buy snacks and the benefit is you not intentionally sabotaging our mission, I have determined it is in my best interest to add time for us to buy snacks.”

“The cost is also the actual snacks, you know,” Jason adds.

Tim very graciously decides not to throw his laser pointer at him.

“Focus up, Jason, this is a mission.”

Jason scoffs and kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, looking incredibly bored, but he nods at Tim and redirects his attention to the map of the theater.

“We will be entering the theater at 5:54. You’re going to laugh at something I say right as the lights are going down, so that I can shush you and draw the target’s attention. Then we’re going to find our seats, which are here—” Tim points the laser at a pair of seats two rows in front of the seat with a target drawn neatly on it, “—so that he sees us, but doesn’t have time to corner us. After we sit, you’ll put your arm around me — what is it now, Jason?” Tim sighs at Jason’s raised hand.

“Why don’t we just tell them we’re dating?”

Jason thinks he sees Tim’s eye twitch.

“Are you insane?”

“Are you? Look at this fucking plan, Tim.” Jason waves a hand at the map of the theater. “You saw the Barbie movie three times for this, and you’re going to see it a fourth.”

“This is Dick’s eleventh time seeing it.”

“He’s Dick.”

“Yeah, but it’s worth it! And I actually think you’ll really like it too, it has excellent commentary on—”

“—Not the point, baby,” Jason interrupts, shaking his head.

Tim scoffs, getting that tilt to his mouth that only comes out when he’s really irritated.

“So what, you wanted to sit them all down and tell them?”

“Ugh, no!” Jason huffs. “I figured we could just, like. I don’t know. Kiss after a briefing or something.”

Oh, Tim’s eye is definitely twitching.

“In the Batcave. Where we can be locked in?”

“Oh, fine, yeah. I see that, alright. After a mission, before the briefing, then?”

“So you want to be interrogated publicly.”

“We can run!” Jason scoffs.

“From Dick, Damian, Stephanie, Cass, Duke, Babs, and Bruce?”

“Well, Duke might not be there, we might have a chance if—”

“—Cass.”

In the following silence, Tim crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow at Jason.

“Fine. Fine!” Jason sighs, “Not that. One at a time, then?”

“You want to have the same conversation six times?”

“Why does everyone think I hate talking about feelings?”

“Because you do hate talking about feelings,” Tim says, looking slightly amused.

“I value my privacy, there’s a difference. Plus, in this family, you give an inch and they take a mile.”

“Fine. Let me walk you through what happens if we don’t do my plan.”

Oh, here we go, Jason thinks as he spots that one look in Tim’s eye that he gets whenever he’s setting a trap.

“Where do you suggest we start?”

“Oh god, Bruce last.”

“Fine, give me the order you would want to do it in.”

Jason tilts his head to the side for a second, before settling on: “Duke, Cass, Dick, Steph, Damian, Bruce.”

Tim opens his mouth, a glimmer in his eyes, and Jason adds, “Actually, switch Steph and Dick.”

If anything, that malicious look in his eyes only gets worse.

“Okay, fine. Starting with Duke is smart. Since he has the whole ghost vision thing, he probably already knows. He’ll have some questions, and he’ll probably tease us a little, but it shouldn’t be totally unbearable, right?”

Jason winces.

“Next, Cass. She definitely already knows, but she’s been waiting for us to tell her because either she’s being kind, or because she’s also waiting for the opportunity to tease us. But again, we can take getting teased by Cass.

“Now, switching Steph and Dick. Either way, we’ve already fallen into a trap, because Steph will be offended if we tell Dick first, and Dick will be offended if we tell Steph first, and either way, both of them will be offended that we told Duke and Cass before them. Steph already knows we were sleeping together—”

“—What?”

“Oh, yeah, I told her ages ago,” Tim says, swiping a hand through the air like he can just wave away Jason’s surprise. “So us dating probably won’t be news, strictly speaking. But she’s going to squeal and hug us and be excited and so happy for us—” he drops his voice back down from the higher pitched tone he’s been using to mock his best friend, “—until she finds out that we’ve been hiding it from her for three months, and then this is going to be an actual, physical fight.”

“No, it won’t,” Jason scoffs, kicking at the coffee table.

“Jason,” Tim says, crossing his arms over his chest. “She hit me in the face with a brick the day we met. She is going to punch you, and it is going to hurt.”

It wouldn’t hurt that much, Jason thinks. But he knows better than to try and stop Tim now that he’s really going, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets his head fall to rest on the back of the couch.

“Now, Dick. He’s going to be so emotional. He’s going to be so happy for us he could cry, and he might, and he’s also going to be indignant that we didn’t tell him first. And once he gets past that, he is going to have a thousand questions, some of which are going to be invasive and personal and deeply uncomfortable. And he’s not going to understand that they are invasive and personal and deeply uncomfortable! It’s going to be an interrogation, Jason. One where he asks us about our sex life.”

Jason refuses to wince at that. He does sigh, if only to voice his displeasure with everything about this situation.

Well. Everything except getting to date Tim.

That’s been pretty great.

“And if we ever escape Dick, then we’ll have Damian. He does care about us and he will find a way to shovel talk both of us, but he probably won’t care that we waited so long to tell him. He is definitely going to be mad that he was the last to know, though. Actually, no one is going to be happy about not being the first to know. But revisiting shovel talks, Bruce.”

“Hey, I’m actually dying to see the look on his face when he finds out,” Jason says, a malicious grin pulling across his face. “That vein in his forehead is going to pop out, it’ll be funny.”

“Oh?” Tim raises an eyebrow, stepping towards the coffee table. His palms press to the table as he leans down to look Jason in the eyes.

The whole thing would probably be as intimidating as he was going for to someone who hadn’t seen imprint of bedsheets pressed into the side of his face this morning as he tripped on the sheets getting out of bed.

But he’s a professional, so he carries on like Jason hasn’t noticed the intimidation isn’t working.

“It’ll be funny? It’ll be funny when Bruce handles it by telling us we need to break up because he doesn’t have any time to process what it means for us and not what it means for the mission?”

“He’s not going to do that, Tim.”

Tim narrows his eyes at Jason.

“Are you sure?”

Suddenly, Jason’s throat feels a little dry.

“Okay, fine,” he concedes. “B doesn’t always respond well to emotional situations under pressure. But he won’t demand we break up—”

“—No?” Tim interrupts. “Then what, we’ll get a lecture on how we’re endangering ourselves and each other and everyone else with our feelings?”

“We won’t—”

“Even if we don’t, you think Dick’s interrogation was going to be bad? That’ll be the warm-up for Bruce. He’ll take each of us into his office alone and ask a million questions, and if, if he approves, it’ll still be exhausting and uncomfortable and—”

“Okay, okay!” Jason stops him, putting his hands up in surrender. The motion makes that one look ripple through Tim’s eyes that he gets whenever he wins, the one that’s always a little bit of a turn on when it’s not Jason who’s lost. “You made your point. We’re not going to tell them all individually.”

“And you still want to tell them all together? You want to handle all of those reactions at once?”

“Not really,” Jason sighs.

“Okay. In that case, hear my plan out: We let Dick see us on a date. He starts to suspect that it’s a date, and he follows us. We get dinner after the movie and let him follow us, and then you take me home, and we let him see us kissing through the window. He won’t interrupt because then he would have to admit he was spying on us, and he won’t want to walk in on us, but that’s key, because it gives him time to process it. And because he’s a horrible gossip, he’s going to tell everyone for us. And he’s also going to tell everyone to keep it quiet and not say anything to us, because he doesn’t want us to know it came from him. And that is going to give everyone else time to process it. And eventually Dick is going to get sick of trying to subtly ask us questions and he’s just going to blurt out a question about whether or not we’re actually dating, and we’ll say yes, and then he’ll be so smug about having ‘figured it out’ that he won’t ask half of the questions he would have if we’d sprung it on him, and by then he’ll have figured out that he doesn’t actually want to know the answers to those questions.”

“One flaw in your plan.”

“No, there isn’t,” Tim scoffs.

“Everyone’s going to be mad we hid it for this long anyways.”

“But we did hide it for this long, so it’s a little too late to avoid that. And if anyone gets mad, we just tell them that we were worried that they weren’t going to accept us and that’s why we didn’t tell them, and then they’ll stop being mad because it won’t look good for them.”

“That’s kind of manipulative, Tim.”

Tim shrugs at him. “And? Look, are you in or not?”

“So, your plan is to let Dick see us on a date at the Barbie movie and then let him follow us home so he can see us kiss?”

“Yes. Weren’t you listening?”

Jason sighs and rubs his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. “This is the stupidest plan you’ve ever had—”

“—Hey!—”

“—but yes, I’m in.”

“That’s more like it. But for the record, it’s not stupid. It’s incredibly well thought out.” The little red dot of the laser pointer circles around the map of the theater, as if Tim’s proving his point.

“That’s what makes this so stupid, baby. This is way too much work. You saw that movie three times for this.”

“You’re going to want to see it again, too, Jason. I promise.”

“Wait, wait, one last question, though.”

Tim sighs, “Yes?”

“We are actually going to fuck after Dick sees us kiss, right?”

Jason ducks just in time to dodge the laser pointer soaring over his head as he cackles at Tim.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes.

The last of Jason’s laughter dies down as he fishes the laser pointer out from behind the couch and tosses it back to Tim.

“Every day, baby. Aw, don’t pout, come on. You can walk me through your plan again, if you want.”

“Fine. Now pay attention, and hold all your questions until the end, please.”

They make it about as far in to the plan as they did last time when Jason raises his hand again.

“Yes, Jason, what now?” Tim asks.

Jason smirks, mischievous and playful.

“What kind of snacks are we getting?”

#jaytim #jaytim fic #batsasks #batwrites #ask games #prompt fill

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autistichalsin · 5 months ago

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Mind Flayers and prions: a scientific analysis

Earlier today, I did some brain-related research for a fic of mine, and had a horrifying realization: what the hell happens if a Mind Flayer, which exclusively eat brains, catches a prion infection? A normal Mind Flayer is terrifying enough, now imagine one with kuru!

Then it was suggested to me that Mind Flayers would likely be immune somehow. And yeah, that seems like the second-most Occam's Razor-compliant theory (the first being that prions don't exist in Faerun, but come on, I'm a fucking biology nerd with a Masters in epidemiology and a love of parasitology, the odds of me making it that easy were fucking zero). But the question is: how would that work biologically?

So then I started with a deep-dive into prions in our world, and got my answer from a study on transgenic mice.

Before I get into that, though, I want to lay out the assumptions I'm making here:

Prions exist in Faerun, are capable of infecting humanoids, are found at the same locus (the Prnp gene that codes for PRion Protein [PRP] is located on the short arm of chromosome 20), and are transmitted the same way (in this case, the most relevant is consumption of infected brain tissue).

Considering that in Forgotten Realms canon, Mind Flayer tadpoles can't be inserted into dwarves, gnomes, etc (BG3 diverged from canon in this, and I can't blame them, it would be a sad and lonely game without little folks around), Mind Flayer DNA most closely resembles humans, but is obviously different from human DNA in more areas than elves or orcs (who we will assume are much more closely related to humans given that they can reproduce together) are to humans. That is to say, elves and orcs are closer to humans on the phylogenetic tree than mind flayers are, but mind flayers are still close to all of these, most especially humans.

The genetics of all organisms in Faerun are fundamentally the same as ours. The proteins and respective codons are the same, their form and function and significance are the same, they use the same five mammalian nucleotide bases... you get the picture. Minor genotypic differences are definitely there, but we're going to assume the foundations that inform our understanding of genetics as a whole are the same.

So, then. First, a very brief introduction to prions, because many people have never heard of them aside from possibly knowing about "mad cow disease" (feel free to skip this if you do already know):

The word prion is derived from the words protein and infection. It's exactly what it sounds like. It's a protein that is also an infectious agent, not a virus of bacteria. It exists as a wrongly-folded protein, and is very resistant to protease (enzymes that normally would break down a problematic protein). Over time, due to their resistance to proteolysis (the process that breaks down proteins)*, they eventually can force other proteins to misfold.

*Seriously, it can't be understated how terrifyingly resistant these things are. They can be inactivated with bleach, yes, but they resist autoclaves. You have to subject them to heats of 900 degrees Fahrenheit to denature them. For reference, the inside of a volcano is usually about 2,200 degrees.

The shape of proteins is extremely important in how they function, and proteins really want to be as parsimonious as possible; they want to use the lowest amount of energy possible to find a stable shape. The misfolded proteins require a lower energy expenditure than the normal form to maintain their shape, which is also more stable (hence its resistance to denaturing by heat), so normal proteins adopt it quite readily once exposed. From there, gradually (as little as months to as much as years) the proteins all convert to this unusual state. Unfortunately, while it's more stable for the individual proteins involved, it's a lot less stable for the brain itself, and the cells there begin to clump in amyloids, which cause brain damage and ultimately death. Prions are 100% fatal and care is limited to comfort measures. They also cause probably the worst symptoms of any disease I can think of. For example, the worst one of all, Fatal Familial Insomnia, literally causes sufferers to become unable to sleep. They start with extreme trouble sleeping, then over the course of a year find themselves gradually able to do it less, until one day they can't at all. Death follows in a few months, by which point it's downright merciful because they've been plagued with pain, paranoia, loss of memory, disorientation, headaches, weight loss, and more.

Prions are transmitted in a few ways: as noted, eating infected animal tissue is a big one, and was what led to the "mad cow disease" outbreak in the UK in the 1990s; cows were fed food containing the brain matter of other diseased cows, picked up the disease, and were then turned into food which infected quite a few people. Other ways are through contaminated medical equipment (as noted, you need to basically nuke medical equipment from orbit when it's used on someone with prions, and the long time from exposure to disease onset means a lot of patients are sick unknown to themselves or doctors), through genetics (IE Fatal Familial Insomnia), or sometimes even through spontaneous development if you're one of the unluckiest people on Earth.

So that's your primer on prions. Genetics, I'm going to assume some knowledge here, but I will give a brief explanation (brief because I don't want to seem like I'm just giving a thinly-veiled biology lecture).

The way genes code for proteins is by a series of codons, which are sequences of three nucleotide bases (A, C, G, and U/T depending on whether it's DNA or RNA) that are read and translated by the body. Most of the DNA in your body is non-coding and doesn't do anything, but the regions between a start and stop codon are what are used to make the proteins you need.

The gene that is implicated in prion diseases is known as Prnp, and produces the prion protein (which in its normal state is called PRPc and in its diseased state is known as PRPsc [sc standing for scrapie, which was the first prion disease to be discovered]). It is located on the short arm of chromosome 20. What it does normally is a bit of a mystery still, but the most widely believed hypotheses are cell adhesion or neuronal communication.

So, most mammals are really susceptible to them. Deer in the USA are currently suffering from a massive outbreak of one called Chronic Wasting Disease, humans have quite a few that affect us, and there are some notable ones in sheep, cows, etc. Even cats can get it. Rabbits are believed to be immune, but when scientists did an experiment with transgenic mice that forced them to express the lapine version of the Prnp gene, scientists could still force the protein to misfold by infecting the mice with prions, which suggests their immunity isn't absolute.

On the other hand, canines are also resistant, and scientists who tried to infect transgenic mice in the same manner after making them express the canine version of the gene had no luck (study can be found here). In wild type mice, the attack rate by the prions was 100%, but in the ones with the canine PRP, the attack rate was 0%.

We're getting a bit closer to our answer, then: clearly dogs have a gene that confers protection to their PRP, and since mind flayers most closely resemble a mammal (despite not reproducing the way humanoids do), the answer to mind flayer immunity would likely lie in the same gene.

As for the gene itself? Turns out, dogs have a codon at this locus that is found in very few other mammals. They contain codons that make, depending on the particular base pairs involved, either ASP (aspartic acid) or GLU (glutamic acid). This is not only rare (to the point of occurring in only a few other mammals), but provides a useful comparison: the PRP cats express is the most similar to a dog's. The feline Prnp gene doesn't include codons to make GLU or ASP. Cats are highly susceptible to prions.

So, while the why is still unknown and the correlation not proven yet as a causal pathway, it seems there is very likely a significant link between GLU/ASP production on that locus and the protection conferred to dogs against prions.

SO, finally, we can answer the question. Could mind flayers be safe while eating a diet of exclusively brains, even if they ate the brain of a creature infected with a prion? Yes, they could, assuming their Prnp gene has codons to produce ASP/GLU proteins as part of their PRP. And really, when you think about it, this would be yet another way illithids would claim to be superior organisms; while humanoids have to worry about an incurable neurodegenerative disease caused by something as trivial as an error in protein folding, illithids are conferred immunity by the ceremorphosis process. So it makes sense for the psychology of mind flayers that they're immune, too. And hell, they might even seek out humans infected with one, given they'd be weaker prey, the same way wolves just love to eat moose infected with a fatal brain parasite- and in turn, just like that protects the rest of the moose herd from being infected, illithids consuming sick humanoids would protect other mammals in the area too. It's certainly the kind of thing goodest squid Omeluum would do.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

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lu-is-not-ok · 9 months ago

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So, Jia Xichun has Gloom for Skill 1, Gluttony for Skill 2 and Envy for Skill 3. What the hell does that mean.

So I wasn't initially going to make a full on analysis, as I don't want to burn myself out on Sin Analyses all over again... But then I thought about it. And thought about it some more... and oh, girl... Oh dear... Oh honey...

So yeah we're doing this

Gloom S1: Gloom as a Sin is associated with negative emotions, dwelling on the past, sinking into despair, and self-destruction. The two Sinners we have with a Gloom S1 - Yi Sang and Gregor - are both people who get easily thrown into reminiscing about their past by seemingly minor happenings, especially Gregor who's quite literally got PTSD.

The easiest way to read this is as a reflection of Xichun's trauma with the Jia Family, and the anxiety she's developed because of it. She's shown to be extremely concerned with building a faction, likely something required of her as one of the candidates for the Family Head, and for a brief moment she even suspects Hong Lu of potentially trying to kill her if she joins up with him, even though Wei points out that Hong Lu is different to the rest of her siblings.

There's also something else I've noticed in the few lines Xichun gets thus far in this Canto - the way she reminisces about her home and past. Unlike Hong Lu, who brings up anecdotes of his life seemingly to try and lighten the mood, unaware that they sound fucking insane to any normal listener, Xichun is very very aware of them being bad memories. And the moments she's pushed into reminiscing seem... very interesting.

The first time is when she manages to shut Hong Lu up and make him stop bothering her by telling him not to embarrass her (which is a line that makes me insane for a completely different reason unrelated to this post), causing her to reminisce and compare Hong Lu's current state to how he was the last time they met.

The second time is when she's failing to extract any useful info from the Priest, comparing the state he's in to the state people tortured by the Jia Family would be reduced to (one of those people likely being Hong Lu himself, judging by his completely silent reaction).

Compare this to the one time Hong Lu reminisces about something towards Xichun. He compares their current predicament, of only temporarily working together, to a truce made over some snacks. He understands what she's saying, he's just either refusing or straight up unable to comprehend the severity of what she's saying. You can tell if she were the one reminiscing here it would be a much darker memory than this.

So.

Xichun is a young woman who was left full of anxiety after having to live in the Jia Household, this anxiety only being made worse by the rivalry she's forced into against her siblings due to circumstances outside of her control.

This anxiety is likely the main cause for her hostility, which acts as her defense mechanism to push people who could harm her away from her, though in the process she ends up sabotaging herself by trying to push away the people who genuinely want to help her, like Hong Lu.

She's a deeply traumatized person, who gets reminded of her family's abuse whenever she sees people around her act in a similar way to the victims of the Jia Family.

That's what I believe her Gloom S1 is meant to reflect.

Gluttony S2: Gluttony as a Sin is associated with hunger, desire, inability to feel satisfied, and in certain cases survival. The two Sinners who have a Gluttony S2 - Gregor and Ishmael - are both heavily tied to survival, being the main focus of the "Survival is a Sin" scene in Canto 1 with Yuri. At the same time though, the object of their Gluttony differs - for Gregor, it's normalcy, a desire to escape the nightmare he lives in, one which he can't reach due to the scars left in him by the Smoke War; for Ishmael, it's finding Ahab, a desire that turns into an obsession with killing a survivor in an act of revenge, one if she were to fulfill would leave her empty and with no other reason to keep on living.

Xichun herself seems to continue the trend of Gluttony being tied to survival, as a lot of how she treats others can be very easily tied into her trying to avoid being picked off by her Family. The main object of desire in Xichun's case appears to be Power.

The first thing Xichun notices and mentions upon seeing Hong Lu is his lack of a well-built faction, and from the way her own posse is described, it seems she herself took the time and effort to build a group that is more than capable of both protecting her and dealing serious harm. She appears to care a lot about the Power numbers give her, especially with how she describes the methods her siblings would use to kill her.

It's not that Yuanchun or her other siblings would personally come after her, no, their Power, and by extention her own, come from the people who surround the siblings. The lackeys, the minions, the faction.

There is also... something else Xichun is searching for in La Manchaland, something that I believe ties back into this desire of hers. Xichun's sole reason for coming all this way is her search for a specific piece of information, and considering her reaction to the story being told by Sansón, it's not impossible for that info to be related to the Rivers of the deep.

...This is where I have to do a bit of speculation, as the Rivers are a part of PM's world we still don't know much about.

Here's what we know for sure about the Rivers:

At least some of them are analogous to the Rivers of Hades, as the River of Oblivion shares the name with one of them, Lethe.

2. The Rivers seem to primarily possess powers that directly influence one's consciousness, whether it be giving one visions of the future that drive them into madness, or completely oblivionize one's identity.

3. Considering the above use of 'well' as a synonym for the Rivers, it's very possible they're Heavily Connected to the Well LobCorp would draw from using Cogito.

So. We don't really know the reason for Xichun to be searching for info on the Rivers. However, from what little we know of what they might be able to do, it's not unlikely her goal is to try and use their Power in some way. It would fit with what we know of her so far, and while our own knowlege is limited, the fact that one of those Rivers was LobCorp's Well shows that when harnessed, they can be incredibly Powerful resources indeed.

So.

Xichun is a person who has been put in a situation where her primary concern is her own survival, as she's put in constant danger by her Family. This has likely led to her developing an unsatiable desire for some form of Power.

This desire primarily manifests itself through Xichun's concern with surrounding herself with powerful people and building her own faction, as it's clear the biggest threat her fellow siblings pose to her is through their own lackeys. Her experience would have clearly taught her that's what being Powerful is all about.

However, due to the nature of this desire as something that cannot be satisfied, a faction is not enough for Xichun. While this is my speculation, I believe this same desire for Power is exactly why Xichun is searching for information on the Rivers within La Manchaland, likely believing that the Power they have would be a highly valuable resource to her.

That's what I believe her Gluttony S2 is meant to reflect.

Envy S3: Envy as a Sin is associated with a sense of inferiority, lack of control and free will, jealousy, and attempts to copy others. The one Sinner with an Envy S3 - Sinclair - is shown to be deeply insecure and easily manipulated into acting a certain way by people who show him attention. He's implied to covet the aura and the kind of presence Demian carries with him, and his fears and feelings of inferiority are the flaw he struggles with the most visibly.

Xichun, at her core, is a deeply insecure person. One of the first things she says about herself is expressing the opinion that she's nowhere close to the level her older siblings are at. She's someone who tries to do what they do, coveting the Power and status they hold, but is unable to match them in her own eyes.

And then. There's this line.

Xichun considers herself to be So below her other siblings, that she sees herself as such a non-threatening figure that there's a chance her siblings would straight up ignore her in their rivalries. This line, I think, exemplifies just how deep and pervasive Xichun's Envy is.

There's also this moment, again further showing her lack of confidence, immediately putting herself down and claiming her prediction is probably wrong the moment she's asked to share it.

So.

Xichun feels a deep sense of inferiority, often comparing herself to her siblings and feeling jealous of their own Power and status. She feels self-conscious about her own lack of those things compared to her Family, to the point where she considers herself completely irrelevant at points of notable weakness.

