#sunday phoenix specifically

[rollforarcana]

🐦‍🔥 Wildfire 🐦‍🔥

This is Phoenix Aster! He just learned he's not human in the last DND session I played him in. Turns out he's a Fire Genasi, which is homebrewed as more of a Fire Spirit than canon 5e lore, so he can interact with the Ethereal Plane.

[rendevok]

Skirting the truth

(aka i saw this meme and laughed so hard i lost my sense self control)

[periwinkla]

Day 4 - Guilt/Healing ♡ ...and 4th panel of the poster! I chose to go with the JP writing for Miles' note since we don't know what it looks like in ENG. Previous days:

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part One) (18+) | SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 5.7K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Phoenix had been the one to give you the final push, and right now you’re glad she did. You’d hemmed and hawed over the booking details for weeks, but when the cruise was only three weeks away, she’d insisted you finalize the paperwork and clinch one of the last available rooms.

“Come on,” She’d given you a knowing look, thin brows raised and lips curled into a smirk, “You need this.”

You do need this. Walking onto the cruise ship feels liberating, like you’re free from the shackles of the U.S Military and living a normal life. You’d been pleasantly surprised to have been granted leave by your commanding officer for the entire week, because Spring Break was a term typically foreign to the Navy. But your squadron's leave fell so perfectly in between late March and early April, so you’ll take the time off and enjoy it.

You’re really going to enjoy it. The cruise you needed oh-so-badly isn’t just an average, run-of-the-mill ship, it’s a program specifically targeted towards those wanting easy hookups. 

A sex cruise.

You’d almost been scared away by the no refunds, no rearrangements notice on the cruise’s website, letting you know that you wouldn’t be offered the courtesy of a swap if your random roommate didn’t work out. After all, the point is to get over your reservations, and have a good time. But, you think, it’s only a week, and none of the people you’re seeing around the ship so far look like anyone you’d refuse to have sex with. Do you feel ashamed for signing up for a sex cruise? Slightly. But you can feel slightly ashamed after getting your back blown out by whoever you’re lucky enough to room with. Right now you just need sex, something hot and heavy and rushed, the fervent slapping of skin-on-skin to release the stress pent up inside of you for months now.

Work is tough. You’re no longer the starry-eyed aviator that you’d been at the beginning of your career. You’re older now, you’re starting to exit the honeymoon phase of your job, and to top it off, you haven’t been able to score in months. 

You used to have no problem picking up a date here and there around the Hard Deck, but all of a sudden, it’s like Penny had shut off the tap of men pouring out into your lap. You can’t fathom why the entirety of San Diego suddenly decided hookup culture wasn’t for them, but you haven't been able to get laid in months, so you need this cruise. You’re partially terrified that word might get around to your squadron about your vacation, and that the slight shame you're feeling might multiply into something you'll never be able to face. Heaven forbid they change your callsign to Cruiser, or Hookup, or some other derogatory indicator that you're about to have the week of your life.

Hangman already teases you for not being able to take anyone home anymore, you can’t imagine what he’d do if he found out you got on a sex boat. You’ve always been able to bicker and banter with Hangman, dishing out as much as you take, but if he gets wind of what you’re doing this week, you might lose your never-ending stream of competitive banter once and for all.

You shove Hangman out of your thoughts; this is to get away from all of that. He’s a pest, the way he lays out teasing remarks with that saccharine grin on his face, like he’s the cheshire cat and he’s told you a particularly hard-to-decipher riddle. He’s a cheap rival at best, always poking and prodding about being number one, and how you’ll have to hike up your big girl panties if you want to be on his level, despite your record being neck-and-neck with his own. He’s never given you something you can’t return in full-force, but it takes effort to fire back the way that you do, and you’re eager to let your guard down this week and relieve your pent-up frustration.

You pass through the archway they’ve opened to the dock, big double doors angled inside over short, stubbly carpeting. It looks like what you’d find in an 80’s bowling alley, all clashing colors and wacky patterns. The railings to the stairs just in front of you are gold, and they spiral downwards elegantly over the 3 floors below you. They extend upwards 11 more, which is a scary thing to think about; being 15 decks high in the middle of the ocean. The carrier ships you’re used to aren’t small by any means, but their decks are mainly tucked away beneath the surface and shut in so that, if you ignore the rolling waves that toss you side to side, you can pretend you’re on land. Several mostly open upper decks are new to you, but if you’re lucky, you’ll stay centralized to your cabin, tucked away neatly on deck eight, getting your world rocked.

You’ve packed light, a single suitcase rolling behind you as your purse tucks over the handle. It’s an easy way to travel, and you thank basic training for the way that your muscles easily support your luggage as you drag it up a flight of the spiral stairs.

There’s noise everywhere, lights everywhere, people everywhere; it’s complete chaos. But it’s thrumming with excitement, with the promise of sex, and lust, and getting laid, and you fight to stop a grin from growing on your cheeks as you approach the registration desk.

There’s a man in front of you that’s arguing with the receptionist, something about incorrectly filed paperwork, which you don’t exactly blame the guy for. There had been about 35 forms to fill out, STD Test Results here and Consent Questionnaires there. You understand why they’re necessary on a sex cruise, and you’re glad they’re keeping their passengers safe, but they were a pain to fill out. 

The receptionist sees you file in line behind the man, looking all too grateful for the distraction.

“If you could just step to the side here,” He gestures, waving the man to the left of his place at the counter, “I’ll call someone down to help you with that, sir.”

The man looks displeased to be put on hold, but you take the opportunity when it comes to you, handing over your printed email confirmation that’s got your room number inked in bold black lettering.

“Ah, 838,” The man smiles, “Your roommate’s already gotten his key. Maybe you’ll meet him down there. But if not, you’re welcome to explore the ship. Here’s a map, we have plenty to do if you’re not quite ready to get started.”

The man hands you both a stiff key card, printed with your name and general information, and a map of the ship. It really is huge, and you marvel at how much there is to do besides sex. Maybe if your roommate doesn’t work out, you can hang out in the piano lounge.

The instrument makes you think of Rooster and his attention-grabbing routine at the Hard Deck, whenever he’s in the mood to go home with someone that night. Ladies love a piano player, and if this cruise doesn’t work out, maybe you’ll pick up the instrument yourself. If it were any other voyage, you’d probably be wishing your fellow aviator was on board to serenade the ship, but you’ll count your blessings that he’s not here to see your desperation.

You decide on the elevator rather than the stairs for the sake of your luggage, not wanting the suitcase to get battered hitting each step on the way up. There’s a crowd formed at the doors to the lifts already, humming with conversation and dripping with sex appeal. Two of the three men there are already shirtless and in swim trunks, and you hope you look half as stunning in the bathing suits you’d chosen to bring with you. One of them catches your eye as you sidle into the elevator and the quick wink he sends you lightens your mood. Even if your roommate doesn’t work out, maybe you can branch out and get Elevator Guy's number.

The ride up is cut off by someone on the sixth floor who manages to squeeze into your elevator. Then someone steps out on the seventh, and finally, you make your departure on the eighth. You mourn the loss of Elevator Guy, but you’re excited to meet your roommate, whoever he is. 

There’s not a long walk from the elevator to your room, but it’s a bit of a maze figuring out which hallway to take. You’re the third door down the corridor furthest left, and you slide your key card into the door with excitement brewing in your stomach.

Will he be handsome? Will he be drop-dead gorgeous? Will he have a six pack? Will he have a dad-bod? Will he have a beard? Will he be a brunette? Will he… be invisible?

He’s most likely not invisible, which means he’s just not in the room. The door swings open to a lovely space, portholes showcasing the dock and a single, queen-sized bed against that wall. There’s a suitcase stacked against one side of the bed, but no passenger to accompany it, and the bathroom light is off, too.

There’s a hat resting on one of the pillows, a blue-and-white patterned thing you recognize as rooting for the Dallas Cowboys. It’s the team Jake won’t shut the fuck up about when the game is on, so you’re well accustomed to seeing the color combo. Jake always accentuates his southern drawl when he talks about the Cowboys, just to remind everyone that he’s a certified Texan, as if anyone might have forgotten in the time it’s been since the last game. You hope that whoever your roommate is isn’t just a fan, but a southerner as well, because Jake’s twang would be ridiculously attractive if it wasn’t coming out of his arrogant mouth. But the hat has no owner in sight, so you can’t analyze their accent, and for that you heave a sigh.

He’s not here.

You’re a little let down - does he not want to meet you? - but you suppose that gives you time to go find the buffet, as well as explore the ship. You’d elected to skip lunch on the way to the port and eat on the ship instead, hoping for a debrief with your roommate before you hit it off tonight. But eating alone isn’t the worst thing in the world, and you can muscle through one meal. You take a moment to admire the room, a bright, clean space that you’re going to love messing up. The sheets are crisp and white, but there’s an imprint of your roommate on one side, like he’d stretched out for a while before heading back out. The dip in the bed looks large, and blossoms of excitement bloom in your stomach: he’s beefy.

You deposit your suitcase in the closet, filling out the hangers with your outfits and setting your lingerie on the shelf. You want easy access; you’re probably not going to look very sexy rooting around in your suitcase on all fours for a bra.

You refrain from changing, already in a weather-appropriate sundress that’s a pretty mix of pink and baby blue. You do a quick check in the mirror: no flyaway hairs, dress laying right on your hips, gloss properly lining your lips. You make sure you don’t need to reapply deodorant, perfume, or any other nice-smelling substance, and then you’re off in search of the buffet, eager to see the soft serve machine they’d advertised on their website.

The ship really is crowded, and you appreciate the unique atmosphere that comes from everyone knowing they’re only there for sex. You’re there to fuck and be fucked, and it means you can ogle the man that emerges soaking wet from the pool, slicking his dripping hair out of his face as he prepares to dive again. A woman eating with who you assume is her roommate gives the hem of your sundress a once-over, catching on your thighs beneath the fabric, and glancing back up to your face to level you with a momentary smirk. Confidence flows through your veins as you make your way out towards the wood-lined deck of the ship, looking out over the bright ocean illuminated by sunlight. 

A gust of wind blows the hem of your sundress to the left, but not enough to raise it, so you don’t bother catching it. The sea is beautiful, and you’re thrilled to have a relaxing time on one; you don’t normally get those on giant carrier ships.

There’s no runway here, no reserve of jet fuel, there’s just sun, fun, and lust.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in, uh, room 624, would you?” A voice pipes up from your right, and you turn to see a slightly younger man, clearly sun-drying from a dip in the pool. His hair hangs past his ears but he runs a hand through it backwards, and it means you get a better view of his face, adorned with an impressive scruffy beard, the same brown shade as his hair. However, there’s a ring of slightly lighter hair around his mouth that you hope is from what you think it’s from. His face is more squarish than long, skin a tone darker than the impressive tan Rooster sports after a day at the beach.

“Ah, no.” You laugh lightly, and the overexaggerated slump of his shoulders hints that he was expecting your answer. You take pride in the fact that he’d wanted to ask anyways, and you flash your key card at him, “838.”

