#(i just think he will most definitely crash on ratio's work time)

[reichurine]

pretend ratio can summon his chair like in his trailer 💜💛💛💜

[strawbairicake]

various hsr trios and how they play uno! -various x reader (can be seen as platonic or romantic!)

warnings: none!

word count: 816

author’s note: i never post writing during the week, but enjoy haha! technically you guys would be a quartet if you played uno with them but like!! if we ignore that fact, i think life is still okay haha! hope you enjoy! <3

taglist: @cmiru, @unriding (Moze’s here, that’s why you’re tagged!), @m1ckeyb3rry (the trio of amphoreus is not here but thought you’d like this!), @vyyper, + @sheyfu! lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

The Astral Express (March 7th, Dan Heng, Trailblazer):

Dan Heng wins almost all the time, it’s almost infuriating. 

Trailblazer always has the most ridiculous cards and somehow still loses.

you and March team up to try to take down Dan Heng- it never works, unfortunately. 

you, March 7th, Dan Heng, and the Trailblazer sat in the express car, playing a very fun and not at all hostile game of uno. you and March sat next to each other, while the Trailblazer and Dan Heng sat across from you. honestly, if uno was a game of teamwork, you should be teaming up with Dan Heng, since he always wins. but do you ever learn your lesson? no! not one bit. you place a +4 card down on the pile, March adds another +4, and now the game reaches Dan Heng, who slightly smirks, much to your dismay. he somehow places another +4 on the pile and quietly goes “uno.” 

you all lose your minds. 

The Yaoqing trio (Feixiao, Jiaoqiu [non-blind for this scenario!], Moze):

you all take a shot everytime Feixiao wins a round, which thankfully isn’t very often. she may be a general, but she sucks at the game.

Moze, however, is an absolute god at the game. gets all the good cards, plays fair, and is a good sport. truly the only question is how he ended up here (Feixiao begged him with puppy eyes).

Jiaoqiu plays fair, has pretty ok cards, and sometimes wins. he’s not quite a god at the game, but he’s not AWFUL like Feixiao. 

you sat next to Jiaoqiu, while Feixiao and Moze sat across from you both. for the most part, the game is very calm, and might be your last game given how droopy your eyes are getting. Jiaoqiu has his cards in one hand (you can’t see them, stingy) and he’s got his other arm around your waist and rubbing shapes into your side. god you could fall asleep if it weren’t for the sound of-

“uno!” Feixiao just about hollers, waking you out of your droopy state. Moze rolls his eyes but plays a reverse, which makes Feixiao draw a few cards and you hear her mutter “mean” under her breath. Jiaoqiu chuckles at how you tensed up previously. hopefully this game won’t last much longer. 

Divergent/Simulated Universe trio (The Herta, Ruan Mei, Screwllum): 

can see Ruan Mei winning these types of games unintentionally. 

Herta has a 50/50 shot of winning. if she doesn’t win, she takes a breather where she goes and rages (very funnily, might you add, you record her crash outs).

Screwllum doesn’t see the appeal of the game but if the three of you ask nicely, he always sits and plays with you all. 

you’re sitting next to Ruan Mei and listening to Herta go on and on about how she’s going to win. Screwllum watches the chaos unfold between the four of you. Ruan Mei sips her tea and nudges you to play. you had zoned out briefly so you were thankful for the nudge.

“uno!” you said excitedly. 

“oh mother f-“ Herta started before Screwllum covered her mouth. Ruan Mei sighed.

“I would appreciate no foul language in the presence of (name), madame Herta.” Screwllum said after uncovering her mouth. 

“Oh i’ll show you foul language-“ 

Herta then proceeded to crash out over uno for the next twenty minutes, putting the game on hold. You and Ruan Mei sipped your tea and messaged each other in the meantime. 

Interastral Peace Corporation (Aventurine, Topaz feat. Numby, Dr. Ratio): 

I can definitely see Aventurine being awful at uno, if his luck comes from gambling, then surely his luck is ass at something he (for the most part) cannot gamble. 

Topaz probably kicks ass at uno, she can get very competitive. 

Ratio pretends not to care about the game, but if you in particular ask him to play with you and the crew, he scoffs before following you to play. 

You and Topaz sat next to each other, mostly because Numby wanted to say hello to you. Numby sat on your lap as you watched Aventurine scramble for cards from the deck. Topaz is laughing, almost hysterically, at the amount of cards he’s collected. Dr. Ratio looks rather uninterested, but you know he’s most likely going to win. Aventurine finally draws a green card and smacks it down on the pile. You and Aventurine watch (in horror, for Aventurine) as Veritas puts a green reverse on the pile of cards and goes, “uno”. 

“Doctor, are you fucking kidding me?” 

Topaz wheezes and laughs even more hysterically at the sight in front of her. you laugh and watch Aventurine draw a few more cards before playing. you all came to a sudden realization: this game is NOT ending soon. something you all have come to know and enjoy, for the most part.

©2025 strawbairicake. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

[sacredbbl]

Fraternity Fever

Jake X reader

Tw: swearing; drunkenness , alcohol, marijuana

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Chapter One

Y/N POV

It all started on a crispy autumn afternoon. You had just transferred to the University of Michigan this year from a small community college in your town. It was weird being a junior, but still feeling like a freshman. Your rock had been Jayden; Jayden was not only your roommate but one of your only friends here. As you walked back from your last class of the day, all you could think about was how excited you were to be going back to your dorm. You could finally finish the book you had been trying to read for weeks. You scanned your ID at the door and crashed into your bed. Just then, you saw Jayden’s face . She was waiting for you to come back.

“Y/N what are you doing tonight?”, dog earring your book to keep your page .

“ I am planning on finishing this book, how about you?” Jayden then jumped onto your bed, her curls bouncing as she got up.

”Y/N don’t be lame, It’s a Friday night, let’s go to Sigma Chi Rho’s party!” She stood up and barreled towards your closet. Jayden was beautiful . Her curly brown hair went down to the small of her back and sat perfectly on her sun kissed skin, Her gorgeous green eyes stared into your closet.

“I don’t know anyone, why would I go?”

“Sigma Chi Ro’s are super cool. I know the president, it will be super fun Y/N! If you hate it you can always leave.” She gave you those puppy dog eyes that she knew you could not say no.

“Fine, but you have to pick out my outfit.” You sighed.

She squealed with excitement. She handed you a black dress that fit you in all the best ways. After twenty minutes of getting ready you decided to take a courage shot and start walking to the sigma house. The air was crisp as you walked the ten minutes to the party. As you got closer, the music became clearer and then you could hear yelling.

“Dude you can’t come in, you are going to kill the ratio!” Say a skinny boy with long hair . Jayden told you he was a pledge who was working at the door tonight. He seemed a little buzzed, and angry. He was talking to a freshman boy whose date already went in.

“What the fuck man, I brought a girl!”

“ You are not going to be fucking let in! You know the rules, if you are not a brother you need at least three girls to get in.”

The guy he was fighting with angrily leaves.

Suddenly we were the next people in line.

“Hey Sam what’s up?”Jayden threw her arms around his shoulders in an embrace.

“Nothing much, Jayden, should be fun tonight, tell me if you run into Danny; That fucker is working door tonight and I am not doing push ups because of him.” He said with a chuckle.

“Sure will!” She replied as she grabbed your hand and pulled you through the doorway. As you walked through the door, you made eye contact with Sam, mouthing a thanks. Then you were whisked away into the bustling crowd.

Jake POV

Another morning. The sun had only risen by the time that you had managed to drag yourself out of the bed. The start of the semester once more - as usual, the entire college would be busy tonight, parties having been organized by essentially every group, every society, but most importantly, every frat. All of you had spent weeks planning this one - games were one of the main things that brought everyone to the house, surprisingly. You never spent the majority of my time playing the games - You always had.. other things to attend to. You had found yourself, tonight, in charge of the music. Playlists had been passed around, but you couldn’t seem to find one that fit right, until an old one passed your screen.

The house was busy already - people hurrying around, trying to hang decorations - you didn’t fully understand it, nobody would be spending their night judging us based on the decorations, and the streamers definitely weren’t the main aspect on everybody's lips for weeks afterwards. Like the others, you found yourself skipping the lectures for the day - it was to be expected.

You had been to the store earlier in the day, bulk-buying anything that could have possibly been needed. Forcing the bottles into the cupboard, just about big enough to fit everything, you turned to Josh once everything had been put away - “Everything’s sorted, I think. Who’s coming?” He stared back at you for a moment, before a soft chuckle left his lips “It’s the first day of senior year - literally everyone that we know. Probably the usual suspects - definitely some juniors” he finished with a wink. To say that you had a reputation would be an understatement. You sighed in return, shoving him slightly before making your way back upstairs. Searching the wardrobe, you found yourself running your hands through your hair. Something felt different.

The usual outfit won once again - black jeans and an old band shirt. Opening the dresser drawers, you retrieved the usual necklaces and rings, pulling them on quickly. It was still relatively early, but people were already arriving, making their way into the house, before quickly to the kitchen. Being a senior, it was your job to keep an eye on everyone. Many a night had been ruined by people drinking too much and inevitably fighting. Josh had been dressed for hours, meticulously planning his outfit as he always did. Shooting him a nod as the house began to fill, the two of us got to work. The music was working well already - with people dancing throughout the whole house. You hadn’t expected it to get so busy so quickly.

Danny and Sam had arrived late, as usual. It was odd having somebody that you grew up with being a new pledge, it felt like getting to know them all over again. The four of you had become even closer than before, spending essentially every living moment together - there wasn’t a single thing that happened in any of your lives that the others didn’t know about.

You watched Sam and Danny as they were talking to people, seeing a commotion starting at the door. A soft sigh left your lips as you began to make your way over. Before you could reach the door, Josh gently pushed you out of the way - as president, he was usually the one who would deal with this sort of thing.

You turned on your heel, seeing the crowds of people move like a wave, before making your way back into your room - your safe haven. Pulling a small bag from your dresser, your fingers wrapped around the joint that had been rolled the night before. You moved out onto the balcony, leaning against the railing as you lit the joint between your lips.

A smile found its way onto your lips as you exhaled, looking up at the stars that adorned the night sky. Your hand made its way into your pocket, pulling your phone from it. As you opened it, you found yourself appreciating the quiet - you could feel the vibrations of the bass underneath your feet, and the cold breeze running through your hair. Scrolling through the usual social media, you wound up watching some of the old frat videos from when you were all younger - josh doing his campaigning for president, everybody had seemed completely enamored with him. It was something that you felt a pang of jealousy for - his ability to talk. Whenever he would begin, you loved to watch people’s reactions, seeming to pause whatever they were doing just to listen to him. You, on the other hand, were much quieter - you liked to keep yourself to yourself.