It's very likely that everything Xichun does stems from that feeling of not being the one in control of the situation, of being so weak that her siblings would feel she's not worth the effort. She needs Power, she needs to be on the same level as her other siblings, because without it, she's considered nothing.

Perhaps it's part of what infuriates her about Hong Lu's behavior. We've seen he's extremely self-sacrificial, willing to just lay down and accept pain simply because he knows why other people would want to inflict that on him. He's someone who seems to put himself in a position of weakness willingly. Of course Xichun would hate seeing that, as someone who doesn't have the choice not to be in a similar position herself.

That's what I believe her Envy S3 is meant to reflect.

I love her. I'm so scared for her.

It makes me wonder if the choice to give her white bits in her hair is meant to invoke the idea of someone's hair turning white prematurely from stress. After all, if there's anyone in the Jia Family who would be stressed to the point of that happening, it would be the one who considers herself the weakest out of all of them...

#ask #anon #lu speaketh #limbus company #canto 7 part 2 #canto 7 part 2 spoilers #canto 7 spoilers #jia xichun lcb #sin analysis #lcb analysis

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caustic--soda · 4 months ago

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Some things I noticed in the S2 outro

⚠️MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD⚠️

Disclaimer: I’m aware I’m missing other stuff that’s been shown in the outro because I’m not very confident with this analysis. Due to this, some of my personal interpretations may be incorrect.

The outro begins with this (mostly) grayscale shot of Sakura with his bangs covering his left eye. I find it interesting how only his right eye is shown; not only does draw attention and provide a nice contrast to the monotone colors, it highlights an aspect of Sakura that he was shunned for.

The next two frames after that showcases Sakura’s fear of abandonment and rejection.

This frame contrast the previous one; it only shows Sakura’s seniors rather than his classmates. The background is green instead of a white void, indicating that they’re the backbone of Furin.

His classmates are shown in the next frame, however.

But Sakura’s pupils only reflect Suo and Nirei. Out of everyone in his community, his vice captains are the most important people to him. Yeah I’m normal

This sequence is particularly interesting to me. Everyone is covered in shadow, with a bright light in the background to enhance the effect; this shows that Sakura is looking at a ‘twisted’ version of his peers, ones who will turn away if he asks for help. Suo, Tsugeura, and Kiryu are looking away from the camera, but Nirei is looking directly at it despite his face being indecipherable—perhaps to allude to Sakura’s guilt.

However, only Sugishita’s face is clear enough to see as there is light shining from above him. It’s important to note that Sugishita isn’t part of Sakura’s world yet (ie. they haven’t ‘gotten along’ and neither of them perceive the other as a friend in this point of the story). I believe this is supposed to represent Sugishita kicking Sakura in chapter 60, which prompts the rest of Class 1-1 to gang up on Sakura.

We see a brief snippet of a cherry blossom branch, representing Sakura himself.

Then we see him falling… into water (more on this later)

It then cuts to a shot of Sakura drenched. It’s interesting how one of the droplets [intentionally] resembles a teardrop, because Sakura hasn’t cried in the manga yet.

The tense scenes switch to a clip of Sakura running against a field, representing the moment in chapter 60 where he finds his place in Furin.

This shot could allude to Sakura’s friends perceiving him as ‘radiant’ in a sense.

We then see Sakura drowning; this is just a Noroshi reference and a massive spoiler lol. However, the water in both contexts represents Sakura’s fears and insecurities.

However, these water droplets soon merge into a wind chime, establishing Sakura’s place in Furin.

TLDR; the outro is one big post KEEL reference which is pivotal mini arc for Sakura as a character

Another interesting I noticed is that in this sequence, Sakura’s hair[style] and eyes have been swapped. I have no idea if this is a production mistake, or a nod to [how gruff] Sakura’s initial character concept was.

#wind breaker #wbk analysis #wbk spoilers #wbk anime #haruka sakura #sakura haruka

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eroguron0nsense · 11 months ago

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The Mysterious Mysteries of Mr Sir Crocodile (Character Analysis)

(Apologies in advance for discrepancies from my usual tone and for holding off on everyone who voted for this on my last poll. Honest to God I hope y'all enjoy this in some capacity because I've been procrastinating on this meta so long it's derailed ALL my other One Piece writing and I only accomplished it through addy-fuelled mania)

This was such a fucking pain to write. I really wanted to say something about Crocodile and what makes him so fascinating that wasn't like, another fan theory or just a set of headcanons, but that's easier said than done?? We could boil it down to immaculate design, screen presence, attitude, or just the fact that he got brought back as an unlikely ally who shocked everyone by saving the protagonist, but I don't know that those factors in and of themselves make for a villain who's become such an object of fandom obsession.

Whatever it is, it's certainly not backstory or depth, because 24 years and hundreds and hundreds of chapters after his introduction, we still know nothing about Sir Crocowani's past beyond a vague confrontation with the Late Great Edward Newgate (that apparently like, ruined his dreams or something?), and some totally-not-just-a-threat-to-out-him-if-he-betrayed-the-alliance blackmail material the Queen of the Queers is holding over his sandy reptilian ass. I was born and grew into adulthood in the time it took Oda to tell the world fuck all about where he's from or his inner thoughts, or his actual honest motivations and traumas.

All we have about this character are questions. Why did he save Luffy and Ace –very conspicuously after both of their lineages were revealed to the world– against all logic and reason? Does he have ties to the revolutionaries? Is he the long-lost son of Rocks D. Xebec? Did he bounce on Comrade Dragon's Monkey D and squirt out the fucking Warrior of Liberation? I assume Oda's going to tell us more about him, but at this point, he's managed to keep a tighter lid on Sir Crocs, Inc.'s past than the fucking Secret History

You may be wondering, dear reader: what the fuck is my point? What is there, at this final stage of Long Running Pirate Manga, for me–Frankie EroGuroNonsense, OP Tumblr Community Z-lister with like, 7 mildly popular meta posts under my belt–to write about the legendary Sir Krokorok that hasn't already been said or theorized? What eagle-eyed observations did I make while rereading Alabasta and writing toxic Crobin fanfic? Am I going anywhere with this? Sorta. Yeah.

Let's start with listing things we actually know about Crockpot, in roughly chronological (??) order: –attended Gol D.'s execution way back when he was my age, along with anyone else who's anyone from his generation.

–At some point, met and was known well enough by Iva that she could effectively blackmail him

–Made it far enough on the Grand Line, somehow getting to the New World, and managed to pick up an 81,000,000 bounty (low end for a warlord, presumably scouted fairly early in his career)

–Wanted to be Pirate King until he gave up on it, not 100% explicitly confirmed but most likely due to getting his ass beat so badly by Whitebeard that he settled for picking off small fry and racketeering behind a government desk job. This makes him profoundly relatable to the rest of us depressed fucking losers who acquiesce to our own mediocrity.

–At 30, after presumably licking his wounds for a hot minute, sets up shop in Alabasta, comes up with a clever evil plan to quietly build up enough arms to conquer the world with a WMD, and then gets his years-long bioterrorist coup attempt foiled by a 17-year-old.

The rest we know: after a brief moment of glory as the unsung MVP of Impel Down/Marineford, he immediately reverts to Failguy Mode, gives all his money to a literal clown, and consequently gets roped into the neverending uncontrollable PR nightmare that is Cross Guild. It's still super vague and we know little to nothing about his past before the Alabasta Saga (for all we know he had a fling with King Cobra)

...Onto his personality and mannerisms. This shit's a lot more revealing. Superficially, he's everything: immaculate Bond villain levels of charismatic villainy, unbelievably ostentatious, dripped out like a Pimp, constantly smoking cigars, absolutely dripping with smugness and grease and disdain. Owns exotic pets and a giant casino, and spends every waking moment either grinning like a maniac when he's got the upper hand or storming around in a fucking mood when anything goes mildly wrong.

He's also pretty hardened underneath all that, obviously couldn't have lived a day on the grand line or survived Impel Down Torture otherwise. But even in Alabasta, Crockery gives off an air of being distinctly more grounded and willing to get his hands dirty than other flashy, established villains who flaunt their wealth and status. A big part of it is just his really hyper-masculine indomitable tough guy persona, but even early on he's very much micromanaging his operation, fighting people hand to hand in (as opposed to, say, Doffy, who literally puppeteers people while lounging around) and makes a point to keep almost all of his followers at a distance and rely on them as little as possible. He rants a bit about how dreams and whatnot are pointless follies, as One Piece antagonists tend to do, and repeatedly taunts Vivi about how her idealism can't save her, but with the context that he wanted to find Laughtale himself, it feels a lot like projection.

The character trait that's harped on a LOT in canon, and probably the most pertinent one to whatever demons he has, is Croconaw's profound pathological distrust for everyone around him. It's a huge part of what makes him a good early foil to the Nefertari family and the Straw Hats, whose collective strength is derived from organic human connection; Crocalor, by contrast, makes sure that up until the very last moment, he keeps most of his people so distant from him that they genuinely have no idea he's even their boss. His relationship with Robin is interesting, but he turns on her immediately when he realizes she either can't or won't give him the location of Pluton and has his dramatic stabbing/"I forgive you" lines about how he never trusted her or anyone from the start. He says the same shit to Mihawk when he suggests they join forces, even citing their mutual distrust as a kind of paradoxical justification for why they'd actually work well together.

Arguably the only exception is Daz Bones, but even that relationship is still a pretty reserved one; one of the few traits Daz exhibits is a similar avoidance of human connections to his boss and even though they've ironically formed a bond despite it, I can't imagine that they're emotionally close. I find these more explicit declarations of paranoia a lot less indicative of what's actually going on in Croconut's head than subtext, but I feel inclined to mention them just because it more or less tells us that his background/trauma has something to do either with betrayal or alternatively just being jaded and deprived to the point of self-isolation.

Krookodile's character gets a little bit more interesting when we get to see him again in Impel Down being a smug little manipulative rascal right up until he gets blackmailed by his endocrinologist, which is definitely medical malpractice but also funny as hell. I also appreciate that literally the first thing he does after getting out of his cell is change into a big coat and cravat to keep up appearances, but it's not until Marineford proper that things get really complicated. Saving Luffy and Ace is the first selfless thing we see Crobat do–while yelling at Luffy that he needs to protect what matters to him properly, no less– and he just keeps fighting for them after that, teaming up with his most hated rival crew to cover Luffy's retreat and telling the entire WG to go fuck itself multiple times over. He fights everyone on sight with no regard for his own safety, talks mad shit to Doffy, and demonstrates a genuinely compelling amount of honest to god chivalry.

For a short time, we see Crocomotive less as a really entertaining cartoon villain and more as a person with hidden, profound emotions and a confusing moral code that's seemingly incompatible with the vicious little creature we met in Alabasta. We come to understand, in a few very brief lines that give us way more questions than answers, that Cromagnon has deep-seated, emotional convictions he actively suppresses, and that whatever baggage he has is probably tied to wanting to or failing to save something of his own. His resentment of Newgate, who he really really wants to have a go at (despite theoretically no longer caring about the ambitions of his youth) is indicative of a desire to revisit the fight that probably ruined his dream and ego, but it's also tinged with a deep-seated grudging respect for a living legend.

Crock–Afire Explosion's obvious seething hatred of Doffy also gives us a few more insights into what's wrong with him. On a surface level, it makes sense that he dislikes a profoundly obnoxious, even flashier fellow warlord who achieved more or less the same goal he set out to in a shorter time, fucks with his business, and then mocks him/tries to recruit him right after his very public defeat and imprisonment. He postures a lot, especially with his lines insisting he's on a higher level and that Doffy could only ever join him as a subordinate, but he's visibly steamed in their initial encounter and clearly hasn't liked him for quite some time. I bring this up because if we stretch our interpretation a little (for the sake of my argument), Croc Holliday's distaste for someone who's (outwardly) so much like himself and embodies all of his villainous characteristics from back in Alabasta might also suggest that deep down, he doesn't actually like the things they have in common; he sees right through Doffy because he's done the same shit and he hates what he sees.

Having gone over all that, I've come up with some key characteristics of Crocomelon that I'll use going forward:

–Extremely performative: puts an ungodly amount of energy into maintaining a carefully curated persona, and projecting a certain amount of power, masculinity, and prestige. Not necessarily an unnatural or inauthentic one, but a constructed and purposeful one nonetheless

–Deep-seated paranoia, hidden secrets; probably intertwined. Keeps personal details on tight, tight lockdown, probably afraid of being known.

–Constant projection of his own insecurities and failures onto other people, making a point to be uniquely cruel in Alabasta to an idealist who loves her people and a dreamer who wants to be the Pirate King.

Ironically, he demonstrably respects and defends two people–Luffy and Whitebeard–who theoretically embody everything he hates or scorns (ambition, goodness, love, connection, romanticism, greatness in the traditional sense) and he intensely dislikes the villain most like himself, or at least the one who shares a lot of his worst characteristics (ostentatious manipulative scheming rat bastard backed by people stronger than himself) –The Grinch's heart grew three sizes at Marineford because of like, the compelling power of brotherly love and reminders of his youth or something

SPECULATION, CONCLUSIONS??

The difficulty with writing anything definitive about Crocko's Basilisk is that he's such a mystery, which functionally lets the fanbase project literally whatever weird personality traits, potential backstories, or anything else they could possibly come up with onto him. So I want to be clear that I have absolutely no interest in theorizing about the specifics of his past or secret identity or potential baby daddy or anything along those lines; I'm only interested in what we can infer about his personality by extrapolating from canon. And the conclusion I keep coming back to, the one that I'm convinced is true on some level, is that Crocodile is living a lie and he fucking hates himself. Everything he does, from how he acts to what he claims to believe, is a desperate effort to cope with his own insecurity and failure and cover up a past version of himself he's deeply ashamed of.

Now, unfortunately, Oda did not conceive of Crocodile as a trans man but stories belong to the people and we can do what we want let's forget about that and play it straight because he's constantly performing gender as a means of compensating for a deep-seated shame and self-loathing from whatever traumas and secrets he keeps hidden. Even assuming he's a cis man, he deliberately chooses a hypermasculine persona with a Capital V Villain moniker and pimp outfit and speech pattern he's carefully curated to project masculine power–physical, political, and financial–and we know it's performance because we see him break kayfabe and get legitimately fucking angry whenever he's confronted by a person like Luffy, who's crazy and brave enough to try and do what he couldn't and risk everything for love and hope that he cannot bring himself to feel for another person, or reminders of the past he tries so desperately to bury.

The lessons he's wrongfully obtained from his past are as follows: Idealism is a weakness. Dreaming is a weakness. Connections to other people and being known are crippling liabilities (If he is, in fact, trans and closeted, that's all the more reason to be existentially disgusted by what he used to be). All the hope he brought to the Grand Line, all the excitement of trying to carry on where Roger left off, needs to be purged and buried because all he got to show for it was loss and humiliation. But he can't stop wanting more, and ironically, after he gives up on conquering the Grand Line, he ends up chasing the same fucking poneglyphs and weapons because his ambition's still there; it's just compromised and much more jaded.

Everything he does that's seemingly contradictory makes sense when you realize that Crocodile resents his failure and wants to avenge himself. He makes a big show of talking down to Luffy and Vivi's petty ideals and shit-talking Newgate and his family, but he still wants to fight Whitebeard like he did way back when and help Luffy protect what matters to him. He hates Doffy, who's honestly just a more successful schemer than he is because it's a constant reminder of what he settled for when he took that warlord post and fucking gave up. He claims to trust no one, but he keeps Daz by his side and rewards his loyalty because he can't help but trust someone who respects him so deeply and follows him to the ends of the fucking earth long after losing the material incentive to do so. He claims to look down on people who aim for the stars and fight for love and joy and freedom and yet, in his most vulnerable moments–not in the face of violence or imprisonment, but when he's emotionally compelled to defend a child and help save his brother–we see how badly he wants that for himself.

TLDR: Crockman Holic is deeply insecure in his masculinity, desperately needs psychological help, and his character/potential redemption arc in One Piece is just dealing with his midlife crisis.

#one piece #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece #donquixote doflamingo #monkey d. luffy #marineford #marineford arc #cross guild #alabasta #op meta #op spoilers #op crocodile #trans crocodile #edward newgate #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard one piece #impel down

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honeydippedfiction · 4 months ago

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Driven By You {JB9}

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Synopsis: Imani Brown, a rising NASCAR star, is determined to prove herself on and off the track, but when she crosses paths with NFL quarterback Joe Burrow, their playful flirtation quickly turns into undeniable chemistry. As they navigate their fast-paced careers, their connection deepens, balancing adrenaline, ambition, and a simmering romance that neither of them can ignore.

Warnings: Mild language, Suggestive themes, Lighthearted adult situations, Brief moments of tension and emotional complexity, Smut. MDNI

Themes: Romance and flirtation, Ambition and career-driven lifestyles, Push and pull dynamics in relationships, Adrenaline-fueled moments (sports and racing), Self-confidence and personal growth, Friendship and camaraderie, Romance, Sports (NASCAR, NFL), Contemporary Fiction, New Adult, Drama, Fluff/Lighthearted

WC: 24.8k

A/N: I told y'all I was gonna write some bullshit for Joe😂

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• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

The 2024-2025 NFL season had been an unrelenting trial for Joe Burrow, the star quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals. From the very first game to the grueling finish, it felt as though every drop of energy, every ounce of mental fortitude, was sapped from him, leaving him to push forward through the constant barrage of challenges. The weight of each play seemed to compound as the weeks wore on, a burden only made heavier by the expectations of an entire city resting on his shoulders. The injuries, each one a silent battle with his own body, had come one after another, forcing him to dig deeper and fight harder. He had watched as games slipped away, each loss a bitter pill that seemed to taste worse than the last. But through it all, he remained the face of hope for the Bengals—a symbol of resilience, determination, and unwavering poise under pressure.

Now, with the off-season finally upon him, there was a strange but undeniable sense of relief. The game, with all its weight and intensity, had momentarily receded into the background. The relentless pressure that had been his constant companion was gone. The roar of the crowd, the ceaseless media coverage, the expectations—everything that came with being Joe Burrow, the football superstar—had quieted, if only for a short while. For the first time in what felt like months, Joe didn’t have to perform, didn’t have to be the polished, unflappable figure the world had come to expect. He didn’t have to be the quarterback who carried the hopes of his city. For the first time in a long while, he could simply be Joe.

The air was different now, lighter somehow. His apartment, usually filled with the buzz of texts, calls, and the endless stream of analysis from coaches and teammates, felt quieter than it ever had. The TV was off, and the phone lay on the counter, face down—an intentional disconnect from the world he’d been so deeply immersed in. Joe stretched his legs out on the couch, the weight of the past season still heavy on his mind, but for once, it was manageable. He could let his thoughts wander without the immediate fear of being overwhelmed.

His phone buzzed suddenly, breaking the stillness. He glanced at the screen, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was a message from Ja'Marr Chase.

“You getting some rest, man?”

Joe leaned back, contemplating for a moment before typing a quick response.

“Yeah, finally. Feels weird.”

He pressed send, then threw the phone down on the coffee table. Ja’Marr had been one of the few constants for him this season—a fellow warrior on the field and a friend off it. Their bond, forged in the heat of competition, was the kind that didn’t need words. Yet, even after the season ended, their connection had remained strong.

The phone buzzed again. This time, it was a call. Joe let it ring, then answered with a half-grin.

“What’s up, Ja’Marr?”

“Man, I knew you’d be up. You don’t know how to turn off, do you?” Ja’Marr’s voice carried that familiar energy, his tone half teasing, half serious.

Joe chuckled, adjusting his position on the couch. “Just enjoying the silence for once. Feels strange.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Ja’Marr replied, the sounds of a bar in the background hinting that he was out with friends. “But you can’t hide forever, bro. You know the grind’s coming back soon.”

Joe sighed, the thought of returning to the grind already starting to weigh on him. It was a complicated relationship he had with the game. On one hand, it was his purpose, his passion. But on the other, it had a way of swallowing him whole, demanding more than he sometimes had to give.

“I know,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But right now, I’m just… trying to breathe for a second. Take it all in. This past season... it’s been a lot.”

Ja’Marr’s voice softened, the teasing edge gone. “I hear you, man. We’ve all been through it. But hey, you got this. You’re built for this.”

Joe smiled again, though there was an edge of exhaustion in his eyes. “Thanks. I just need some time to reset. Be Joe, you know?”

“Yeah,” Ja’Marr said, a laugh escaping him. “The guy who’s not throwing 50-yard bombs on Sundays. I get it.”

For a moment, they both fell into a comfortable silence. There was no need for more words. They understood each other perfectly.

“I’ll catch you later, man,” Ja’Marr said, breaking the silence. “Enjoy the time off. You’ve earned it.”

“Thanks,” Joe replied, ending the call and setting the phone down once more. His fingers traced the edge of the couch, the stillness of the apartment settling around him like a blanket. He could hear the distant hum of traffic outside, the faint sounds of the city continuing on without him. But for now, he wasn’t part of it. He didn’t have to be.

Joe stood up, stretching his arms above his head, letting the quiet moments of the off-season wrap around him like a shield. The weight of the game would return sooner or later. He knew that. But for the time being, he could enjoy this rare gift—this brief hiatus from the unrelenting demands of football. In this moment, he was Joe. Not the quarterback, not the superstar—just a man in need of a break.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, reminding him that time, like the season, would always march on. But for now, he was content to simply let it pass.

The transition to off-season life wasn’t an immediate switch for Joe Burrow. It was more like a slow unraveling—peeling away the layers of intensity and focus that had defined his life for months. The adrenaline, the sharp sense of urgency that accompanied every pass, every call, every decision—it didn’t just vanish overnight. The drive to push himself, to exceed his limits, was ingrained in him, and shedding it felt like trying to escape from a skin that had been tightly fitted for far too long.

For Joe, it was a mental game as much as it was a physical one. His body had been battered and bruised over the course of the season, but his mind? His mind had been in overdrive since the first whistle of training camp. Now, with the final game behind him, the grind of the 2024-2025 season had come to a close. But instead of feeling like a relief, it felt more like a suspension in time, like the space between breaths.

It took time to get used to the quiet. To adjust to the absence of the crowd’s roar and the relentless ticking of the clock that had governed his every move. In the moments following the end of the season, Joe had a rare window of freedom—an opportunity to breathe deeply without the weight of responsibility pressing down on him, without the looming specter of the next game, the next challenge. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t have to be the superstar. He didn’t have to carry the hopes of an entire city on his shoulders.

The first few days after the season wrapped up were spent in the stillness of his home. Joe had always loved his space, but now, it felt almost unfamiliar. The silence was almost deafening after months of noise, both external and internal. He wasn’t accustomed to so much nothing, to the lack of the constant rhythm of the game, the demands of practice, and the endless feedback from coaches, teammates, and analysts.

He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for hours, coffee cup in hand, watching the steam curl up from the surface. He had always been a morning person, the quiet hours of dawn offering him clarity, but now, it felt different. His usual routine was gone—no early workouts, no strategy sessions, no hours spent pouring over film. His mind, usually consumed by the game, now wandered freely, drifting from one thought to the next. It was almost liberating, this newfound space, but also a little unsettling. He had spent so long in a hyper-focused state that now, without the structure, the time felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

One morning, after finishing his coffee, he grabbed his phone and scrolled through a few text messages. There was a message from Ja'Marr Chase, as expected. Joe smiled as he opened it.

“Enjoying the peace and quiet yet, or are you already thinking about next season?”

Joe chuckled softly, knowing Ja’Marr well enough to hear the playful tone through the screen. He typed back a quick reply.

“Trying to, man. It’s a weird feeling, not having everything mapped out for me.”

He put his phone down and stared out the window, watching as the sunlight filtered through the trees in his front yard. The neighborhood was quiet—peaceful, even. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the simplicity of it all. The hustle and bustle of the season had consumed him, and now, everything seemed to slow down in stark contrast. There was something about walking down a quiet street, without the weight of impending games on his shoulders, that was oddly soothing.