“You mind if I remember that?” He leans against the railing of the deck, and once more you appreciate the open, bold atmosphere of the crowd you’re in, “If my roommate doesn’t mind not being exclusive.”

“I don’t mind at all,” You smile, feeling a slight flush come to your cheeks. This is going to do you a world of good. If your roommate has even half of this guy’s good qualities, his charming smile, his toned arms, his slight southern drawl, you’ll be more than happy to share your week with him.

“Daniel,” He sticks a hand out, fingers thick and rough-looking. You wonder what he does for work; something laborious by the look of his hands. 

“Y/N,” You smile back, turning to shake his hand. He takes you by surprise by raising your knuckles to his lips, and you remind yourself once again that this cruise is geared towards romance. Or, at least lust, but you’re flattered he’s throwing in the extra component. 

You try tamping down your obvious grin as you turn back to the ocean, “You haven’t met your roommate?”

“Nope,” He grabs a shirt from a nearby lounge chair, patterned with a faded band logo that you can’t place, what must be a waterproof watch gleaming in the sunlight that hits his wrist. “I was hoping to get lunch with’er. Hey, have you eaten yet?”

“Actually, I haven’t.” You straighten from where you’re leaning against the railings, “I was waiting for my roommate too.”

“Well,” Daniel holds out an arm, toned and muscular, and you hook yours through it, “Fuck ‘em.”

You laugh at his bold choice of words, still having to remind yourself that you’re in a strictly adult environment. You don’t need to worry about your sailor’s mouth, there’s no kids to overhear, nor parents to get upset.

Daniel’s arm is strong where he leads you to the dining area, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t fixating on the feeling of your bicep locked to his side by his own. The buffet is a little classier than you’d expected; instead of all-you-can-eat french fry stations there’s trays of pastas, stews, and meat for the taking, thin silver utensils laid out neatly over each container.

You keep it light with only foods you know won’t upset your stomach with the rocking of the boat. That’s the last thing you need, and you manage to find an open table while Daniel waits in line for pizza. You’ve barely had a chance to spread your napkin over your lap, your sundress putting forth a valiant effort to cover your upper thighs, when Daniel sits across from you and smiles through his beard.

“So, where are you from?” He questions, biting off the end of his pizza slice so that you have a chance to reply. 

“I live here,” You attempt to pick up one half of your sandwich, lettuce and tomato making it slick and difficult, “I’m actually, uh- stationed here. With the navy.”

His eyes bulge for a second, and he swallows while nodding, “Wow. Okay, that’s cool. I’m guessing that’s why your arms are practically bigger than mine?”

You try not to spit out your sandwich laughing along with him, grateful for the flimsy paper napkin you’d snagged to hide a smear of tomato juice along your lip. 

“You should see one of the other guys from my squadron,” You think of Jake- Jake who’d famously torn through a t-shirt (albeit, a flimsy one) by just flexing the muscles in his biceps, “I swear his arms are bigger than my neck.”

I’m sure you guys need ‘em,” Daniel muses, sipping at his drink. He’s listening to you with rapt interest, something men don’t usually do when they find out that your job is something traditionally masculine. He’s not boasting about his own job, he’s not rattling off gym stats: “So you’re a sailor?”

“Aviator,” You correct him, used to the misconception, “I fly.”

“I don’t think I knew the Navy had planes,” Daniel admits, crunching a potato chip between his slightly crooked teeth, “I thought that was just the Air Force.”

“Everyone thinks it’s just the Air Force,” You grin, stacking two pickles on the end of your fork that had somehow escaped your sandwich.

“Sorry,” Daniel looks bashful now, his smile sheepish, “I bet you’re tired of correcting people.”

“No! Don’t worry about it,” You’re absolutely tired of correcting people, but you’re not about to tell that to a man who’s mustache has lighter ends than the scruff of his beard against his jaw, “What about you, what do you do?”

“I just work at a post office, I sort mail.” He divulges, and you’re instantly more fond of him; a civil service worker who wears tight little shorts? You’re not quite sure if Daniel has a downside.

“Are you local?”

“I’m in Oceanside. Not too far,” He muses, “I only drove an hour here.”

So, he’s good in bed, he’s good in uniform, and you could easily make weekend visits. You’re starting to lament the fact that you’ll be sleeping with someone else for the week.

“Are you sure you’re not in room 838?” You tease, “Maybe they misprinted your card, or something.”

“Believe me, if I could get it reprinted, I would,” He confesses, setting his fork down to brace his elbows on the table. He leans forwards, his chin propped against his clasped hands, “I know they’re all strict about not changing roommates, but listen, if yours doesn’t work out, I’ll propose an arrangement to mine. And- uh, even if yours does work out,” He stifles a smirk, stuffing a chip into his mouth instead, “-ask him if he wouldn’t mind swapping for a bit.”

You both admire and appreciate his desperation. You’re used to aloof sailors, or men in bars who wish you had less muscle and more tit. Something about the way he’s leading the conversation, not forcing himself on you but begging for a chance, makes your stomach flutter.

“We’ll work something out,” You promise, nudging your foot against his beneath the table, “Coming straight out and asking is working on me, if I’m being honest.”

Daniel laughs, so you elaborate: “So many of the guys I meet try pretending like they don’t care. Or- or maybe they don’t, I guess, but it’s still frustrating. It’s nice that you care.”

“Of course I care,” Daniel blinks incredulously at you, cheeks stuffed as he struggles to swallow before speaking, “You could choke me out with your thighs, babe. I’m not stupid enough to lose that opportunity.”

Your cheeks burn. Evidently you’re still acclimating to the brazen atmosphere of the ship, and you struggle to hide your sheepish smirk as he kicks his foot against yours beneath the table, the same as you’d done to him.

Daniel’s only gaining more popularity in your mind when he takes your plate to the trash, scraping away the remnants of the lettuce and condiments from your sandwich and stacking his own on top of it where they’re about to be washed. He sends you a dazzling smile as he gestures for the doorway, and you’re honestly surprised that he doesn’t say ‘after you’ when he lets you go first.

“Eighth floor?” Daniel verifies when you step through the doors of the elevator, and it’s much less packed than when you’d been there before. You nod, and he presses only 8, not 6 for his own room. You’re almost nervous that he might try to come into your room with you, because you’re not sure whether your roommate is there, and you don’t know how kindly he’ll take to you bringing another man in without meeting him first. But you swallow your nerves as the doors slide shut, leaving you in the elevator with him alone.

You can feel him staring at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. He smiles back, and you lock eyes for a tense moment, then all of a sudden you’re both lunging forwards, frenzied as something in the air tells you to jump each other. Your hands sling around his neck as his lips press to your own, the scruff of his beard grating against your skin. It stings slightly, but it’s delicious as his lips fit between your own, and your back presses to the cold metal wall of the elevator. You suppose you should be a little ashamed, letting your tongue ghost over his bottom lip, making out with a man you've just met in an elevator, but it appears everyone is either boarding or eating, and no one bothers you on your journey up.

To add yet another thing to Daneil’s list of perfect traits: he’s an excellent kisser. He lets you lead, and when he feels your tongue prod at his lips he groans, gladly licking over your top lip. You open your mouth, seized by the moment, and he ventures inside without hesitation, his tongue hot and wet as it laps over your own.

You’d moan if you could, spout some breathy expletive or test out his name on your drool-coated tongue. But you can’t, he’s a presence, an enigma, and you let him occupy your mouth so much that words won’t.

You’d been on the fourth deck when the doors had shut, and it’s not a long trip to the eighth. When the elevator jolts to a stop you reluctantly push Daniel away, not wanting to expose yourself to the hall of deck eight.

“Uh,” You breathe, wiping at a smear of drool on the side of your mouth, “Fuck, that was-”

“Yeah.” He agrees, similarly breathless as he runs a hand through his hair that you’d tousled slightly, “I’d love to do that again sometime.”

“Me too.” You laugh bashfully, “Uh, maybe not in an elevator, though.”

“Like- like in a bed.” He concludes as the doors slide open, revealing a safely empty hallway. “Or- or just a room, or something, like a- a couch, if you don’t want- not a bed.”

“A bed,” You assure him, endeared by his caution, “I’d love to do it again sometime in a bed, Daniel.”

“Alright,” He grins, reaching out to catch the doors before they can close on you as you depart, “838’s right there. I’d walk you, but,” He points at a door only two down from the one directly in front of you, and you wave him off with a grateful grin.

“No worries.” You laugh, “Thanks, Daniel. Uh- I hope I see you again.”

“Me too,” He smiles, and it might be the most charming sight you’ve ever seen, “Goodbye, Y/N.”

The doors slide shut on him, and you feel like the next appropriate step for you is to go into your room, close the door, and slide down the backside of it. You can’t fathom reacting any differently to the mind-blowing, butterfly-inducing kiss you’d just engaged in, especially with the excitement of doing it in an elevator. The desperation you’d felt and received back was exhilarating, and you’d be happy to get off the boat now and savor the feeling. 

Coincidentally, the ship’s horn sounds, and an announcement comes over the loudspeakers, “Passengers, brace yourselves for some slight rocking,” You hold onto the wall, just in case, “Because we are on our way! We’ve just set sail, and for a day and a half, you’ll be at sea. Then we’ll dock on beautiful white sand beaches by Wednesday morning. I hope you enjoy yourselves, and I wish I was one of you, because I do not get a roommate. Unless- Rick, you feel like- no, no, okay! Okay,” The captain laughs, “My co-captain isn’t interested. Well, folks, enjoy yourselves, and please don’t make messes in the pools.”

You’re feeling generous, a bounce in your step from being kissed stupid in the elevator, so you let out a light chuckle at the captain’s humor. Any other time, you might have found it corny, but you’ve just been made out with, and everything seems better than it would have before. You hear muffled cheers from the rest of the ship, and dig into the pocket of your sundress for your key card. You retrieve the smooth plastic, slot it into the door labeled 838, and take a deep breath.

If he’s anything like Daniel, you’ll have a great time. And if he isn’t, you’ll see Daniel again.

With that, you push down the silver handle, hearing the door click with the motion, and you step inside.

The first thing you see is a pair of socked feet sticking off the end of the bed. The bed is perpendicular to the doorway, and the upper half of it is hidden by the bathroom. You clock the pair of toned, tan, mouth-watering legs that rest on the mattress, a sight you already want to sink your teeth into. You’re shocked that you’re bold enough to think that you wish he didn’t have briefs on, especially considering the sizable bulge in their fabric. You take a step closer, and a similarly toned torso comes into view, impossibly muscled and something that belongs in an art museum. There’s a pair of thick, bulky biceps raised above the man’s head, and when he turns his head to look at you-

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

You freeze in your spot. One foot planted in front of the other, your weight distributed between them equally. Your eyes go wide, your stomach twists awkwardly, and you damn near drop your keycard.

“Hangman.”