Y/N POV

As Jayden pulled you through the crowd you realized that you recognized a lot of the faces in the crowd from different classes. She then stopped, and you found yourself at the keg. You grabbed a red solo cup and started filling it up with the cheap beer but anything is good as long as you are drunk. She started talking to the boy next to her. He had a warm smile and big, brown eyes. Suddenly he was facing you.

“Hey, I’m Josh let me know if any of these boys bother you. It is my responsibility for you to have fun. After all, I am the president.” As soon as he finished his sentence his attention turned to another pledge

“Danny what the fuck are you doing in here ?” Josh hurried away. You turned back around to find Jayden but she had disappeared. Typical Jayden. You left the keg and walked around the party, anxiously looking for her familiar face. You took the last sip of your beer and grabbed another drink - this time, the jungle juice. You took a sip and gagged. “God that is strong”.Perfect you thought to yourself, as you moved your way through the crowd to find Jayden. Finally after a couple more drinks you found her. She was on a ratty old couch that had certainly seen better days, basically swallowing the blonde whose lap she was on.

Deciding not to interrupt, you tried to find the bathroom.As you stumbled through the crowded house.You felt the alcohol kick in . You stumbled through the bustling hallway, bumping into partiers , You stumbled up the stairs, carefully making sure that you didn't spill any of your alcohol . Once you got to the top, you glided your hand along the wall as you walked down the hallway. You decided to open the last door on the left . As soon as you walked in, you were hit with the scent of marijuana . As your eyes focused you realized you were not in the bathroom.

Josh pov

As you made your way away from the door, seeing that the guy had walked off, seemingly frustrated, you began to make your way through the crowd. You had already decided to not drink as much as you usually would, taking the time to introduce yourself to some of the newer pledges, and the freshmen that had made their way in. An old friend caught your eye - Jayden.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, making your way over to her. As the two of you caught up, you realized that she had brought a friend. Introducing yourself, you did your utmost to make sure that she felt welcome. Before you could continue the conversation - intending to ask about what she was studying, where she was from - something caught your eye. Danny. Stood in a group of juniors, seemingly trying to show off.

”Danny what the fuck are you doing in here?” You began, furrowing your eyebrows. You made your apologies to the girls, before moving towards him “You’re door!”

He seemed to huff at you as he heard you speak, before nodding his head, quickly making his way back to the door, when Sam stood, seemingly trying to deal with someone who was already way too drunk to be here.

As you continued through the house, you filled your cup with a soft drink, doing your best to watch over the heads as everybody moved around.

“Where the fuck is Jake?” You grumble, despite knowing that he had done what he always did - snuck off with somebody. It wasn’t rare that you’d check his bedroom throughout the party, and find him in there with any amount of girls. Each time that you would check, it would be someone different. He never seemed embarrassed when you walked in, if anything, he was proud of himself. Ever since he had joined the frat, the same time that you did, he had built up a reputation for himself - an absolute womanizer. You could count on one hand the amount of girls in the college that he hadn’t slept with at this point. He didn’t seem to mind the reputation, though - it was something that he relished in. It was easy for him, one conversation and the deal seemed to be done. Watching the crowd, your eyes found their way to the door, where Danny and Sam stood, ushering people in. In all honesty, they weren’t the best at keeping the ratio, but they did seem to try their hardest.

Only a small bit later, you could tell that the majority of people were truly feeling the effects of the night - stumbling in and out of the bathroom, talking to people that they had never spoken to before. You found it fun - seeing how people would change when there was alcohol involved.

Jake POV

Having made your way to the chair on the balcony, you noticed the music only getting louder. Grabbing the glass that sat on the floor, you raised it to your lips, allowing the cold water to fill your mouth. Placing the glass down once again, you reached for the lighter on the table. A small sigh left your lips, in all honesty, you didn’t really care about what was going on downstairs, you knew that Josh knew how to handle it. There was nobody new, nobody that you hadn’t already spent an evening with. You didn’t care for any of them, it was nothing but fun for you, just something that you did to pass the time. As the flame danced around the tip of the joint, illuminating your face, you inhaled, the smoke filling your lungs.

It was then that your bedroom door opening caught your attention. Confused for a moment, you stood up, trying to make out the figure. As soon as your eyes adjusted, you realized that, although you didn’t recognise the girl, she was definitely at the party, having essentially fallen through the door.

”Can I help you?” You called, your voice filled with annoyance. You had come up here for a peaceful night, and yet now there’s a stranger standing in the middle of your room. Waiting for her to speak, you pulled open the balcony door, crossing your arms as you watched her. “I asked you a question.” You speak, raising an eyebrow.

“Where am I?” She chokes out while giggling .

As she replied, you couldn’t help the soft chuckle that left your lips - God.. her laugh.

“You’re in my bedroom.”

“Why am I in your bedroom?” she giggled, her words slurred together.

You could feel yourself softening for a moment as she giggled again. Regaining your composure, still leaning in the doorway, you took a moment to reply. “That’s not something that I can answer. You just showed up.”

As you answered, you watched her face turn as white as paper. You knew that the alcohol had gotten to her as she fell to the ground and puked all over herself and your floor.

“Oh my fucking God.” You spoke, considering for a moment the possibility of calling Josh. Staring down at her, you move towards the bathroom, grabbing a towel for her. Coming back into the room, you placed it down beside her, before reluctantly reaching your hand out for her to grab. You didn’t realize it, but she was whimpering .

“I’m sooo sorry” she cried .

You sighed as you watched her, pulling her up from the ground. Unconsciously placing a hand around her waist, you lead her to the bed, allowing her to sit. You paused, and looked at her for a moment - unsure of what exactly you were supposed to do, you just knew that she couldn’t stay in her clothes. You walked to your dresser and grabbed an old tee shirt you didn’t mind losing and an old pair of sweats. “Arms up” you spoke, as you slowly tried to help her change making sure you don't show your frustration. You took the dress that she had came in, throwing it onto the bathroom floor, before looking into the mirror, “What the fuck are you doing?” You whispered, to nobody in particular. Looking back to the bed, you saw that she was still sat there, clearly feeling sorry for herself. You hoped harder than you ever had before that nobody would walk into the room.

Through tears, she spoke again - “I’m so sorry, I’m drunk ……where’s Jayden”

Continuing to look at her, you crossed your arms once more. “Yeah, I noticed.” You knew Jayden - a friend of Josh’s. “Do you want me to go get her?” You hummed, beginning to make your way to the door, looking back at her.

“No, she is busy,” she whispered. You looked at her dumbfounded, unable to understand why she had been left alone in such a state.

“What the fuck do you mean busy?”

“She is probably hooking up with someone right now!” She slurred

You found yourself grumbling as she spoke, “Yeah, okay, sure” you replied, before making your way to the wall across from her. You weren’t too sure what to do with her, but knew that you couldn’t be seen leaving with her. You knew you had a reputation but this would make it even worse.

“Well guess you are taking my bed tonight” You sigh as you laid her on her side. You pulled her shoes from her feet, laying them beside the bed, before sitting onto the couch that lived in the corner of your room. You debated whether to go out into the party to find Josh to see if he could deal with this, but you knew he had a lot to deal with, especially since the pledges were fucking up their jobs - you could handle this. You had been that drunk before. You could help a drunk girl for once without anything happening. Though you had never been sober before while taking care of a drunk girl.

You found yourself lighting the joint once more as you lay back onto the couch, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling. This hadn’t been how you expected the night to go. Sure, you had ended parties with a girl in your bed before, but not like this, this was different. She was different.

[gnnhildr]

nanami couldn’t remember what he was doing here, nor could he figure where he was headed. hollow footsteps echoing against the cold floor, he couldn’t help but contemplate the very reasoning he was walking down these ghostly halls.

he was a high-grade shaman, first in fact. an entire life of following the regulations to the t, never going overboard to exert himself, yet putting in more than the minimum. he was the adult of adults, what more was there? had he been missing something? was he incomplete?

nanami was currently uncertainty at its finest.

eventually, the stairs ran out and he was faced with a mob of curses, all mutated beyond the state of repair, yet to him, all of their faces seemed to mold the same, like a broken record on repeat. something ached on his left side, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

not that he cared enough to ponder it too long. nanami paused, looking up at the dull ceiling. there was a soft pounding in his head, probably resonating from the muscle in his chest he didn’t think was still there. part of him was hot, part of him was cold. had he always been this indecisive?

“malaysia . . .” nanami would picture it perfectly. a small house on the beach, all quiet and secluded. he’d be able to lounge by the shore, gentle crashing of waves lulling him to relaxation as he went through all the books he never got to read. time was indebted to him and he had every intention of settling.

but most of all, nanami pictured you to be the most beautiful. you’d be wearing a simple romper, short, your hair adorned with its usual clip. you’d definitely insist on the two fo you reading a book together, his lips quirking at an almost smile at the thought of him pretending to be against it (he secretly enjoyed it). the shaman made a mental note to tell you that later.

“yeah, malaysia . . .” he remembered when he first brought up the idea, not particularly serious. you had the brightest look on your face, gorgeous complexion stunning nanami speechless and catching him off-guard. “kuantan would be nice.”

oh what he’d do to see that look just once more.

the wooded handle of his blade especially heavy in his hand, the weight seeming to just now occur to him. the cursed spirits were starting to close in and he let them; he simply did not care. nanami was tired. very tired. it seemed that this would be the end, fruitless and wasted on his part.

i’ve done enough, haven’t i?

yet, in that split second of time he had left before the first cursed spirit closed in, it had occurred to him that he had made a promise to the only one he cherished. as if on reflex, nanami was quick to ready his blade, slicing through the neck of the cursed spirit at blinding speed, the ratio hit perfectly and decapitating in sickening scarlet.

you were expecting him home and he intended to make sure you never at dinner alone ever again.

the pain no longer mattered, the numbness not even a concern. he worked quickly, taking down all of the spirits in his wake before they could land a single hit on him. if nanami had tried to be anything in his life, it was a man of his word.

but perhaps that was his mistake.

suddenly, everything was still, all the other spirits forgotten as the hand came in contact to his chest with a gentle tap. the world stilled for a moment, that rushing heartbeat slowing to a gentle, rhythmic thud, a bittersweet comfort to his racing mind.

everything in his life happened in that one moment. sweet rining bells and the soft chiming of a voice intertwined with the beating. he saw you clad in all white, your hair flowing easy with the breeze. two fingers dancing in the distance, nanami felt a warmth in his heart when he noticed the golden glint of matching bands on their laced fingers.

“itadori.” the shaman perked up slightly at the mention of the student’s name, the sound of running footsteps coming to halt following shortly. he heard his name being called, the voice a bit of a distance away, urgent nevertheless.

perhaps nanami’s schedule was a little more complicated than he thought, but no matter, you would understand. you always did. turning to the first year, his gaze softened, the heartbeat paralleled by the beautiful laughter of your voice. “itadori . . .”