As the day wore on, Joe found himself outside more often than he’d expected. He took long walks around the neighborhood, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, the cool breeze brushing past him. It was almost like rediscovering a world that had been there all along, but one that he hadn’t had time to notice before. The simple things—the way the leaves rustled in the wind, the sound of kids laughing in the distance, the smell of freshly cut grass—these were the things Joe had taken for granted. Now, they filled the quiet gaps left by the absence of football.

It wasn’t long before Joe realized he was catching up with the people he had neglected over the course of the season. His phone buzzed again, this time with a call from his mom. He answered with a warm smile.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Joe! How are you?” her voice came through, full of warmth and familiarity. “I can’t believe the season’s finally over. It’s about time you take a break!”

Joe laughed, leaning against the side of his house. “Yeah, it feels like I’m still adjusting to it. It’s strange not having to rush from one thing to the next.”

“Good! You deserve some time to rest. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“I’ve been trying to,” he replied, looking at the horizon where the sun was starting to dip low. “Just... soaking it all in, you know? Trying to figure out what comes next.”

“Well, take your time,” she said, her voice softening. “I know how much you put into this season. We’re all so proud of you.”

Joe smiled, a sense of warmth spreading through him. It wasn’t just the praise that he craved, but the connection to those who had always been there—his family, his friends, the people who remembered Joe before he became the face of a franchise. He realized how much he had missed these quieter moments, these connections that weren’t built on game-winning drives or accolades, but on something much simpler—love, support, and the unspoken understanding that life was about more than just football.

Later, he called up a few of his old friends from college, laughing at their familiar jokes and easy banter. They talked about everything and nothing—everything except the season he had just endured. For the first time in months, Joe didn’t feel like he had to measure up to anything. He could just be Joe, the guy who had once thrown touchdowns under the floodlights of college stadiums, who had once sat around a table in a dorm room, dreaming of the NFL with the same friends now asking him how his day was going.

As the evening settled in, Joe found himself on the couch, staring at the TV but not really watching it. He was lost in thought, the day’s interactions playing through his mind like a highlight reel. A sense of peace washed over him, but it wasn’t without a tinge of longing. The quiet was both soothing and empty. The game would call him back eventually, and he would answer it without hesitation, without fear. But for now, in this rare and fleeting moment, he had the luxury of simply being Joe. Not the quarterback. Not the face of the Bengals. Just Joe. And that was enough.

As the days passed after the season’s end, Joe Burrow found himself adjusting to the quiet in ways he hadn’t expected. At first, the stillness had been a welcome relief. After months of non-stop action, both physical and mental, the absence of the daily grind was a rare and precious gift. But as the hours stretched into days, the silence began to settle around him like a heavy fog. It was almost as if the world outside his own head had gone on without him, and he was left standing still, disconnected from the rhythm of life.

He tried to fill the space with small tasks—organizing his kitchen, catching up on old movies, flipping through books he hadn’t had time to read during the season. But it wasn’t enough. He needed something more—something that would reconnect him to the world beyond the confines of his thoughts and the empty quiet of his home. Something that would reignite that spark of excitement, of energy, that he had always felt when surrounded by his teammates, the roar of the crowd, the rush of competition.

The bright California sun hung in the sky, beating down on the bustling city as Joe Burrow walked out of the hotel. He was looking forward to some downtime after a long season, but when Sam Hubbard pulled him aside, a familiar twinkle in his eyes, Joe couldn’t help but feel a little more excited for the weekend ahead.

“Hey, Joe, got something for you,” Sam said with a grin, throwing an arm around his teammate’s shoulder. “You into NASCAR?”

Joe raised an eyebrow, not exactly known for his racing knowledge, but Sam’s enthusiasm was contagious. He had a feeling that this wasn’t just a casual invite. “Uh, not really, but I’m always up for something new,” Joe replied, intrigued.

“Well, perfect timing,” Sam said, pulling out his phone and swiping through it quickly before holding it up to Joe. “You’re coming to the NASCAR Cup Series StraightTalk Wireless 400 this weekend. I’ve got a couple of extra tickets and thought you’d enjoy it. Some of the guys are going—Ja’Marr, Tee, and a few others—and it’s gonna be a good time. Besides,” Sam added with a playful smirk, “you might get to see someone special.”

Joe’s stomach did a little flip at Sam’s words. The mention of "someone special" was enough to make him pause. He knew exactly who Sam was talking about. The memory of Imani—her fierce competitiveness, that smile, and the way she could make him feel like the world had shrunk to just the two of them—still lingered in his mind.

He gave Sam a pointed look. “Imani’s racing this weekend?”

Sam nodded, already reading the unspoken answer in Joe’s eyes. “You’re quick. She’s actually leading the championship, too. It’s gonna be a huge weekend for her. Thought you might wanna be there for it.”

A small grin crept onto Joe’s face, but he quickly masked it. “Alright, I’m in. When do we leave?”

Flashback

The crisp autumn air was thick with anticipation as the Cincinnati Bengals prepared for their home game against the Las Vegas Raiders. The stadium, buzzing with the energy of fans tailgating outside, was electric. Inside the locker room, the team was gearing up, focusing on the game ahead. But amid the usual chaos of pre-game preparation, a different kind of energy entered the room.

The door swung open, and in stepped Imani Brown, the cousin of Orlando Brown Jr., wearing a wide smile that lit up the room. With the kind of presence that made heads turn without effort, Imani walked in, looking every bit the confident, playful woman she was, dressed casually but in a way that still drew attention. Her eyes sparkled with a sense of mischief, and she carried herself with the kind of easy charisma that made her immediately likable.

Imani's voice rang out, full of energy. "Hey, hey, hey! What's up, fellas? Imani Brown, nice to meet y'all!"

The room fell quiet for a split second, everyone’s eyes shifting toward her. She wasn’t just another visitor; there was something magnetic about her. Orlando, who had been standing near the entrance, threw an arm around her shoulders and grinned at the guys.

“Alright, alright, fellas, calm down,” Orlando teased, flashing a big smile. “This is my cousin, Imani. You know, NASCAR driver, speed demon, the one who actually knows how to take a turn at 200 miles per hour.”

Imani let out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Orlando’s just mad I beat him at Mario Kart last night. Don’t listen to him.”

The team chuckled, some of the players giving Imani a good-natured look as they sized her up. But Joe Burrow, who had been tying his cleats at his locker, couldn't help but glance up at the sound of her voice. It wasn’t just her striking beauty—though, of course, that was undeniable—it was the way she carried herself with such ease, like she was at home in any room. Playful, but sharp, like she was always ready to throw out a quick joke or challenge someone to a good-natured competition.

She caught Joe’s gaze and grinned. "And you must be Joe Burrow, the man of the hour," she said, her voice smooth but teasing, almost like she’d known him for years.

Joe blinked, slightly thrown off by the directness and charm in her words. He quickly stood up from his seat, adjusting his jersey and trying to keep his cool. “Yeah, that’s me,” he replied, offering a grin in return. His pulse quickened for a moment, but he pushed it down. She was Orlando’s cousin, after all.

Imani stepped closer, her eyes lighting up as she looked him over with that playful gleam. “I’ve heard all about you,” she said, her tone mischievous. “I’m impressed. You can actually throw a football, huh?”

Joe laughed, not entirely sure where this was going. "I try my best," he said, trying to play it cool.

“Well, I’ll be the judge of that. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two about your game,” she quipped, her voice teasing but with an undertone of genuine curiosity. She glanced at Orlando, then back at Joe. “After all, I’m in town for a little bit of downtime, so why not take up a new hobby?”

Joe was still trying to catch his breath from the initial surprise of meeting her, but her energy was infectious. She had this effortless charisma, like she could walk into any room and instantly make people feel at ease, but also like she was ready to push buttons and see who could keep up. Joe, with his steady demeanor, found himself intrigued and a little charmed.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” Joe said with a laugh, shrugging. “If you’re really interested in learning how to throw a perfect spiral.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can handle a football,” she teased. “It’s just the whole ‘tackling’ thing that I’m not so sure about.”

“You’ll be fine,” Joe said, his smile broadening. “You’d probably be more dangerous on the track than out here.”

“True,” Imani said, her expression playful. “But hey, you guys should really try something new, like a NASCAR race. You know, feel the wind in your face while you’re taking turns at insane speeds. Could be a bonding experience.”

The room was alive with laughter, players giving their approval of the idea. Imani’s infectious laughter and her quick wit had won everyone over in an instant.

Joe couldn’t help but find himself captivated by her presence. There was something about how she carried herself—confident but not overbearing, playful but sharp. And though they were from very different worlds, he couldn’t deny the way she made everything feel a little bit lighter. The usual pre-game tension in the air seemed to dissipate, replaced by the warmth of her easy going nature.

“So, what exactly are you doing in town? I mean, aside from torturing your cousin?” Joe asked, leaning against his locker as he tried to keep the conversation going.

Imani grinned, her eyes sparkling with that signature mix of charm and mischief. "Well, I’m just visiting Orlando for a bit, catching up before I get back to the grind. The Cup Series just wrapped up yesterday, and finishing second in the championship felt good—really good—but now it's time for some downtime. NASCAR’s all about speed, but hey, I’m always up for some good company and new experiences." She shrugged playfully, letting the weight of her words sink in. "Besides, what better way to spend my offseason than being a menace with my cousin?"

Her tone was light, but there was an undeniable pride in her voice, an acknowledgment of the immense effort she had put into the season. Being second in the championship was no small feat, and Imani had earned her spot among the best in the sport. But for now, she was soaking in the rare moments of freedom, not letting the pressures of racing consume her just yet.

“You definitely picked the right crowd,” Joe replied with a grin. “We’re good at keeping things interesting.”

“I can tell,” Imani said with a wink. “Well, I won’t keep you guys too long. I know you’ve got a game to play.” She turned to give Orlando a quick hug. “But if anyone here needs tips on speed, you know where to find me.”

The whole room was still chuckling as Imani made her way toward the door. Just before she left, she looked over her shoulder at Joe, her eyes glinting with that same mischievous spark.

“Good luck, Joe. I’ll be watching. Maybe I’ll race you one day.”

Joe’s smile didn’t fade as he watched her leave, a part of him already looking forward to whatever encounter might come next.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Orlando slapped Joe on the back. “Man, you better start practicing those football skills if you want to keep up with her.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not worried. But I do think I just met my match.”

Orlando chuckled. “She’s got that effect on people.”

The game against the Las Vegas Raiders had been intense, every moment filled with the kind of adrenaline that only NFL games could offer. The crowd roared as the Bengals secured their victory, the stadium electric with the high of the win. Joe Burrow, still on the field, was drenched in sweat and adrenaline, but there was a feeling of pure satisfaction hanging in the air. The whole team was riding the high of a solid performance, and Joe, though he was always calm and collected on the outside, was no different. His eyes were sharp with excitement, his heart racing, but not entirely from the game.

It had been hours since he’d last seen Imani, and his mind kept drifting back to their encounter in the locker room. Her playfulness, the way her eyes sparkled when she’d joked about beating Orlando at Mario Kart, and how effortlessly she’d bantered with the team—it had all left an impression. He was a professional, he knew how to compartmentalize, but something about Imani lingered with him. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something more, even if the playful teasing had made it all feel lighthearted.

Later that evening, after the adrenaline of the game had settled down, Joe found himself texting his teammates about grabbing a celebratory dinner. He needed a break, some time to unwind, and he knew the guys wouldn’t turn down the offer. As he was typing out the plans, his phone buzzed with a message that made him smile.

Imani Brown:

"Well, well, well... looks like you all came through with the win. I guess you earned it after all that talk earlier. ;) What’s the plan for the night? I think a celebration is in order. And maybe... you can show me how to throw that perfect spiral you promised?"

Joe grinned, tapping out a quick response.

"Celebration sounds good to me. Join us? We’re all heading to that spot downtown. Should be fun. And don’t worry, I’ll teach you all the moves. But don’t expect me to go easy on you."

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

Imani Brown:

"Oh, I like that. Let’s see if you can keep up."

Joe leaned back in his chair, his mind racing, but not from the game anymore. It was her. He couldn’t help the thrill that ran through him. There was something about Imani—her energy, her playful challenge—that drew him in. And the way they’d clicked so easily, almost like they had their own little rhythm going, even in such a short time. He knew she was trouble in the best way possible.

A few hours later, the group of offensive players met up at the restaurant, the celebration atmosphere buzzing as they filed into the private dining room. The laughter, cheers, and clinking of glasses filled the air, but Joe’s eyes were trained on one person. Imani walked in, looking effortlessly stylish, her presence making the room seem a little brighter. Her eyes locked with his across the room, and that familiar, teasing glint flashed.

“Hey, Joe,” she greeted, her tone light, but there was an undercurrent there. She was flirting, but in that playful way that kept everything feeling like a game. "Good game today. I gotta admit, I didn’t think you had it in you."

Joe laughed, his heart beating a little faster than it should. "You didn't think I could pull it off? I'll show you."

She winked, taking a seat next to him at the long table, the buzz of the room fading slightly as they settled into a conversation that felt like they were in their own world. The other players were busy talking about highlights from the game, but it was as though Joe and Imani were on a different wavelength.

“So, you’re telling me, you didn’t even break a sweat out there?” she teased, glancing over at him with a playful smirk.

“Not even,” Joe shot back, not missing a beat. “It’s all part of the plan. You know, keeping my cool while everyone else loses their heads.”

Imani raised an eyebrow, leaning in just slightly. “Is that so? You know, I could probably make you break a sweat… in a different kind of race.”

Joe chuckled, his eyes narrowing in playful challenge. “I’m always up for a race. But I’ll warn you, I’m fast on the field.”

“I’m fast everywhere, Joe,” she shot back, her voice smooth and confident, the words hanging in the air between them with a double meaning. "But we can test that theory anytime."

The flirtation hung heavy between them, subtle but undeniable. She was teasing him, challenging him, but there was something more—something beneath the surface that neither of them had quite addressed yet. It was there in the way their eyes lingered just a little longer than necessary, in the way they played off each other's words, in the way Imani’s laugh seemed to warm Joe's insides.

As the night wore on, the group moved from casual conversation to louder laughs and toasts, but Joe couldn’t keep his attention away from Imani. She was just as easygoing with everyone else, but with him, there was an undeniable chemistry that he couldn’t shake. Her words were always a little bit sharp, her challenges playful, and he found himself leaning into it, wanting more of whatever it was between them.

The night ended, but neither of them was in any rush to say goodbye. The dinner had been a success, and as the group spilled out onto the sidewalk, Joe and Imani lingered toward the back, just far enough to have a conversation without the noise of the group.

"So," Joe began, his voice casual, though there was a spark in his eyes. "You sure you're ready to race me? 'Cause I’m not gonna go easy just because you’re a racecar driver."

Imani laughed, a low sound that sent a ripple of warmth through him. “Oh, I don’t want you to go easy on me,” she said, her voice playful but full of confidence. “I’m just warning you. You might not be able to handle it.”

Joe leaned closer, a teasing smile on his lips. “We’ll see about that. Next time, though, I’ll make sure we have the right race. No holding back.”

Imani’s eyes gleamed. “No promises,” she said, her voice softening for a split second before she added, “You know, you’re not half bad at this whole flirting thing.”

Joe’s grin widened. “You think I’m flirting?”

Imani shrugged, but her smile told him everything he needed to know. "Maybe just a little."

Before either of them could say more, the others were already shouting from down the street, ready to head to another spot. Imani gave Joe one last lingering look, her gaze teasing, but with something deeper beneath the surface that neither of them was quite ready to admit.

"Don’t keep me waiting too long, Joe,” she called, her voice over her shoulder, and then she was off with Orlando and the others, leaving Joe standing there, a smile still playing on his lips.

As he walked toward the group, he knew it—there was something between them. It wasn’t just the playful banter, the teasing. There was real chemistry bubbling just under the surface, something that neither of them could ignore for much longer.

End of Flashback

Sam didn’t do anything halfway. This wasn’t just a casual trip; it was an all-in experience—everything curated to make sure it was memorable. Joe appreciated the effort. It felt good to let someone else take charge for once, to have a break from being the one responsible for making all the decisions.

The anticipation of the trip started to build. The next few days passed in a blur of packing and organizing his things, and before he knew it, Joe found himself boarding the plane to Miami, his mind finally turning off from football for the first time in what felt like forever.

A few days later, Joe Burrow found himself standing in the bright Miami sun, the warmth of the air wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. His sunglasses were perched low on his nose, and he couldn’t help but take a deep breath, letting the heat wash over him. It was a welcome sensation after months spent in the chill of football-induced cold fronts, his body constantly wrapped in layers to fend off the harsh winter. The sharp contrast felt almost foreign, a reminder that life existed outside the demands of football season.

He walked towards the terminal, the bustling airport alive with activity. Families chatted in excited voices about their vacation plans, groups of friends shared laughter, and fans in race-day gear buzzed about the upcoming NASCAR Cup Series race. It was the first real taste of freedom Joe had felt in months. No game plans to study, no weight of responsibility pressing on his shoulders. Just the open space of a weekend to do whatever he wanted, wherever it would take him.

NASCAR wasn’t a sport Joe followed religiously, but Sam’s enthusiasm had a way of pulling him in. Over the past few days, the excitement had become infectious. The idea of stepping out of his own world and into something completely different felt exhilarating. It wasn’t a football field, but the energy was unmistakably similar—the race, the fans, the thrill of speed and adrenaline.

He made his way through the terminal with Sam at his side, the duo moving in sync through the sea of people. Miami’s vibrant atmosphere had a pulse, the city alive with color and energy. Palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, their green fronds almost beckoning Joe into a different pace of life, a life that didn’t revolve around touchdowns and fourth-quarter comebacks. He relished the unfamiliarity of it all, the anonymity of not being the center of attention for once. It was rare for Joe, the face of the Bengals, to stand in the background. But right now, he didn’t need the spotlight. He needed this break—this moment of peace where he could simply exist without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Palm trees lined the terminal’s windows, their green fronds lazily swaying in the breeze, casting long shadows over the concrete floor. Joe let his gaze wander as they passed the large glass doors leading to the outside. The Miami skyline stretched out before him, the buildings gleaming under the sun, their colors and shapes as bold as the city itself. It was a far cry from Cincinnati—where it seemed like the world was always watching him.

But here? Here, he could breathe. No pressure. No cameras constantly snapping. Just him, Sam, and a day ahead of them to explore the city without worrying about football for a few hours. Joe couldn't help but smile as he thought about how rare moments like this were. He wasn’t Joe Burrow, the quarterback, for a change. He was just Joe.

Sam, noticing Joe's relaxed demeanor, shot him a sideways grin. "You good, man?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. Sam was always a step ahead, as usual, picking up on the small things that most people missed.

Joe nodded, adjusting the strap of his backpack. "Yeah, just taking it all in," he said, his eyes sweeping across the airport. "Feels good to be anonymous for once."

Sam laughed, slapping Joe lightly on the back. "Not a bad thing, huh? Miami’s got a vibe, no doubt. But, let’s be real—we’re here for fun, so let’s make it count."

As they walked toward the baggage claim area, the two met up with Ja'Marr and Tee, who were already waiting with their own bags in hand. Ja'Marr’s easy smile was the first thing Joe noticed—he was always one to bring an infectious energy, and Tee was right there with him, his laid-back attitude contagious.

"You guys ready for today?" Ja'Marr asked, clapping Joe on the shoulder as they all gathered together.

"Yeah, man," Joe replied, his voice relaxed. "What’s the plan?"

"We’re thinking of hitting up a few spots around South Beach," Tee said with a grin. "Maybe grab some food, hit the boardwalk, then we’ll head to a rooftop bar. You know, a little Miami experience."

Joe chuckled. "Sounds good to me. As long as it’s nothing too crazy." He didn’t need a party scene—he just wanted to enjoy the day without worrying about anything.

The group of four spent the rest of the day soaking up the sights, the salty air, and the sun-drenched streets of Miami. They wandered around, popping into cafés, enjoying the cool breeze off the water, and laughing at ridiculous tourist shops. Tee and Ja'Marr were in their element, cracking jokes and challenging each other to silly dares, while Joe simply took it all in, appreciating the easy camaraderie and the chance to be a regular guy for once.

By the time the sun started to set, the group had made their way to a rooftop bar. The golden hour painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, and the city’s skyline gleamed in the fading light. They grabbed drinks, found a cozy spot, and sat back to relax. Joe leaned back in his chair, his mind drifting away from football as he let himself enjoy the present moment. This break—this escape—felt like a breath of fresh air.

As the evening wound down, the guys started to head back to their hotel. There was no rush, no urgency to their steps. For once, there was no game looming over their heads, no practice to worry about. Joe had enjoyed the day more than he’d expected, but as the last traces of daylight disappeared and the night took over the city, he felt a longing for the quiet comfort of his hotel room.

Once back in the hotel, Joe stood in the hallway for a moment, catching his breath before sliding his key card into the door of his room. The low hum of the air conditioner greeted him, a welcome sound in the stillness of the space.

Joe dropped his bag on the bed and kicked off his shoes. He stretched out on the plush mattress, the cool sheets offering immediate relief from the day’s heat. His body sank into the bed as he let out a long, contented sigh, the weight of the past season—everything he’d pushed through to get to this point—finally slipping away for a few hours.

—

The day had been long, filled with practice laps and the usual rush that came with preparing for the NASCAR Cup Series race. Miami was buzzing with its usual energy, but as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Imani found herself feeling the exhaustion of the day. She’d given it everything on the track, and now, she just wanted to unwind. It was rare for her to get a breather, especially after a season that had left her with so much to prove.

She collapsed onto the bed in her hotel room, scrolling through her phone, idly browsing through social media when a thought crossed her mind. Joe Burrow. She hadn’t heard from him in a bit, and after a few moments of deliberation, she decided it was time to change that.

Imani’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as she typed a message, her lips curling into a playful smirk. She could feel the familiar mix of teasing and tension simmering between them as she hit send.

Imani Brown:"So, I hear you’re in Miami. And you didn’t think to invite me to dinner? I’m a little disappointed, Joe."

She leaned back, tapping her fingers on the edge of the bed, her heart beating just a bit faster. She knew what she was doing—teasing him, pulling him in—but there was something about Joe that always made her second-guess whether their playful banter might actually lead to something more.

It didn’t take long for her phone to buzz with a reply.

Joe Burrow:"I didn’t think you’d have time for me with all that racing you do."

Imani chuckled softly at his response, leaning her head back against the pillow. Typical Joe—always making light of things, always playful. But she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

Imani Brown:"You know me too well. But I do have a little time to spare. So, what’s your excuse for not inviting me?"

Her fingers lingered over the phone screen for a moment before she hit send, a sly smile tugging at her lips. She couldn’t wait to see how he’d respond, knowing full well that their back-and-forth had become something of a dance between them—flirtation laced with just the right amount of tension.

A few moments passed, and she was beginning to think he wasn’t going to reply when her phone lit up again.

Joe Burrow:"Well, now that you mention it, I’m not opposed to dinner. How about something quick? Gotta be up early for the game tomorrow."

Imani’s grin spread wider. This was exactly the kind of dynamic she loved with him—easygoing, but with an undercurrent of something more.

Imani Brown:"Quick dinner? You mean I only have a limited window to impress you?"

Her fingers danced over the keys, the playful teasing now mixed with a hint of challenge. She knew she had him intrigued, but the question lingered in her mind: Would this dinner just be another round of teasing, or would it go deeper?

Not long after, Joe’s response came through.

Joe Burrow:"I think you’ll manage to impress me. But we’ll keep it casual—just you, me, and some food. You in?"

Imani’s heart skipped a beat at the casual way he phrased it, but she wasn’t about to back down. She had to keep things interesting.

Imani Brown:"You better believe I’m in. But don’t think I’m going easy on you."

She hit send, not bothering to hide her smile this time. There was something about Joe that made her feel alive, like every interaction with him carried a charge.