Your fellow aviator's face is equally as shocked, but it curves into a familiar cocky grin all too soon, “What do we have here? Y/L/N?”

“No fucking way. Jake?”

“Y/N,” He matches your pattern with a hearty chuckle, “Oh, this is too good.”

“You’re in the wrong room.” You decide, “This is 838.”

“That’s what it said on my key card, darlin’.” Jake snatches the card from the sleeve stuck to the back of his phone, flashing it at you where you can see the clear print of the numbers, “Guess we’re fated or somethin’.”

“Shut up.” You snap, knees easily bending as you fall back against the loveseat opposite the bathroom, “Shut the fuck up, Hangman. There’s no way I’m staying here.”

“No room changes,” He grins, and you want to smother the expression off of his face with a pillow, “And no getting off, either. We just set sail.”

You bury your face in your hands. There’s no way you’re surviving this vacation. Not with Hangman- Hangman who acts like a toddler and pulls your hair whenever it’s not in the regulatory bun. Hangman who snatches food out of your hand if you hold it up for too long without eating it because you’re speaking. Hangman who delights in insulting you over the comms in the air, offering you flying lessons ‘’cause that move was pretty rusty, darlin’.’

There is absolutely no way in hell - which feels like your current location - that you’re taking a sex cruise with Jake Seresin, end of story.

“So, sex cruise, eh?” He muses from his spot on the bed, and you shoot him a glare so vicious you’re surprised he doesn’t drop dead.

“Yeah? You’re on it too, Hangman.”

“Easy,” He holds up a placating hand, “Wasn’t an insult. Just didn’t think you were the type.”

“To fuck?”

“To be desperate.” He shrugs, “Y’know, Y/L/N, if you wanted to have sex with me this bad, you could have just asked.”

“Stop it right now.” You insist, “This was not my doing, and so help me god I’m considering ripping that stupid porthole out of the wall and jumping ship. Clearly I’ve done something to upset the universe, so do not fucking expect me to enjoy this, Hangman.”

“You’re very pissy,” He notes, only making his observation more clear as your scowl deepens, “Relax, Y/L/N. I’ll give you a good time.”

“All you’re capable of giving me is a migraine.” You spit, a headache already brewing behind your eyes, “God, and why are you naked? Have some fucking class.”

“Class?” He repeats incredulously, a chuckle shaking his stupid, exposed chest, “This is a sex cruise! I’m near naked ‘cause I thought we’d fuck!’

“I’m not having sex with you.” You vow, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I’ll cycle through this entire ship twice before I even think about letting you at me, Hangman. Do you understand?”

“I understand’ He salutes, and the tease pisses you off, “Y’know, Y/L/N, I think you should let loose. Live a little, don’t be so uptight the whole time.”

“I’m uptight because you’re sprawled out over my bed without clothes on.” You groan, and then your brain comes late to another earth-shattering conclusion, “Oh, fuck, that’s the only bed!”

Hangman laughs, the sound thick and full of that cockiness you despise, “Damn right it is, darlin’. You gonna snuggle up next to me tonight?”

“No!” You gush, readjusting yourself on the loveseat so that you’re curled up on its cushions, “There, see? This is my bed. I’m sleeping here.”

“Oh, relax,” He scoffs, patting the space beside him. He’s turned towards you now, propped up on his elbow and boring into you with his stare “There’s plenty of room here. I’m just messing around.”

“I’m not.” You insist, “I’m not sleeping with you, Jake. Either way.”

“Well, you called me Jake,” He notes, shrugging his broad shoulders and settling back onto his pillows, “I’ll take what I can get.”

“You’re getting nothing.” You hiss, turning onto your back on the loveseat, “Fuck, what did I do to deserve this?”

“A week on a sex boat with me? Must’a bought a homeless man some groceries, saved a starvin’ puppy, caught a runaway baby stroller, that kinda thing.”

“It must have been the time when I scratched that Tesla and didn’t leave a note,” You groan, “Karma’s a bitch.”

Jake’s never been one to take insults or teasing gracefully. He retaliates with his own, his eyes still burning holes against the side of your face, “So, Y/N. Seen the shops yet?”

“No.” You grumble, “Didn’t know they had any.”

“Oh, yeah. Real nice stuff,” Jake drawls, “Y’know, lingerie, vibrators, sex chocolates, all that stuff.”

Your cheeks blaze and you honestly think you’d rather be back on base than here, “Shut up, Hangman.”

“I’m not lying!” And to his credit, you believe him. But lying isn’t the issue, it’s teasing, and you’re not sure you can handle seven days of it non-stop.

“I wonder if Daniel’s seen the shops,” You grumble, maybe just a little smug that you’d already hit it off with someone, assuming Jake hadn’t had the time to make out with anyone in an elevator yet.

Your brag works, and the muscles in his jaw tighten ever-so-slightly, such a small movement that you wouldn’t have seen it if you hadn’t been studying him.

When he speaks, there’s a familiar tension in his eyes, one you're used to seeing when someone ignites his overinflated sense of competition, “Daniel? That the guy you tongued in the elevator?”

You let out an incredulous cry, as if he’s wrong, “What? What- how did you know that! We didn’t tongue,” You scoff, reminiscing on the heavenly feeling of Daniel’s tongue smoothing over your own.

“Mhm. Sure. That’s why your lips are all swollen and shiny. ‘Cause you two stood six feet apart.”

You feel judged opposite Jake’s narrowed eyes, and you retort, “Okay, fine. We kissed. Is that a bad thing? This is a sex cruise, I’m supposed to get lucky.”

“All I’m sayin’ is you were snappin’ at me to have some class, but I’m not the one who frenched someone in a public facility. Did you even wait for it to be cleared out, or did you just go at it in the crowd?”

“It was empty.” You huff, practically slamming your head back down onto the couch cushions, “Shut up, Hangman.”

“I bet he pushed all the buttons to make it take longer,” Jake snickers, “Or- or did he back you up against ‘em? Smash your back into the panel and light the whole thing up like a Christmas tree?”

“Shut up!” You gush, taking one of the cushions from the couch and jamming it over your head, blocking his irritating voice from your ears.

You’re fucked.

Actually, you’re not fucked, and that’s the problem. You’d rather be just about anywhere else right now, but if you had your pick, you’d be in a different room, with a different roommate. One who wants to spread your legs and feast on what’s between them, one that wants to jam your throat with his cock until you’re begging for air. But you’re here instead, bunched up on a stiff loveseat, an itchy pillow over your face, and enemy number one lounging on the bed you have to share with him tonight.

You’d rather be fucked.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[bekaterrier]

Happy Audio Drama Sunday!

I wanted to start off by shouting out @podcast-bookclub for the fantastic Audio Fiction Convention they organized for this weekend. I'm still catching up on some of the sessions that weren't in my timezone, but I wanted to highlight a couple I've really enjoyed so far:

- Worldbuilding for Audio Fiction by Meg Tuten

- Crowdfunding for Audio Drama by Tal Minear

- BIPOC Rep in Audio Drama by Motzie Dapul

- Remediation of Fiction Podcasts by MJ

There have also been some incredibly interesting panels on writing for audio, using music as a story element, etc. If you haven't checked it out, the VODs are available on the podcast bookclub's twitch channel, and I highly suggest you check them out.

Also check out the discord, and especially the Artist's Alley where myself and other awesome artists have our podcast-inspired art on display 😄

@midnightburgr Welcome to the Horizon Part 10 - Phoenix: So many things to love about this episode. Swamp Thing! Doug and Steve taking the lead on prepping for the disaster is incredible. Trinkett going for the mushrooms! The fucking Teds! And then my absolute favourite part they had me freaking out: Deidre and Verge ON THE MOON!!! [For those who don't know, the voice actors for Deidre and Verge were both in Moonbase Theta, Out, so the fact that their MB characters ended up on the Moon together is just... incredible. Love that for them.] 🌕

@thefringespod S1: AuFiCon inspired me to listening to more shows that I've had on my list for a while, and I started with TftFoR. The worldbuilding is incredible, and the way that it's slowly revealed throughout the season is so well done. I adored Minerva and her violin plucking sounds from the start, but just to show you part of my reaction notes from the end of the season: omgggggg MIN :(((( Crying for Sil. I knew something was up but I wasn't expecting that!!

I'm looking forward to continuing with S2! ✨

@wanderersjournalpod S1: Another show that's been on my list for a while, and that has super interesting world building. The mysterious magical journal is such an interesting way for two characters to communicate. I am absolutely fascinated by this world and these two characters, especially where Marigold has come from. However, I am also very worried for Pluto. Also I love creature. Thank goodness that S2 is in the works! 📔

@starfallpod - Act 1 Scene xix: I couldn't help but laugh at the comment that they're two sacks of potatoes lighter now that Leona has her appetite back. I do love when characters get put in situations with people they might not normally be with, and this was no exception. Especially when the whole goal was for them to get into trouble but in a specific area (which they did). Did Centhy even actually need those flowers? 🌸

@ameliapodcast S5 Part 1: I am absolutely loving the journey into the past that we're taking with both Kozlowski and The Interviewer. I am also wondering how reliable these narrators are...though the CIA checked out Kozlowski's stories! Can't wait to keep delving into their stories. 🐦‍🔥

[belle--ofthebrawl]

V important question: does Mugler Angel really smell like church? I'm one of those freaks who likes that smell and the idea of going about my sinful queer business smelling of Lent is uhhh. very appealing to me for reasons I think you understand

No.

Mugler, while making beautiful and unique fragrances, is still very a much mainstream brand you can find in Ulta and Sephora. To keep their spots there, they ultimately have to play it safe in terms of exploration. As someone who grew up going to Catholic schools, going to church every Sunday and every god damn holy day of Obligation and every Wednesday in Lent/Advent for Eucharist Adoration, this doesn't smell like that to me. What I am about to say next is not a dig at anyone; we all have our own tastes. But the average customer at Ulta and Sephora going to pick up a Mugler scent is not going to want to smell like heavy incense and cedar pews sweating years of wax and polish. There are other places to go for that.

You'd have more luck finding this sort of scent in the incense tag of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and beyond. BPAL makes up the majority of my sample collection because you can get 6 imp ears (1ml samples) for about 36$ and they also throw in three freebies. You can't get that sort of deal anywhere else, I've looked. And if someone else has, point me to it. Please.

Anyway, hope I don't come across as too bitchy about this!! I just have very specific scent-memories connected with "church smell". I don't hate Mugler! Aura by Mugler (now discontinued, rip) got me so good I bought a full bottle off eBay and decanted some to take to New York with me last year. Thanks for this question, Mal, have fun going on the hunt.

[mizuki-foreshadowing]

What Lies Beyond Guiding a Lost Child, Episode 1

This story explores Mafuyu's relationship with her mother, the ways Mafuyu wants to make her proud and the ways she makes sure Mafuyu understands the love she shows is conditional.