“you’ve got it from here.”

your smile was the only thing on his mind when he heard the flatline.

perhaps now he could rest.

"well-intended rest", ft. nanami kento

[merakiui]

Ok concept Time

(If you think this is too much don’t post this I understand!)

Cw drugging, implied non con, loss of virginity, SCARAMOCHE BEING A JERK

You are one of the Liyue Qixing who oversees all the banks in Liyue. Now that Rex Lapis had stopped minting the coins a new pile of responsibility had fallsed on to your shoulders. What’s frustrating is that the rest of the Qixing doesn’t want to help and you think that is because Ningguang told them not to. You and her butthead enough on passing of laws. (You want a free market while she wants more governmental regulation)

After recieving another “proposal” from Ningguang you are infuriated. To think she has the audacity to order you around? Absurd. When you seek to take a break from work in a little tea shop you found an adorable young man trying to stike up a conversation.

You know he is a Fatui from the emblem on his clothing, but you do not make it that big of a deal. The northland bank abides the rules of Liyue and brings gold to the market. Of course you agree with Ningguang that they should be treated with caution, but you never viewed them as enemies.

Well, you had to admit that it’s good to let your pent up anger out. Everyone in Liyue seems to worship Ningguang as if she is their archon now, hard to find someone who would criticize her these days.

You are careful to not spill too much, just minor things, but then your mind begins to spin and blur, you did not brought your attendants with you.

That look of horror on your face in the morning was worth countless mora to Scaramouche. Carassing your cheeks gently, he whispered his conditions of keeping this under wraps.

Marry him, so the people of Liyue would not know one of their respectable Qixing had lost her virginity to a Fatui Harbinger.

He doesn’t need to tell you what he did. You’re smart enough to figure that out.

To have one who has so much authority over others now to him makes his ego implode in geometric ratio.

(I love Ningguang I just need an opening hhhhhh)

-wonderful anon

WONDERFUL ANON, I DEMAND A COLLABORATION OTL jk jk ...unless? 👀

But whoaaa that is such a great concept! 10/10! The absolute power trip the Harbingers would get out of taking your virginity. Like,, waaahhh! Scaramouche is definitely at the top of the list for ‘jerk who lives for the virginity-claiming power trip.’ And the forced marriage too?! AAAHH WOWOWOW SCARA WOULD SO DO THAT! Please do not hesitate to bless us with more of your galaxy ideas!!!! 

Okay, ahem. Let me add my thoughts onto this amazing concept.

cw: nsfw, implied non-con, mentions of forced marriage, yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied drug usage

You can’t believe you fell for his false charm. More importantly, you can’t believe you didn’t bring your attendants with you. How could you act so foolishly? Even though you had taken care to divulge only minor details about yourself, such as your name and your preferred flavor of tea, it didn’t mean anything to him. He was content to listen and watch while you talked and sipped at your tea, quietly plotting all sorts of maddening things.

It’s very odd when you wake up in a plush bed with him at your side. All sorts of emotions and feelings crash into your just-barely awake self. You’re confused and worried, fearing for your own safety because you just can’t remember what happened the night prior. Your memory only goes back to the tea shop and Scaramouche with his opulent attire and charming grin. And yet now all forms of clothing have been shed and you’re so exposed. It’s more frightening than it is embarrassing, and when he smirks at your horrified expression it all crashes down on you at once.

The reason you’re so groggy and sore: drugs and sex. Of course. That has to be the only explanation for why you feel so miserable, both inside and out. And you’re absolutely speechless as he lays out the conditions, all confidence and pride, as if he didn’t just take something precious from you. Something that you were hoping to give to an actual lover and not some meddling Fatui scumbag.

“Marry you?” You repeat it without meaning to, but it still stuns you all the same. “You can’t be serious.”

“You heard me once, did you not?” His face is incredibly close to yours and you feel the uncanny need to hide under the covers. You surmise that even the most devout of prayers to Rex Lapis won’t be heard over the terrifying pound of your heart. “You shall be engaged to me and we’ll see to it that this little...secret of ours is kept under wraps. Surely that’s fair?”

“Hardly! You...” Your hands come up to cover your face and you’re caught between the urge to suffocate him in the linens or to cry rivers of tears. “You drugged me! And you... My—“

“Was it that special?” 

It was, you want to say, but you refuse to admit it. If you broke down in front of him, it would negate the strength you’re so desperately trying to uphold.

“No... But you can’t just drug someone and then have your way with them! And you can’t force them into marriage either. That’s the definition of insane.”

You feel sick and violated, pinned to a cork board like a deceased butterfly under his serious stare. And then he laughs. His lips turn upward in a sick smile and this man laughs. You’re not amused when you lower your hands to fix him with a glower, hoping he can read through your narrowed eyes and take the hint.

“Well, I did just that,” he finally says after he’s regained his composure, thin fingers grasping your chin. Your skin prickles at his deceitfully soft touch. “I suppose that, by your standards, I would be insane. Is that true?”

You’re too scared to agree and you have no idea what to do now. 

------

WOW OKAY SO!!! This is such a good concept. I just had to write a small snippet to contribute! I also had an idea concerning Ningguang! Even though the two of you disagree and don’t often get along because of your beliefs, she doesn’t think you’re a bad person. So she’s somewhat concerned when she learns that you don’t return to work after your break, and she becomes alarmed when all of your attendants claim to have no idea as to where you could’ve gone. She might not be your best friend, but you’re still one of the Liyue Qixing. Ningguang can’t just ignore it when someone with such an important role suddenly disappears.

Unfortunately, she has no idea where to start looking and the case of your disappearance is most likely handed off to someone who doesn’t exactly care that much. Either way, you’re still stuck with Scaramouche, who will make sure to limit your freedom, and as time ticks away so does your hope of escaping him. You can already hear the nightmarish chime of a forced wedding ceremony.

As for a beginning to this lovely scenario, perhaps the reader is frustrated because of all of the extra work being piled onto their schedule, and so it begins with them angrily heading out for some much-needed air, as you mentioned in the start of your concept. They decide to relax at a tea shop and that’s where they meet Scarymoose Scaramouche. >:) Perhaps he had some of his underlings stalk them and report back to him with the information, which is how he seems to know of your movements and where to find you. 

[a-sirens-melody]

Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.

[whatudottu]

So I’m sure y’all (ben 10 fans specifically) know about the episode Inspector 13? And how Gwen couldn’t used her mana like she usually does?

Yeah, those are my thoughts today and I’m gonna talk about ‘em.

Let’s get this out of the way first, pure full Anodites will not have the same trouble that Gwen has, regardless of form. Basic reason here same as normal, they’re pure mana and Gwen is a fleshy human with a spark, so inherently there’s already a difference in the flow of mana.

But are other species capable of magic and mana manipulation?

Heck yeah!

Knowing what we’ve seen with Anodites already, sans Gwen of course, they’re the... uh... hmm let’s say playboys of the universe. Much in the same way that humans can’t keep it in their pants, Anodites don’t have pants in the first place and would definitely proliferate with life spanning galaxies. And just like with humans, there is a chance that any hybrid child of an Anodite can have the spark.

But does that mean that Gwen can use mana as each of the aliens she turns into?

Heck no!

At least not on first try.

Now let me explain. Humans have a filter on their flow of mana, one which Anodites don’t possess, but other species have that same filter. Why? Well, it’s their DNA of course, it’s what separates them from the pure energy beings of Anodites, the unfiltered raw flow of mana. This filter is there because while Anodites are filled with mana, a hybrid with a spark produces their own unique life energy that interacts and mingles with the flow of their mana.

But what does that mean for Gwen?

Given that the spark is not... uh... entirely genetic (there’s a need for an Anodite SOMEWHERE in the bloodline for the spark, but it doesn’t come up in DNA), it should exist through each transformation. But the issue here is that, while the spark stays the same, the filter wildly changes.

Gwen, as herself, is athletic and light on her feet, so her mana floats, twists and turns, and when solid, is akin to glass. But as Diamondhead, suddenly there’s more weight and less dexterity. There’s a difference that opens a new set of rules for Gwen that she’s never had to deal with, and just like at the start of her magic career, things don’t work exactly as they should.

I’m done with the whole analysis side of this thought, but the main reason why this is on my mind is because... well... I didn’t like how the show handled the differences in mana manipulation. It’s maybe a sneaky little episode rewrite, and maybe a little more interesting version of the ‘getting-used-to-another-person’s-powers’ trope... which I’m pretty sure is a thing. I don’t know I’ve seen it before a few times so whatever.

ANYWAY! Moving on to what I would’ve like to have happened, let’s go in order of Gwen’s transformations.

As stated (and is obvious), Petrosapiens aren’t very known for their light weight and dexterity, so one’s magic would reflect this. How this will affect their mana would turn the free flowing looseness of floating mana into physics based materialisation. But what makes this different to a Petrosapien’s natural crystalkinesis?

Let’s demonstrate with Diamondhead.

A falling Gwen would realise quick that her attempts at making platforms would fail, seeing them fall alongside her. However, producing these solid objects took nothing away from her physical levels of energy, meaning Diamondhead wasn’t growing fatigued unlike with typical crystalkinesis. Gwen would have the ability to form as much ‘crystals’ as she wants in order to keep her from crashing too heavily into the ground.

This use of mana is more so built upon traps, because they last a lot longer and barely need concentration to work. Used as a replacement for crystalkinesis, a Petrosapien ain’t gonna get very far, because these ‘traps’ work on everyone even if they can disperse the constructs. No, it’s better to stay away from the constructs because they amplify sonic waves (the mana vibrates as if like a tuning fork) and can create shatter explosions if struck the right way. For the latter, if y’all have seen the dude pressure plating a diamond, it’s like that.

Now, let’s talk about the second alien Gwen transforms into, Clockwork!

Chronosapiens are a little more robotic than Humans and Petrosapiens, especially Anodites, so their filter of mana is a lot larger. It is the fact that they are alive in the first place that let’s them use magic at all, but their mana capabilities are extremely limited. It’s like being trapped in a metal suit, where it’s hard to allow the internal spark to manipulate the external environment. But what if one doesn’t use external magic?

Clockwork can work like this.

Gwen may not manage to bypass the filter and create mana constructs, or even a flowing tendril, but she can find ways for her modified magic to work. Clockwork keeps the spark internally, so why not help that along with less offensive and defensive skills, and instead more utility casting. What does this mean? Flight, babes! But instead of the traditional sort of flight, Gwen finds that she can ‘walk on frozen time’ and ‘slip through the seems’.

Okay maybe that sounds a little too much like the Esoterica power set, but it’s not like seeing a fourth dimension and accessing the inaccessible. It may appear to be the same, but just like how people may perceive Clockwork to have super speed, even though he’s just slowed time for everyone else, it’s just a matter of perspective. But in general, learning to use mana outwardly would need more time than Gwen had.