Her phone buzzed once more.

Joe Burrow:"Alright then. I’ll pick you up in 30."

Imani stood up, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair. The excitement in her chest was palpable—this was going to be fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let herself have a completely casual night out, and with Joe? It had the potential to be more than just dinner.

She slipped her phone into her pocket, feeling the anticipation build as she headed for the door. Her mind was buzzing with questions, none of which had clear answers—Would tonight be just another dinner? Or would something shift between them?

But with Joe, she knew better than to expect anything just anything.

Thirty minutes later, Imani stood outside her hotel, the warm Miami air swirling around her. Her mind wandered for a moment, trying to anticipate what the night might bring, but before she could settle into her thoughts, she spotted Joe pulling up in his car.

He rolled down the window as she approached, flashing a grin. "Ready to let me impress you with my choice of restaurant?" he teased, his eyes sparkling.

Imani raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Let’s see what you’ve got, Burrow. You’ve got a reputation to uphold."

Joe chuckled, giving her a nod. "I’m sure I’ll pass your test. Get in."

She slid into the passenger seat, and the ride to the restaurant was filled with light chatter. The comfortable silence between them told her that this wasn’t just a dinner; it was something more, though neither of them was quite ready to admit it.

When they arrived, the restaurant was quiet, the perfect spot for an intimate, low-key meal. Joe held the door open for her with a grin. “After you, my lady.”

Imani rolled her eyes dramatically but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You really know how to charm a girl.”

Joe shrugged, playing it cool. “It’s all part of my plan.”

The dinner began with the same banter that had been present from the first moment they met—flirty, lighthearted, and teasing. Imani leaned forward across the table, her eyes locked with Joe’s. “So, how’s the Miami nightlife? You out here for fun, or is this just a business trip?”

Joe grinned, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the table. “Mostly business. You know, checking out the competition for tomorrow. But now that you’re here, I’d say it’s more fun than I expected.”

Imani raised an eyebrow. “I’m your fun? That’s a bold statement, Burrow.”

“I’m just being honest,” Joe replied, his smile never leaving his face. “You’ve got a way of making things interesting.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the playful banter fell away. There was something unspoken between them, a pull neither of them could quite ignore. But Imani wasn’t the type to let things get too serious too fast, so she leaned back with a grin, breaking the moment.

“Alright, alright. But don’t get too comfortable. I still have to race tomorrow, and I need all the focus I can get.”

Joe chuckled. “I think you’ll be fine. And hey, if you ever need a good luck charm, you know where to find me.”

Imani smiled, but the teasing glint in her eyes didn’t fade. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As they finished their meal, the conversation drifted back to their usual playful teasing, but beneath it, something was shifting. Maybe it was the quiet moments between the words, the way their gazes lingered just a little longer than necessary. Whatever it was, Imani knew she was starting to look forward to these dinners, these little moments of connection that felt like they might turn into something more.

By the time the check came and they walked outside, the night air felt a little cooler, but the warmth between them hadn’t faded. Imani couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this was just the beginning of whatever this was between them.

“Thanks for dinner, Joe,” she said, slipping her sunglasses on. “This was fun. But, I’ll warn you, next time we race, I’m winning. No mercy.”

Joe grinned, his eyes full of that familiar spark. “I’ll be ready.”

And as they parted ways, neither of them said it aloud, but they both knew: this wasn’t just a quick dinner anymore. There was something there—something real, something they both couldn’t ignore much longer.

—

As they neared the racetrack, the sound of engines revving in the distance echoed through the air. The buzz of excitement was palpable, a crescendo of noise that seemed to grow louder with every step. Joe’s heart picked up a beat. It was like the anticipation before a big game, except now he wasn’t the one with the helmet on, ready to step onto the field. He was just a spectator, standing on the edge of something unfamiliar but equally thrilling.

Sam nudged Joe with his elbow as they approached the entrance. “You ready for this?” he asked, his grin widening. “You’ve got a whole new world of speed to discover, Burrow.”

Joe smirked, his eyes scanning the scene ahead. “Let’s do it,” he said, the words a promise.

They passed through security, slipping into the thrumming crowd that flowed toward the paddock area. The atmosphere was electric, charged with an energy that was distinct from anything Joe had ever experienced on a football field. The air was thick with the smell of fuel and the hum of pit crews in motion. There was a precision to it all, a kind of organized chaos. Joe had always admired the meticulous details of football—how each play required not only physical effort but the coordination of an entire team working together, each move calculated and executed in harmony. Here, in the paddock, the same kind of focus was evident. It wasn’t just about speed. It was about timing, strategy, and the perfect execution of every moment.

Sam and Joe weaved through the crowd, their destination now clear. The paddock was a maze of shiny race cars, each one glinting in the Miami sun. Pit crews, clad in matching uniforms, hustled between the cars, fine-tuning engines and preparing the vehicles for the race ahead. Drivers, too, moved with purpose, their faces set in expressions of quiet intensity. It was the kind of atmosphere that reminded Joe of the locker room before a game—everyone focused, everyone with a job to do, and no room for distraction.

As they moved deeper into the paddock, a tall man with a clipboard and a calm, professional air approached them. His polo shirt, emblazoned with the Hendrick Motorsports logo, marked him as someone important in the world of NASCAR. He extended a hand with a confident smile.

“Sam, Joe, welcome!” The man’s handshake was firm, his presence commanding yet friendly. “I’m Brad, a representative here at Hendrick Motorsports. We’re thrilled to have you both with us this weekend. You ready to experience the race from behind the scenes?”

Joe shook Brad’s hand, the grip strong but warm. He felt a surge of genuine curiosity rising within him. “Absolutely,” he replied, his voice filled with interest. “This is a whole new world for me, but I’m excited to see how it all comes together.”

Brad nodded, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “You’re in for a treat. NASCAR is a machine of its own. Everything is a blend of precision, speed, and strategy. You’ll get to see firsthand just how much goes into it. Tee and Ja’Marr are already here and we will go join them..”

Sam grinned at Joe, his expression filled with the kind of excitement only someone who had experienced NASCAR firsthand could understand. “Trust me, you’re gonna love it. There’s nothing like being this close to the action.”

As they followed Brad deeper into the paddock, Joe was struck by the intensity of the environment. The cars, sitting low to the ground, seemed almost ready to spring to life, their engines rumbling in anticipation. The pit crews worked with a fluidity that reminded him of football practices, where every second mattered and precision was everything. The race was about to begin, and it was clear that every person here—from the drivers to the engineers to the tire changers—was part of something much larger than just the race itself. It was a team effort, much like his own world of football.

Brad led them to a small area at the edge of the paddock, where several drivers were gathered. They were dressed in their racing suits, their faces relaxed but focused, their minds undoubtedly on the race ahead. As the group of drivers turned to greet them, Joe felt the familiar stirrings of competition—of athletes who lived for the moment, who thrived under pressure, who understood what it meant to push the limits of what was possible.

The sun was beginning to dip low in the Miami sky, casting long shadows across the bustling racetrack as the noise of engines and the hum of the crowd filled the air. Joe Burrow, Sam Hubbard, and the rest of the crew had made their way toward the Hendrick Motorsports area. The energy around the track was electric, and Joe could feel the adrenaline buzz through the air. He’d never been to a NASCAR race before, and despite the whirlwind of excitement surrounding him, his mind kept wandering back to one person: Imani.

Joe’s eyes darted around, scanning the area near the garages, trying to catch a glimpse of her. He wasn’t sure what it was—whether it was her confidence, the way she carried herself, or just the spark she exuded, but he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. He didn’t want to admit it, but it wasn’t just the racing he was eager to see today—it was her. He felt a slight tug of something that he couldn’t quite name, but whatever it was, it had been growing ever since their dinner together in Miami.

Sam noticed Joe’s wandering gaze and raised an eyebrow. “You lookin’ for something, Joe?” he asked, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.

Joe quickly glanced at him and then tried to shift his focus. “No, just looking around. Trying to get the lay of the land.”

Tee Higgins, who had been walking next to them, caught on right away. He shot a sly look at Sam and then at Joe. “Uh-huh, sure, man. You sure you’re not looking for a certain race car driver?” Tee grinned, nudging Joe with his elbow.

Joe let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “I’m not ‘looking’ for anyone.” He could already feel his teammates getting ready to pile on with their usual teasing. The truth was, he had been thinking about Imani—probably more than he’d like to admit—but he wasn’t about to let them see that.

Ja'Marr Chase, always the joker of the group, couldn’t help himself. “Man, we all saw you at dinner last night. You didn’t think we noticed?” Ja'Marr threw his arm around Joe’s shoulders, laughing. “Looking a little too comfortable, huh?”

Joe shot him a sideways glance, trying to keep a straight face. “You guys are ridiculous. It was just dinner.”

“Just dinner?” Sam echoed. “You were practically glowing. I’ve never seen you that way over a meal before.”

Tee snorted. “Oh yeah, totally. Definitely not just dinner.”

Joe rolled his eyes, not even bothering to deny it. He knew his teammates wouldn’t let it slide, and honestly, a part of him enjoyed the playful teasing. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel the heat rise to his face every time they poked at him.

The group rounded a corner, and there, near the Hendrick Motorsports paddock area, Casey—one of the team reps—was standing, scanning the crowd. Casey was an expert at navigating the chaos of a race day and always had a keen eye for knowing where to be and when. When he spotted the guys, he waved them over with a friendly grin.

“Hey, fellas,” Casey greeted them. “Looking forward to the race? Big day ahead.”

“We’re ready,” Sam said, his voice light with excitement. “This place is insane.”

Ja'Marr nodded toward the track. “It’s wild, man. Never seen anything like it.”

Casey chuckled, glancing around at the team. “Yeah, it’s a whole different world. You guys sticking around here for the start?”

“We’ll be in the VIP section,” Tee answered. “Want to see what all the fuss is about.”

Casey smirked knowingly. “I’m sure you’ll love it. But, uh, if you’re looking for Imani, she’s down on the track giving her interviews right now. She’s hard to miss—always steals the spotlight.”

Joe’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Imani. His eyes involuntarily flicked toward the pit area as if by instinct, but he quickly forced himself to look away. He didn’t want to appear too obvious, especially with his teammates around. Still, the idea of seeing her again stirred something in him—something that felt a lot like anticipation, mixed with a healthy dose of nerves.

Tee caught the look on Joe’s face, a sly grin spreading across his features. “Ah, so now you’re interested,” he teased. “You know, we’ve all been waiting for this moment.”

“Shut up,” Joe muttered under his breath, though he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Sam laughed, clapping Joe on the back. “Don’t worry, man. It’s all good. We get it. Who wouldn’t be interested in someone as awesome as Imani?”

Brad caught the tail end of the conversation and nodded in approval. “She’s a force. Not only is she dominating the track, but she’s got that whole ‘don’t mess with me’ vibe. That’s why people love her.” He paused for a moment, then looked at Joe with a knowing expression. “But hey, if you’re trying to catch up with her, she’ll be around after the interviews. Maybe you’ll run into her again later.”

Joe gave a small, appreciative nod, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that Brad was onto him. “Thanks,” he replied, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Anytime,” Brad said with a wink before turning and walking back toward the pits.

The guys gave Joe one last round of teasing before they moved on toward the VIP section, but Joe’s mind was already elsewhere. As much as he wanted to focus on the race ahead, he couldn’t stop thinking about Imani—how fierce and confident she was, how easy it had been to talk to her despite the playful banter between them. He wasn’t sure where it was going, but he was definitely curious to see where it would lead.

As they entered the VIP area, the deafening roar of the crowd filled their ears, but for Joe, it was background noise. His thoughts were consumed with a singular question: Would he see Imani again today?

The energy in the air was palpable; it was the kind of electric atmosphere you only found at a big NASCAR event. Cars were lined up, engines revved, and the smell of fuel lingered in the air as the anticipation for the race built to a fever pitch.

The four of them were dressed casually, wearing sunglasses and hats to blend in a bit with the crowd, but they certainly stood out in their own right. As they walked toward the section reserved for the drivers’ teams and their guests, Joe couldn’t help but notice the vast difference between the gridiron and the racetrack. While football had its own energy, there was something almost otherworldly about the speed, precision, and pure adrenaline of NASCAR.

“Man, this place is wild,” Tee muttered, looking around at the grandstands packed with fans. “I’ve never seen so many people in one spot outside of a football game.”

Sam chuckled, his eyes scanning the pit crews working tirelessly on the cars. “It’s on a whole different level. These people are serious about their racing.”

Ja'Marr, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke up, a teasing grin on his face. “I think I could get used to this. I’m feeling the need for speed.”

Joe laughed, but his eyes were already searching for a familiar face. His thoughts immediately turned to Imani. The playful teasing from the night before still lingered in his mind, but today, there was a different kind of excitement in the air. Imani had invited him and the guys to the race, and now they were about to see her in action.

The pre-race show was in full swing, the cameras buzzing with energy as the stadium and racetrack were buzzing with anticipation. The track was lined with spectators, each one waiting for the race to begin, and the excitement in the air was palpable. Joe and the guys—Sam Hubbard, Ja'Marr Chase, and Tee Higgins—stood at the side, their eyes trained on the monitors set up for the pre-race interviews. The excitement was in full swing, but there was a new kind of buzz in the air today. Everyone seemed to be waiting for the next Imani Brown moment.

Imani Brown’s interview was set to air, and everyone in the group was eager to see her on-screen. Joe, who had already been struck by Imani’s presence in the paddock, was curious to hear how she carried herself in front of the camera. He had a feeling that her confidence wasn’t just reserved for the racetrack—it likely extended to every aspect of her life.

As the cameras cut to her, Imani stood in front of a backdrop with the motorcade behind her, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the scene. Her racing suit was immaculate, the bold logos shining under the lights. She had a natural charisma about her—her posture was tall and assured, but there was something disarming about her smile, something that made her approachable even though she was at the pinnacle of her career.

The interviewer, a seasoned NASCAR journalist, greeted her with a grin. “Imani, it’s great to have you with us. You’re on a roll this season, leading the championship, and you’re back here in Miami, where you debuted and scored your first win. How does it feel to return to a place that’s been so good to you?”

Imani's expression softened, but the glint in her eyes remained fierce. She took a beat, soaking in the moment before responding. “Miami’s always been good to me. I debuted here, and it feels like home. The fans here are incredibly welcoming—every time I step onto this track, I feel the energy from them, like they’re cheering for me, no matter where I’m from. And I’ve gotta say, getting my first win here last year was a pretty special moment. I’m definitely looking forward to doing it again today.”

Joe and the rest of the group exchanged glances. It was clear that Imani wasn’t just talking about her victory on the track; she was talking about the connection she had built with the Miami crowd, a bond forged in a city that embraced her as one of their own. Her voice was confident but not arrogant, playful yet serious. It was the perfect balance for someone who wasn’t just a driver but a leader in every sense of the word.

The interviewer, clearly impressed, asked, “You’ve had an incredible start to the season, with consistent top finishes and that big Daytona 500 win. How do you keep your focus in a sport as unpredictable as NASCAR? What’s your mindset going into a race like today?”

Imani gave a small chuckle, her expression turning more playful. “You know, every race is different. Some days you’re the hammer, some days you’re the nail,” she said with a wink. “But the key is staying focused on the task at hand. It’s about adjusting to the changes, whether it's the track, the competition, or even just the feel of the car. And as far as keeping my focus? Well, I’ve got a team around me that’s just as relentless as I am. We’re all pushing for the same thing, and we know what we’re capable of.”

There was a slight pause before she added with a smirk, “And yeah, I’m not afraid to remind the guys that I’m not here just to race—I’m here to win, and I’m not slowing down for anyone.”

The playful defiance in her voice had a sharp edge to it, and Joe couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t just competing; she was challenging the status quo. And she did it with such ease, so effortlessly, that it was impossible not to respect her.

The interviewer grinned, clearly enjoying the vibe Imani was giving off. “I think the competition’s definitely paying attention! Well, Imani, we know you’ve got a lot of people cheering for you out here today. Best of luck on the track—looking forward to seeing you do your thing.”

Imani gave a confident nod, her smile returning. “Thanks. I’m ready for it.”

As the crew of commentators spoke animatedly, the camera switched to a close-up of Imani Brown, standing confidently in front of the backdrop with her helmet under one arm, and her team logo boldly displayed on her racing suit. Her presence was magnetic—no surprise there. She was a rising star in the Cup Series, and her persona was just as captivating as her driving skills. But this time, the focus wasn't just on her racing career. The camera caught the unmistakable chatter of paparazzi from the previous night—the buzz about Imani being seen with Joe Burrow, her dinner companion. It seemed like the perfect setup for a bit of drama.

Imani walked with purpose through the maze of people, her boho butterfly braids swaying rhythmically with each step she took. The braids, carefully woven and adorned with colorful beads, cascaded down her back, catching the sunlight and reflecting a subtle shimmer. As she moved, the light breeze played with the ends of her hair, creating an almost ethereal effect, as if the wind itself couldn’t help but follow her. The fluidity of her stride matched her effortless grace—she was in her element, and everyone around her could feel it.

Fans lined the barriers, shouting her name, some holding signs with her number, others just eager to see their champion. And without missing a beat, Imani flashed a quick but genuine smile and gave a casual wave, the kind that made every fan feel seen, like they were part of the moment with her. Her eyes sparkled with a quiet confidence that didn’t need words to be understood. She didn’t just walk through the crowd—she commanded it, every move dripping with assurance, like the entire atmosphere was bending to her will.

Just as she was nearing the entrance to the garage area, her crew hard at work on her car, a hand reached out to stop her.

“Imani!” a voice called out.

She turned, a smile already forming on her lips as she recognized the familiar reporter, the one who had been following her career since her early days in NASCAR.

"I guess I’m not getting out of this one," Imani murmured under her breath, though the playful glint in her eyes said otherwise.

Her crew was still in the background, focused on the car, but for a moment, the world around her seemed to fade as the noise of the racetrack blended into the hum of adrenaline. Her focus shifted entirely to the present, the steady rhythm of her breath aligning with the intensity of the moment.

It was a rare thing, how natural she made it all seem, like a queen among her people—unrivaled, confident, and always in control.

The interviewer, a young woman with a professional smile, couldn't resist the opportunity to ask.

“So, Imani,” the interviewer began, turning her attention to Imani as the cameras rolled, “You were spotted with Joe Burrow last night. There’s been a lot of buzz about that. Care to comment on the dinner?”

The question hung in the air, and the room fell a little quieter as everyone turned their attention to Imani, waiting for her response. Joe, standing off to the side with the guys, instantly felt a slight shift in the air. He hadn’t been expecting the question to come up, and he wasn’t sure how Imani would handle it. He could see the familiar glint in her eyes—a mix of playful confidence and no-nonsense attitude. It was the same intensity she brought to the track, and it was clear she wasn’t going to back down.

Imani's lips curled into a slight smile as she answered, her tone calm but filled with an underlying edge.

“Well,” she began, eyes flashing toward the interviewer with a knowing look. “Everyone knows my cousin Orlando plays for Cincinnati, so it’s not exactly a secret that I know a few of the players, right? It’s pretty obvious I’ve spent time with some of them. Who I have dinner with, or who I’m with at any given time, is nobody’s business but mine. And honestly? It shouldn’t be a topic of conversation.”

Her voice remained level, but the underlying assertion was clear. She wasn’t about to let the question slide without setting the record straight. Her eyes briefly flickered over to Joe, who was watching her from the sidelines, his arms crossed, a quiet smirk on his face as he observed her handling the situation. He had a newfound respect for her—there was no one quite like Imani.

She continued, her gaze now shifting back to the interviewer, who was clearly trying to keep the situation under control.

“Let’s be real here. I’m here to race. I’m here to talk about racing, not to discuss who I’ve had dinner with. People can make whatever assumptions they want, but my personal life? It stays separate from my career.” She paused, raising an eyebrow, clearly not finished. “Joe’s a great guy. If I want to have dinner with someone of the opposite gender, it shouldn’t be a big deal. And you know what? I’m tired of that question always coming up. Do you ask the guys on the track whose thighs they’re in between when they’re hanging out with someone?”

The interviewer blinked in surprise, but Imani wasn’t done yet. The sarcasm in her voice was palpable as she added one final jab.

“Maybe you should try it next time. See how the guys like it.”

Imani gave the interviewer a pointed look, and before anyone could respond, she turned on her heel and started to walk off, clearly done with the question. The crowd of reporters, along with the cameramen, looked momentarily stunned by her directness, but no one could deny the power in her words. It was a classic Imani move—bold, unapologetic, and yet still with that playful undertone that made everyone aware she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

Joe stood there, a grin creeping across his face. His teammates, who had been watching the interview with interest, looked at each other and then back at Joe. Sam, who had been quiet, raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

“Man, she doesn’t pull punches, does she?” Sam muttered, his voice laced with admiration.

“Nope,” Ja'Marr said with a grin. “That’s why we like her.”

Tee laughed, shaking his head. “She’s got the fire. No wonder she’s killing it this season.”

Joe’s smirk didn’t fade. He was proud of how Imani had handled the interview—cool, collected, and making her point without missing a beat. There was no mistaking it now: Imani was one of the most intense, most driven athletes in the world, and she wasn’t about to let anyone distract her from her goals. The way she carried herself, both on and off the track, left an impression on anyone who crossed her path.

“I’ll say it again,” Ja'Marr added, glancing at Joe. “You two got some serious chemistry. She’s something else, huh?”

Joe chuckled but didn’t respond right away, his mind replaying the way Imani had handled herself in front of the cameras. He could feel the pull between them, but there was something more now—something deeper. She wasn’t just a great driver, she was a force to be reckoned with. And whether he liked it or not, he was part of her world now.

“She’s definitely one of a kind,” Joe said, his voice low but filled with that same admiration the others shared. “And she’s only getting started.”

As the interview wrapped up and the cameras switched off, Imani made her way back to the motorcade, the confidence in her stride undeniable. Joe’s eyes followed her for a moment before he turned back to his teammates.

“She’s got this race in the bag,” Joe said, more to himself than anyone else. “And after that, we’ll see who’s winning next.”

Sam, Tee, and Ja'Marr all nodded in agreement, knowing one thing for sure: when Imani Brown took the track, she was about to remind everyone exactly why she was leading the championship. No one—especially not the press—was going to get in her way.

Soon enough, they reached the designated area, and as they stood at the edge of the track, a team member walked over to greet them.

“Alright, fellas, right this way,” the staff member said, guiding them toward the motorcade. “You’ll be standing with the #9 crew for the race today.”

Joe’s heart rate picked up a bit as he realized they’d be in the motorcade of her race car. His gaze flicked to the vibrant #9 car parked in front of them, its sleek design a blur of neon green and black. It was unmistakable. Imani’s signature car.

They made their way to a roped-off area near the cars, and it didn’t take long for Imani to approach. She was wearing a black racing suit with the #9 embroidered over her heart, her helmet tucked under one arm as she walked up to greet them, a wide smile spreading across her face when she saw Joe. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of confidence and excitement as she walked toward them, the buzz of the race and the crowd barely touching her calm composure.

“Gentlemen,” she said, her voice a mix of warmth and playful authority. “Glad you could make it. You’re about to see how real athletes do it.”

Joe’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as Imani flashed him a wink, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He took a step forward, extending his hand toward her with a confident grin. “I’m looking forward to seeing you out there,” he said, his voice smooth, but there was a slight edge to it—a playful challenge. “But hey, don’t go too hard on me. I’ve still got a career to focus on.”

Imani laughed, the sound as effortless and captivating as always. She tilted her head slightly, her smile never wavering as she extended her hand to shake his. “Oh, I’ll try not to take you down too badly, Joe,” she teased, her eyes narrowing just a fraction, clearly enjoying the playful banter between them. “But you know, sometimes a girl’s gotta remind the guys who’s boss.”

Her hand lingered in his just a little longer than necessary, the brief touch sending an undeniable spark of electricity between them. The tension was thick, as if every word, every glance, was a little more than just friendly chatter.