While Mizuki can't directly relate, having a good relationship with her parents, Mizuki has always been sympathetic to Mafuyu's complicated emotions about her relationship with her mother. Mizuki has felt connected to Mafuyu in this way ever since she accidentally eavesdropped on Mafuyu's mother speaking to her in the Main Story. Mizuki does understand what it's like to face problems that may not be possible to solve or feel as though they could ever be explained to another, and Mizuki will be the most patient with Mafuyu in Episode 4.

In the previous event that Mizuki appeared in, she gave Rui the courage to create his ideal show for the Cheer Competition. To thank her, Rui gives Mizuki four tickets for her and her friends to see a specific show at the Wonder Stage, the tickets only good for that day (and that show). While we don't actually get to see what the show is, it's an important part of Mizuki's story, even if it does happen behind the scenes.

Even Kanade is eager to go, facing a creative slump she wants inspiration to help get out of, but Mafuyu declines. She's busy on Sunday, because she's taking a practice exam as part of her cram school; she's busy as part of being a model student.

Mizuki doesn't fight Mafuyu on it at all, simply letting her decline. On the one hand, this had been Mizuki's one chance to see Mafuyu at Phoenix Wonderland, to see new sides to the friends she's once more looking forward to getting close with. The Mystery Tour, the first time she felt this way, is even referenced in this episode. Moreover, Mizuki often seems to intercede on behalf of group cohesion. (Kanade is not remotely equipped to hold such moody people together.) She's a bit of a mediator, and this would be a time Mafuyu gets left out of an experience that might be a really memorable one. Attending the show Sunday is part of her relationship with Rui, and something Kanade wants to do, so if Ena didn't intervene, the three of them would go, and go without Mafuyu. (Indeed they will, but for a different reason.)

On the other hand, Mafuyu cites an actual scheduling conflict related to her studies. I don't think Mizuki knows specifically whether Mafuyu also cares about her academics or if it's something she only values because her mother expects it of her, but it would be clear to her that it's something Mafuyu's mother is related to. Mizuki had only just closed an arc of her own where she would refuse things for seemingly no reason, because of emotions she can't communicate.

Ena doesn't understand why Mizuki would back down so easily, and presses Mafuyu, making a case for her still being able to come with them for such a memorable evening. Mizuki changes her tune, supporting Ena's attempt to include Mafuyu. I think this might be a part of the diconnect Mizuki has with Ena after the Footsteps arc; Ena thinks Mizuki is finding her way back to who she was before Secret Distance, while Mizuki knows the opposite is happening, Ena's promise enabling her to keep everyone's love without ever needing to actually confide her secret. Here, Mizuki would want to be that version of herself that Ena imagines. It's either that, or Mizuki realizes that now, she looks as though she wants to exclude Mafuyu and clears up that she doesn't.

Mafuyu's mom overhears the 1:00 a.m. voice call and asks Mafuyu what's going on, Mafuyu lying that she was watching a movie in English without subtitles to practice her listening.

Mafuyu returns to the call and mentions her mother, before saying definitively that she no longer wants to go to PXL, changing her mind. She'll stay late so that she can perfect her practice exam.

Mizuki folds right away, and Ena follows suit, Ena asking Mafuyu to let them know if she gets any free time in the future. But, this time Mizuki knows Mafuyu changed her mind following an encounter with her mom. She knows this relates directly to the complicated emotions Mafuyu feels regarding her relationship with her mother.

Mizuki suggests a return trip to PXL that includes Mafuyu on some later date. The current one will still happen, both because Kanade needs inspiration and because Rui has a show he wants Mizuki to bring her newfound high school friends to see.

Mizuki is prioritizing Mafuyu not being forced to confront emotions she can't yet, over having a uniquely memorable experience with all four of them, despite Mizuki wanting to make memories with her friends again.

[thecourtscorkboard]

Turnabout Memories (3-1)

For the first time, we're not playing as Phoenix: we're defending him on charges of murder in Turnabout Memories!

After a well-rested holiday break, we're back! 3-1 marked a cornerstone for the series going forward: multiple protagonists! This is the first case of the final game in the trilogy: are our memories of this case rose-tinted or is it better than we remember? Let's take a look!

THE CORE CAST:

Mia Fey: For the first time in the entire series, the main defense attorney for this case isn't Phoenix—it's the late Mia Fey, in her prime!

Phoenix Wright: Phoenix is an art student in college and the defendant for this case, charged with murder for the first—and as we know not the last—time in his life!

Winston Payne: We get a look at a young Winston Payne here, pompadour and all.

THE MAIN CAST:

Dahlia Hawthorne: Phoenix's girlfriend, a literature student at Ivy U, and a witness in this case, trying to get her own partner convicted for murder!

Doug Swallow: Yeah, he looks like he does. Jokes aside, he's our victim in this case and a fellow Ivy U student: specifically in pharmacology.

A BRIEF RECAP

Two men are arguing. One of them is telling the other to stay away from a girl, and the argument escalates with the one of them pushing the other to the ground: the camera pans up and we're met with the culprit... Phoenix?!

He looks like a Sim, doesn't he?

Trial, Day One

When we load into the case, we find that we're not playing as Phoenix: we're playing as Mia, of all people! That's right: this case takes place five short years ago, at the beginning of Mia's career.

Says the guy who sold out her mother...

Our co-counsel for this case is Marvin Grossberg: dressed in his Sunday best, I might add! When we finally get to meet Phoenix he's a stark contrast from his usual self—instead of sarcastic and a bit cynical, he's over-the-top and a little balls-to-the-wall like a certain Butz we know. He's got the mother of all head colds, it seems, but before we can really get into the conversation it's time for us to head into the courtroom.

Our prosecuting attorney for the day is Mr. Winston Payne himself: not looking too shabby, either, what with the pompadour and all. He's definitely a bit of a jerk in this trial, but he's more than willing to lay out the facts for us. Phoenix Wright allegedly killed another student named Doug Swallow, and students discovered Doug's body alongside Phoenix who allegedly bungled his getaway. Great.

The cause of death is rather strange, as well: Doug was electrocuted! Furthermore, there was quite a bit of bad blood between Doug and Phoenix due to Phoenix's girlfriend, Dahlia Hawthorne. Wait. Phoenix has a girlfriend?! ...Huh. Okay. Anyways, apparently Doug had warned Phoenix to stay away from her: and, according to the prosecution, died for it.

The first witness today is Phoenix himself.

He looks like one of those soggy cat pictures.

Phoenix testifies about his relationship with Doug. After saying that Doug was a quote-unquote "stuck-up British wannabe" (sounds familiar...) we get to press him for more information: Phoenix says that he knows Doug was a Teaboo because of the Union Jack on the back of his shirt. When we ask him how he knew this information, given that Doug was wearing a leather jacket... he starts crying! Mia rather hilariously tells Grossberg to let him cry as the "'P' on his chest doesn't stand for 'Phoenix' anyway!" Yeowch! Payne decides to dig Phoenix's grave a little deeper by asking him if he's taking medicine for the cold: Phoenix says that he's taking Coldkiller X, and a bottle of the stuff was found in Doug's hand: with Phoenix's fingerprints all over it! It's looking more and more open and shut by the minute.

Phoenix testifies once more: Doug called him to meet at the Pharmacology building at 2:45. Phoenix left at 3:00, with Doug still alive—and when he went back to see if Doug was still there, he found his body. As for the Coldkiller X, he lost his bottle around noon. We press Phoenix more and more and eventually learn that the Pharmacology department uses high-voltage wires for its machines. This must be our murder weapon: Payne praises our deductive skills but points out that there's more evidence in regards to Phoenix's guilt. After all, his palm print was found pushed rather roughly into Doug's leather jacket!

Phoenix admits that he pushed Doug, but that Doug didn't die when he pushed him. There was some sort of loud crack, but there's no way that this was the electrical wires: after all, when they had their fight there weren't any cables around.

ey b0ss can i habe acquittal plz

We press Phoenix for more information and learn that Doug fell on top of his umbrella. Now this is weird: there's no umbrella at the crime scene. But if he really did fall on an umbrella, then that leaves one conclusion. He had to have been pushed by Phoenix somewhere else! After he was pushed by Phoenix, he walked away! This blows a massive hole in Payne's case. He's not quick to give up, however, and says that the prosecution has another witness: Dahlia Hawthorne. Mia makes a mysterious remark that she's been waiting for this and His Honor calls a recess for Payne to prepare.

Phoenix tells us a bit more about Dahlia—they met eight months ago and she gave him a small heart-shaped bottle to hold onto. Every time she's seen him since then, though, all she's wanted is the bottle back. Weird, right? Mia suddenly asks if Phoenix met his Dollie on August 27. He says yes, and we drop a bombshell: that's the same day that a murder was committed in the courthouse! Grossberg goes down to the reading room to see if he can get some more info on this murder. Could Dahlia be the murderer in both of these cases...?

Regardless, court is re-convened and Dahlia is called to the stand.

This is the face of a person who will throw away every single limited edition copy of Berserk I own if I forget one thing about them.

Meet Dahlia Hawthorne, Phoenix's girlfriend. Yes, I was as surprised as you. After a few very awkward seconds of His Honor and Winston hitting on a 19 year old girl—and after that a very obviously rehearsed performance, including saying that Phoenix couldn't have killed Doug despite her coming out here as a witness against him—Dahlia begins to give her testimony about what she saw.

According to her own testimony, Dahlia says that Phoenix and Doug (or "Dougie" as she calls him, 'cuz all the bitches love me) were having an argument when Doug just sort of... collapsed. We press to proceed with cross-examination and Dahlia looks at us and gives us a very sinister "You haven't changed a bit... Mia Fey." It looks like we do have history together.

After pressing her for more information, Dahlia slips up: she says that she didn't hear or see anything unusual, which we know can't be true because of the umbrella that broke when Phoenix pushed Doug. Dahlia counters by saying she had headphones on and was listening to music. It was storming, you see, and she's afraid of thunder: and things start to fall into place. Remember that Doug died by a strong electric shock? Well, what if he was struck by lightning?! This is an incredibly spurious claim. But there's something backing it up: it was storming and we've already established that Phoenix could not have pushed Doug into the electrical wires at the chemistry department!

Payne quickly retorts, however. The prosecution investigated this possibility and determined that no lightning strikes were recorded at Ivy U on the day of the murder! Furthermore, the pharmacology building lost power at about 2:55 that day—the cables are definitely connected, then. But how did Doug get electrocuted if Phoenix didn't push him?

All in, baby.

We give an explanation for the power outage: it was caused by Phoenix shoving Doug. This did not kill him, though. The umbrella was found by an electrical pole, and Phoenix shoved Doug into the pole: causing the pole to shake and the cable to snap! This couldn't have electrocuted Doug, either, as the cable snapped too far away from the fight. We've now established that it was impossible for Phoenix to have electrocuted Doug!