Moving on to alien number 3, we have Humungousaur.

Now, in terms of filters, Vaxasaurians have a little more access to mana manipulation than Petrosapiens and especially Chronosapiens, but they have a whole lot of life energy due to their size, which has an effect on their spark. While the dexterity of their magic can be comparable to Human’s manipulation, the strength of it is quite limited, so while a Vaxasaurian may be dependent on their physical bodies for attack and defence, magic is just a bonus action.

So how would Humungousaur use magic instead?

Well, while Gwen would engage in a good old round of fisticuffs, she can use mana like a lasso/whip to trip opponents and yank them this way and that. And by ‘this way’ I mean directly into her punch, like you’re the ball of a paddle-board. It’s definitely more of an assistance type of magic, and it’s definitely not strong enough to support the weight of Humungousaur, but Gwen can control the battlefield by controlling the stability of the enemy.

Think hunting and gathering, this is where a Vaxasaurian’s magic thrives, where it helps with restraining and retrieval rather than attack and defence, they’ve already got THAT down. Prime Vaxasaurians, with their size increase, would lose the use of their mana when at max height, but Reboot Vaxasaurians can emphasise their tail shockwave with magic to make it even more deadly.

Up next is Upchuck, and boy is this an easy one.

Gourmands already have a natural relationship between themselves and energy, so someone with the spark can super enhance their energy bile. To the point where it’s almost unnecessary to actually eat anything to get at least some sort of fire power. Of course, with a Gourmand’s small squishy body, they are perfectly capable of throwing up defences (I swear that pun was an accident), but who needs defences when you’ve got a whole arsenal of explosive mana.

But there’s a little issue with Upchuck that Gwen has to get over.

The problem? Gwen’s a little self-conscious about a Gourmand’s abilities. Mana is the flow of life energy, so if the flow is restrained by embarrassment, it doesn’t act at its full potential. Upchuck can certainly try to use magic as a crutch to avoid needing to eat and spit her way in, but the free flowing stream cutting off is inhibiting the strength of her defence too.

SO! When Gwen finally caves and eats some metal, there’s enough power to blast a hole into the techadon factory big enough to get inside with time to spare. Aside from enhancing the blasting power of a Gourmand’s natural energy, the use of mana manipulation can change the ‘weaponry’ of the attack, which can turn into a gassy smokescreen (burp) and a sticky ball (loogie) to name a few. A Gourmand’s best strength is confidence, so Gwen would need to adapt her mana the same way.

And last but not least, we have Rath stepping up to the plate.

Now, Appoplexians are... rather straight forward and fight tooth and claw rather than strategically. They have a similar mana to life energy filter ratio to Humans, but that doesn’t mean that they’re just as magic friendly. Mana manipulation typically requires coherent thought other than the urge to beat someone up.

But Rath can use magic, and here’s how Gwen works it.

Cutting to the chase, there’s no range mana attacks, at all. For one thing, Rath would find it cowardly, another being that unlike ripping out a turret and throwing it at something else, there’s not enough brutal violence. And utility magic is not even considered. That needs some planning, and the only plan Rath has going into the fight is to WIN! And Gwen is not immune to the urge for violence.

So what happens instead, Gwen would accentuate a punch, slash or block with the extra kick of mana. Enemy fist approaching at 5 o’clock, t-minus 2 seconds? Mana armour. The techadon warrior is regenerating a little too fast for liking? Mana blade! Inspector 13 is being an annoying little techadon engineer with his constant downplay of their abilities? MANA PUNCH!

And after all that, Gwen gets to be in her own skin again. Some of the abilities she learnt that day don’t translate to her Human form. She can’t form crystal traps, she can’t slip between the seams of time, she can’t modify the properties of her mana. But some of the techniques she learnt can be adapted into her regular fighting. She can manipulate the battle field, she can construct armour on the fly.

But most importantly, she can see the differences of life energy, and how they effect magic use. Seeing a range of different mana manipulation, Gwen has unlocked a more open perspective on magic and can learn so much more, her expectations of Human magic pried open wide.

I think THAT would’ve been neat.

But instead we got same face syndrome not to rag on the episode haha.

[immortal-dreamer-aes]

I have an obsession with gemstones and military men lets do this

Grif: orange calcite, tries eating plants, plays dead when lunarians arrive, has pieces of almadine to replace lost pieces

Simmons: Almadine Garnet “almadine”, statistics of battles nerd, good at running, replacement arm made from silver alloy (gave up pieces for orange calcite)

Sarge: red jasper “jasp”, laughs during battles, can and will abandon partners to fight lunarians, most likely to be broken by choice, wants a bigger sword than anyone else

Donut: pink diamond, missing right eye but didn’t ask for a replacement, likes helping red beryl with fashion, violently caring to the flowers outside the school, throws their sword a lot

Lopez: Cassiterite, never fully learned how to speak, loses their head a lot, responsible for architecture and weapon repair, sick of everyone’s shit, understands admirabillis but no one believes them

Doc: Alexandrite (violet for doc, red for o’malley), never leaves the school, helps organize medical supplies, gets picked on a lot or just ignored, wants literally one day of rest

Church: Lazulite, breaks a lot, specifically knows what memories are stored where, already been broken a lot but reassembled, lost for a while before returning as a lunarian (ch. 95)

Tucker: Aquamarine, probably looks at some lunarian illustrations and thinks, “they’re hot,” spends too much time arranging their hair, has an adopted admirabillis (junior), has the accidental highest number of gem to lunarians casualty ratio

Caboose: Blue Diamond, talks to every plant and animal along patrol, brings them all home and takes care of them, like seriously their room is a lot of dirt and bugs with birds sitting at the window, scratches their finish a lot, wants a shiro in its full form

Tex: Bort Diamond, has purposely broken other gems if dared, one scratch=death to every living thing in a ten mile radius, only pieces left after most fell into the ocean

Sister: honey calcite, hates Aquamarine’s guts, regales a lot with orange calcite, stands by the chord shore a lot while bored, would also fuck a lunarian or moon gem (diopside)

—————————

Carolina: blue topaz, never leaves a fight with a scratch, judges based on hardness, volunteers for winter shifts, takes after bort but hates them being mentioned, stays with lunarian lazulite

Wash: Celestine, winter gem, formerly super awkward but became battle hardened after losing several partners, trains the younger houseki, everyone loves them

York: citrine, extra with their sword techniques, likes annoying Celestine, former partner of blue topaz, missing left eye (replaced with pearl)

North/South: amethyst twin crystals (slight pigment difference), both sneak out at night, north tries talking to animals and holding them, south tends to scare them away, eventually split apart and get taken to the moon separately

Maine: howlite, definitive proof that low hardness does not mean weakness, og Celestine partner, cassiterite level of mute, never hesitates to take an arrow or spear for others, sleepwalks during hibernation

CT: hawk’s eye, nighttime patrol, sits alone most of the time, secretly watches the winter shift, LOATHES the hardness hierarchy

Wyoming: albite, good at dodging, makes up jokes as a pastime during patrol, also very extra with sword tricks, never stays with a partner for long

Florida/Flowers: turquoise, handmade weapons, the only gem that laughs at albite’s jokes, usually quiet otherwise, briefly partnered with aquamarine before being taken

The triplets (ohio, iowa, and idaho): sodalite cluster, the only trio partnership, all three somehow managed to survive a trip into the ocean, play hypothetical games a lot in boredom, never saw a lunarian until it was too late

—————————

Kimball: euclase, command speaker, former partner of Zircon, cracks at the thought of them now, demanding, needs a damn nap, mom friend of the entire chorus group

Doyle: barite, current partner of Euclase, can barely lift the lightest blade, flinches at the slightest bit of movement in the field, euclase has definitely almost broken them in rage

Palomo: green fluorite, lost partners but barely notices, whines during tasks, stutter of the gods, surprisingly still on earth

Jensen: grossular, likes helping with building and architecture but usually breaks something/someone by accident, also hates going outside

Andersmith: Haüyne, everything is symbolic, pats heads for comfort, parent friend, cracked by zircon once

Bitters: Marcasite, sleeps on patrol, doesn’t move when butterflies land on them, has tried eating plants and failed

Matthews: Pyrite, youngest houseki, listens to every command without question, repeatedly broken during battle but always comes back in one piece, covers for Marcasite’s naps

Grey: sugilite, main doctor, scares Alexandrite, psychoanalysis for life, delays fixing to look into individual pieces, desperately wants to dissect lunarians but chooses not

Locus: Diopside, moon gem, refuses to give up pieces of celestine, prefers larger blade but anything works, scares lunarians to a haunting degree

Felix: zircon, moon gem, knives, purposely tries keeping other gems in pristine condition to break them later, lives for annoying diopside

Sharkface: pyrope, moon gem, has tried breaking zircon multiple times, hangs around admirabillis on the moon, wants to see the ocean one day

—————————

Dylan: lunarian, writes about the gems in-depth, tries her best to save any pieces not crushed to dust yet, sneaks between moon and earth

Jax: admirabillis, everyone really wishes he couldn’t speak but he does, tries eating moon dust to Dylan’s dismay, also sneaks between the moon and earth on sunspots

Temple: chrysocolla, lives alone in the ocean trying to find the pieces of orange fluorite (Biff), washes ashore after a while and harasses lunarian Lazulite, breaks another gem to try and negotiate OF being returned

Genkins: lunarian noble, wears as much jewelry as possible, like symbolic pieces (lazulite, bort, etc.), will swing a weapon at any lunarian or gem without warning

Chrovos: lunarian noble, admirabillis breeder, crushes/sculpts gem pieces, adores Pink diamond (makes them a little eyepatch)

—————————

One: azurite, lives for sparring/training, makes jokes about the older gems, hotheaded, easily runs into battle even against orders, likes being partnered with Spinel

East: spinel, fastest of the squad, also hates the hardness scale, first year almost lost to the ice floes, missing torso pieces, coddled by heliodor (in their own way), hates being partnered with Azurite

Raymond: sphene, most likely to cuddle a shiro until it reforms, forgets the hardness of others half the time, that comes at the consequence of crashing into harder gems and breaking, very jumpy but coordinated

Axel: pyrope, former partner of red diamond, original arms missing replaced with gold/platinum alloy (ice floes trying to save spinel), pun-king, also likes tending to plants

West: heliodor, leader of shatter squad™️, protective of spinel (saw them born from the chord shore), strict to the hardness scale, dad friend, has seen a lot of gems lost

Tiny: yellow topaz, lives for architecture and weapons maintenance, also furniture builder, has cracked a few gems with hugs, the best card player

Diesel: dumortierite, moon gem, lotta different pieces, agate legs, different varieties across body (synthetic and captured), barely remembers their name half the time because of it, has a huge soft spot for red diamond and spinel

Phase: spinel (twin crystal), synthetic in torso holes, good at delivering precise damage, never sticks with one hairstyle or outfit, refuses to be seen on earth, takes everything to hold back smashing Azurite

Zero: red diamond, former partner of Pyrope, it’s big sword or no sword, wants to be the last houseki standing on the moon and earth, former winter shift, sleepwalks

[strangcrdoctor]

∞So here’s a headcanon that I’ve been meaning to put into words for a long while but have never taken the time to. But I’m going to put it under a cut because it has to do with the details of Stephen’s accident and the medical trauma he survived therein.