Joe’s smile widened, but there was a flicker in his eyes—a hint of something more than just the casual flirtation they’d shared before. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on you then,” he said, his tone almost teasing, but there was something underneath it, something deeper that lingered in the air.

Imani chuckled softly, stepping back with a playful twirl of her fingers through her braids, her gaze still locked on him. “Good. You’ll need it.” Her voice was light, but the hint of challenge was unmistakable. She didn’t back down from anything—and neither did he.

She turned her attention to the rest of the guys. “Sam, Ja'Marr, Tee—glad you could make it too. I expect you all to cheer extra loud for me.”

Ja'Marr chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ve got your back. We’re team #9 today.”

“You all better be ready for some serious speed,” Imani teased, her eyes glinting with excitement. “But just so you know, I’m not just here to race. I’m here to win.”

Her words were sharp, confident, and full of that undeniable fire that everyone had come to know about her. At just 23 years old, Imani Brown wasn’t just another driver in the field—she was the driver everyone was talking about. She had become one of the first Black women to race in the Cup Series, and her record was nothing short of spectacular. After a grueling race, she’d clinched her first-ever Daytona 500 win, solidifying her status as a championship contender. And this season? She was leading the points standings, with multiple top-three finishes under her belt and zero DNFs (Did Not Finish)—a perfect start to a season that looked like it could end in a championship.

Joe could feel the fire in her words. Imani wasn’t just confident; she had a palpable intensity to her, a drive that matched the best in any sport. She was a force to be reckoned with, and it was hard not to be drawn to her energy.

She gave them one last glance before she adjusted her helmet, the seriousness of race day settling over her features.

“I’ll see you guys after the race,” she said, the usual playfulness in her voice replaced by a steely focus. “Stay out of the way of my crew, though. They’re in the zone.”

With that, she nodded, giving Joe a final, lingering look before walking to her car. Her movements were effortless, the confident way she moved toward the #9 car making it clear that she was right where she belonged.

The guys stood there for a moment, watching her go, before Sam broke the silence.

“Man, she is something else,” he said, shaking his head in awe.

Tee nodded, his eyes still tracking Imani’s every move as she slipped into the car. “She’s got that fire. I can feel it. Can’t wait to see her out there.”

Ja'Marr clapped Joe on the back, grinning. “You and her—y’all got some serious chemistry. I’m just sayin’.”

Joe smirked, shaking his head but not denying it. There was no point in trying to hide the way Imani had gotten under his skin. She was one of a kind. And as they watched her car roll to the starting line, Joe knew there was something special about the way she carried herself. Off the track, Imani was playful, teasing, and easy to talk to. But when it came time to race? She was all business—and that was exactly the kind of woman who knew how to push limits.

And as Imani disappeared into the pit area, the group knew one thing for sure—they were about to witness something special.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a bright sheen over the Miami racetrack, as the cars lined up for the start of the NASCAR Cup Series StraightTalk Wireless 400. The roar of the engines echoed through the grandstands, and the tension was palpable. Imani Brown, now comfortably seated in her #9 Hendrick Motorsports car, sat in P1. She’d earned this position with a perfect qualifying run, and now, with the start of the race before her, she was ready to make her mark.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel with a calm but intense focus. She could feel the vibrations of the car beneath her, the hum of the engine, the slight pull of the harness that kept her secure. She wasn’t new to this—far from it. But today, the stakes felt higher. Today, she was leading the pack. And right beside her on the grid was none other than Joey Logano, a seasoned veteran who wouldn’t make it easy on her. He was a threat, and she knew it.

The engines revved, the race was about to begin, and Imani’s car roared to life, the crowd erupting into cheers as her car shot forward. Joe’s heart raced in anticipation—not just for the race, but for what he knew was brewing between them. There was an undeniable chemistry, something that, like her driving, couldn’t be ignored.

As the green flag waved, Imani’s foot hit the floor, and the roar of the engine sent the car surging forward. She instinctively adjusted her line, weaving between the pack as they thundered around the track. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, but she kept her focus tight.

As Imani rocketed into the race, leading from the start, Joe felt a sense of pride. He was watching history unfold right in front of him. And in that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was just the beginning of something even bigger.

“Alright, fellas,” Joe said, his voice filled with excitement. “This is going to be a hell of a race.”

The rest of the guys nodded, their attention fixed on the track, but Joe’s mind wasn’t just on the race. It was on Imani, and the feeling that this was only the start of something much more intense.

The sound of tires screeching, the heavy thrum of powerful engines revving, and the shifting of gears created a symphony of speed that only those in the cockpit could fully appreciate. Imani’s Hendrick Motorsports #9 car rocketed down the straightaways with precision. Joey Logano’s car was close, always in her peripheral vision, trying to inch ahead as they braked hard for the corners. But Imani held steady, expertly maintaining her position.

Lap after lap, the strategy was clear: stay aggressive but keep the car in one piece. Push when she could, defend when necessary. As she rounded Turn 3 on the fifth lap, however, the yellow flag came out.

“Caution, caution,” the spotter’s voice crackled through her earpiece.

The pack slowed as the cars peeled back into single file, and the replay flashed up on the screen. Three cars had gotten tangled up in a wreck mid-pack, causing a chain reaction. Ryan Blaney, William Byron, and Christopher Bell were the unfortunate drivers involved. Blaney’s car had slid sideways, spinning right into the path of Byron and Bell, with pieces of fenders and parts littering the track. The wreck had been chaotic, but all the drivers involved were thankfully able to exit their vehicles under their own power.

Imani’s grip tightened around the wheel as her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. She knew that a restart could bring chaos, and she had to stay sharp. A pit stop was coming, and the strategy would be critical.

“You’re good, Imani. Keep your head in the game,” her crew chief’s voice came through her earpiece, steadying her nerves.

With the caution flag out, the field slowed, and the pit crews began preparing for the first set of pit stops. Imani’s mind stayed sharp, focusing on the strategy and staying calm under pressure. She could hear the pit crews moving into position as they neared pit lane.

As the field restarted, Imani’s car surged forward again, but this time, it was a little trickier. Joey Logano, who had been waiting for the green flag to drop, shot ahead on the restart, quickly overtaking Imani in the tight, pack-racing situation. Imani, however, wasn’t about to let him slip away that easily.

“Keep on him. You’ve got this,” her spotter encouraged as Logano edged out ahead.

Imani settled back into the race, staying focused as the laps ticked away. Pit stops came in and out, the crews working fast. On one of the pit cycles, Imani’s crew had a slightly slower stop—just a fraction of a second off—but in NASCAR, those fractions meant positions. On the next lap, Kyle Busch and Chase Elliott passed her in the pit exit, bumping her down a few spots.

Imani was not happy about it. She ground her teeth as the cars ahead of her pulled away.

“I’m gonna get them back,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing. She wasn’t one to take a loss on pit lane lying down, and she wasn’t about to let a few bad stops ruin her race.

As the race entered the later stages, Imani knew it was time to dig deep. The laps were winding down, and she had to make up ground. It was about precision and patience—passing wasn’t just about speed; it was about timing. She lined up Denny Hamlin for a pass on the inside and made her move on the backstretch. The move was smooth, and she cleared him just before entering Turn 3.

“Great job, great job,” her crew chief praised, but there was no time for celebration. She had more work to do.

The race was intense, the heat of competition rising with every lap. Imani’s #9 car flew around the track with precision, but the constant shifting of positions and the strategy of the other drivers was starting to get under her skin.

As she approached Turn 4, she could see a gap opening in front of her, a chance to take back a position she’d lost earlier. She gunned the engine, weaving past another car on the inside, but as soon as she made the move, another car darted in front of her, blocking her path and forcing her to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision.

“That’s some bullshit!” Imani muttered under her breath, her grip on the steering wheel tightening.

Her spotter’s voice crackled in her ear, trying to calm her. “Easy, Imani. Stay calm, stay focused. You’ve got this. Just keep working your line.”

Imani’s teeth gritted. She could feel the frustration bubbling up inside her, but she kept her focus, weaving her way back into the rhythm of the race. However, as she made her way down the backstretch, another driver — this time, Kyle Busch — cut her off, forcing her to check up and lose more ground.

Her grip on the wheel tightened even further, and this time, there was no stopping the frustration from spilling out.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Imani snapped, her voice loud over the radio. “What the hell is Kyle doing? He’s playing games out here, and it’s pissing me off!”

Her crew chief, trying to keep her level-headed, came through the radio with a calm voice, “Imani, stay focused. You’re fine. Just don’t let him get in your head.”

But that only made her more irritable. “I’m not fine,” she growled, her tone sharp. “I’m out here busting my ass, and these idiots keep pulling these cheap moves. I’m gonna make ‘em pay for it.”

Her spotter, ever the professional, interjected quickly. “Listen to me, Imani. You know the drill. Just breathe. You’ve got the skill to get back. Let’s focus on the race, not the idiots on the track.”

Imani huffed, a sharp breath escaping her lips as she navigated the next corner, still seething. “I hear you. But damn, I’m sick of these guys thinking they can just push me around like I’m some rookie. I’m not that.”

Her spotter sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to back down. “I know, Imani. But we’re playing the long game. Keep your cool, and we’ll get ‘em when it counts.”

She took another breath, the sound coming through the radio like a small storm trying to calm itself. But the fire was still there, simmering under the surface. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice still laced with feistiness. “But don’t expect me to play nice with these fucking clowns when it’s time to turn things up. I’ll show them exactly who’s running this track.”

Her crew chief’s voice came through, a mix of firmness and encouragement. “Imani, I know you’re ready to race hard. Just keep your head in the game. The moves will come, but we have to play it smart. The last thing we need is to get caught up in someone else’s mess.”

Imani’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as she entered the next set of turns. She could feel her pulse quicken, the adrenaline thrumming in her veins. Her competitive nature was like a fire that burned with intensity, and right now, it was roaring at full force.

“I hear you, but I’m not sitting back any longer,” she replied, her voice sharp with determination. “I’m done being the nice girl out here.”

As if on cue, a car ahead of her—one she’d been tailing for several laps—braked early for a corner, forcing her to adjust her line and lose precious time. She growled under her breath, barely containing her frustration.

“Imani, calm down,” her spotter urged, but she wasn’t listening. Not anymore.

Without missing a beat, she floored the accelerator, her car roaring as she took a daring move on the inside. It was tight—too tight for most drivers, but Imani didn’t hesitate. She knew she had the skill to make the pass without making it ugly. With a quick flick of the wheel, she edged ahead, powering past the car that had been blocking her earlier.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Imani cheered under her breath, a sense of satisfaction washing over her as she fought for every inch. But the battle wasn’t over yet. A quick glance in her rearview mirror told her she wasn’t done fighting. The field was still tight, and she had more work to do.

Her spotter’s voice broke through again, this time with more urgency. “You’ve got a car coming up fast behind you. Don’t let up.”

Imani’s eyes flicked to the rearview. A car was gaining ground, and she could feel the heat of the other driver closing in. Her grip tightened as she prepared to defend her position.

“I know what I’m doing,” she muttered, her voice a mix of grit and grit alone. Her foot pressed further down on the accelerator, pushing the car harder as she focused on maintaining her lead.

As they hit another straightaway, the other car made its move, diving low and trying to take advantage of her slight miscalculation. Imani’s eyes narrowed, and she fought back, keeping the pace while positioning herself perfectly to block the move.

“Nice try, but not today,” she muttered, her confidence returning as she held her line. She made sure to keep her car steady, using every ounce of experience and skill to prevent the other driver from slipping by. It was a battle, but it was one she was determined to win.

“Great job, Imani. Keep it up,” her crew chief praised, though there was still a tinge of caution in his voice.

But Imani didn’t care. She was too far in the zone, too focused on what lay ahead. The tension in the air was palpable, but it was a familiar feeling for her. She was born for this.

“I’m going to show these guys exactly who’s in charge,” she muttered to herself, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

And she was just getting started.

As Imani’s fiery responses crackled through the radio, Joe and the guys, who had been watching the race from the VIP area, couldn’t help but exchange amused glances. Sam, Ja’Marr, and Tee were leaning forward, their attention fixed on the screen, but the sound of Imani’s fierce voice over the radio caught their attention.

“Did she just say that?” Tee asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam let out a low whistle. “She’s definitely not playing around today. Feisty is an understatement.”

Joe grinned, his eyes never leaving the screen. “She’s got that fire, doesn’t she?” His voice was a mixture of admiration and something else—an unmistakable hint of amusement. “I’m not sure anyone can handle her when she gets going.”

Ja'Marr chuckled, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what makes her so damn good. She doesn’t back down from anyone. And I like that.”

Tee nodded. “Hell, if I had to race against her, I’d be looking over my shoulder every second. Imani doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

Joe’s grin widened as he leaned back in his chair, relaxing into the moment. “You guys are right. I don’t think anyone expects her to be this intense, but I like how she handles it. She’s got that, uh, competitive edge. Reminds me a little of someone else I know.”

Sam gave him a sidelong glance. “Oh, yeah? And who’s that?”

Joe's grin only grew wider. “I think we all know who,” he said with a wink. The playful tension in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group.

Ja'Marr laughed. “Imani’s got him all riled up, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘riled up,’” Joe replied, but there was no hiding the slight blush that crept onto his cheeks. He quickly cleared his throat. “I mean, she’s just... passionate about what she does. Can’t help but respect that.”

The guys exchanged knowing looks, and Sam smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure, Joe. Respect.”

Joe rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. Instead, he focused back on the race, watching Imani maneuver through the field with precision and aggression. Her fiery personality was evident not just in her radio communications, but in the way she handled the car—taking control of the track with a level of confidence that only made her more captivating.

Imani’s voice crackled over the radio once again, the intensity and focus in her tone impossible to ignore.

“Okay, time to get them back. Let’s do this,” she snapped, clearly fired up as she pushed her car to the limit.

The guys laughed as they all looked at Joe, who, for a brief moment, looked slightly entranced by the raw intensity in her voice.

“Man, she really knows how to turn it on, huh?” Tee teased, his grin widening.

Joe smirked, but his eyes were glued to the screen. “Yeah, no kidding. She’s not here to play games. She's a force to be reckoned with.” His voice was low, a mix of admiration and maybe something else.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “You sure it’s the racing you respect?”

Joe shot him a look but didn’t answer, the teasing atmosphere hanging in the air. He was enjoying the playful banter, but deep down, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt every time Imani spoke. Whether it was over the radio or in person, there was something undeniably magnetic about her—and he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Imani’s lap times were improving as the laps dwindled, and with just a few laps to go, she was right back on Joey Logano’s tail. The two cars raced neck and neck, the roar of their engines blending with the crowd’s cheers. Logano, sensing the pressure, began to block her in the corners, weaving slightly as they entered Turn 4.

But Imani wasn’t going to let that stop her. She stayed patient, waiting for the right moment. As they rounded Turn 3 with just two laps left, Logano’s car drifted just a little too wide, and that was all the opening Imani needed.

With a quick, calculated move, Imani dove low on the inside of Turn 4, sliding past Logano and into the lead. The crowd’s roar escalated as the two cars crossed the start/finish line, but it was Imani’s car that was first, leading into the final lap.

“One more lap. Just one more,” her spotter said. The intensity of the moment was undeniable.

Imani held her ground on the final lap. Logano, desperate to retake the lead, tried to dive down low in the final turn, but Imani held strong, keeping the car steady, controlling the lines, and making sure to defend without overdriving the corners.

As Imani powered through the final turn, the roar of the crowd rising to a deafening crescendo, she felt it—the surge of adrenaline that came with the final stretch. The finish line loomed ahead, and she could almost taste the victory in the air. Her grip tightened around the steering wheel as she pressed the pedal to the metal, pushing her car down the frontstretch with everything she had left.

The last few laps had been a battle—fighting for every inch of track against some of the sport’s fiercest competitors. Logano had been on her tail, trying to push her out of the way, and Kyle Busch had taken some cheap shots, weaving in and out of her blind spots. But now, as the checkered flag waved, there was no one in sight, no one close enough to challenge her. The race was hers.

As she crossed the finish line, her spotter’s voice exploded over the radio, full of excitement and pride. "“You did it, Imani! You’re the winner!” the spotter shouted. Imani’s heart skipped a beat. Her breath caught in her throat as a wild grin spread across her face. She could feel the rush of satisfaction flooding through her, the culmination of everything she had worked for. Victory.

“Fuck yes! We did it! Fuck you Kyle ya fucking prick.” Imani shouted over the radio, her voice full of triumph. "Drinks are on me tonight guys!" She let out a joyous laugh, her pulse still racing, but now for entirely different reasons.

As Imani cruised past the finish line, her victory lap had just ended, but the adrenaline was still coursing through her veins. Her hands gripped the wheel, a wide grin on her face as she basked in the overwhelming energy of the moment. The roar of the crowd still buzzed in her ears, but she had one last thing to do to make this victory unforgettable.

With a sly, confident smirk, Imani hit the gas.

The tires screeched, and her #9 car slid into a sharp turn, the backend fishtailing wildly as she whipped it into a full spin. The crowd went wild as the back end of her car kicked out, smoke billowing from the tires as she began to spin in circles, the engine roaring with power beneath her. She was doing donuts at full speed, the smell of burning rubber filling the air as she celebrated with wild abandon.

Each spin brought a wave of euphoria, each turn a reminder of what she had just accomplished. The trophy might have been sitting in her pit crew’s hands, but this—this moment of pure freedom, of joy, of proving everyone wrong—was hers alone.

Imani’s boho butterfly braids flew around her face as she swerved, her eyes still glinting with mischief. She couldn't help herself, letting out a shout of pure excitement into the cockpit as the car spun again and again, her body moving instinctively with the rhythm of the machine.

The deafening roar of the crowd only fueled her celebration, their cheers becoming a constant in the background of her victory. She leaned into the turn, hitting the gas one more time as her car slid in a perfect circle, the motion graceful yet powerful.

Eventually, the tires lost their grip, and with one final, exhilarating spin, Imani slowed the car to a stop. The engine purred softly as she let the car come to a complete stop right at the start/finish line, smoke still rising from the tires in a beautiful, chaotic plume.

Imani let out a laugh, the sound light and carefree, as she raised her hand in victory. She glanced up at the scoreboard, and her heart skipped a beat. She was not just celebrating a win today—she was leading the championship by 22 points.

Coasting toward victory lane, she felt her team’s support in every inch of the car, every press of the pedal. She gave them a mental nod, silently thanking them for their precision and hard work all week. But as her car rolled into victory lane, her smile shifted to something more mischievous, her eyes twinkling with a hint of playful defiance.

She parked the car, and as soon as she stepped out, the roar from the crowd was deafening. Fans in the stands were screaming her name, their cheers vibrating in the air. Imani raised her fist in the air in a victorious salute before walking towards her crew, who were already waiting for her with high fives and hugs. The excitement from her team was palpable.

“Yeah! That’s how we do it!” her crew chief shouted, clapping her on the back. “You nailed it today, Imani. We’ve been waiting for this!”

The deafening cheers of the crowd filled the air as Imani parked her car in the middle of victory lane, her hands still gripping the wheel as she took a deep breath to steady herself. She could hear the hum of excitement all around her, the distant thrum of the engines still in the air, but in this moment, it was just her and the moment of triumph she’d earned.

She climbed out of the car, a wide smile spreading across her face as she waved to the cheering crowd. The roar from the stands was deafening, the energy contagious. Imani took a deep breath, soaking in the moment. This wasn’t just any win. This was a win that solidified her place among the best in the sport. A win that sent a message—not just to the field, but to the world. The pit crew, having already rushed from the wall, gathered around her, and a few of the crew members slapped her on the back, their faces lit with excitement. But Imani wasn't done yet.

She made her way up to the roof of her #9 Hendrick Motorsports car. The crowd's cheers swelled even louder as she stood tall, her heart racing with a heady mix of pride and exhilaration. With one hand raised triumphantly, she lifted her other arm high into the air. The cameras snapped in rapid fire, capturing the iconic image of Imani Brown—champion, unstoppable, fearless. Her boho butterfly braids swayed in the breeze as she raised her arms higher, a fierce smile spreading across her face.

The atmosphere was electric. Fans lined the grandstands, some waving signs, others just screaming in pure joy. The noise and the energy were palpable, but Imani soaked it all in, her body humming with the rush of victory.

After a few seconds of basking in the glory, Imani hopped down from the car, landing smoothly onto the track. Her crew surrounded her in a jubilant, chaotic wave of excitement. They all screamed her name as they lifted her into the air, tossing her up like she was a feather caught in the wind. She laughed, arms raised in pure ecstasy as they held her high, the weight of her victory still sinking in.

Cameras surrounded her, flashing like a storm of light, but Imani didn’t mind. She was the storm today.

Once they gently set her down, Imani walked with the crew toward the pit area where the media was waiting. As she made her way, the crowd’s applause still reverberated in the air around her. She unfastened her helmet and balaclava, pulling them off in one fluid motion and tossing them toward one of her crew members.

She quickly slipped her gloves off, handing them to her trainer Jade, as she made her way toward the interview area, her fireproof suit now loose at her waist. Her suit hung comfortably on her, a perfect reminder of how she had just earned every ounce of her success. Underneath, the glow of her fireproof gear still shimmered, a faint reminder of the risk she took every time she strapped into that car.

The interviewer greeted her with a wide smile, knowing just how momentous this moment was.

“Well, Imani, congratulations! What a race, what a win. You’re leading the championship now with a solid 22-point lead. How does it feel?”

Imani took a deep breath, her face flushed from the adrenaline, her voice steady but filled with that signature fire of hers.

“It feels amazing. But you know, this is just one step. I’m not satisfied yet. We’ve got a long season ahead, and I’m ready for it. My team, my pit crew—they were flawless today. I can’t thank them enough for everything they do. This win is for them, for all the hard work they’ve put in.”

She gave the camera a sly smile, her eyes gleaming with a mix of confidence and mischief.

“And as for the competition... well, I’m not done yet. 22 points is a great lead, but I plan on extending that every chance I get. If anybody’s thinking this was just a lucky race, they better think again.”

The reporter chuckled, clearly enjoying the feisty attitude.

“Speaking of competition, you and Kyle Busch, and Joey Logano—some of those passes earlier were a bit... intense. You certainly had some tense moments on the track.”

Imani laughed, her voice smooth and casual, but her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

“Oh, trust me, I was feeling it. I’ve got a lot of respect for those guys, but they’ve got to remember—I'm not here to play it safe. Sometimes, you’ve got to push the limits, and if they don’t like it, well... a big ‘Fuck you’ to them again. I’m here to win, and if they’re gonna make it difficult, they’re gonna see how hard I’ll fight.”

She gave the interviewer a wink before turning her attention back to the cheering crowd.

“I’m ready for whatever comes next. But for tonight? I’m gonna enjoy this. This one’s for all the fans, my team, and anyone who ever doubted me.”

The crowd erupted in applause once more as Imani smiled, her confidence radiating through every word and every gesture. With one final wave, she walked off, knowing that this was just the beginning of a long, victorious season.

The buzz of victory still crackled in the air as Imani made her way back toward the area where the guys were standing. Her heart was still racing, but not from the thrill of the race anymore. It was the sheer excitement of winning, of knowing that this moment would go down as one of her best yet. The cheers and the constant flashing of cameras only amplified the joy that was surging through her.

But just as she reached her crew, the world seemed to explode in champagne.

Sprayed from multiple directions, Imani let out a laugh, her voice light and carefree. Champagne splashed across her face, dripping down her racing suit, but she didn’t care. This moment, this messy, celebratory chaos, was exactly what she needed. She tossed her head back, her boho butterfly braids whipping around as she took it all in, basking in the energy of the crowd, the crew, and the guys who had watched her take this win.

"Now hold on, where’s my bottle?" she shouted above the cheers, her voice a playful mix of command and laughter.

Her crew chief, grinning ear to ear, handed her a fresh bottle of champagne.