Dahlia objects, stating that some of what we said is different from how she remembers it. Dahlia says that Phoenix pushed Doug twice: and the court's buying this nonsense! She says that it all occurred in less than a minute but we know that's not true. Doug was wearing a wristwatch that froze at 3:05 PM, when he was electrocuted. When did the pharmacology lab report its power outage? 2:55 PM—that's a difference of ten entire minutes! We grab the bull by the horns and posit that this is when the real murderer killed Doug Swallow. And who's the real murderer? There's only one person it could be: Dahlia Hawthorne.

Phoenix fights for his girlfriend's innocence but is grabbed by the bailiff. Mia rather hilariously asks him if he's "daft". Grossberg is back with the police report from the poisoning: Dahlia asks us why she would kill Doug and blame it on Phoenix. We ask for more testimony from Dahlia about the day she met Phoenix—the day of the murder in the courthouse!

I'm just sickened by you both in general...

Dahlia tells us that she met Phoenix in the courthouse and fell in love at first sight. Phoenix hilariously interjects himself into her testimony and His Honor has to threaten contempt of court. We press Dahlia about her new testimony, namely about why she came to the courthouse. She says that she was doing a research paper, but we know the true reason. She came here to poison somebody. After all, the formal suspect in the murder in the courthouse—which was indeed a poisoning, one as lethal as 2 teaspoons—was Dahlia Hawthorne! Even though Dahlia says that she had nothing to do with the poisoning, we've successfully linked the two cases together. Dahlia testifies about the poisoning case and says she wouldn't even know where to get a lethal poison.

This, of course, is a lie. After all, Doug was a pharmacology student! Dahlia had access to this special poison through him. The only person that could've poisoned the lawyer was the person sitting with him: Dahlia Hawthorne! There's one issue that Dahlia is eager to point out. 2 teaspoons is a small amount, sure, but you'd still need a container. Fortunately, we have such a container. The necklace that she gave Phoenix! This is why she wanted him to give it back! Dahlia's last line of defense is broken. Phoenix tries to stand up for her but it's no use. After learning the truth of the necklace, he runs out of the courtroom.

Huh. I just noticed her umbrella turns upside-down. Neat.

We later realize that Phoenix slammed into Mia and grabbed the necklace! The bailiff managed to catch him, however, and Phoenix is brought back to the courtroom where he tells us he...

...ate...

the necklace. The necklace with the poison in it. The poison for the lawyer, the poison specifically made for the lawyer, the lawyer's poison. That poison. Mia calls for the trial to immediately be stopped so Phoenix can be treated for poisoning: but Payne says that the poison would've already killed him by now, therefore the necklace couldn't have had any! Our case is donezo, isn't it?

Phoenix, however, stands up for us for once. He says that the argument he had with Doug was about Dahlia: about how she stole poison not once, but twice! Once eight months ago, and once last night. Dahlia was crouched down right next to Doug's body after Phoenix went to check on him, too! Dahlia stole the poison to kill somebody: Phoenix himself.

Dahlia drops her façade and belittles Phoenix. Tearing apart our case as baseless speculation (which, to be fair, it is), we're asked by Grossberg himself to stop to save our reputation as a lawyer. We manage to grasp at the thinnest of straws, though! If Dahlia really wanted to kill Phoenix, then where would she put the poison? He has a very nasty cold, so she'd of course put it in his cold medicine. Remember! Phoenix lost his bottle of Coldkiller X around noon. After poisoning the bottle she found Phoenix and Doug arguing, and killed Doug to silence him. Dahlia tries to call out our explanation as being conjecture and Mia coolly tells her to take a pill if she's that confident. Dahlia doesn't. What about Winston? Nope.

Dahlia is finally defeated, hoist by her own petard on the cold medicine.

Probably one of my favorite sprites in the game.

After Dahlia's arrest, Payne is still unable to accept our claims. We dare him to try some cold medicine and he's so shocked about his defeat that his hair flies off, glorious pompadour gone with the wind.

Bald! Bald! Bald! Bald! Bald! (MY EYES!)

After the trial, Phoenix thanks us for our help. He says that he's made up his mind: he's going to really shoot for being a lawyer. Mia's performance in court has made him double-down on this path, given that there's an anonymous friend he's determined to save. We wish him luck and part ways... for now.

In a brief epilogue, we get a monologue by Phoenix talking about this trial. Apparently something's happened that has caused these memories to resurface. In any case, this ends Turnabout Memories!

What Really Happened?

Everything started right before Dahlia met Phoenix. She had been behind the murder of another person in the courthouse, and met Phoenix there. Pretending to be smitten with him, she hoisted the bottle she used to poison this other person on him as a "gift". The two began dating, with Dahlia constantly requesting the bottle be given back. Phoenix kept it, however.

Determined to get the bottle back from him, Dahlia concocted a plan to kill Phoenix by poisoning his cold medicine. Doug Swallow caught wind of the plot, however, and warned Phoenix: Phoenix, in disbelief and anger, pushed Doug into an electrical pole. This snapped both the cable and Doug's own umbrella. Doug and Phoenix walked away, but Doug loitered around the area. This gave Dahlia a new opportunity. Doug knew what she had done and she knew that he was the type to tell, so she grabbed the electrical wires and murdered Doug with them.

Playing the part of a mourning friend, she planted the poisoned cold medicine in his hand to frame Phoenix who later stumbled upon Doug's body and was arrested for his murder.

THOUGHTS

I do not like Turnabout Memories very much. It's a case with a weak mystery, weak structure, and a weak ending surrounded by weak characters.

Speaking of: Phoenix. Or "Feenie", as the fandom lovingly refers to him as in this case. God, I can't stand him. He's so fucking annoying. In many ways this just straight up does not feel like Phoenix: and I get that's the point, to show how different he was before and after meeting Mia, but he's so fucking obnoxious that after only a few lines of dialogue into the case it's hard not to want to punch him. He's my least favorite defendant in the entire trilogy by an incredibly wide margin: every moment with him on screen is, and I hate to use this adjective, cringey. He feels very very very out of character, and while I'd understand this to an extent he just feels so far removed from who Phoenix is as a person that it's really hard to suspend my disbelief.

The actual case is remarkably... okay. I think the conclusion is very anti-climactic, even though it's a pretty cool gambit on Mia's part. A time gap of ten minutes is a little hard for me to believe, alongside electrical cables snapping that easily (seriously, how poorly-maintained is the pharmacology lab if somebody can break in twice to steal poison and electrical cables will snap if you shake a pole slightly?), but I like the setting. Doug is a cool victim and while Dahlia isn't really my cup of tea she's a perfectly fine first villain, especially for what this game does later. It's very cut-and-dry, and while I get it's a first case it just feels very lame. It has a cool introduction and a neat defendant twist, but in practice it falls flat in a lot of areas especially near the end.

Being able to play as Mia is really cool, and I like how done with everybody's shit she is. Winston is at his best here, and His Honor has a decent showing as well. Grossberg is probably the best character from this case, honestly. He's a very strong co-counsel and it's really interesting to see Mia actually working for him when we know that he's the reason her life was ruined: it's a really nice bit of dramatic irony that I wish we got a bit more of throughout the series.

What did y'all think about 3-1? I've seen a lot of conflicting opinions on it, myself. It's not nearly as polarizing as 1-5 or 4-4 (more on 4-4 later), but it's still got a fair share of both detractors and fans.

We'll be moving on to 3-2, The Stolen Turnabout, next time: a new case, a new prosecutor, and an old attorney! See you then!

Final Rating: 3/10

FAVORITE LINES

"Let him! That 'P' on his chest doesn't stand for 'Phoenix' anyways!" - Mia Fey, after pointing out the first contradiction

"Yeowch!! Wh-Why did you punch me in the jaw!?" "Oh! I-I'm so sorry...! I just felt like hurting someone all of a sudden!" - Marvin Grossberg and Mia Fey, after Phoenix starts talking about Dahlia

"It feels like my hemorrhoids are doing the Harlem Shake!" - Marvin Grossberg, showing off his impressive knowledge of Filthy Frank lore

(Well, we know whose milkshake brings all the boys to the yard...) - Mia Fey, about Dahlia

"What the...!? Are you daft!?" - Mia Fey, after Phoenix tries to defend Dahlia

CASE RANKINGS

Turnabout Memories (3/10)

[kairologia]

Planets in Hellenistic Astrology — part 1 : the ascendant + the luminaries (sun/moon).

Where modern astrology places the emphasis on signs, traditional astrology deems planets THE most important part of the practice. It places planets as actors whereas everything else serves as setting, stage & costumes.

The form of astrology I practice focuses on the use of the 7 traditional planets, as outers (Uranus/Neptune/Pluto) had yet to be identified due to their invisibility to the naked eye — and though I still use them, I don’t emphasize them as much. The 7 traditional planets are usually divided thus: the Luminaries (Sun/Moon), fast-moving Personal Planets (Mercury/Venus/Mars) and slow-moving Social Planets (Jupiter/Saturn).

Now that we got that out of the way, moving on to the actual point of the post,

The core of the chart : the sun, moon & rising.

The core of the chart is represented by the luminaries plus the ascendant. I sadly often come across descriptions of this triad that are too vague or not explained clearly & understandably, which often leads to widespread misconceptions around what these three components represent (especially the sun + ascendant).

Simply put, the Sun and Moon represent the two energy or power sources of the body/mind — as these Celestial Bodies provide most of the light in the heavens. They are luminary bodies that carry distinct energies and symbolize archetypal influences that manifest based on their sign, house, and aspect placements.

The Sun is the emissive luminary & shows how one’s vital energies are spent. The Moon is the receptive luminary & shows how one’s energies are regenerated & recalibrated. The Sun and Moon combined represent the driver, where the Sun signifies the driver's actions, and the Moon signifies their reactions. The Ascendant, on the other hand, serves as the vehicle steered by the influences of the Sun and Moon.

— Starting with the Sun,

The Sun, through the annual cycle of solstices and equinoxes, establishes the seasons of the year. In a chart, the sun directly corresponds to the themes of the whole sign house of Leo. Much like the sun enables visibility in the universe, it allows topics ruled by the sun (i.e, whichever house Leo occupies in one’s chart) to become prominently visible in our lives. As an example, if Leo is in your first house, the sun represents your identity, what with it ruling your first house of self, and if Leo is in your fifth house, it signifies that the sun rules over matters related to your pleasure, sexual and romantic pursuits and enjoyment of life, and so on for other house placements.

As an isolated archetype, the sun, being a life source, symbolizes aspirations, a drive to enlighten or illuminate something, mirroring its central role in the solar system where everything orbits around it. This conveys a sense of being drawn towards embodying and actualizing the self in a specific manner — making it an aspirational energy.

In addition to what was stated previously, the sun represents vitality, spirit, soul, the conscious mind, intellect, the father, judgement, public reputation, action, and authority. It holds a place in the day sect.

This isn't to negate any potential resonance with your sun sign, as resonance means different things to different people.