This is specifically based off of the 2016 film (which I also think did a spectacular job of justifying the crash, btw - road conditions, model of car, impact points and all), but I’ll toss in a few cents about how comic iterations in previous generations might be different just for shits ad giggles and because I love shit like this. 

First and foremost, especially working from the earliest DS comic canon, the cars were of the age and variety of “screaming metal death-trap.” Seatbelts weren’t required by law in the 1960s, and in fact many cars didn’t even come with them from the manufacturers because they weren’t considered a safety requirement. Granted they were made of hard body steel and could take impacts well by virtue of being fucking tanks, but the tire quality and torque ratios were... not made for the speeds they could suddenly get to, which did top out at 80-110 mph (in luxury models) with suspensions that were not clement for sustaining speed and road grip at the same time. It was statistically common that even non-reckless driving could result in horrible injuries under the wrong circumstances, therefore. Add in a 1960s inflated male ego, and frankly it’s amazing Stephen didn’t just die. Which is the entire plot point, I’ll grant. I also headcanon that in that era (and even regarding modern Stephen’s collector’s dream cars) Stephen would likely have been in a Rolls Royce Phantom or a Cadillac Coupe de Ville. He would definitely have his eye on a Jaguar E-Type (still does), but back in the 1960s maintaining one would have been more trouble than it was worth even by his standards and budget.

All that aside, let’s talk about the crash in the 2016 Doctor Strange movie. First and foremost, the overall accident itself is totally feasible for the model of car Stephen was driving. Lamborghini and other luxury super-car manufacturers have exceedingly specific impact testing, which is focused - unfortunately - more for track condition impacts than civilian driving conditions. In essence, super cars are built to handle rolling and lateral shear impacts to frankly insane degrees. They are not, however, well built for head-on collisions by nature of the priority of aerodynamics in the design. This feeds into why the Lamborghini in particular was undoubtedly an active choice on behalf of the producers. What’s notable about the crash is that in spite of the glance off of the side of the other car, the Lamborghini stays relatively solidly on the road surface which is design accurate. (There’s actually an entire other tangent I could get off on about this, but I will refrain.) Where things go haywire, however, is where that glancing blow hit on the vehicle. Now with many super-car companies, they mount the engine in the “trunk” of the vehicle, which improves traction and opens up space for the frankly insanely large engine blocks that, oh, I don’t know, V12s require. This pushes the cabin toward the front of the vehicle, and leaves the “trunk” space on the front end where most standard cars keep the engine. This makes the front light, but because of air intake and drag it maintains traction via the aerodynamics of the front grille. The back also has improved traction from the weight of the engine sitting over the rear axel, which is a big additive benefit because most sports cars are rear-wheel drive, and in front-engine vehicles this makes the back axel lighter and prone to fish-tailing on tight corners. Not so with Stephen’s Lamborghini. In essence, the weight of the vehicle sits on the axel that bears the drivetrain.

That rear traction is precisely what makes everything go wrong for this particular crash. Because the weight of the vehicle and the wheel drive are all centered in the back, having that portion of the vehicle get bumped is like flicking a coin to get it spinning. The front end of the vehicle, which is substantially lighter and only has the steering column and brakes to counter the inertia of that rear engine, is abjectly disadvantaged for regaining control of the vehicle. Even the most experienced racer doesn’t have the reaction time to regain control on a two-lane mountain highway, in the rain, at night, from an accident that realistically takes less than 10 seconds from impact to exit through the guard rail. In essence, there was zero chance of Stephen being able to recover as soon as the front end of the vehicle impacted the rock wall and put the car’s trajectory onto “death frisbee” instead of “manageable swerve.” 

This is also the second instance where the super-car design seals Stephen’s fate. So because Lamborghinis have an empty front end - again the “trunk” is where the engine is on most other cars, so essentially empty, un-structured, un-reinforced space - head on collisions absolutely crush the front ends. This also explains and in fact makes viable why Stephen’s hands go through the dash in the compound impacts: the front end is getting folded in like a tin can.

Now we get to the dark and scary medical part of the accident. Obviously the accident was catastrophically bad considering the car careened off of a steep mountain slope and impacted all the way down until it reached the river at the bottom of the ravine. But as we saw from the post-accident scenes, Stephen’s injuries weren’t isolated to his hands only. As was made clear from the state of his face, he definitely had cranial trauma - to the point that it seems very lucky he didn’t lose his left eye - which involved contusions at least to the orbit of his left eye and very probably a concussion, and it seems all but impossible that he didn’t also have thoracic and potentially leg trauma as well. Thoracic either from directly impacting the steering column (which I find very likely), or impacting the door (feasible, and does feed into why I think his left hand is worse off than his right, given from the production stills his left hand has eight - five pins and three plates - of the eleven in his hands). He definitely would have had broken ribs and internal bruising or bleeding from those impacts. The leg injuries are also probable for drivers especially because of impact against the dash and steering column.

Now we start getting to the painful part. Yes, just now. So as Christine mentions after Stephen regains consciousness (probably not for the first time but probably the first time cogently), the “Golden Hours” passed while he was in the car waiting for the mercy flight crew to find him. Now, the Golden Hours is actually the Golden Hour - it’s the span of 60 minutes immediately following intense trauma and injury. So not only was Stephen upside down, in and out of consciousness, alone, half-submerged in a river, in a car that could blow at any moment, for more than an hour, it surpassed the hour that was most vital to his potential for nerve recovery. It’s also frankly astounding that Stephen didn’t die from shock, hypovolemia, or hypothermia during the hours it took for them to find him. I will also just mention in passing that jaws of life situations are touchy enough as is with cars, but with someone as injured as Stephen was, in the exceedingly precarious position his car was in, the emergency responders would have had a hard fucking time getting him out alive at all.

But wait, there’s more! So after all of this, he has to get flown back to New York where the actual work of saving his ass begins. And again, I will emphasize that it’s unavoidable that Stephen - who was canonically on the table for ELEVEN HOURS - was not only in surgery for his hands. As a matter of fact, medically his hands would have been the lesser of many priorities. They would have spent some preliminary time trying to make sure his circulation was intact, but to be frank, amputation is a safer, viable option for hands, and they would have openly made that choice on his behalf and prioritized any cranial or thoracic injury. Hell, even prioritize saving his eye, because the trauma of eye removal/optic nerve disruption has a greater chance for fatality than amputation. So Stephen’s hands didn’t just lose the Golden Hour, but would not have gotten operated on for up to three to five additional hours, and that’s under-estimating the complexity his other, higher priority traumas.

Put it all together and what do you get? A man that, by rights, shouldn’t be alive at all. And who, rather than valuing the life that he got to still have, held it against himself that he could no longer inhabit the life he’d had. 

Secondarily, in light of all of the above and the seven consecutive surgeries that Stephen put himself through, you can absolutely bet your lunch money that this man developed an addiction to pain medication. It takes the body up to six months to filter out anesthetic, and given Stephen surely pushed his surgery scheduling to be more quick than advisable for recovery, his endocrine system would have been in free fall. To say nothing of the fact that the only way to deal with that much invasive surgery isn’t just eating healthy and hydrating...

Also please never forget that Stephen’s intern, Billy, was on the phone with him when the crash happened. So Billy was absolutely the one that made the call, and was undoubtedly sitting there, watching the clock as the Golden Hour slipped by and Stephen’s chances of survival dwindled by the second.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.∞

[benmcm18]

Group 7 Independent Project!

Pre Production -

This is the second time I’m working with Group 7. It is truly an honour to be surrounded by such talented people. We have learnt from last time and we thought it would be interesting to switch up the roles. Here was what we ended up with:

Director - Jack

Cinematographer - Bonnie

Producer - Heather

Production Design - Ben

Editor - Heather

Writer - Tom

Here were also the tasks we sorted ourselves:

Write a 1-page proposal (synopsis and directors statement) - JACK (13th May)

Make the movie - Jack

Make a plan and a schedule for your work - Heather

Create a mood board (Each character) - Ben

Create a sonic world for the film (no dialogue / no voice-over) - Heather and Ben

Cut together a series of still images or sequences of footage to create a 2min film - Heather

Record some sound effects using objects you have in your room/ house - you can record on your phone. - Heather and Ben

Source and use sound effects and Atmos sound on Freesound. - Tom

Make a storyboard + animatic - Bonnie

Source footage - eg shoot, take stills, source stills, or work with stock footage from Film Supply to envision your idea - Bonnie

Shot list - Bonnie

Scriptwriting and development - Tom

Present it at the crit - receive feedback - Everyone

Write a short critical reflection on your blog. - Everyone

Songs - Everyone

As Production designer I had to create a mood board. We had discussed in meetings what aesthetic we wanted to go for and I believe we ended up with a mixture between films like “Moonrise Kingdom” and “Fight Club”. Either way, these were two of the films I took inspiration from when working on the mood board of the film.

Additionally, I had to think of the costume for both actors. For the man I chose to instead of having major differences in the two separate costumes to instead change them subtly to give a feeling he is still grounded in reality. So that means I added the glasses, changed the tie and gave him a watch to switch up how he looked. The Imagination costume is inspired from Ewan MacGregor’s character in “Big Fish'' we wanted to give him a full blue costume originally but I realised fairly soon that that wasn’t going to happen. So I adapted and decided to use his ties as a means of stating which reality he was in. When he is in the “dream world” he has a very colourful yellow tie but when he returns to his office I believe we went with a black/red tie.

For the woman, I chose to give her a very colourful look. This was purely so she could match the imagination around her. I discussed with Bonnie about possibly putting flowers in her hair but for some reason we couldn’t find anything. In regards to the rest of her costume I gave her shades so that there would be a physical separation between the two. If he can’t make eye contact with her how is he supposed to connect.

Overall, I’m very happy with the costumes and for a first attempt I’m actually quite proud.

Finally, set design. I had recently worked on a project called “Pied” where I had to create a whole set for my actors. That was pretty much my crash course for this independent project. Using the knowledge I can gain from creating that set I tried implementing it into the office workspace and the picnic arrangement. I’m happy with it but it will honestly be down to you to decide if I did a good job. If I could mention any little “fun facts” about what I did here would be a few:

I used a ping-pong table as the walls splitting the workspace

I tried spreading the food along the picnic like a wall that separated the two of them.