Imani swirled it around in her hands, her fingers tracing the cold glass. The grin never left her face as she slammed the bottom of the bottle with her foot, sending the cork launching into the air. The bottle exploded, the champagne fizzing out in a chaotic, celebratory spray. She turned to her crew, spraying them with a burst of bubbly as they cheered, their laughter ringing out louder than the engines had been moments earlier.

The guys—Joe, Sam, Tee, and Ja'Marr—found themselves caught in the crossfire of the champagne shower, their faces lit up with surprise and laughter.

Joe, who had been standing off to the side, wiped champagne from his eyes, his grin stretching wide. He had never seen anyone so full of life, so unapologetically confident. Imani’s fiery spirit was contagious.

"You’re soaking us all!" Sam shouted between laughs, holding his arms up to shield himself from the deluge.

Imani’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she swirled the bottle again, and with a wicked smile, she turned her focus to the guys, spraying them down with her victory champagne. "Oh, I’m just getting started," she teased, her voice full of that signature playful edge.

She shot a wink in Joe’s direction, her gaze locking with his for a brief moment. It was daring, playful, and there was something in her eyes that made his pulse race. He returned the wink, though there was no denying the slight tug of tension that still lingered between them.

With the bottle emptied and her crew covered in champagne, Imani took a quick sip from the neck of the bottle, savoring the taste as her laughter continued to echo around the pit.

"Alright, alright," her crew chief called, motioning for her to come closer. "Team photo time."

Imani rolled her eyes but still couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across her face. She made her way toward her team, shaking her head at the playful chaos she’d created. As they gathered together for the photo, she was pulled in by her teammates, their arms around her shoulders, and she was momentarily lost in the sea of joy and laughter.

Imani finally made her way over to the group of guys, who were still laughing and wiping the last remnants of champagne off their clothes. Their cheers were loud and genuine as they greeted her, clearly impressed by her win.

"Imani, that was insane!" Ja'Marr said, his grin wide as he clapped her on the back.

"You absolutely crushed it out there," Tee added, shaking his head in awe. "That last lap? Unstoppable."

Imani grinned, her pride shining through, but her humility was just as evident. "Thanks, guys," she replied, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "But really, it was all about the team. I couldn’t have done it without these guys," she motioned to her crew, who stood nearby, still celebrating.

She paused for a moment before giving a playful shrug. "And sorry about all the champagne... I may have gotten a little carried away." Her smile was wide, but there was a sheepish undertone, especially when she noticed some of the guys’ soaked shirts.

The boys laughed, brushing it off immediately. Sam raised his hands. "It’s all good, Imani. That’s what victory smells like."

"You’ve definitely got the victory dance down," Joe added with a teasing grin, wiping some champagne from his sleeve. "I’ll take the soggy shirt for a win like that."

Imani’s grin widened. "Good, 'cause it’s not like I can do much about it now." She gave them a playful shrug, and the guys laughed again, clearly enjoying the light-hearted moment.

Before they could continue chatting, a team member called Imani’s name from the sidelines, pulling her attention away. “Time for more photos, champ!”

She nodded, feeling the weight of the celebration and excitement settle into her bones. "I’ll be right back." She gave the guys a small wave as she started walking toward the photographers, but not before calling out to her best friend and trainer, Jade, who was standing by with her things.

"Jade! My phone!" Imani called, her voice still upbeat despite the flurry of attention surrounding her.

Jade was quick to hand over the phone with a sly grin on her face. "You know, I think someone’s already waiting for you." She raised an eyebrow suggestively, glancing over her shoulder toward Joe, who was still with the guys.

Imani didn’t try to hide her smile, but she gave Jade a pointed look. "Oh, don’t start." She quickly unlocked her phone and typed a message, her fingers moving fast. She sent Joe a quick text:

Imani: Meet me in my motorcade after this. I'll have someone from the team take you there.

Jade smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You’re being a little sneaky, huh? You’ve definitely got something going on with him, don’t you?"

Imani rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips tugged into a smile. "You know me, Jade. I’m just making the most of a little downtime."

Jade leaned in as Imani finished typing and handed the phone back to her. "Well, I’m not gonna lie, I’m curious to see where this is going. You two are practically a walking flirtation, and I’m living for it."

Imani shot her a playful look, but before she could respond, she was swept away by the photographers, who were eager to capture every angle of her victory. As they snapped picture after picture, Imani couldn’t help but wonder what Joe’s reaction would be when he got the message.

The excitement of the win was still fresh, but now, she was just as eager to see him. After all, a win like this wasn’t complete without sharing it with someone who had been there in the background, even if only through their own flirtatious, teasing moments.

—

The flurry of flashes and camera clicks seemed to fade away as Imani wrapped up the last of the post-race photos. She was still floating from the rush of her victory, but there was a different kind of anticipation pulling her forward now. After a final, bright smile for the photographers, she excused herself, stepping away from the chaos of the track and toward her motorcade.

As she approached the row of vehicles, her eyes quickly found Joe. He was leaning casually against one of the camper trailers, his posture relaxed, a stark contrast to the intensity of the race that had just ended. His focus was on his phone, fingers scrolling with a calm concentration, his Bengals cap pulled low over his eyes. The late afternoon sun reflected off the chrome of the nearby cars, casting a golden light around him, making him look like he belonged in one of those movie scenes—cool, effortlessly composed.

Imani stood there for a moment, admiring the way he seemed so at ease, so different from the noise of the track. It was clear he didn’t belong here in the midst of the racing frenzy, but something about that made him stand out even more. She could feel the familiar flutter of anticipation in her chest, her heart speeding up a bit as she took in the sight of him.

Then, with a small, almost imperceptible smirk playing at her lips, she cleared her throat, knowing the sound would carry. Joe looked up, his expression shifting from absorbed focus to a playful grin as he spotted her standing a few feet away, her arms still crossed, her racing suit loosely tied at her waist.

"Well, well, look who finally shows up," he teased, his voice low and warm, giving her that signature mischievous look that always made her stomach do a little flip.

Imani rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. "Sorry, I had to do my victory lap," she said, her tone light but with that playful edge. She raised an eyebrow, scanning him as she walked closer. "Not bad for a quarterback. I thought you were gonna make a run for it when you saw all the cameras."

Joe laughed, tucking his phone into his pocket and standing up straighter, making his way toward her with a laid-back yet purposeful stride. "I didn’t want to get in the way of the real star of the show," he said, his voice soft but clearly teasing. "Besides, I figured you'd be busy with your well-earned celebration. But, uh, I was just killing time."

Imani chuckled, her eyes bright with amusement. "Busy celebrating? I think I’m just getting started."

Her words hung in the air for a second before she took a step closer, standing right in front of him. The tension that had been simmering between them over the past few days, that pull-and-push dynamic, was suddenly palpable. There was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore.

"So," she began, her eyes twinkling as she let her gaze roam over him, taking in the way he seemed to fill the space around him, effortless and calm. "How does it feel to be up close and personal with a champion?"

Joe’s grin widened, but his expression shifted slightly, something a little more serious behind those playful eyes. "I gotta say, it’s pretty damn impressive. But I knew you had it in you," he replied, his voice lower now, and the words felt heavier than the usual teasing banter.

Imani smiled, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice. "Well, I’m glad you came to watch. Might’ve had a little more fun with you there," she said, a playful tone returning to her voice as she casually leaned against the side of the camper, looking up at him. "But I’m assuming you have some other plans, don’t you? You know, big game and all that?"

Joe’s grin remained, though his expression softened as Imani’s words lingered in the air between them. His usual playful demeanor was still there, but something else flickered in his eyes—a depth that wasn’t there before. He took a step closer, his voice quieter now, as if the moment demanded a little more honesty.

"You know, I actually don’t have anything on my itinerary for the rest of the night," he said, his voice carrying just the right amount of intrigue. "Maybe I’ll stick around for the celebration after all."

Imani’s lips curved into a playful smile as she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, so now you’re interested?" she teased, but the playful edge was softened by the way her gaze lingered on him, a spark of something more in her eyes.

She didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his before she gently took his hand, her touch light yet deliberate. The moment their hands met, there was an electric current that ran between them, like a spark that ignited something unspoken.

Without a word, she led him toward her motorcade, the small set of stairs leading up to the door. Her heart raced a little faster, and as she climbed the first step, she glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes holding his for just a beat longer than usual. The tension between them was almost tangible, thickening the air as she reached the top of the stairs and waited for him to follow.

When he did, stepping up next to her, the space between them felt charged, as if the whole world outside her motorcade had faded into the background. All that mattered was the moment, and in that moment, she was acutely aware of the way his presence filled the space around her, the intensity of his gaze locking with hers as he followed her inside.

Imani stepped into the dimly lit motorcade, the interior warm with the glow of soft lighting. It was a far cry from the loud chaos of the track, and for a brief second, she allowed herself to breathe deeply, the victory and the adrenaline still lingering in her veins. But as she stood there, waiting for Joe to step in behind her, her attention shifted back to him. The air between them felt thick, the pull of the attraction between them undeniable.

"Make yourself at home," she said, her voice a little breathier than usual as she glanced around the small but comfortable space. She set her helmet down on the counter and turned toward him, her fingers still lightly brushing against his. "There’s no rush."

Joe stepped fully inside, his gaze never leaving hers. The door closed softly behind him, shutting them off from the rest of the world. For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. It was as if time had slowed down, the space around them charged with anticipation. He took a step toward her, the tension between them rising with every inch.

"Nice setup," Joe said, his voice low, and though his words were casual, the way his eyes studied her—focused, intense—spoke volumes.

Imani smiled, but it was softer this time, her heart beating faster in her chest. "Thanks," she replied, her voice still playful but with a trace of something deeper. "I like it. It’s... quiet, after the madness of the race."

Joe nodded, taking a small step closer, closing the gap between them. "I can imagine." His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes, the unspoken words between them hanging in the air. "But I think... this is a little quieter, too."

The words were a whisper, but they felt loud enough for both of them. The pull between them was undeniable now, and Imani could feel her breath catch in her chest as he stood inches away, his presence almost overwhelming.

She met his gaze with her own, something soft and unguarded flickering in her expression. "Yeah," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "A lot quieter."

And just like that, the playful barrier that had separated them—the teasing, the games—began to dissolve. The moment stretched between them, heavy with possibilities. Imani felt the world outside her motorcade fade away, and for the first time, it was just the two of them in this quiet space, the tension between them electric, as they stood on the brink of something neither of them had quite figured out yet.

The tension between them hung in the air like a fine mist, palpable and undeniable. Imani could feel it, the electricity between them buzzing quietly, building with every small movement and glance. She tried to shake it off, but it lingered, the unspoken weight of their proximity making her heart race.

She flashed Joe a smile, trying to keep things casual, despite the undercurrent of excitement running through her veins. "You're welcome to a drink or snack, if you want. Help yourself," she said, her tone light as she made her way to the back of the motorcade.

Her eyes stayed briefly on Joe as she moved, watching him as he looked around the space. There was something about his quiet demeanor that made her heart skip—something about how he seemed so at ease, even as the air between them crackled with tension. But she didn’t let herself linger on that. She needed a moment to herself.

The bed in the back was large, the sheets a crisp white that contrasted with the dark wood paneling around the room. The space was calm and soothing, a safe haven after the chaos of the race and the frenzy of the post-race celebration. Imani slipped out of the champagne-soaked race suit and, with a quick sigh of relief, tossed it aside. She changed into something more comfortable—loose pajama shorts that hung casually on her hips, and a zip-up jacket with her name and race number on the back.

The fabric felt soft against her skin, a welcome change from the tight, sweaty suit she’d been wearing for hours. She ran a hand through her hair, the boho butterfly braids now slightly loose from the celebrations, before glancing back toward the front of the motorcade, half-expecting Joe to still be there.

Imani felt a little lighter now, the weight of the race and her victory finally starting to settle. She moved back toward the front, her fingers brushing against the wall as she walked, her gaze finding Joe again. She could feel the heat between them, stronger now, and despite her usually composed demeanor, her pulse quickened as she approached.

There was a quiet moment as she stood before him, her eyes flicking over him for a brief second before she caught herself. She straightened, trying to act casual, but the soft smile on her lips betrayed her.

“You good?” she asked, her voice light, though the look in her eyes spoke volumes. "Help yourself, like I said. There’s a fridge, and snacks in the cabinets."

Imani leaned against the counter, the casual posture belying the fact that she was very much aware of how close they were now. She tucked a stray braid behind her ear, trying to focus on anything but the way the tension was shifting between them.

Everything felt different now, the playful energy they’d shared earlier suddenly becoming something more—something deeper.

“You good?” she asked, her voice light, though the look in her eyes spoke volumes. "Help yourself, like I said. There’s a fridge, and snacks in the cabinets."

Everything felt different now, the playful energy they’d shared earlier suddenly becoming something more—something deeper.

Joe was hungry for something else, someone else.

He stood and walked towards her, Imani takes a step away and her back meets the counter. She was nervous and could feel her heart racing, but she couldn't deny the fact that she wanted him.

He reached out, running his finger across her cheek. She shivered at his touch, her lips parting slightly as she looked up at him, the unspoken desire between them almost palpable.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice softer now, all the playful banter gone. She was acutely aware of how close he was, his body practically pressed against hers, and she found herself wondering if he could feel her racing heartbeat through her jacket. "Hey." Joe whispered back, his voice deep with something more as his eyes trailed down her face. He could feel his self restraint hanging on by a thread, he had to taste her lips on his. He had to have her underneath him.

Imani’s breath caught as he stepped even closer, their bodies almost flush now. The air felt charged between them, every nerve in her body on edge with anticipation. She could smell his cologne, a faint but intoxicating scent that seemed to wrap around her senses, pulling her closer.

His hand trailed down her cheek, his thumb gently brushing along her bottom lip as his gaze held hers. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said, his words barely above a whisper, but they held a weight that made her stomach flip.

He could see the way her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling faster, betraying the desire she couldn’t hide. She nodded, her own voice lost somewhere in the space between them.

“Please,” she breathed, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

He leaned in, closing the gap between them, his lips meeting hers in a soft, tentative kiss. But the moment they made contact, it was as if something clicked into place. The kiss deepened, his mouth moving against hers with a hunger they could no longer ignore.

Imani melted into the kiss, her hands finding his arms, gripping them tightly as she lost herself in the sensation of his lips on hers. It was everything she hadn’t known she wanted—passionate, intense, and utterly consuming. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of this moment.

As the kiss intensified, Imani found herself pushing back against him, her body arching into his as her fingers curled into his shirt. Joe responded by pulling her closer, one hand sliding around her waist to hold her tight while the other cupped the back of her neck, keeping her mouth pressed to his.

The kiss was a mix of slow and gentle, like they were still trying to figure each other out, and desperate, like they couldn’t get enough. Joe’s tongue swiped at her bottom lip, seeking entry, and Imani opened for him with a soft moan, her own tongue meeting his as they explored each other with an intensity that left them both breathless.

He broke the kiss first, pulling back just enough to look at her, his breathing heavy and his eyes dark with desire. Imani’s lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes reflected the same hunger that burned inside him.

“Imani,” he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. “Tell me you want this.” His words were a plea and a promise all at once.

Imani swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated, the moment hanging between them like a challenge, a promise, a fear.

“I… I do,” she said finally, her voice trembling slightly, but there was a resolve in her gaze that matched his own. “I want this. I want you.”

The words hung in the air like a dare, a silent agreement that neither of them could back away from now. Joe’s eyes darkened even more, the last of his restraint slipping away as he heard the confirmation he’d been waiting for.

“Good,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Imani’s breath hitched as he leaned in again, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. This one was different though—less tentative, more demanding. It was like the floodgates had opened, all the pent-up tension and attraction pouring out in this single, desperate act.

She met his intensity with her own, her hands sliding up his arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The air around them felt electric, charged with the passion that had been building between them for so long.

As the kiss deepened, Joe’s hands began to roam her body, exploring every curve and contour that he’d secretly admired from afar. His touch was both gentle and possessive, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to savor her or devour her whole.

Imani felt like she was drowning in the sensation, her senses overwhelmed by the feel of his hands on her, the taste of him on her tongue, and the sound of his breathing, heavy and labored, in her ear. She had never been kissed like this before—like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

He broke the kiss again, his lips trailing down her jaw to the sensitive spot on her neck, just below her ear. Imani gasped as he sucked and nibbled at her skin, each touch sending waves of pleasure through her body.

“Joe,” she breathed, her hands tangling in his hair as she held him close, urging him to continue.

He didn’t need any encouragement. His hands were busy undoing the zipper of her jacket, peeling it off her shoulders as his mouth continued its exploration of her neck and collarbone. The cool air of the motorcade hit her skin, but she didn’t feel cold—not with the heat radiating from Joe’s body as he pressed himself against her.

As he pushed the jacket off her arms, his lips found hers again, capturing her in another passionate kiss. Imani could feel herself getting lost in the sensation, the world around her melting away until all that was left was the two of them and this undeniable attraction.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers as he searched her face for any sign of hesitation. What he found instead was a mirror of his own desire—a look that spoke volumes without saying a word.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky with want, but there was a tenderness in his tone that showed he cared, that this wasn’t just about physical need for him.

Imani didn’t hesitate. She knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to let fear or doubt stop her now. “Yes,” she said, her voice firm and clear. “I want you, Joe.”

Something in his expression shifted at her words, a mix of relief and raw desire washing over his features. He pulled her back in, kissing her with a passion that left no room for doubt.

As their bodies pressed together, Imani could feel the heat building between them, a fire that threatened to consume them both. She knew that there was no going back now, not when she had finally tasted what it was like to be in his arms.

And as they lost themselves in each other, the rest of the world faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of them and the undeniable pull that had led them here.

Imani could feel Joe's hands roaming her body, touching her in ways she had never been touched before. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of racing, but his touch was gentle as he explored her skin. She felt a shiver run down her spine as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, his teeth grazing her lobe before he began to kiss down her neck.

Imani's breath hitched as his lips moved lower, tracing a path along her collarbone and down to the swell of her breasts. His hands moved to cup them through her shirt, his thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she arched into his touch, wanting more.

"Joe," she whispered, her voice breathy and filled with need.

He pulled back, looking into her eyes with a question in his own. "You okay?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

Imani nodded, reaching up to pull him back down to her. "Don't stop," she breathed against his lips.

Joe didn't need to be told twice. He claimed her mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers as his hands moved to the hem of her shirt. He broke the kiss long enough to pull the shirt over her head, tossing it aside before his lips were back on her skin.

Imani felt exposed, but she didn't care. She wanted Joe to see all of her, to touch every inch of her body. She reached behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Joe's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her bare breasts, his hands moving to cup them, his thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks of her nipples.

Imani gasped at the sensation, her head falling back as Joe's mouth moved to her breasts, his tongue swirling around one nipple before taking it into his mouth. She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him close as he sucked and licked, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

"Joe," she moaned, her hips bucking against his as she felt his erection pressed against her stomach.

He pulled back, a sly grin spreading across his face. "I've got you," he promised, his voice thick with need. "Let me take care of you."

Imani nodded, her breath coming in short pants as Joe's hands moved to her jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down her legs. He helped her step out of them, leaving her in just her panties. Imani felt a rush of self-consciousness, but it was quickly forgotten as Joe's hands skimmed up her legs, his fingers brushing against the wet fabric of her panties.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his eyes meeting hers with a look of awe. "Is this all for me?"

Imani nodded, unable to form words as Joe's fingers began to rub her through the fabric, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through her. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to keep herself grounded.

Joe's fingers slipped into her panties, finding her clit and circling it with just the right amount of pressure. Imani's hips jerked, and she moaned his name, her eyes locked on his.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice teasing, but his eyes were serious as he watched her react to his touch.

"Yes," she breathed, her hips moving in time with his fingers. "Please, Joe. Don't stop."

He didn't. His fingers continued to work her clit, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Imani could feel her orgasm building, her muscles tensing as she got closer to release. Joe's name fell from her lips like a prayer as she teetered on the brink.

But then he pulled away, and she cried out as her release died down. "Why?" she panted, her hips jerking as she was left teetering on the edge. "Why'd you stop?"

Joe didn't answer. Instead, he picked her up, his hands holding her under her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Imani clung to him, kissing him deeply as he carried her to the back of the bus. Her heart was pounding, her body aching with need.

As they reached the bed, Joe laid her down gently, his eyes never leaving hers. Imani watched him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel her panties sticking to her skin, soaked with her arousal, and she knew that Joe could see it too.

Joe pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the side before he leaned over her, his hands on either side of her head as he looked down at her. Imani's eyes trailed over his chest, taking in the sight of his taut muscles and his physique. He was beautiful, she thought, her heart skipping a beat as he leaned down to kiss her.

"You're beautiful," he murmured against her lips, his hands moving to her hair, tugging lightly on the strands. "So fucking beautiful."

Imani blushed, feeling a rush of pleasure at his words. "Thank you," she whispered, her hands moving to his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos. "You're not so bad yourself."

Joe chuckled, the sound low and husky. "Glad you think so," he said before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Imani wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her as she kissed him back. She could feel his erection pressed against her hip, and she rolled her own against him, feeling a jolt of pleasure at the friction.

Joe groaned, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down her neck. "You keep doing that, and I won't last long," he warned, his voice rough with need.

Imani bit her lip, a sly smile spreading across her face. "Maybe I don't want you to last," she teased, her hips rolling against him again.

Joe growled, nipping at her shoulder. "Oh yeah?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers with amusement. "You want me to cum in my pants like a horny teenager?"

Imani laughed, the sound breathy and full of desire. "Maybe," she teased again. "Maybe I want to watch you lose control."

Joe's eyes darkened with desire, his hips pushing against hers. "If you're gonna cum, it's gonna be from my mouth or my cock," he said, his voice thick with want.

Imani shivered at his words, her body aching for him. She nodded, biting her lip as she looked up at him.

"Okay," she whispered. "Show me."

Joe's hands moved to her panties, slipping them down her legs and tossing them aside. He parted her thighs, his hands pushing her legs open as he settled between them. Imani's heart was pounding, her breath catching in her throat as she watched him.

"Joe," she breathed, her voice trembling with anticipation.

"Shh," he soothed, his hands moving up her thighs. "I told you I'd take care of you, didn't I?"

Imani nodded, her hips lifting off the bed as his fingers brushed against her wet folds. "Yes," she gasped. "Please, Joe."

He leaned down, his mouth replacing his fingers as he licked a long stripe up her center. Imani cried out, her hands flying to his hair as she held him against her. He groaned against her, the sound sending vibrations through her core.

"So wet," he murmured against her skin. "So fucking wet for me."

Imani bit her lip, her hips jerking as he licked her again. "Joe," she moaned, unable to stop herself from chanting his name. "Joe, please."

He didn't answer her, at least not with words. Instead, he closed his lips around her clit, sucking gently as he slipped one finger inside of her. Imani arched off the bed, her fingers tightening in his hair as he began to move his finger in and out of her.

"Joe," she cried, her hips moving in time with the movement of his hand. "That feels so good."

He hummed against her clit, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through her. Imani could feel her release building, her muscles tensing. She was so close, she just needed a little more.

"Please," she begged, her voice breathless. "Joe, I'm so close. Please don't stop."

He added another finger, curling them inside of her to hit that spot that made her see stars. His tongue flicked over her clit, the sensation sending her spiraling towards her release.

"Fuck, Joe!" she cried, her voice echoing off the walls as her orgasm hit her. Her hips jerked, and her hands pulled at his hair as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Joe continued to lick and suck, drawing out her release until she was shaking with the aftershocks. Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with her release. Imani watched him through heavy eyes, her body still trembling with pleasure.

He stood, pulling off his jeans and boxers before he climbed onto the bed, settling between her thighs. Joe was big. So big it made her mouth water, and her thighs clench in anticipation. “You can take it, baby, I know you can. Gotta treat the winner how she deserves, hm?” He said. She smiled, nodding. “Mmhm. And I’m the winner,” she reminded him, her thumb brushing over the head of his cock, spreading the drop of precum around. “So you have to do what I say.”