Trivia :

— Domicile: Leo

— Exaltation: Aries

— Detriment: Aquarius

— Fall: Libra

— Quality : Hot and Dry (choleric temperament)

— Colors: Gold, yellow, amber

— Professions: Leaders, royalty, professions that work with solar significations

— Places: Houses, palaces, theaters, halls

— Day of the Week: Sunday

— Body Parts: Heart, eyes

— Animals: Lions, felines, eagle, phoenix, nightingale

— Minerals & stones : Gold, Chrysolite

— Moon :

The Moon defines the lunar months through her cycle of waxing & waning phases. She primarily symbolizes the themes of the whole sign house that Cancer occupies in your chart.

The moon stands out as the most impermanent celestial indicator, residing in each zodiac sign for no longer than two and a half days. Its phases undergo constant shifts, mirroring elements that are in perpetual flux, such as bodily cycles, our bodies in general, mood variations, and all sorts of cyclic phenomena such as routines.

While its influence extends over emotions, it encompasses more than just that aspect. The moon serves as a mechanism of recalibration of both our emotional and physical well-being.

The moon also represents the body, sensations, emotion, memories, the "gut brain," intuition, senses, the mother, the lineage, women, conception, appearance, sight, nurture, older brothers, housekeeping, possessions, silver, and glass. It is of the night sect.

Trivia :

— Domicile: Cancer

— Exaltation: Taurus

— Detriment: Capricorn

— Fall: Scorpio

— Quality : Cold and Wet (phlegmatic)

— Places: Mountains, bodies of water, baths, fishponds, springs, docks

— Colors: Silver, white, pale blue

— Day of the Week: Monday

— Professions: Sailors, nurses, midwives, messengers, travelers, fishermen

— Body Parts: Breasts, fem reproductive system

— Minerals & stones: Moonstone, pearls, selenite, silver

— Animals: Fishes, creatures that live in water or come out at night

— And lastly, the ascendant;

The rising sign corresponds to the zodiac sign ascending above the eastern horizon at the time of your birth & containing the exact degree of your ascendant.

From a technical standpoint, the rising sign forms the foundation of your natal chart & sets the tone for it, acting as a cornerstone & subsequently dictating the house placements for all celestial bodies.

A birth chart is a comprehensive map of your entire life, encompassing more than just your personality traits — with this in mind, the rising sign (being the 1st house) holds a direct connection to you. It directly signifies you — your physical form, your identity, personality, character, and overall vitality.

I want to clarify that the ascendant being the you indicator in a chart does not imply that it encapsulates the totality of your essence. Astrology is nuanced, complex & there is no such thing as a “core” self. It’s not sun, not the moon, & not the rising either. Humans are all too complex for such oversimplifications and astrology mirrors that. Nevertheless, the rising sign remains the primary indicator you’d look at where “me” topics such personality are concerned.

It also important to note that the rising sign dictates the trajectory of transits within your natal chart, forming the basis for horoscopes and forecasts. So when reading horoscopes, go with your rising sign!

Fun fact: historically, when asked for your sign, you were expected to answer with your rising sign, a practice prevalent for millennia & until around a century ago. The shift towards sun signs was, simply put, an accident in history (thanks, Alan Leo!)

Part 2 : Mercury/Venus/Mars/Jupiter/Saturn.

Check pinned if you want to book with me!

[bluecanvasshoe]

Blue's Masterlist

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! :) (rules + fandoms at the bottom of this page)

angst: ☁️ | fluff: ☀️ | hurt-comfort: ⛅ | romance: ❤️

Red Dead Redemption

Act Naturally - request ⛅

Reader slips up on a robbery and is understandably upset; father-figure Hosea comes to the rescue.

Everything Eats and is Eaten (Time is Fed) - series ☁️, ⛅

After the falling out of the gang, you're left wondering many things, but a big one is "what next"? Well, this is what. Follow YOU as you discover secrets about the gang in times past, your own family, and more!!

Red Dead Redemption 2 & teen!fem!reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Runaway

Chapter 2.5 (unnecessary/a little side-fic) - She’s Leaving Home

Chapter 3 - Time and Place

Chapter 4 - I Still Miss Someone

Chapter 5 - I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive

Chapter 6 - Sunday Morning Coming Down

Chapter 7 - :)

Chapter 8 - I Walk the Line

Chapter 9 - Five Brothers

Chapter 10 - I Think of You

Chapter 11 - Keep On the Sunny Side

*****Chapters without a link are being written/going to be written!*****

The Last of Us: Part II

See disclaimer here

Not Ellie - not an x reader ☁️

After an encounter at the Seattle Aquarium leaves Ellie confused and thinking, she falls down a rabbit hole of reflection and stomach-churning regret.

Harry Potter

I do not support JKR!

Marauders 🦌🐕‍🦺🌕🐀

Obstacles - Platonic!Marauders x muggleborn!Hufflepuff!fem!reader ☀️

You remake old memories with the Marauders, and sparklers are, for once, used correctly in their vicinity.

Frankly, Mr. Shankly - Platonic!Marauders x gn!Gryffindor!reader ⛅

You've been feeling inadequate in everything, really. It seems the people you thought were pushing you away are the only ones who can help calm these thoughts.

Loopy Lupin - not an x reader! Wolfstar ☀️

After a rough moon, Remus is given different medicine. The chaotic aftermath of it is incredibly amusing to a certain group of boys.

Our General is Cool?? - not an x reader! Jily, Wolfstar ☁️☀️

A new mission is on the horizon; one that G Company doesn't have enough soldiers for. However, it seems that this is among many responsibilities of 20 year-old soldiers amidst a war. (This blurb is an introduction to an idea)

Wait a Minute, Mister Postman! - Marauders x gn! reader, Jily, Wolfstar ❤️, ☀️

You are a mail carrier for the Order of the Phoenix and a full-time barn owl animagus. One day, however, you deliver a letter to a peculiar Order headquarters and meet some even stranger (yet incredibly alluring) people.

----

Want to be added to my taglist for my series or all fics in general? Leave a comment! :)

request rules under here!

RULES FOR REQUESTS:

Random but important!

-please include a brief plot for the fic! (ex. reader is sick and character takes care of them, character and other character have a study date, etc)

-funny lil blurbs are accepted (and encouraged, i love them)

-moreover, please specify what kind of fic you want! (ex. oneshot, headcanons, blurb, etc)

-if age isn’t specified, i will choose what i think works best

-if gender isn’t specified, the reader will be gender neutral

-if fic form isn’t specified, i will choose what works best

-if words platonic or relating to platonic (father figure, mother figure, brother, sister, etc) isn’t included, i’ll default to romance

DON’TS

-NOTHING NSFW.

-self harm or major depressive themes

-explicit descriptions or acts of racism, homophobia, ableism, all that bad stuff. (i don’t mind mentions, im just not comfortable writing it 9 times out of 10)

-fics about real, living human beings

i’m allowed to reject or ignore a request i am not comfortable with. i will not be negotiating these rules.

DO’S

-i’m mostly catering to my fellow platonic x reader people, but romance isn’t something i’m opposed to writing (still on the fence about it, though)

-i’m 100% willing to write character x character fics!

Fandoms I write for:

-Red Dead Redemption 2

-Harry Potter (Marauders specifically, but other eras are good too!)

-Team Fortress 2

[kimyadawson]

It’s Bandcamp Friday! Bandcamp waives their cut today so it’s a great day to support musicians!

https://kimyadawson1.bandcamp.com/music

I’m excited to announce that crew and knee socks are back in stock AND the knee socks stretch to 21” before the design gets weird! The text has been moved to the foot on these because it works better that way with the enhanced stretch-ability.

And I heard you and have added black shirts to the preorder options. Shirts are available from youth xs (2/4) up to a 7x!

There are also copies of the remastered Remember That I Love You album (red vinyl) and pin packs available!

https://kimyadawson1.bandcamp.com/merch

This Sunday Clyde and I are heading out on a little tour! New shows have been added! Here are the dates:

Monday Oct 9

Kimya Dawson

Your Heart Breaks

Car Crash Hearts

7pm

$20 suggested donation no advanced tickets

All ages

At the Tri Co-ops (outside)

530 Regan Hall Cir

Davis, CA

Masks strongly encouraged

Wednesday October 11

Kimya Dawson

Your Heart Breaks

$20

at TBA SECRET OUTDOOR LOCATION in Phoenix, AZ

Doors at 7:00pm / Show at 8:00pm

All Ages

Masks strongly encouraged

https://www.thetrunkspace.com/product/10-11-2023-kimya-dawson/260

Friday October 13

Kimya Dawson

Michael Hurley

Kinky Friedman

Growling Old Men

at Welcome Home Festival

Kerrville, TX

https://kerrvillefolkfestival.ticketspice.com/welcome-home-fest-2023

Saturday August 14

Kimya Dawson

Your Heart Breaks

Hamell on Trial

Graham Wilkinson

at The Museum of Human Achievement (outside) Austin, TX $20

Parking lot opens at 3:30, music starts at 4pm

All ages are welcome but it’s not a show specifically for kids.

Bring something to sit on. Masking is encouraged.

https://withfriends.co/event/16741456/kimya_dawson_your_heart_breaks_hamell_on_trial_and_graham_wilkinson

Monday October 16th

Kimya Dawson

Your Heart Breaks

Mega Ran

at The Splinter Collective (outside)

Tucson, AZ

7pm, All ages

Masks encouraged

https://givebutter.com/kimya

Tuesday October 17th

Kimya Dawson

Your Heart Breaks

and more

at Taylor Junction (outside)

Joshua Tree, CA

Details TBA

Wednesday October 18th Kimya Dawson

Your Heart Breaks

Rymodee

Practicing Sincerity (solo set)

Outside at SubRosa

Santa Cruz, CA

Doors 6pm

All Ages

$20 suggested donation (no advance ticket sales)

No vampires turned away for lack of funds.

[awellboiledicicle]

Actual Write Up of Spiders, Mo

Name: Spiders Mok, "Mo"

Age: 31

Height: 5'5"

Sexuality: Panromantic demisexual

Pronouns: they/them

Gender: Genderfluid

Previous Life: Formerly a secretary and financial manager for a rural fire department that did not pay them well enough. College educated, but really only used it to talk about creative writing projects and analyze media. Loved to crochet and garden--specifically tomatoes and whatever peppers they could get to grow. Was very invested in biology and anthropology. Enjoyed making crochet blankets and scarves. Was trying their best to get a job at the local library before it all stops. Suffered from fibromyalgia, had ADHD and is autistic.

Current life: One of the many humans from the Phoenix. They meander about, tending their garden and getting by. Their newfound durability makes doing a lot of work a bit easier with their condition, if only because they worry less about their pain meaning actual damage to their body. It's mostly managed with edibles they make from herbs Chayne got ahold of for them to grow in their garden. Is deeply suspicious of the Order for reasons they cannot put a finger on, due to the amnesia. Is prone to popping up at villagers homes at odd hours because something jogged their memory and they needed to tell someone, anyone about it. Gets extremely stressed out if told someone hasn't eaten in a long while, or that there's food insecurity. Has a protective streak for the kids in town. They have an entire room dedicated to treasure chests full of random trinkets, gemstones, and craft projects. Another room is totally dedicated to being a walk in aquarium, with their best catches cared for as needed. Can and will relay random stories they remember to the townsfolk; this includes epic adventures and once a story about a man-eating plant from outer space. Tends to stare at people's noses for long periods of time while they think, before blinking and going about the conversation. Has passed out in the woods from pushing themselves to get things for people before.