There is a jar of pickles in one of the shots. I don’t know who would bring a jar of pickles to a picnic but I thought it would be funny

On the back wall of the office there is a bunch of hidden Easter eggs *HOWEVER* David’s massive head covers them up!

In regards to how the other team members did. We developed the script ideas until we landed on this one. Jack had a great idea about filming some really nice shots of food. We were actually quite a big fan of this idea. I just thought Heather’s idea would allow us to experiment more.

Tom then wrote a (very) detailed script in collaboration with Heather, Bonnie drew a genuinely fantastic storyboard (she is too hard on herself haha) and Jack prepared for the shoot. One issue that presented itself fairly soon was the fact we had two actors on set. However, our Producer (Heather) handled it like a pro and we managed to get the all clear. Overall, a very hardworking start with the promise of Bonnie doing a short animation for the storyboard. (I’m looking forward to hopefully seeing it)

Production -

The shoot day was very fun. We all arrived at 11:30am and we made our way over to the location. Originally, we had planned to film on top of a hill however, things quickly changed and Jack said there was a fantastic path to film on. I was fairly set on the hill idea (As I had imagined the scene being somewhat similar to the UP opening montage) but he said it was a better location and I trust him.

So this is where it got a bit funky. It turns out the location had been converted into a dirt road since the last time Jack had been there. This was a bit demoralising as we had carried a lot of props out but luckily we had seen a location closer to the beach that could possibly work and the rest was history. That very location near the beach ended up where we would film.

With Jack directing and myself on camera we began to make our way through the storyboard Bonnie had devised. I have to be honest there were parts where we deviated from what was on the storyboard: For example, there is a section where he falls over however it didn’t look natural so we thought of another way to film it. This was where I got a bit carried away with VFX. In the long run I’m pretty sure everyone is happy with it but I wasn’t too sure at the time.

Jack did well as a director, he worked well with David and Kady especially when it came to movements of the actors. There isn’t any dialogue in the scenes so it's mainly physical language instead of verbal. My only advice for Jack would be to do a bit more research on the project before going onto the shoot because there were parts of the shoot where actors would ask questions about their character and I wasn’t confident he knew the answer.

In regards to me, I find it very hard to create something someone else envisions because I’m used to directing and filming projects on my own. I definitely think I improved on this project and having the storyboard and detailed script was a big help. I also felt I should have been more prepared as it didn’t look very good in front of the actors with me fiddling around with the camera because I had set it up in the wrong position.

Overall, I think it was a very fun shoot and it went pretty smoothly. You're going to hit speed bumps on the way but I believe Jack and I handled them well.

Oh also, forgot to mention that I had to also record sound and label all the audio and footage for Heather (why do I almost call you Clair XD) It didn’t take as long as I expected and was actually somewhat therapeutic if you can believe haha.

Post-Production -

The post production process has been going well. We have plenty of time until the deadline and we have already got a very solid draft edit so I’m not worried. I just kind of want to get it finished.

First and foremost, Heather has been doing a fantastic job editing the video. She works efficiently, takes feedback on board and seems to me to have a very solid feel on the fundamentals of editing. Looking at the edit now, there are definite issues but nothing that can’t be solved in 10 minutes. It’s clean, fluid and most of all enjoyable to watch. I’m worried without a synopsis people might not get it but I guess you could see it as “up for interpretation” haha!

Before I talk about my role in the Post-Production process, I just want to mention who else is working on the edit as well. Bonnie is planning on adding some very small animations to the edit to give it that feeling of “not-reality” I think this is crucial because without the animation in the shots. When the man defies the laws of physics it will seem really strange. I believe Tom is doing sound, I’ve supplied them with plenty of audio from on set and am free at anytime to get more for them so it will just be down to when it is completed, I have faith that Tom will create something really special with the Sound design as he will probably blend the sound of the surrounding nature with cold office sounds. I’m excited.

Now onto the part I play. I offered to do the VFX for the film and I’m very happy with them. It’s nothing incredibly tedious to create. It’s very basic motion tracking and keyframing but I think using it in small doses works well and with it accompanied by the animation and sound it will take the film to new levels of quality.

I’m just going to talk about the final VFX shot as it was the most challenging (but fun) part to work on. First, I had to figure out how I was going to get the image of Kady onto the wall without printing her because I realised I would be able to match up the shots if I had just zoomed out from an actual image. So I went for a bit of green paper. I motioned tracked it through After Effects and then played with the colour so it matched the scene. I then added an artificial zoom in Premiere and I got the final result. Now, it is not perfect in any means. I wasn’t able to track back any further than I did so the image in the paper actually moves but with the help of Heather and the use of changing aspect ratios I think it really works. I guess we will have to see how people respond.

So that is about everything on the project. I will be back to reflect next month on the finished project. Hopefully it turns out okay. Hopefully, it doesn’t turn into a train wreck. I’m sure it won’t :)

[sciencespies]

How Indigenous Stories Helped Scientists Understand the Origin of Three Huge Boulders

https://sciencespies.com/nature/how-indigenous-stories-helped-scientists-understand-the-origin-of-three-huge-boulders/

How Indigenous Stories Helped Scientists Understand the Origin of Three Huge Boulders

Three giant rocks—Tokia, Rebua, and Kamatoa—sit in the ocean south of Makin Island in the Republic of Kiribati. James Terry

This article is from Hakai Magazine, an online publication about science and society in coastal ecosystems. Read more stories like this at hakaimagazine.com.

The first time James Terry heard the legend of Makin Island’s three boulders was in 2012. Romano Reo, a retired chief surveyor from the Kiribati Lands and Survey Department, emailed him and relayed the story of a fabled king who once lived on an island that is now part of the Republic of Kiribati in the central Pacific Ocean. In the story, people on the nearby Makin Island brought the king a gift of fruit. But the fruit was rotten, and the king, enraged by the affront, sent three giant waves to punish the Makin Islanders. Each wave carried a huge rock toward the shore. As the deluge crashed down, the terrified islanders begged for forgiveness. The king relented, stopping the third wave just in time.

The story grabbed Terry because, as a geoscientist at Zayed University in the United Arab Emirates, he had a thing about offshore boulders. He wondered if the story was, in fact, more than a story. It was possible that the tale about the angry king, passed down by the island’s Indigenous Micronesians, might be a geomyth—a legend that encodes true information about an area’s geological past.

And so, in June 2018, Terry and fellow researchers went to Makin Island to find out. They introduced themselves to the locals, making a traditional offering of tobacco to their ancestors. With their guidance, the researchers were led to Makin’s southern shores. There, standing proudly and almost entirely out of the water during low tide, were two massive rocks.

“They’re just sitting all alone, these isolated, huge boulders,” says Terry. Each of the rocks has a name. Arranged in a line, roughly east to west, are Tokia, a boulder 22 meters in circumference, and Rebua, slightly smaller at 18.5 meters. The third stone, Kamatoa, is the largest. Roughly 39 meters in circumference—broader than a school bus is long—Kamatoa is always underwater. It is the king’s mercy.

While on the trip, they unexpectedly met Tobeia Kabobouea, a man in his 60s who holds the position of the Wiin te Maneaba, or traditional storyteller. The man is a “living archive,” as Terry and his colleagues write in a recent paper. Noticing the scientists’ interest in the stones, Kabobouea offered to recite a story.

He proceeded to narrate a different tale from the one Terry had heard years earlier by email. The Wiin te Maneaba told the story of a Makin Island man who was cheated by his community. His neighbors on a nearby island had an ability to summon and hunt dolphins, but gave the Makin Island man only the internal organs—never the tastier meat. Out of anger, the man called three waves, each carrying a huge stone, and sent them hurtling toward the villagers. Eventually, he felt remorse and halted the final and most destructive wave.

That’s two distinct—yet strikingly similar—accounts of gigantic waves bearing Tokia, Rebua, and Kamatoa to their present resting places.

Terry and his colleagues then turned to the three boulders themselves.

Each boulder is made of coral. Because corals extract uranium from seawater—and because that uranium decays and turns into thorium when the coral dies—the ratio of uranium to thorium in dead corals can indicate when they died. “It works like an atomic clock,” says Terry. The analysis yielded a range of possible dates, with the most likely being 1576.

Based on the scale of the boulders, and the energy that would have been required to move them, Terry and his colleagues think that a powerful tsunami—roughly as strong as the one that caused the disaster at Japan’s Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant in 2011—hit Makin Island in 1576. Terry suggests that the tsunami was triggered by the collapse of a part of the seafloor just off Makin. The wave snapped the rocks from a nearby coral reef and hurled them toward the shore.

Though there is no way of knowing for sure that the stories passed down by the local population definitely relate to a single historical event, the research appears to confirm what Makin Island’s Micronesians seem to have known all along.

Adrienne Mayor, a folklorist and historian of ancient science at Stanford University in California, notes that key details in both versions of the Makin Island story hint that a tsunami was responsible for the huge waves, rather than some other event. For instance, there is no mention of a storm in either iteration of the legend. The waves come seemingly out of nowhere, just like a tsunami, and could well have brought boulders with them. “I thought that was really fascinating,” says Mayor.

“A lot of the most ancient legends are about nature,” she adds. It was, she suggests, a way of attempting to explain sudden or monumental changes that people experienced. They certainly knew how to package warnings in compelling narratives that others would likely pass on.

Terry, the Wiin te Maneaba, and others—including me—prove Mayor’s point: “People will keep telling the story.”

This article is from Hakai Magazine, an online publication about science and society in coastal ecosystems. Read more stories like this at hakaimagazine.com.

Related stories from Hakai Magazine:

• Surrogacy Across Species

• Scoping Out the Gulf of Mexico’s Secret Submerged Forest

Coral Reefs

Geology

Indigenous Peoples

Natural Disasters

Oceans

Pacific Ocean

Tsunami

#Nature

[samsexualdeancurious]

Boy Shorts (NSFW)

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 1,743

Summary: The reader has an after-dinner surprise for Sam

Warnings: nipple play, implied further smut

Betaed by @manawhaat

Written for @saxxxology for her February 2020 Angel fic

---

The crinkle of the red tissue paper is soft but still feels like a jet engine in the quiet of the dimly-lit bedroom. You carefully peel back the paper, biting your lower lip as the contents of the classy black box are revealed - a pair of boy shorts, a bralette, and matching robe, all  made of soft burgundy silk edged with black lace.

You really hope Sam likes it.

“Y/N?”

You quickly refold the tissue paper and put the lid on the box before shoving it under the bed, behind your shoes where you know Sam definitely won’t look.

“Yeah?” you call back, opening the bedroom door and poking your head out.

Sam is coming down the hall, looking like sex on legs in his gym shorts and plain grey t-shirt. It’s not a look you ever appreciated on a man but then you saw it on Sam and now it’s one of your favorites, especially now. He’s clearly post-workout, shirt clinging to him in all the best ways and skin shining with sweat under the hallway lights. He has his hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few wayward strands escaping to cling to his face.