Joe’s eyes flashed with amusement and arousal, his hand gripping her wrist as she stroked him. “Is that so?” he asked, leaning down to brush his lips against hers in a teasing kiss.

Imani nodded again, her other hand moving to his chest to push him onto his back. He went willingly, a smirk playing on his lips as she straddled him. “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “I won. So you have to listen to me.”

“And what do you want me to do?” he asked, his hands gripping her hips as she sat up, her wet center pressed against his length.

Imani bit her lip. She lifted her hips, reaching between them to position him at her entrance. “I want you to fuck me,” she said, looking down at him with a mixture of desire and challenge in her gaze. “I want you to make me cum again.”

Imani reached for him, her hand wrapping around his length, stroking him slowly as she watched him watch her.

"Imani," he growled, his hands gripping her hips. "If you don't stop, I'm going to cum before I even get inside of you."

Imani smiled, biting her lip. "Maybe that's what I want," she teased, continuing to stroke him.

Joe growled again, this time pulling her hand away and pinning it to the bed. Imani laughed, the sound cut off as Joe claimed her lips in a bruising kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, and it only made her want him more.

"I want you inside of me," she whispered against his lips. "Please, Joe."

He nodded, reaching for his jeans to pull out a condom. Imani took it from him, ripping it open with her teeth before she rolled it down his length. Joe's eyes were dark with desire as he watched her, his hips jerking when she squeezed him gently.

Once the condom was on, Joe leaned down, kissing her deeply as he positioned himself at her entrance. Imani wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close as she felt the head of his cock pushing inside of her.

She moaned into the kiss, breaking it to gasp as he filled her completely. "Oh fuck, Joe," she breathed, her nails digging into his back. "You feel so good."

"You too, baby," he panted, his hips starting to move as he thrust in and out of her. "So fucking tight. So wet."

Imani moaned, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust. "Yes, Joe," she cried, her eyes locking with his. "Just like that."

He groaned, even through the thin layer of latex sheathing his cock, she felt good. Too good. She felt like home.

Imani gasped as Joe lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting that spot deep inside of her that drove her wild. She threw her head back, her eyes rolling as she swore she could see fucking stars.

“Joe—” she gasped, her hand flailing out and gripping the pillow above her head. “Oh my god…”

“Yeah, baby?” Joe asked, his hands gripping the headboard for leverage as he pounded into her. “Tell me how it feels.”

“So good—” she panted. “So fucking good.”

Joe groaned, his pace faltering at her words. “Imani, you feel too fucking good,” he grunted, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought for control. He didn’t want this to be over yet, not before she was screaming his name.

mani reached out, grabbing his hand and placing it on her throat. “Show me,” she begged, her own eyes dark with lust.

Joe felt his eyes darken, a possessive, primal growl rising from his chest as his hand tightened around her throat, applying just enough pressure to limit her airflow, but not enough to cut it off. Imani smiled, a feral, sexy smile that made his dick throb inside of her.

“Fuck baby,” Joe moaned, his hips losing their rhythm as he fucked her like a wild animal. “You into this kinky shit?”

Imani’s lips parted, her eyes pleading with him as she clawed at his back. “Yes, please, Joe,” she gasped.

“Shit,” Joe grunted, unable to resist the plea. He leaned down, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples as he continued to thrust into her and squeeze her neck.

Imani arched beneath him, her body writhing in his grasp as she approached her orgasm. “Fuck, yes!” she cried, her hands scrabbling at his wrist. “Joe, oh fuck!”

“Fuck open your mouth.” Joe groaned, Imani obliged as her tongue rolled out.

He leaned forward and spit in her mouth, his hand holding her jaw shut. “Keep it there until I tell you.”

Her nails scored down Joe's back as he continued hitting spots deep in her she never knew existed. Her mouth watered with his spit, but she kept her mouth closed, just like he told her.

"Fuck, baby, I'm close," he groaned, his own fingers finding her clit and rubbing in small, tight circles.

“Mmm,” Joe hummed, his own orgasm building as he felt her tightening around him.

He pulled back watching as she panted for breath. “You good, baby?” he asked, even though he could see that she was. Her face was flushed with pleasure, her lips parted as she moaned. Joe’s eyes darkened even further, and he felt a possessive wave of pride wash over him. She looked like a fucking goddess beneath him, and he couldn’t wait to watch her cum.

He pulled back, releasing her hips and throat as he stared down at her. “Swallow it.” he said gruffly, watching her throat bob she swallowed his spit.

Imani's eyes fluttered open, locking with Joe's as she felt her release just at arms length. Joe didn't stop, his fingers continuing to rub her clit as he watched her fall apart beneath him.

“Shit, baby, that’s it,” he encouraged, his own hips snapping faster as he chased his own release. “Cum for me, Imani. Let me see you cum.”

“Yes—oh god, yes,” Imani moaned, meeting his thrusts by lifting her hips up to meet his.

Joe grinned, a dark, feral thing as he gripped her hips, pulling her harder onto his cock. “That’s it, baby,” he panted. “Take it, take it all.”

Imani met his thrusts eagerly, lifting her hips to meet him as they found a rhythm that was both rough and intimate. The pleasure was building again inside of her, and she could tell by the way Joe's muscles tensed that he was close too.

She reached between them, her fingers slipping down to find her clit, and she began to rub in small circles. Joe groaned, his eyes locked on her as he watched her touch herself, her eyes closing as she focused on the pleasure.

"Fuck, Imani," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his own release approaching. "You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna cum on my cock?"

Imani nodded, her eyes squeezing shut as she focused on the sensations building inside of her. "Yes, Joe, fuck, yes."

She rubbed faster, her fingers circling her clit with just the right amount of pleasure. “Yes!” Imani cried, her body bowing beneath him. “Just like that! Yes! Yes!”

Joe released her throat, allowing her to draw in a deep breath before she screamed, her orgasm tearing through her as he felt her convulsing around him. He groaned, following her over the edge as he buried his face in her neck, emptying himself inside of her.

"Joe!"

She came, her body shaking as wave after wave of release washed over her. She heard Joe's groan, felt his hips stutter before he followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing inside of her as he filled the condom.

For a moment, they both lay still, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. Finally, Joe pulled out, tying off the condom and tossing it in the trash before he collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed together as they caught their breath. Finally, Joe pulled back, looking down at her with a soft smile.

"Hey," he said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Imani smiled back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Hey," she replied, her voice soft.

Joe leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes, his own filled with warmth. "You okay?" he asked, making sure she was alright.

Imani nodded, snuggling closer to him. "Yeah," she said, her eyes starting to drift shut. "I'm great."

“Fuck baby.” Joe panted, collapsing on top of her. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”

Imani smiled lazily, her body sated and relaxed. "Mmm," she agreed, her eyes closing as Joe rolled off of her and disposed of the condom. "Definitely one for the memory books."

Joe laughed, pulling her close as they lay on the bed together. Imani rested her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as it slowly returned to normal.

Imani cuddled close to him, her head on his chest as she listened to the rapid beating of his heart. "That was amazing," she whispered, a sated smile on her face.

Joe chuckled, his hand running through her hair. "Yeah, it was," he agreed. "You're fucking incredible, Imani."

Imani blushed at his praise, but she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. She felt boneless, relaxed in a way she hadn't been in a long time.

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes heavy with sleep. "For everything."

Joe pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Anything for you, Imani," he promised. "Anything."

Imani smiled again, drifting off to sleep in the safety of Joe's arms. She knew that whatever happened next, she could face it. She had Joe by her side, and that was all that mattered.

"So," Joe said, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. "Want to do it again?"

Imani grinned, lifting her head to look up at him. "Give me ten minutes, and I'm game."

Joe chuckled, pulling her back down to his chest. "Take all the time you need, baby. We've got all night."

JB9 Taglist: @lilfreakjez, @dasia21, @superanastasia1981, @gg-trini, @wickedfun9

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bladekindeyewear · 4 months ago

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Light/Void and Ascent/Descent, Outward/Inward

I was helped in putting together something pretty huge this week, Aspect-ways. Sometimes lately, I've been chatting with Taz (aka optimisticDuelist, @utopianparadoxist) and we discuss or debate over character and Aspect interpretations, or they link me some interesting thoughts they've posted blogways or from a third party. This time we were discussing a post they made on Void's potential connection to Gravity and all its potential conflated meanings, such as Love pulling things together, which they based on analysis stemming from @lime-bloods's Void/Home association theoryposts -- I was skeptical of this Gravity interpretation, for reasons I'll go into later below the cut, but one of those reasons was I felt as if paired terms between Light and Void are important when solidifying the domains of each Aspect, and I couldn't think of one for Void's "Gravity" that had a Light equivalent. For example, recently I had the belated inspiration in terminology, for instance, that Light is "Location" where Void is "Dislocation", a perfect tie between Light's links to Maps and Landmarks contrasting it with Pumpkin-like "disconnectedness from spacetime" and ability to appear anywhere, which I quickly added to the Aspect Duality post in late February (I should add the edit date in on that).

And while we were tossing the idea around, we stumbled on another set of even MORE important paired Light/Void terms that made me do an acrobatic pirouette off the fucking handle. I got permission to paste the conversation:

BOOTS: otherwise there might be other aspects that better fit what's going on

((does Light "Push" where Void "Pulls"? could that be it? no, that sounds more like Breath and Blood…))

((actually that might be really important to Breath and Blood, shit! wind pushes forward/outward, chains pull in))

TAZ: I think its pretty fair to say that its a nebulous and abstract reading where a lot of the evidence is hard to parse, like I said at the end of the post I definitely still feel like I'm missing stuff about Void

And I also agree that other aspects have a lot of room to play in this space and overtake Void in readings, primarily Heart and Blood in this context

BOOTS: ((and the "inescapability" of black holes carried Blood associations with other inescapable things))

TAZ: Indeed

TAZ: But isn't that part of the nature of Void? To be a subtle force that falls into the backdrop and lets other things more visibly take over?

BOOTS: you could call that descending into the Ocean, into the abyss over a cliff, into irrelevance; it's Descent, but not necessarily Gravi---

AAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

TAZ: Well this is exciting

BOOTS: LIGHT IS ASCENT, VOID IS DESCENT

TAZ: Yeah, I can see that

BOOTS: there are so many fucking associations across the comic and I'm remembering so many of them oh my god

And that Gravity is wrapped up in this association as everything is naturally PULLED DOWN. The rest of the conversation is under the Read More cut where we started listing out more than a dozen freakin' examples to each other that show how UTTERLY PERVASIVE a theme this has been throughout the entire goddamn comic, from the start right up to and including the very latest update of Beyond Canon. (Contains HS^2/Beyond Canon spoilers if you're coming here from elsewhere, stop reading here if you're not caught up to the 2025-03-26 update!)

EDIT: (Just a brief note I'm adding to this above the cut, but a Discord friend just gave me ANOTHER association to add to Light and Void: Outward vs Inward, Light's outward projection the pair to Void's inward gravity!!! Shining Stars versus Black Holes! Void's Inwardness finally brings together its metaphysical ties with Heart and how the latter often sits isolated in the Ocean of Void like Dirk's house, the natural inward-looking nature of Heart-- compared to the outward-facing nature of Mind and its façades, tying Light and Mind together like Vriska and Terezi!)

TAZ: It might almost apply as a broad division to the upper and lower halves of the wheel in general, actually?

BOOTS: even in this LAST update they go UP to enter Canon a black hole is always Down

TAZ: But I like it as Light and Void specifically right now, lets examine that

Yeah yeah BOOTS: Looking at Light almost always entails looking Up, looking down is usually staring into the Void, with the exception of Derse players staring out into the Ring

mainly abysses and oceans with looking down TAZ: Dirk's consumption by Ultself is described as him being subsumed into the Ocean/descending into its watery depths, while Rose outright says about hers "I am ascending, and it is terrible"

BOOTS: Rose begins her grimdark path by destroying her first (UPWARD) Gate and rocketing off elsewhere and of course she's the prime example shown off by the comic of the Descend-before-you-Ascend of role inversion

TAZ: And Heart is on the lower half of the wheel with Blood and across from Void. So maybe there's something there

mmmhmm, mmhmm

BOOTS: it's been said even in like, Andrew's commentary outside the comic, that "Skaia is always Up"

it's never shown setting

TAZ: And of course they shoot the meteor Up towards the Green Sun

BOOTS: and the trolls see the creation-splosion of the green sun Up to direct them in Cascade--

yeah, exactly [what you said]

TAZ: Terezi's looking slightly Upwards as she remem8er's Vriska in [S] Remem8er

(Vriska) and (Terezi) staring Up into the Light of paradox space breaking

it really is all over the place, huh

for that matter, (Vriska) and Meenah looking Up into the fireworks as (Vriska) comes to the true realizations she does about how miserable it is to live the way Vriska and Lord English live

BOOTS: going against your hero role, Descending, is so often denying your true self agency and straying away from philosophical Truth-- after which comes the Ascent where you find and accept yourself

oh and by going into what's been constantly called HELL inside the Plot Point and then emerging out stronger, Vriska "descended" ala Dante's Inferno and then Ascended out of it

TAZ: indeed! indeed

Oh! Dirk and Hal's conversation on the rooftop!

Dirk sits on the side of his home and is literally staring down at both a long plummet/implied s*****e and literally into his Shades/his own Self

BOOTS: hell, if you wanted to make a pun of any love association, instead of gravity you could call it falling in love!

There's just SO MUCH MORE to this, so many examples of Light and importance and enlightenment and Skaia's philosophical truth being UP or involving ascent, where anything that drops or falls DOWN into the water or off cliffs becomes dislocated and its relevance unknown until it might eventually perhaps resurface unpredictably elsewhere. Tavros being driven down off a cliff by the Thief of Light to break his legs and stunt the playful drive he needed to become a fully realized Page of Breath, Aranea's snapped-neck body being dropped into the flames to fade into such irrelevance that she never surfaced post-Retcon, Vriska stealing all the luck/Light from the enemy creature in the first Meteor walkaround and it falling into a collapsing dark pit, so many people always going UP to reach concrete destinations, Roxy and others crashing DOWN through fenestrated windows and falling to reach the Furthest Ring, and of course there's always the Jung psychology stuff that was woven into Sburb (as I've reiterated in the past) and an essential metaphor for Descending into your shadow and Ascending from it to merge your shadow self with your conscious self for true self-acceptance and balance, like Vriska just did in the Plot Point, like the normal Quest Bed method of attaining God-Tier merging the Real and Dream selves and everyone looking Upward to see John RISE UP and achieve ascension: (From an older edit of the Wikipedia page for the Jungian Shadow--)

Nevertheless, Jung remained of the opinion that while “no one should deny the danger of the descent […] every descent is followed by an ascent”, and assimilation of—rather than possession by—the shadow becomes a possibility.

“We begin to travel [up] through the healing spirals…straight up.”

As I've said before, the game IS the psychotheraputic journey from start to finish, complete with the same monumental challenges, pitfalls, rejection and acceptance (of help and of oneself!) that all sorts of different people must confront in order to simultaneously fully appreciate and become themselves, and also become the people they truly want to be. Skaia's Light and the path it guides players on thus represents a journey to one's philosophical enlightenment about oneself, their ASCENT, and the challenges and misleading dejection that causes them to reject this journey and fight against their natures is DESCENT, so often involving the Horrorterrors who embody the essence of Void in nature and motive.

Gosh when you think of all the times "UP" or "DOWN" has been the focus of major or even offhand scenes or panels, there's just SO MUCH that fits them into Light and Void respectively. I couldn't possibly begin to list all the examples, you're probably noticing more in your mind as you read this post.

I'm going to integrate this Ascent/Descent meaning into the Aspect Duality post's sections on Light and Void, and link this post there, but before we finish I wanna delve into the potential Gravitation meaning of Void that optimisticDuelist brought up and reasons I might agree or be skeptical of the ties drawn in their post... especially stemming from this Rose quote they included:

That seems to tie Void pretty inarguably to Gravitation, or perhaps the vacuum pull of nothingness, but because I didn't have a clear counter-meaning in Light I wanted to look up the full context of this quote when I made this post... (readmspa.org is a very useful tool while Homestuck.com is down and mimics the old manual search function)--

ROSE: Or what about, the tale of Isaac Newdon under the tree?? He was BONKED on the head by an apple. ROSE: Not reallyan apple though… an atomic idea. An emlemental unit of inspripation itself, id clocked him right on then noggin. ROSE: And this indivisible notion colliding with hish awareness, much like.. . a high speed partical fired to create a nuculear chain reacation, jarred from the void a more profund unnerstand, HIC, ing of the intrinsic nature of nothiness. Thatis,. Gravivitation. ROSE: Of course thess stories are acutually bullshit. They didn't happen in realaity. But thef act that they'rare bullshit makes them more inshresting. ROSE: Men have crefted many stories that are bullshit out of symbols risen from the abyss of coinsciousness withou necesharily knowing whath e fuck they were doing or saying, as they flounered around for some truth. ROSE: Bust in spite of themseleves they would for howefer briefly cross through a ray of light regarless. Becuss of the sbymbols. Dave.. The symbols hol dall the power.

Taz also mentioned that a commenter in their server pointed out that this Gravitation quote and the reference to a high-speed particle collider could also be an intentional reference by Andrew to the Graviton, the theoretical elementary particle responsible for mass and its gravitational force that has so far not been detected/discovered yet, remaining obscured (Void) compared to the particles tied to the other elemental forces.

Black Holes ALWAYS had strong ties to Void, the ultimate sinks for the destruction of information, ultimate darkness, (ultimate Down/descent), the compression of all meaning and separation into a melange forever irrelevant to the rest of Reality beyond one's Event Horizon (thanks @sagaciouscejai for the reminder). And in the Epilogues forward, "Non-Canon" belongs to the great Black Hole and everything that falls nigh-inescapably into it-- as opposed to Canon's comparative association with Light and story importance. But, hm... if Void is "down" and "descent" and the "abyss of [Jung's collective] consciousness", to what extent is it important as "Gravity" specifically, as well? Or is that just tied to the fundamental concept of "down" in the comic's metaphysical framework? Taz mentioned Dirk linked to gravitation to tidal forces too, hence the Ocean which is Void-linked. Does Gravity have a balancing opposite in Light that I can put into keywords besides "Up/Down" or "Ascent/Descent"? And if it DOESN'T have a balancing concept in Light... could Gravitation be part of Void's tie to Space that explains them as neighbors, a shared domain that Space and Void might possess?

In the end I think I'm positive toward Rose's speech and the fact of Black Holes (as well as "DOWN/DESCENT") establishing a definite tie between Gravity and Void, but where I'd disagree with Taz is how over the rest of their original post they pointed to "succumbing" to toxic influences and generational trauma as a sort of Gravity, which I'd disagree with and say has more to do with Void's existing and known "submission and divestment of agency" associations, as well as Centrality coming from it (which I'd have to reconcile with Light's "Location" meaning) not quite adding up for me, and Love as stemming from Gravity which I really don't think has enough in-comic evidence tying the two together. If we eventually deduce that Love has some Void associations-- and the Void characters we've met have certainly been more than a little Love-obsessed at times-- I expect that any association would have to stem from Void's other established meanings such as the submission of agency required by a relationship as opposed to making all the decisions yourself (Light's agency) and hogging the spotlight, like the contrast between Vriska and (Vriska) toward the end of Homestuck proper. There's more to lime-bloods's post that I haven't given enough thinking time to, like Voids always being the central seeding-place for new creation like a Womb, which would ALSO explain its proximity to Space on the official wheel... but, yeah. Those are all my in-progress thoughts on that for the moment, anyway. ((EDIT: "Outward vs Inward" like I mentioned above the cut finally completes the Gravity association!))

I'm still blown away by how clearly Light and Void can mean "UP and "DOWN", can mean "ASCENT" and "DESCENT", that's... just such a blindingly stunning revelation for us to have come to so late, IMO. I bet there's half a dozen theorists out there who put it together AGES sooner and I just never saw their posts. Wow. :D

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #Homestuck^2 #upd8 #spoiler #spoilers #Light and Void #Homestuck Theories #Homestuck Theory #Classes and Aspects #Aspect Duality #optimisticDuelist #utopianParadoxist #lime-bloods #Heart and Mind #sagaciouscejai #Beyond Canon

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shsl-hubris-guy · 7 months ago

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In-Depth Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 6: Hifumi Yamada

Finally, the 'analyses progressively getting longer' curse is broken! As excited as I am to do this next write-up, there's absolutely no chance Hifumi's analysis will hit anywhere near the length of Junko's. I estimate this'll fall closer into the length of Sayaka's if anything, but I'd love to be proven wrong and find more to his character than I anticipate.

I really do love making these. Each and every one so far has opened my eyes to new facets of these characters, and sharing my conclusions with you all and hearing your own thoughts brings me an indescribable amount of happiness. Truly, there is nothing like the hubris papers :D

As always, this analysis uses only official materials, primarily English localizations of the source material, and while I do my best to maintain objectivity, it is at its core an interpretation! If you aren't interested, keep scrolling, and if you don't like it, also keep scrolling

*Editing note, June 29, 2025: Reformatted things like headers & quotes for cleanup. No information or conclusions have been changed.

Part 1- Character Design

Hifumi sports a fairly typical looking and clean school uniform, neatly tucked in and collar folded. He wears with it an orange backpack that matches his tie in shade, and his tie and shoes have arrow imagery as well. His tie in particular has an double-headed arrow that points up and down over his torso. This is likely meant to reference his self-given nickname, The Beginning and the End, a biblical reference.

He keeps his hair slicked neatly into a small ahoge at the center of his head, wears round glasses, and has a cat lip and double chin. He's notably the only plus sized character in THH, and was given the title of SHSL Doujin Artist, or Ultimate Fanfic Creator. He's also noticeably very clean and neat, contrasting the otaku stereotype of being messy and disorganized.

Part 2- The Otaku Caricature: A Brief Summary

'Otakus' as they're commonly known are people that define themselves by their interest in stereotypically nerdy things to an almost obsessive degree. These people are often thought to be very good at subjects like math and science, and adore manga and/or anime. And when it comes to male otakus, they're often characterized as lonely perverts who can only find comfort and companionship in works of fiction because they're too pathetic and gross for any real person to like them, and/or because they're too obsessed with their beloved worlds of fiction to bother with making human connections. There's a lot more history behind how the otaku perception has shaped over time, but this is the basic gist of what you need to know if you're unfamiliar with otakus as a concept.

Hifumi in particular is meant to represent otaku culture as it appears in Japan, as many characters in THH are designed around subcultures themselves (Mondo with bosozoku, Chihiro with otokonoko, Junko with gyaru, etc.) and like these characters, he's designed to deconstruct what this culture represents and how people within this subculture are perceived. This is an idea that's present for most of the THH cast, but is especially noteworthy with Hifumi, because his story is one of the most immediately affected by his role within his subculture, to the point where his perception as a character is inextricably linked to public perception of this subculture.

Part 3- Character Introduction

Hifumi's first lines aren't directly known as his, but are swiftly revealed to be his once you connect the voice actor to the character. Notably, his first remark is to question the class size.

"So counting him, that makes fifteen. Seems like a good cut-off point, but I wonder if this is everyone..." -Hifumi Yamada, Prologue

When actually speaking directly to him, he introduces himself proudly, giving you his nickname- "The Alpha and the Omega", or The 'Beginning and the End' in its source language- and immediately bragging about his SHSL title and how many fancomics he's sold, even at his own school. Said works are self-described to be "about embracing our basest urges," something that immediately turns Makoto off the idea of even so much as looking at it.

Quite obviously, the implication here is smut, nudity, sex appeal, etc. "Basest urges" when referred to in the context of humans in fiction are commonly referring to sex, and coming from an otaku character, the stigma of horny, creepy anime lover is almost immediately set in place for our POV character by said comment, combined with the mention that his peers weren't all so excited to see his work in a school setting.