Best skills: Foraging and fishing.

Element: Fire

Shepp: They haven't asked one yet, mostly because they're anxious. Something sits in the back of their head that gives them pause about linking reputations with someone else.

Close to: The Daiya family makes them feel a weird homesickness for a place they can't remember, and they spend a lot of time discussing life with them. Feels a kinship with Reth after hearing how people talk about him, and doesn't really understand why until they remember a bit more. They and Tish bond over lingering illnesses, though Tish pointedly doesn't clarify much past that hers started in childhood.

Schedule: Gets up around 10 am, tends to the garden and eats breakfast. Leaves to go fishing and foraging at around 12 pm, and can be found wandering between Kilima and the Lighthouse on the coast until around 8 pm. Then they are either found in the Inn from 9 pm to 12 am, or the underground during the same times. Gets home around 1 am and eats dinner. On bad pain days, they come outside their house long enough to send a letter in to order take out before spending the rest of the day in bed. Spends Sundays and Mondays helping out on the farm--no one involved knows what those days are, but at some point they looked at a calendar and nodded, so no one argues. On these days they leave the house at 5 am and return home around 9 pm.

Close to: No one specifically yet, but Elouisa is probably the closest. Mostly because she'll take and run with any story they tell, coming up with a million theories that they promptly chat about. Jina is a close second, if only because she actually makes them think about details and that gets uncomfortable quickly.

Notes: They are, essentially, on the cryptid end of the 'humans that just showed up' scale. Largely because getting a supply of things that can treat their fibro AND their ADHD is a bitch. Because while the Majiri have stimulants, they need to work really close with Chayne to not overdo it while trying to focus. Which is very difficult with the tools available in Kilima. So instead they end up just spacing out, or jumping topics or being so laser focused on one that others rapidly find them rude for steamrolling the conversation. Tends to get very close to people and loom to illustrate their point/emphasize whatever they're saying. Will only look into people's eyes directly when they're trying to convey that they're not fucking around with what they're saying. Writes down literally everything they remember when something jogs their memory. It tends to look like gibberish to everyone else, because whatever writing system they know is complicated by their poor handwriting and misspellings. A bit too willing to nod along with Reth and Zeki's underground things, so long as no one is physically harmed. Mostly because they're too interested in where it'll end up. Is an unnervingly good shot, provided you do not want the head of something to be in tact. Which is annoying to Hassain, entirely because they have the shakes most other times and can't hit a target if he physically points them at it. They frustrate him a lot expressly because while they listen to him and learn from him, they don't map properly to every other human he has to interact with. Likes to chew on things. A lot. Their wooden spoons often have bite marks on the handles. The only reason anyone gets a gemstone as a present instead of every single one just being in their house is that they have too many. More so because they don't collect them based on value, they work on a purely "i like this one" vibes system. Has purposely touched every single fabric in Jel's shop before ordering anything and then spent fifteen mins trying to articulate their way into getting a tank top and cargo shorts. This was complicated expressly because Jel kept trying to add embellishments to the sketch of the idea and they had to explain that if he put embroidery on their shirt it would touch their stomach and it would kill them, sensory wise. The following order for trying to work out compression garments for their hands/arms and feet/legs felt like they were fucking with him. Randomly vocalizes at other autistic humans as a vocal stim and devolves the whole group into 'awawa's to the bafflement of every majiri and unfamiliar human nearby. Hates dealing with Eshe, but manages a perfect customer service voice when they have to. Kenyatta is told to speak like they do and tries to not laugh. Hates the Palian chocolate because it's texture it off. Reminds them of something called Valentines Day and cheap candy bought after it. Isn't sure what the holiday is for, though, assumes its to do with bees.

Posting this here because the discord server's oc forum confuses me, but i wanted to place them down gently and show them off.

[yallwildinrn]

Seven Sentence Sunday Monday

Phoenix post a challenge on the day you're supposed to do it challenge (IMPOSSIBLE). Regardless, thank you @justabigoldnerd and @pippinoftheshire for the tag!!

This is from a fic I have no idea if I'll end up posting bc it belongs to a very specific AU of mine & @heytheredeann's creation. It holds a very near and dear place in my heart, though, so maybe it'll see the light of day :)

Illya turns another page of his newspaper as he waits patiently in the dimly lit cellar. He leans against the chair further, and it creaks with irritation at the movement, but Illya pays it no mind. Metal clinks together as Napoleon organizes his tools for the hundredth. Illya could describe his partner in a few words: careful, methodical, prepared - and at the moment, bored. Illya smiles behind his newspaper as Napoleon hums some upbeat tune that he likely picked up from the radio earlier that evening. It seems they've both settled in for what could be a long wait, except... “Awake already?” Napoleon asks with a pleased tone to the other person in the room, and Illya pokes his head over the top of his newspaper to see if that statement rings true.

Tagging: @too-young-to-fall-in-love, @zappedbyzabka, @abracazabka, @amadeusevenstar, @heytheredeann, and anyone else I have forgotten to tag or who wants to join in!

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript:

Aurelio: Hey, sorry I’m late. It has been a long fucking week.   Phoenix: Tell me about it. Mine’s not even over yet. You want a beer?

Aurelio: Definitely. But what do you mean not over yet? Phoenix: I have to go back in tomorrow. I’ve gotta get someone in there to help me or there’s no way it’ll be open in time for winter. Aurelio: I thought you had Miko helping you. Phoenix: That was just temporary. She’s on another project now.

Aurelio: Damn, well, if I think of anyone, I’ll let you know. Phoenix: Thanks. Oh shit, is that Kiyoshi? Aurelio: Huh? Yeah, it is.

Phoenix: Hey man, what are you doing here? Kiyoshi: I moved here, just a couple weeks ago, transferred for work. Phoenix: No shit? Welcome to the city, we’re happy to have ya! Aurelio: Cheers to that!

Phoenix: So, what have you been up to? Kiyoshi: Actually, I was planning to give you guys a call. Phoenix: Yeah? Kiyoshi: I’ve been rock climbing more lately, and I’ve decided I’m going to do it. I’m going to climb to the top of Mt. Komorebi. Phoenix: What? That’s awesome!

Kiyoshi: Yeah, and a friend at work convinced me to let him come along. Figured we might as well get a group together. What do you think? Aurelio: That sounds amazing, really, but I don’t have the time to commit to something like that. Kiyoshi: Phoenix?

Phoenix: Uh, I don’t do heights, man. Kiyoshi: What? Bullshit! You’re telling me you can ride to the top of the slopes, and pull those tricks on your board, but you’re afraid of heights? Phoenix: I mean… ok no, more specifically, I don’t do dangling from mountainsides or cliffs. Better?

Kiyoshi: Oh c’mon, I know you, you would love it. This is the kind of challenge you need. Besides, the best way to deal with a fear is to face it head on, right? Phoenix: Ughhhh… Kiyoshi: Look, this guy, Atlas, he’s never climbed before either. We’re just starting out on the climbing wall at the gym. Easy peasy, ok?

Phoenix: Easy peasy, huh? When do you start? Kiyoshi: Sunday morning, 8am. Phoenix: 8am? Jesus. Ok. Kiyoshi: Aha, yes, I knew you would! You’re going to love it, I promise. Phoenix: Yeah, we’ll see.

[blueangeldreamland]

upcoming protests: free Palestine

update oct. 27, 2023

-i found information from online (websites listed) pls make sure to double check a protest is available!! as I don’t follow specific accounts that post protests. * feel free to correct me on info *

-take note of days you are available to go and protests near you

-bookmark pages if you want more reliable updates and info

-SEPARATED BY WEBSITE THEN DATES!!!

via answercoalition.org posted oct. 7, 2023

Saturday, October 28

Brainerd, MN

1:00 p.m.

Intersection of Sixth and Washington Streets (Across from the Historic Brainerd Water Tower)

Sponsored by: Brainerd Area Coalition for Peace (BACP), Brainerd Lakes United Environmentalists (BLUE), and Brainerd Lakes Area Democratic Socialists of America (BLA DSA)

Portland, OR

2:00 p.m.

Lownsdale Square

Sponsored by: AntiwarMN, SJP, AMP

Sunday, October 29

Worcester, MA

3:30 p.m.

Worcester City Hall (455 Main St.)

Sponsored by: JVP Western Mass, Palestinian Youth Movement

via uscpr.org unsure date updated

Friday, October 27

HOUSTON, TX | Friday, October 27th at 4PM at John P McGovern Commons 6550 Bertner Ave

OMAHA, NE | Friday, October 27th at 4PM at 72nd & Dodge

PHOENIX, AZ | Friday, October 27th at 4PM at State Capitol Building 1700 W Washington St.

BOSTON, MA | Friday, October 27th at 4PM at Brewer Fountain, Boston Commons

ALBANY, NY | Friday, October 27th at 4PM at West Capital Park

NEW YORK, NY | Friday, October 27th at 6PM at Midtown Manhattan (register for exact location)

DENTON, TX | Friday, October 27th at 7PM at Denton Courthouse-on-the-Square

Saturday, October 28

HARTFORD, CT | Saturday, October 28th at 12PM at 800 Main St.

SAN FRANCISCO, CA | Saturday, October 28th at 1PM at Harry Bridges Plaza (Embarcadero)

DALLAS, TX | Saturday, October 28th at 1:30PM at Civic Garden 1014 Main St.

ROSEBURG, OR | Saturday, October 28th at 2PM at Fred Meyers on Harvard

MILWAUKEE, WI | Saturday, October 28th at 2:30PM at 920 North Water St.

NEW YORK, NY | Saturday, October 28th at 3PM at Brooklyn Museum, 200 Eastern Pkwy

PORTLAND, OR | Saturday, October 28th at 3PM at 121 SW Salmon St.

ATLANTA, GA | Saturday, October 28th at 3PM at Georgia State Capitol (East Steps)

Sunday, October 29

NEWARK, NJ | Sunday, October 29th at 1:30PM at Newark City Hall 920 Broad St.

DENVER, CO | Sunday, October 29th at 2PM State Capitol West Steps 200 E Colfax Ave

COLORADO SPRINGS, CO | Sunday, October 29th at 2PM at CO Springs City Hall, 107 N Nevada Ave

AUSTIN, TX | Sunday, October 29th at 3PM at Texas Capitol

WATERBURY, CT | Sunday, October 29th at 3PM at City Hall 235 Grand St.