“I’m gonna go jump in the shower,” he says as he reaches you, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Wanna join me?”

You laugh, brushing an errant strand of hair off his forehead. “Save water?”

He grins, wicked and mischievous. “Of course.”

You laugh, shaking your head fondly, and allow him to lead you down the hall.

--

Friday comes too soon and not soon enough, and starts out perfectly with breakfast in bed provided by Sam. There are few things you love more than cuddling up against his side, especially if there’s food involved. Sam’s not a professional chef by any means but he’s great at breakfast foods.

The day is a lazy one, morning and early afternoon spent lounging around the bunker together. Dean is out celebrating “unattached drifter Christmas” and Cas took Jack on a minor hunt to give you and Sam space for the day. You don’t really need it - you end up snuggled together in the “Dean Cave” and watching the first Harry Potter movie. Far from the most romantic thing you could be doing but you don’t mind. It’s been so busy lately with back to back hunts, and it’s nice to just spend time with Sam.

“Hey,” Sam murmurs as the credits start to roll, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “I, um. I might’ve made dinner plans for us.”

You smile, turning your head to catch his lips in a soft kiss. “Dinner plans, huh? Good thing I made after-dinner plans, then.”

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “After dinner plans?”

“Shh.” You kiss him again. “Don’t ask me to spoil your surprise. Where are we going for dinner?”

“That new Italian place.”

“So, wear a dress?”

He smiles, forehead resting against yours. “Not if you don’t want to but the dress code is nicer so you should probably keep that in mind.”

You laugh, gently shoving him away. “I’ll go get changed.”

--

Sam wears his best suit, the one that perfectly highlights both his shoulder-to-waist ratio and his impossibly long legs. The sight of him standing in the library waiting for you was almost enough for you to forgo dinner all together and skip right to the after-dinner plans but you manage to keep yourself under control and it’s worth it to have Sam tripping over his words when he sees you in your favorite new dress, hair perfectly styled and just the right amount of makeup on.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he inquires, reaching out to settle his hands on your waist.

“Must’ve done something right,” you reply with a grin. “Take me to dinner, Sam?”

He does exactly that and is a perfect gentleman the whole night, treating you like a princess - or a queen. It feels like it’s been forever since you’ve been able to go out, just the two of you, and it’s been even longer since you’ve gone anywhere nicer than a bar or diner. In general, the hunting life does not lend itself to having regular date nights, let alone nice ones.

Still, you can’t wait to get home. You’re not wearing Sam’s surprise yet - it doesn’t really work under dresses - but you can just imagine the soft touch of the silk on your skin, the way he’ll settle his hands on your waist, the bright way he’ll look at you.

You crash back into the bunker, lips locked as you make your way through the garage, down the stairs, across the war room, and into the library. Sam’s body is huge against your own - all lean, powerful muscle and huge hands that immediately start pulling at your close. He lets out a needy whine when you push him away.

“Patience,” you chuckle. “After dinner surprise, remember?”

His eyes are wild but he allows you to seat him in one of the library chairs after you turn it to face away from the table and the entrance to the hallways.

“Sit here,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss him softly. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Sam groans but nods and you hurry down the halls to your shared bedroom. The box is exactly where you left it, tucked neatly behind your shoes, and you set it on the end of the bed before you take off your clothes. As soon as you’re naked, you open the box and carefully lift each item from its tissue paper bed.

He’s going to love this.

--

Sam is exactly where you left him, waiting patiently with his back to you. You could do this in your bedroom but Sam’s been whispering about fucking you in the library for months now, and tonight, with everyone away, is the perfect night for it.

“Don’t move,” you call to him, stepping carefully onto the hardwood of the library so your heels don’t make too much noise.

Sam jumps, startled but obeys.

“Good boy.”

You cross to the table behind him and boost yourself up to sit on the edge, arranging your robe so the right amount of everything is revealed and crossing your legs before you lean back on your hands.

“Sam,” you say softly when you’re ready. “C’mere, baby.”

He hesitates a moment before looking over his shoulder. The minute his eyes land on you, his breath catches in his throat.

“Y/N,” he breathes, scrambling to his feet and across the room. “Fuck, baby, you…” he comes to a stop right in front of you, hands reaching to just skim over your shoulders and down your arms. “Oh, my god.”

Your cheeks burn and you duck your head shyly, grinning. “You like it?”

“Like it?” His hands come up to rest on either side of your neck, drawing you into a soft kiss. “Babe, you look fucking gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?”

He kisses you again, slow and passionate, before dropping his hands to your waist.

"Bedroom?" Sam asks, fingers playing with the tie of your robe.

"Why go all that way?" you reply, your own fingers beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt. "I think this table should be sturdy enough."

His eyes light up. "Really?"

You stretch up to kiss him and whisper, "I want you to fuck me right here, baby."

Sam groans and shifts closer. You uncross your legs, allowing him to fit his hips between your thighs, and shove his jacket and shirt off his shoulders at the same time. He tosses them over the back of the chair without looking and then his hands are on you, long fingers gliding over the soft fabric of your robe and inching their way up your thighs as he captures your lips with his own. You can’t help a soft sound when his fingertips slip under the lace that edges your boy shorts.

“Yeah,” Sam whispers, hands jumping to the belt of your robe and using it to draw you closer to him with a playful tug. “Gonna treat you right, baby.”

“Always do.” You shrug the robe off when he pushes it off your shoulders, allowing the fabric to pool around you on the table.

He hums in agreement, nose bumping against yours.

“You’re never gonna get around to fucking me at this rate” you tease.

“Just savoring this,” Sam replies, fingers playing along the bottom edge of your bra. “Savoring you.”

Warmth swells in your chest and you push your hands into his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. C’mon.” You hook your legs around his thighs, grinding your lower body against his. “I need you.”

Sam growls low in his chest and pushes you to lay back on the table even as his mouth begins traveling down the side of your neck. You go easy, arching your spine and tipping your head back in invitation. Sam growls again, a sound that goes straight to your clit and makes you throb. His teeth find your collarbone, nibbling a mark there, before he follows one thin bra strap down to where lace rests against the curve of your breast.

He lingers there a moment, kissing softly along the edge. His hands have settled on your waist and now they’re creeping under the lace there, fingertips brushing along the underside of your breasts.

“Can I?” he asks, lifting his head a little to meet your gaze.

You nod and he pushes the bra up. It bunches under your armpits and you lift your arms so he can take it all the way off but he stops there, shifting his attention to carefully tonguing one nipple. You whine, squirming underneath him, and feel him smile against your skin.

Sam’s hands drift downward now, staying on top of your boy shorts as one makes its way between your legs. He cups your mound through the fabric, positioning the heel of his hand so you have something to grind up against.

“Sam,” you moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders as you take full advantage of his hand placement. “Please.”

He smirks, turning his head to give your other breast the same amount of attention. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“Want - oh, fuck, yes - want your cock. Please.”

Sam groans and lifts up to kiss you. “Since you asked so nicely.”

---

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—

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[takaraphoenix]

Grey’s Anatomy: Review

Took me four months, but I have successfully watched all 16 seasons of Grey’s Anatomy - and what there is of season 17. Figured it deserves some words.

HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS SHOW? SO MUCH?

(To set the appropriate mood for this and give you a TL;DR.)

That being said to open it up, it is most definitely not flawless. So let’s start there. For me, the one big flaw it has is really the writers’ cuckolding kink. So. Much. Cheating. And - worse than the cheating plots - the cheating apologism. They echo the exact same sentiment so often, that cheating is only one mistake and humans make mistakes. That’s... at one point, that stops being a plot device and starts to be very telling about the writer, to be quite frank.

That being said, let’s roll out the positive. And let’s kick it off with something that relates to all the cheating; so many forced love-triangles, but they usually don’t include toxic rivalries. It’d be so easy to have the men throw punches over the women or the women pull hair and scratch each other’s eyes... so many other rom-drama shows do it already, after all. But, honestly, the two lose ends on the love V (because these things ain’t triangles) usually have such a good dynamic with each other, ranging from civil to friendships to deep mentor ships - Meredith and Addison, Mark and Jackson, Cristina and Teddy? Seeing these dynamics, quite frankly, makes having to sit through a love-triangle-nonsense actually more than bearable.

The most impressive thing about the show is, to me, the amount of rep on it. I mean sure, the main lead is white and I’d estimate half the overall cast are white, but even from the get go - in 2005 - the ratio of white actors versus actors of color in the main cast was five to four. And they’re not background or side characters - I mean, two of them are, aside from Meredith, the only ones to still be around on season 17. They all have their own plotlines, their own relationships and troubles and struggles. It’s not just the Meredith show, not by far.

And beyond that, the queer rep on this show is... honestly mindblowing? I mean, seriously?

They introduced their first queer character in season 2, in 2005, when other procedual dramas that aired then in large parts just... never... added queer characters. And sure! Joe was only a recurring character and not a main character, but he was recurring for six seasons, he recurred a lot, he got established, he and his husband partook in the plot. And, again, this was just the beginning, back in 2005.

They’ve since then steadily broadened their horizon and become more inclusive.

Recurring and main character wise, we’ve had 5 lesbians, 5 bisexual women, 4 gay men and 2 trans characters over these 17 seasons. That’s a very solid list, honestly. If I look at other shows, again especially procedual dramas that are still largely aimed at a more conservative audience, the fact that we’ve had actual queer storylines in every single season since season 2? That’s amazing.

Even more so on the one-off characters, to be quite honest. Just... casually, this patient has two moms, this man is visited by his husband, here the child of the patient is nonbinary, look this patient is in a polyamorous relationship. Sure, those are only the one-off episodical characters, but you have no idea how much that matters too.

I know I’m repeating myself with this, but especially when compared to other procedual dramas, where the characters are often only queer when it’s important to the plot. He got beaten up and ended up in the hospital because he was gay. She got killed because she was trans. They’re motivational and important to the plot (and also usually used to victimize the characters).

The fact that this show, even 10+ years ago already, just... included queerness as part of our reality, included it casually, positively and repeatedly - really, it’s not just like it’s one episode per season like it’s some obligation, it happens a lot? For no actual needed plot reason, she just has a wife and she’s just happily married to her wife and that’s it, because queer people exist.

And I just, I struggle to express how much this casual rep means to me? And how it becomes even more amazing if you consider how long ago it started? And if you add to it the steady prominent recurring/main character rep?