"Some of them didn't get it, of course, saying I'd 'tainted' the event. How stupid can you be!?" -Hifumi Yamada, Prologue

So our first given impression of him is that of a creepy otaku that draws and sells fanart of his waifus. Said impression relies on the player's prior exposure to otaku characters and their stereotypes, as well as a generalized amount of fatphobia(the fatphobia as a whole will be properly broken down at the end; stick with me until then bc it will be addressed properly) that lends itself into painting this early picture and setting up the building blocks for easy misperceptions of his future actions. Because while, yes, he does draw and sell fanart of his waifus, he's not the one-note pervert this initial impression would lead you to believe.

Part 4- Early-Game Events

Hifumi almost immediately takes a backseat in the first chapter, falling to the wayside in class discussions and only chiming in for the occasional joke. In fact, he speaks up twice in the class' breakdown of the first floor- once for a fat joke, and once for a vore joke. Neither of these are during the time where his 'investigation group' are reporting their findings.

"'But even with all that, there are 15 of us. How long can the food last?' 'Y-You can just eat sesame s-seeds or something...' 'Huh? What am I, a parakeet?'" -Hifumi Yamada & Toko Fukawa, ch 1

Later, if you choose to speak to him in the dorm hallway before going to the gym with Sayaka, he seems to be very interested in the relationship she and Makoto are developing. This noticeably makes Makoto uncomfortable, but the reason why he finds their relationship interesting is much less creepy than Makoto's unspoken assumption.

"'Mr. Naegi, Miss Maizono...! Wh-Where are the two of you off to!? A man and woman... growing closer...' 'H-Hey! What are you trying to say!?' .... 'There's really no other way to express it but to say... How very poetic!' '...'" -Hifumi Yamada & Makoto Naegi, ch 1

He sees their developing relationship as something poetic, something that has meaning to it. Speaking to him again clarifies that.

"And when he swears his love to her, there's a reason he swears that love! That's the feeling I'm getting!" -Hifumi Yamada, ch 1

This is the first time we see Hifumi's intentions and beliefs to be more pure than his peers initially believe, and this misperception quickly becomes a theme. We see this again in the investigation, where Leon immediately assumes the worst of him for volunteering for trash duty.

"'Hey fatty! Why'd you want the cleaning gig, anyway!?' 'I-I just decided to volunteer for something I knew no one else would wanna do. What's the big deal!?' 'Liar! I know why you did it...'" -Leon Kuwata & Hifumi Yamada, ch 1

And, when he insists upon his innocence, it's not taken at all seriously. Instead, Byakuya suggests a new rule- for Sakura to go with any man that takes out the trash.

"'If you're as innocent as you claim, what's the harm in it?' 'Kh-! That's not how it's supposed to-!'" -Byakuya Togami & Hifumi Yamada, ch 1

This is, on a surface level, the boys calling Hifumi's bluff and proving that he 'really is' a pervert because he's upset about being accompanied. However, that's not the only reason why Hifumi could possibly be upset at this. Sakura is visibly the strongest, and therefore most threatening, member of their class. Hifumi's greatest strength is in his ability to hold a pen without cramping for a while. When trapped in a killing game, would you be hunky dory with your classmates deciding for you that you have to be alone with the most immediate threat in a killing game, all because they assume you're a pervert?

Essentially, Hifumi's role in the early chapters is wholly that of a comic relief character. He has geeky one-liners in response to serious moments, using nerd humor in an attempt to cope with the dire circumstances they've found themselves in. There are a few different examples of this.

But, simultaneously, he's one of the more empathetic characters in the early chapters. For example, in the opening of chapter 1, he's the only character to show actual concern for Mondo's safety when he threatens not to follow the regulations, in his own way.

He's also one of the ones to reassure Chihiro after the class trial when she blames herself for Leon's death, alongside Makoto and Hina.

It's also worth noting that he offers to help Hina get Toko back to her room after she faints upon seeing Chihiro's body, regardless of his own previously stated dislike of her. Regardless of his personal feelings, he offers a helping hand, even if it's ultimately ignored.

"'You c-could've made some for the r-rest of us, you know...' 'I emphatically decline! You're not my type at all!'" -Toko Fukawa & Hifumi Yamada, ch 1 "'I don't mind taking her, but... could someone help me?' 'If you need help, I don't mind-' 'Taka, could you help me?'" -Aoi Asahina & Hifumi Yamada, ch 1

While on an overall, he doesn't do very much in the early game, we do get to see the two main points of his character start to come into focus: his nerdiness, and his empathy. We also get to see which half his peers pick up on, and which half they really, really don't.

Part 5- Relationships

Hifumi is a character whose story is defined by his relationships. Mainly which characters give him the time of day, which don't, and how that leads him to his eventual demise.

5.1- Leon Kuwata & Aoi Asahina

Due to both of them having a similar function for Hifumi, and having a small amount of crossover, I'm lumping Leon and Hina together. When it comes to Hifumi, both Leon and Hina are noticeably the two to visibly dislike Hifumi and assume the worst in him. This is a sort of demonstration of the group's general perception of him, as Leon is relatively active when it comes to the group conclusions in the first chapter, and Hina is consistently a voice of optimism in group discussion. For example, twice in the first chapter, Leon talks down to Hifumi, assuming the worst in him and calling him 'fatty' as an insult.

Hina, on the other hand, noticeably goes around Hifumi in conversation, brushing off his words more than once or straight up ignoring him, like when he tried to offer help to her dropping off Toko. Suffice to say, neither of them like him very much, though it's presented a bit differently. No one ever speaks in Hifumi's defense or agrees with him in group discussion, and seldom will you find Hifumi speaking one on one to anyone other than Celeste(when she's bossing him around, of course).

Leon dies relatively quick, so there's not any resolution on his end, but for Hina, she absolutely learns something from Hifumi's death, as Hifumi was someone she basically wrote off in life. So many people had already died, and when she was the one responsible for protecting Hifumi in the nurse's office, she failed him for her own sake. Her ignoring him is a point of guilt, and it leads her to be the only one to properly mourn him when everyone else is more focused on the mechanics of the murder itself. His death acts as a moment of growth for her, and hardens her to anyone who doesn't give the lonely a hand, the way she didn't to him.

5.2- Toko Fukawa

Hifumi doesn't like Toko. He sees her as a pretentious hypocrite, and says about as much when the two of them are in the library together.

"'They have all these books here, and not ONE copy of ANY of my works!' 'W-Well, yeah... Why would they have c-comics in a library? Plus, most 'fanfic' is j-just porn drawn by a bunch of a-amateurs...' 'You just don't get it. Not. At. All.'" -Hifumi Yamada & Toko Fukawa, ch 2

"'Comic b-books? Young adult? That stuff's a w-waste of time...' 'I've seen what you write, Miss Fukawa. Talented as you are, your stuff isn't any more 'worthwhile.'' 'My stories are filled with trues love and pure feelings! Don't compare them to that garbage of yours!'" -Toko Fukawa & Hifumi Yamada, ch 2

Toko is a novelist, while Hifumi specializes in fan comics. While they're both language artists, they write in very different ways, so it's expected that they wouldn't get along very well. That said, they do have a fair amount of chemistry, being equally petty and willing to criticize each others' works without hesitation. Interestingly, Toko seems to feed off of this banter, and is visibly disappointed when Hifumi later says he has no interest in her.

Despite having a verbal slapfight, their conversation in the library is unironically the closest either of these characters get to forming an actual friendship with anyone in the THH cast in-game.

5.3- Celestia Ludenberg (CW: SA Mention)

Celeste approaches Hifumi with one goal: to gain a servant. When trapped in a killing game and desperate to escape, one will use whatever resources available, and Hifumi immediately struck her as an easy target. This wasn't unfounded, as he almost immediately agreed to making her milk tea, allowing his own attraction to her to persuade him.

"'Hifumi, would you make me some tea?' '...Huh?' 'Milk tea, if you please.' 'Wh...why me?' 'Your roundish figure reminds me of the owner of the coffee shop I used to frequent.' That's your reason...?" -Celestia Ludenberg, Hifumi Yamada, & Makoto Naegi, ch 2

Her approaching him is framed as both confusing and frivolous. Hifumi can't believe it, and neither can Makoto, our POV character. But regardless, Hifumi immediately falls in line, doing what Celeste asks to the best of his ability, specifically because he's attracted to her.

"Hmhm... It's all about the law of causality, basic instinct, act and react!" -Hifumi Yamada, ch 2

He does what Celeste asks because he's attracted to her, and thinks hse will, in turn, fuck him. She won't, but he doesn't need to know that. Other adaptations expand on his attraction to her, with the stageplay having him say that her Gothic lolita style akins her to horror characters in his mind, and that he wants to draw her.

Later, when Celeste plans her murder plot, Hifumi is the one she goes to, knowing he's more likely to bend to what she asks. But even though he's attracted to her, he's still at his core a decent guy. And she's not the girl at the forefront of his mind anymore, so she has to get more creative. So, in order to convince him that killing all their classmates is worth it, she comes up with a new web of lies, using both his connection with a certain AI and his own chivalry against him.

"'[Taka] came to my room last night unannounced, and then... It's hard for me to even say... He... abused me...' 'What!?' 'And he... he took pictures. He said if I did not do as he asked, he would show them to everyone... So I... I had no choice...' 'Th-that's a crime! An absolute crime!'" -Celestia Ludenberg & Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

Hifumi takes this seriously, believing what Celeste says for two reasons: because she has photographic evidence of Alter Ego in Taka's room, and because he has no reason not to trust her. She's one of the few members of the class who's spoken to him unprompted. On top of that, sexual assault is an incredibly serious accusation, and Hifumi treats it as such*.

"I'm about to say something I've never said before in my life... I'm going to kill him! I'm going to f...f...f-fucking kill him!" -Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

(*It's also worth noting that Hifumi believing Celeste doesn't make him 'stupid'. That's a sentiment I've seen very often thrown around when talking about this chapter, with the main point being 'how could he believe that the Ultimate Moral Compass would rape someone?' But not only is that sentiment at the mercy of a mistranslated SHSL title, it also implies that Celeste should've had more proof for her rape to be believable. You should always take victims seriously, and Hifumi knew that. The point of Celeste's lie isn't that Hifumi is dumb; the point is that Celeste is scum for lying about something so serious. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.)

Hifumi becomes a victim of Celeste's schemes because his empathy, which went unnoticed by everyone else, was weaponized against him. In this sense, both he and Taka fall to the lack of understanding their peers had for them, all to Celeste's whims, as Celeste was very involved with and friendly with the class but lied constantly. Hifumi wasn't the pervert people assumed him to be, and his chivalry became his downfall.

5.4- Chihiro Fujisaki & Alter Ego

While Hifumi's relationship with Chihiro was minor, it was still there, if only in the background. They bounce off of each other's thinking in the first trial, Hifumi comforts Chihiro after the first trial, and they stand together when summoned to the gym by Monokuma. It's subtle, but there, and Chihiro isn't uncomfortable with him, either. It's important enough of a detail that it carries over to adaptations, too.

He also refuses to touch Chihiro's dead body, not wanting to violate her after death. This is again another instance of Hifumi's base morals and empathy, but could hypothetically speak to a friendship as well. He mourns her death and thought highly of her.

It's also worth noting that both Chihiro and Hifumi are the two characters in this game to show some hints of remembering their history, or at least having the feeling that something isn't quite right.

"Hey, it could just be my imagination, but... have we met before?" -Chihiro Fujisaki, prologue

"...Huh? Ahh... that's right... I remember now... Hope's Peak... .... I remember... everything... Before... I'd met you... all... I'd met... you all..." -Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

This associates the two characters together, though not to a major degree. So when Alter Ego is found, this connection combined with Hifumi's love of 2D makes it completely unsurprising that he's immediately interested in them.

"'Somehow I feel kinda... sorry for her...' ..... 'It is a simple computer program. It does not *have* feelings.' 'Are you sure about that...?'" -Hifumi Yamada & Celestia Ludenberg, ch 3

This very quickly devolves into him being sexually attracted to Alter Ego. Of that there's no question. He routinely breaks class rules specifically to interact with them on multiple occasions.

"He snuck into the dressing room in the middle of the night and accessed Alter Ego without permission. And when I caught him last night... he was hugging the laptop and breathing strangely." -Kyoko Kirigiri, ch 3

"'And that guy was seriously head over heels for a mannequin. He had a wedding and everything! And your eyes just now... I saw the same look in HIS eyes!' 'Shut up! She's not a mannequin! She's an ANGEL! .... What we have can't be described by your petty 'words'!'" -Yasuhiro Hagakure & Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

He all but admits to it, too, enjoying when they say 'Master' and the drooling sprite appearing when talking to or about them a significant amount. But despite that, he insists it's beyond just sexual attraction, and feels genuine affection for them as a person as well. Because of that, he's the first in their class to verbalize that he sees Alter Ego not as a program, but a person, a sentiment that's later shared by the rest of the class(save Celeste).

Hifumi doesn't judge Alter Ego as a program first. He loves 2D and fiction, so he's immediately more open to accepting Alter Ego right off the bat. And it's that openness that allows him to be the first one to acknowledge that despite their existence being a "2D" one, that they're still alive and matter.

5.5- Kiyondo Ishida

Hifumi never really knew Taka. They'd met, obviously, but the two of them weren't friends, or even acquaintances. When it comes to the story of THH, their paths intersect for the first time after Taka is reborn as Kiyondo, and it's not under friendly terms. Both Hifumi and Kiyondo have developed a codependency on Alter Ego, and find themselves pitted against each other because of it.

There's also a distinct difference in the way the two of them treat and view Alter Ego that sets them apart. Whereas Hifumi sees Alter Ego as their own conscious entity, one that admittedly caters to his preferences, Kiyondo's attachment to Alter Ego is to see them as the tool that reincarnated Mondo and rejoined the two of them, and is therefore Mondo's lifeline. The reason they view Alter Ego differently is because they represent the same thing for both men- the one person who connects with them.

Taka was perpetually lonely and had no friends until Mondo, while Hifumi never wanted anything more than for his favorite characters to love him the way he loved them. Alter Ego unintentionally fills that void for both of them, so they both develop a possessive codependency to them and are forced to be at odds with each other because of it, and leads both of them to their deaths.

Part 6- Hifumi Yamada: Comic Book Hero

"If murder is evidence of abnormality, then all of history's greatest heroes must have been abnormal." -Monokuma theater, ch 3

Like the characters he admired in his favorite works of fiction, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and the Omega, Hifumi determined the start and end of chapter 3. Chapter 3's plot and how it unfolds is a bit ridiculous, which is fitting for putting a comic relief character like Hifumi in the hotseat. It's in this chapter that we learn more about Hifumi's interests directly, and that sets the tone for the more comical and outlandish plot we get in chapter 3.

Celeste's murder plan relies heavily on Hifumi's antics, with her entrusting him to make the costume and act the fool in her play, before killing him with his own weapon of choice. In this sense, he acts as a hidden vigilante, defending her honor and saving the princess (Alter Ego) using the Robo Justice mask.

Hifumi's supposed role makes much more sense when you take it as a comic book storyline. He, the hero, is brought to the edge of death by a villain that claims itself to be justice, only to just hold on against all odds (as heroes do) and escape the clutches of evil, murdering rapists and bringing the masked villains to justice. These kinds of stories are what Hifumi eats up, but he fails to see the true role he falls into- the poor manipulated fool, henchman to the vile villainness that tosses him aside when he's no longer useful.

Part 7- Hifumi's Memory

"If I've got one thing going for me, it's my memory!" -Hifumi Yamada, ch 1

Hifumi having a good head on his shoulders is immediately plot relevant. His memory is impeccable, and this makes a lot of sense for someone revered for their place in fandom. Being able to remember the source material you're making art of can be really useful.

But in his final moments, Hifumi's strong memory comes back to him, Celeste's attack both killling him and dislodging the memories Junko had buried. This serves as both a clue to the immediate trial for his and Taka's murder, and becomes a clue towards the truth of the entire killing game.

"Who... killed me...? That's right... I remember... their name... Y...Yasu...hi...ro...." -Hifumi Yamada, ch 3

While this reveals Celeste's real name, it doesn't explain how Hifumi would've known that, and it's a question that's never directly answered until the final trial- they were friends for 2 years, and had learned her real name in that timeframe beforehand. This, alongside the first photo of the class' past and Kyoko questioning her body having changed, is where the setup for the class' missing their school lives really takes off. It's a nice detail to include for Hifumi, and has its impact on the player when you realize that Celeste, who seemed to hate Hifumi, had once willingly shared such sensitive information with him, a trust that became his final words, and it calls into question just how different everyone's relationships were with each other before the game began.

Part 8- Fatphobia In Danganronpa (& Creator's Bias)

By now, I'm certain a fair chunk of people have rolled their eyes, refreshed the page, moved on with their lives, etc. because of this post's insistence that Hifumi isn't perverted. And that's mainly because of the content of his FTEs, in which he tells us in no uncertain terms how much he wants to embarrass and mature the teen girl character he loves most. And yes, that is pretty sexual of him, and he makes a few different out-of-place sex jokes throughout his time in the game, most of which were glossed over. Well, my main reason for doing this is that I think these moments and assertions exist not in tandem with Hifumi's character and story, but in contradiction of them.

I'll elaborate. Hifumi is a fictional character. As such, when written, the character choices and dialogue are subject to authorial intent. This is base information when analyzing a character that every fictional character in all of media history is subject to. But the question with Hifumi is, how much of Hifumi's intended arc and story is negatively affected by the creator's own biases? When it comes to Hifumi, my conclusion is, a fair bit.

Hifumi's intended impact is shared with most of the cast- the subversion of expectations. Sayaka wasn't the deuteragonist. Chihiro wasn't a (cis) girl. Junko wasn't dead. Et cetera. In the case of Hifumi, this subversion is undoubtedly, and without question, that he is not a pervert. He's set up to be assumed as a pervert, only for the rug to be pulled out when Celeste reveals that he agreed to help her because he believed he was saving a sexual assault victim. He's beyond disgusted by the mere notion; he respects her, and becomes a mourned victim because of it. There's no reason for the game to call attention to this in the post-trial if this wasn't the point. So why, then, do they include all these sexual jokes, all directed at the female cast members and told exclusively by Hifumi? Why is he the one to immediately agree to spy on the girls in the bathhouse without hesitation, and mourns it if you don't unlock the cutscene? Is it all part of the 'gotcha'? Was it even necessary for the 'gotcha'? Well, no, to both questions. Hifumi has this subversion, yes, but he's also comic relief, and these moments and jokes are given to him as a result, despite the immediate and obvious contradiction.

But why? Surely these jokes could've gone to another character, or even been spread across the cast. It didn't have to be Hifumi, but the author made it so that it was, and when looking seriously at what his character was meant to accomplish, you also have to look at it critically and acknowledge why. There's one very real and apparent reason that Hifumi would be the one given these moments above everyone else, and it's the same reason the game makes multiple passes at his figure, assigns him a comic role over others in the first place, and ultimately gets lumped in with the actual perverts of Danganronpa when people criticize the fanservice and horny pervert characters of the series. He's fat, plain and simple.

Fatphobia is unfortunately evident within Hifumi's character, and most of the rest of the series as well. For one thing, in a cast of nearly 100 characters, only three are fat, and of those three, he's the only one to make it past the first chapter. Similarly to the dark-skinned characters in this series, body diversity is not a priority in Danganronpa. On top of that, all 3 of these plus-sized characters are somewhat associated with food. It's more obvious with the other two, as the Ultimate Imposter has several gags and lines about how much food he eats and how important calories are to him, and Teruteru is the Ultimate Cook, but Hifumi's official art also has him pictured with greasy snacks like potato chips while working, and in his FTEs he tells you about his Diet Coke addiction. Individually, there's nothing wrong with any of these; they make sense for the characters, but when it's all of your plus-sized characters, and you barely have any, that's a pattern.

In the case of Hifumi, though, the much more noticeable aspect of fatphobia present is his hornier brand. Other characters are noticeably uncomfortable around him at multiple instances, but by the end of the first chapter, his being a pervert is accepted fact, and people stop reacting to it.

The above sprite in particular is used very often when Hifumi is speaking, and there are several instances in which the way the player may interpret his dialogue is directly affected by the use of this particular sprite. He's visibly sweaty and drooling as he talks, and it's often paired with the Junk Food track to emphasize that what he's saying is ridiculous. An example that immediately comes to mind is if you speak to him with Sayaka before going to the gym. The Junk Food 10 track cuts in when you click on him, and immediately ends and goes back to the previous track once you're done speaking to him. The game also makes a few passes at his weight, to the point where him being too heavy to lift unironically becomes a truth bullet in the chapter 3 investigation and trial. It's technically a good point to make, since he did fly up 2 flights of stairs in the span of a few minutes, but the way in which they emphasize his weight when collecting the bullet is... rude, to say the least.

"Hifumi's big, cold body is laying on the floor... His... *really* big body. I mean, how on Earth was the killer able to move someone so big?" -Makoto Naegi, ch 3

As I stated previously, despite Hifumi having a minor arc and purpose, he is very much a comic relief character. The presentation of his character is very much a reflection of this. And there's nothing wrong with having comic relief characters. By himself, Hifumi's not being a pervert being paired with an immature sense of humor isn't the worst thing in the world, and for the most part, the contradiction here could be meta-explained as him being overexposed to Internet humor and having his foot in his mouth on occasion as a result. But that doesn't change the fact that doing it with who, at the time of his creation, is your only fat character isn't a great choice to make, and is worth calling out and criticizing for that very reason. Admittedly, this is lessened a good bit when you remember that Toko, a much thinner character, is way worse about being perverted, and plenty of way more perverted characters that are both thinner and less sympathetic as characters are introduced later. (If anything, Hifumi being negatively affected by fatphobia is worse in the fandom than it is in the actual source material, but the source did set it up for that to happen, so again, it's still worth calling out in a full character analysis.)

Part 9- Value of a Geek (Why We Care)

So now we know who Hifumi is. The perceived Hifumi, the empathetic Hifumi, and the contradictory Hifumi. So many Hifumis, and only one character. Can we condense this into a solid conclusion?

Hifumi is an otaku. Hifumi is a creator. Hifumi is horny. Hifumi beats rapists over the head with a giant fucking hammer. Hifumi Yamada is many things, a contradiction of a character. He can't keep his inside thoughts inside, but that extends to his art, too. He's a teenage boy who built a career off his pent-up frustration, and who hasn't lost sight of where the line is. He's a man of passion, in more ways than one, and he's a kinder and more chivalrous man than he's given credit for.

Hifumi Yamada may just be the character from THH you're most likely to come across in the real world. He's not some hyper-competent secret genius who made the conscious choice to dedicate his life to something. He was just a bit of a geek that really liked his favorite show, and built a community from it. He fell into his passion, and that's something I think any creator of any kind can relate to. Hifumi never cared what people thought of him, not really. He just strived to do what made him happy. Maybe we should all be more like Hifumi. Enjoy the things you love, and share that. There is a community out there that will love it; you just have to find them.

Afterword

Final analysis of the year!!! Happy birthday, Hifumi!!!! 🥳

It's technically already 2025 and January 1st. However, it's still December 31st somewhere, so I'm considering this a victory lol. Damn, 6 analyses in a little over 6 months. That's like, 1 analysis a month. Pretty crazy

I worry this may be a tad rushed, but I've looked it over and I'm confident it holds up, even if I probably could've gone into more detail in some places or another.

Anywho, expect a larger gap between this analysis and the next, because next in line is Toko Fukawa, which means we have to go beyond THH once more. Catch ya later!

(Future Crane: Edits are due to formatting cleanup and one misattributed quote at the end of part 4. None of the information otherwise has been changed)

#yamada hifumi #hifumi yamada #trigger happy havoc #thh #dr1 #thh spoilers #chihiro fujisaki #celestia ludenberg #alter ego #kiyotaka ishimaru #danganronpa #meta analysis #dr character analysis #character analysis #character study #media analysis #cw sa mention

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