Saturday, November 4

NATIONAL MARCH ON WASHINGTON | Washington DC, November 4th, 2 PM. Freedom Plaza. Cosponsored by USCPR and other organizations.

cont. (The file is too big to show as a list)

dates protests for 10/28, 10/29, 10/30, 11/4 (my list updated to ones that are now available)

MAKE SURE TO DOUBLE CHECK ON WEBSITE FOR CORRECT DATES, TIMES, AND CITIES + LINKS (underlined cities have links to their info!!!!)

separated by major city and then date (some differences)

by major city

Washington, D.C. MARCH ON WASHINGTON 11/4 -- London, UK 10/28 -- Toronto, ON -- NEW YORK CITY 10/28 -- Austin, TX 10/29 -- San Francisco, CA 10/28 -- Portland, OR 10/28

by date

10/28 SATURDAY

Atlanta, GA -- Dallas, TX -- Champaign, IL -- Roseburg, OR -- London, UK -- NEW YORK CITY -- Orono, ME -- Portland, OR -- San Francisco, CA -- Vancouver, BC -- Roseburg, OR

10/29 SUNDAY

Newark, NJ -- Austin, TX 10/29 TEXAS CAPITOL -- Colorado Springs, CO -- Denver, CO -- Irvine, CA -- London, UK -- McAllen, TX -- Orlando, FL -- Ottawa, ON -- Salinas, CA -- San Antonio, TX --Scranton, PA -- Toronto, ON -- Worcester, MA

10/30 MONDAY

Baltimore, MD --Manhattan, KS -- Albany, NY

11/4 NEXT SATURDAY

Washington, D.C. MARCH ON WASHINGTON

Resources

https://actionnetwork.org/letters/tell-congress-ceasefire-now

https://www.kufiya.org/

https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2020/06/why-protests-work/613420/

boycott starbucks, mcdonald's, disney+ to support palestine

no buying day (economy free) nov. 18th worldwide boycott to free palestine

[eclecticopposition]

Another Six Sunday for you! We've got more Kalrin and Ohnyxx, this time in Situations. This one we entirely blame on Cal's last one, because the possibility of digging into their wonderful messy bodyswap had not occurred to us.

If you're out there reading about our guys with zero context we love you. Check out Cal's part of it here: ≠> OHNYXX

tagging @andromedasea @circuitousmoths @aurochsent and @grand-magnificent if you have not already done it. enjoy 😌

--

Oh god, they’re fucked.

You stare at Ohnyxx's body, your body, laying on the ground in the field. Your heart is pounding in your ears. You fucking told them not to get a concussion. You fucking told them not to get incapacitated. 

Well, you hadn’t said it in those exact words. Should you have been more specific? Was that not implied? It probably wouldn’t have mattered, given that you explicitly told them not to get a fucking concussion, and there is no way that is not the literal, actual first thing they did.

You feel cold and wrong. The tension in your body has ratcheted up, but it feels like a vice – it holds you in place, unnaturally still. The basic movements of life are smothered out. You try to suck in a breath and you don’t. You swallow but you don’t. Nothing happens. 

You dig your nails into your palms. That works. It doesn’t hurt right. It doesn’t snap you to attention like it’s supposed to. 

Well, that tracks. Of course it feels different to be an ambush predator, you think, trying not to linger on how much you feel like a prey animal.

Okay. Focus. Okay. 

The Phoenix lands. It is some distance away from them, at least the length of a solid sprint. Your heart sinks even as you put together the pieces of how this is going to go. It isn’t just going for them, which means it’s going to make some threat display, and then it’s going to make their life hell. 

At least it isn't just going to kill them. You’d be fucked if it had.

Not that you're any less fucked after they concussed themself plowing through your fucking porch railing. You cannot even begin to comprehend what kind of move that was supposed to be. Was it a jump? You mean, yeah, that sure was a jump. Undeniably half marks for technically executing it. But even you usually at least try to stick the landing. 

What the fuck were they even trying to do?

Seething with exasperation that does not properly cover your growing apprehension, you spin on one foot and you sprint for the kitchen. Your balance is off. Everything about being in their body is off. You can’t go out there and fight like you’re supposed to; you don’t know how to use it.

Your body will come back. This body will not. And you can’t do what you usually do here. You can’t afford to get them killed. 

Unfortunately, if they die without making it off that cliff, it is simply not going to matter.

Distraction. You need a distraction. You could try your room, but you think maybe you have one stashed in the top cupboards. He’s still there, you think, surely. You certainly don’t remember that fucker atoning for his sins.

You crawl onto the counters, swearing violently when you nearly slip off, and grab onto the side of your rightmost kitchen cabinet. It lurches a little, like you’ve yanked a nail out somewhere. That's probably fine. And then you prop yourself up on your knees, pulling open the doors and squinting inside. 

Empty chip bags, metal pan lids, safety scissors, unsafety scissors. A few bright plastic pencil holders of minutiae. You check the top shelf; it is a deadly labyrinth of mismatched Tupperware containers. You don't remember getting most of them. You suspect they may simply grow inside of unoccupied cabinets, like mold.

You don’t see him, however. 

Fuck, wrong cabinets. Did he move? No, you just forgot which ones you put him in. You just forgot. Probably.

You don’t think he can move. You’ve never seen him do it. But you can't rule it out.

You try the next one over. He's not there either. You don't try the third cabinet, because you know that's where you keep the dirt. That and the tent. You don't know why you picked it up on a whim; it’s not like you can go camping. The bird fucking hates tents. 

You consider the pros and cons of trying to use the tent instead. It could work, maybe. Send that fucker sailing and the reaction would probably be the same. But you suspect you’ll need the audio component – you can’t very well shout without giving yourself away – and one glance out the window tells you that it is not windy enough. Not for a sure bet. 

Besides, you don't want dirt on your stove right now. You don't open that cabinet for a reason.

You kick your toaster out of the outlet and crawl across the counter, hands and knees pounding in the grim march of stubborn perseverance. Kitchenware clatters to the floor around you. You are making a complete mess. It is a pleasantly new kind of mess – your dimensions are not the same, and your weight changes your speed. Different things are within reach at different times. It feels more like barreling than it does like scrambling. This is how you really figure out how to move, you think. You’ll have to experiment with how things go in a fat and stocky body.

You lurch up on your knees again and toss the cabinets open. Nothing on the bottom shelf. Grunting, you push yourself to your feet, sticking your head in through the doors, and–

There! 

There he is, a few doors down. His candy red fur, his glossy dead eyes. His gaping, mocking smile. The light does not touch him directly. Even just the sight of his face in the dark sends a chill up your spine. 

For a moment you waver. Some things not even you should trifle with. But – no, Ohnyxx needs you. Your house and life are on the line.

You grab that fucker by the throat and you drag him out from behind the oversize plates. They came with the house. You never use them. You squeeze his throat and you put a finger to his open mouth to preempt his evil whispers.

“DO NOT FUCK THIS UP FOR US,” you tell him. “I WILL PUT YOU BACK IN THERE. I AM NOT JOKING. YES, IT’S ME, I’M SURE YOU CAN TELL.”

He stares past you and does not make a sound.

“DO NOT FUCK THIS UP,” you repeat. “SERIOUSLY. I MAY KID ABOUT A GREAT MANY THINGS BUT I KID YOU NOT RIGHT NOW. I HAVE NO INTEREST IN YOUR TRICKS AND THE AMOUNT OF BULLFUCKERY I WILL TOLERATE COMES TO A GRAND TOTAL OF ZERO. THIS IS NOT A TRANSACTION AND YOU SHALL KEEP YOUR WRETCHED LITTLE MAW AS QUIET AS THE SHALLOW GRAVE I WOULD OTHERWISE PUT YOU IN, BECAUSE FAILING ALL ELSE, I WILL SEND YOU BACK INTO THE DEPTHS OF KITCHEN SOLITARY AND LEAVE YOU THERE, FOREVER UNABLE TO ROT. KAPICE?”

He does not say anything. You choose to take this as compliance rather than him biding his time, on account of how yours is running out. 

You pull your head back out of the cupboards and find that you are floating.

Just, casually. You had lifted off the counter to reach further back. Now you’re just suspended on nothing, with the small, furry body of a horror in your arms. 

Your eyes dart to him incredulously. There’s no way. There’s no way, right?

Wait, no. 

“OHNYXX WHAT THE FUCK,” you shout, staring down at your bent, unsupported knees. 

They don't answer, of course. On account of being busy getting their ass murdered out there. 

Okay. Okay! So Ohnyxx can fucking levitate. You wrack your brain for what this means for your options.

A crazed semblance of a terrible plan emerges from the dark and watery depths of your mind. You don't give yourself time to second guess it. Instead you fly to the window, scanning the field to see what is happening, and then kick your way over to the dislocated door.

You grab onto the sparse remains of your splintered porch railing, hard. They really did blow through that fucking thing at full force, you think, fondly. What a moron. Then again, could a moron execute something so beautiful? Could a moron birth such a catastrophic headbutt attack? Perhaps this is only the domain of a true moron. A moron is one who sees the gates of beauty and shoves with all their breathtaking, desperate might, and completely fails to register that it is a pull door. 

Still, that has to smart. Your body is going to have so many fucking splinters for the next minute and a half, or however long it takes them to die. You hate shrapnel more than anything else; sometimes the skin heals first and it gets stuck in you for hours. At least they don't have to deal with it long enough to process the fact that they're itchy. 

Wait, was this what they were going for? Did they forget that you can’t fly? 

Nevermind. They are a complete moron.

You take a deep breath. Ohnyxx is on their feet. The bird is chasing them, seeking to punish them for their wrongdoings. They’re doing better than you expected, all things considered. It looks almost comical from the outside. 

That won't last. They aren’t going to make it. They haven't done this before. You have no idea if the shock will incapacitate them if they get speared through. The first true perforation, you think, is when the fight always begins to end. Even though you can heal it away.

Unbidden, you glance down at the little red body in your hand. He hangs limp. Mercifully quiet. 

You never thought you would say goodbye to him. It might be a dereliction of duty to let him loose like this, you think. After all, if killing him were possible, you would have long since obliterated this giggly little fuck. Keeping him trapped on this mortal coil is all you can do. 

But it’s Ohnyxx. And it is also your house. Sacrifices must be made.

You bring him up to be eye level with your face. He stares out past you. 

“I WILL FORGIVE YOU IF YOU PULL THIS OFF,” you lie. 

You squeeze him tightly in your fingers. You obligingly scritch him under the arms. And then you bring your arm back, and you hurl the dark patron, TICKLE ME ELMO, high, high into the sky.

His horrible laughter begins belatedly, as it always does. He is far out of your reach by the time he begins to contort and wiggle and laugh. It is a hideous sound. It is his death warrant, you think, but he can’t resist his nature. He never could.

The bird’s head snaps around immediately. Its beak gapes in a silent howl of outrage. You can see it tracking him through the air, watching him sail up and up, his laugh echoing down faintly into the fields below. Its back and wing feathers are starting to bristle up in warning, the down of its long, serpentine neck lifting in a nearly imperceptible threat.

And then it explodes up after him, screaming and chasing him down.