Sure, it’s not perfect - the majority of their characters of color are black; it’s not overly diverse when it comes to what characters of color it included, it took forever to include the second Asian character and the first Muslim character and it could feature a broader variety of ethnicities, just like it could offer a broader variety of queer experiences, I mean it took them forever to introduce the first mlm main character and they have yet to include a bisexual man, I’d also just love to see an ace character or a polyamorous character, to paint a contrast to the sex-obsession and cheating plotlines - but... it’s doing more than many others and I do think it deserves praise for that and it keeps improving. They didn’t just add Erica and Callie as the first wlw couple and then stuck to only having two queer ladies on screen at the same time and never more, just constantly replacing Callie’s girlfriend. They kept adding more, they keep adding more.

Now, on to my absolute favorite thing about this show.

Because, let’s make one thing clear, I hate cheating and under other circumstances the amount of cheating on this show would have driven me off it ten seasons ago. But despite all of the very forced romance drama and sex obsessed allos on the show, that is not the show’s main focus.

This was never mainly about the romance. It’s always been about the platonic relationships first and foremost. Romances changed and broke up and got complicated, but what prospered were the friendships and found family relationships.

Cristina and Meredith are the defining relationship of this show. They are... friendship portrayed in a way I have never seen friendship portrayed before. The writing on their dynamic is just amazing.

And when Cristina leaves the show, the shift to Meredith-Alex and to the sister-dynamic between Meredith, Maggie and Amelia really works.

Personally, after watching the show, I’ve come to divide it into three arcs, each with a Part A and a Part B.

The first arc of the show - spanning seasons 1 to 5 - are about Meredith, Cristina, George, Izzie and Alex. And they explore the dynamic between those five and the individual relationships between them all, so very well. This was really found family done right.

Arc 2 is what I dubbed the rebranding arc - seasons 6 to 10. In Part A (s6 to s8), we got the focus on the Mercy West merger, ending in the horrific plane crash. While Part B is what I call the outfall, season 9 dealing with the outfall from the plane crash and season 10 being all about that Meredith-Cristina outfall.

I love Arc 1 a whole lot, it’s really good. I think Arc 2 is good too, especially the plane crash and its outfall were very gripping and well done, but I do think that this middle part earns the dub as rebranding because it feels like the show itself is trying to find its footing, trying to figure out a direction after MAGIC graduated into residents (and, inevitably, fell apart with the death of George and the departure of Izzie). It’s a bit unfocused on where it wants to go and I still loathe the big misunderstanding nonsense of season 10 (but am glad that Meredith and Cristina rekindled before Cristina’s departure).

Arc 3 is the sisters arc, where the Meredith-Maggie-Amelia dynamic rules, with a more uneven split between A and B, because A spans seasons 11 to 16 for me and is lovingly dubbed the Merlex arc by me, while B is just... season 17; the corona pandemic is really shifting the tone and focus and it coincides with the departure of Alex.

I’m more mixed on it than I am on the other two. For me, Cristina and Meredith just are the heart and soul of the show, so despite just how brilliantly they handled that all, I still miss them (though I greatly appreciate the fact that she still regularly comes up through phone calls, texts, etc). I greatly disliked Alex’s departure (which is a rant of its own).

On the overall, I would actually rank them in order - the first five seasons were my favorite, followed by the awkward middle because it still added brilliant things to it regardless, and despite coming in last, I do also love the second half of the show with the sisters in the focus.

I do admit that I had high hopes that Jo would become Meredith’s new person in season 17, considering the tremendous growth their relationship had - especially considering how Meredith crawled into Jo’s bed and was the one to coax what had happened with her mother out of her; that was “my person” behavior, quite frankly, and I also thought that Alex’s departure might bring them closer. I truly did not like Alex’s parting words to Meredith that she’s always been her own person.

Well, duh. Meredith Grey is an absolute badass. Which, also a thing I love a lot about this show. She is so incredibly strong and brilliant and takes care of herself.

But the point of her having her person was never that she needed someone else to stand in for her; it was to have someone around whom she didn’t have to be that strong. Someone she could come to to be weak around, someone to have her back when everything became too much. You just... can’t do that for yourself. So that sentiment was just incredible rubbish and I will be very mad if they truly have her embrace that nonsense, because she deserves someone like that.

Lastly, let’s talk romantic relationships. Very broadly, I assure you - I wouldn’t even have the patience to tackle them all, I mean seriously everyone has had sex on this show, or so it feels (no but seriously, the amount of overlapping ships on this show is ridiculous).

The only note I do have on that is that... nothing lasts forever. Quite frankly, the most “endgame” ships on this show are Richard/Catherine and Ben/Miranda (which, bless them, those two are literally my favorite of the canon ships). Everything else is just... fair game? They change, they break up, even if you absolutely hate a ship - don’t worry, it’s gonna end soon.

And occasionally, that... is even more rewarding than seeing a couple you do like get together? I mean, honestly, watching a ship you dislike for x reasons and then having them break up on screen and a character actually listing x reasons to the other’s face? Very carthatic.

I also have to mention the adoption positivity; Meredith and Derek adopt a child, not as a last resort after all else has failed, but simply because they fell in love with that little girl, Ben and Bailey took in Joey, because they have big hearts. So often, adoption is only shown as that very, very last option after you wasted thousands of dollars on all other biological options and then it is like a tragic compromise or something. Seeing them just... fall in love with this baby and adopt her and love her is so refreshing?

This show is just... really, really good? The writing is brilliant. I mean, this show made me laugh more than some comedies have? It’s funny, poignant and... not overly dramatic? I mean, of course it’s dramatic - it’s a drama. But it’s more... grounded. Even with some outstandingly extreme things happening, it is still very down to Earth, compared to other dramas that feel the need to go higher and more bizarre each season. It’s incredibly consistent, it includes so much rep and actual plotlines for every character, it really draws out relationships - familiar, platonic, romantic - in such great details.

I just really love this show.

[lets-talk-appella]

If you have time can you do the “You’re not mature enough to be a parent.” - “Try me.” prompt.

This is like… more than a year later. But! I feel that we all need some fluff right now, so here you go, with a small modification.

Bounding

Summary: Domestic Bechloe fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: G for gross amounts of fluff

Ao3 and FFN (posted as a chapter in a series of prompts)

Chloe stares atthe pile of soggy, smelly laundry in the washer in disbelief. She blinks once.Yep. It’s definitely been sitting there. For several hours, judging by thecrumpled state of their clothes.

That’s when theannoyance sets in.

“Beca!” she shouts.

“What?” Becacalls from deeper in the house.

“Did you forgetto move the laundry again?!”

The ringingsilence she gets in return is all the answer she needs

After having beenmarried and living together for two years, it’s safe to say the honeymoon phaseis wearing off.

With a growl,Chloe reaches into the washer and tries to extract the clothes, which cling toeach other and the inside of the machine with stubborn tenacity. A whiff oftheir damp odor wafts into her nose and she cringes; changing her battletactics, she shoves the clothes back into the washer and slams the door closedso hard it makes the machine rattle. Muttering angrily, she wrenches open thelaundry cabinet and, in her haste to find the detergent, knocks over severalbottles of various stain removers and carpet cleaners, some of which crash tothe floor.

She groans outloud and stoops, collecting each item and shoving it back in the cabinet,knowing the lack of organization will annoy her later but not bothering to carenow. She untwists the cap of the detergent and, not paying close enoughattention to her task, pours far too much into the measuring cap and spends thenext few seconds pouring it back into the bottle. Of course, some trickles downthe side of the bottle and leaves a sticky blue mess.

Clicking hertongue in annoyance, Chloe tugs open the machine’s soap drawer, pours thedetergent into the slot, then slams the drawer closed. Her movements sharp andquick, she screws the cap back onto the detergent untidily, causing even moreof the soap to run down the sides of the bottle and onto her hand. With a huff,she wipes the bottle and her hand clean with some tissue and slams thedetergent onto its proper shelf so it knows what it’s done. Kicking the laundrycabinet door closed, she pounds her hand on the washer’s “start” button, whosecheery wash cycle jingle only worsens her temper.

Chloe blows astrand of hair from her eyes.

Is it really thathard to remember to switch clothes over to the dryer in a reasonable amount oftime? Or, is it so hard to do the dishes? Or, heaven forbid, put them away? Achore that Beca had neglected all week. Beca’s been neglecting lots ofhousehold tasks, now that Chloe thinks of it. Vacuuming, bathroom cleaning,studio organizing, meal prep. In fact, Chloe can’t recall a single thing Becaactually has helped with recently.

Chloe clenchesher jaw. They’re supposed to be a team.They’re supposed to work together to maintain house and home. They’re supposedto slow dance while cooking. They’re supposed to throw socks at each other whenfolding laundry. They’re supposed to trade kisses while passing one another inthe hall, one armed with a broom and the other pushing a vacuum.

But no. It’s beenChloe pulling both of their weights around the house, doing all the chores,while Beca sits behind her laptop mixing and doing who-knows-what, a veritableBeca Show while Chloe slaves away.

And she’s hadenough.

Gritting herteeth, Chloe barks out, “Beca! Where are you?”

A briefhesitation, then a small sounding, “Studio,” comes from Beca’s generaldirection.

Chloe snortsderisively. Of course. She stomps toward the study, moving quickly throughtheir kitchen and dining room and into the hall. The door to the studio roomBeca has claimed as her workspace is open a crack already, but Chloe stillflings it open. She holds onto the handle so it doesn’t ricochet off the wall(the last thing she needs right now is a drywall hole to patch) but it stillhas the desired effect; Beca stares at her from her desk, eyes wide andstartled.

“Chl—”

“Beca, what thehell?”

“I—”

“I had to restartthe washer because the clothes you leftin there started to mold.”

Which isn’tstrictly true. They just smelled kind of bad. But still, Beca’s grimacedelivers no small amount of satisfaction.

“I know, Iforgot, and—”

“You’reforgetting a lot!” Chloe cries, throwing her hands into the air. “Dishes,floors, bathrooms, cooking—”

“Chloe—”

“We need to eat, Beca! Do you want us both toabsolutely starve because you forgot to meal prep? I mean Jesus,Beca, I could pass out at work fromhunger if I don’t have lunch!”

Beca’s lipstwitch. Chloe feels some of her anger deflate, but rallies quickly.

“And what aboutthe—the floors? If we don’t vacuum—allergens! Molds! Dust! Everywhere!” Chloelists, regaining momentum. “Dirty carpets lead to heart disease, Beca, I readthat in the—”

“I’m sorry!” Becamanages, hands raised in a peace offering. “Really. I’m sorry. Work has beencrazy lately, and—”

“I work, too!”Chloe declares imperiously, though she knows her regular 9-to-5 hours as amusic teacher are less demanding than Beca’s often-erratic schedule meetingwith rising singers seeking production. “And yet I do everything!” She moves,storming farther into the room to join Beca behind the desk to peer at herlaptop. “What could you possibly beworking on that’s more important than—”

Chloe cutsherself off with a choking noise, unable to believe her eyes. She stares at thelaptop screen for a long moment, then looks back at Beca, who grins sheepishlywhile seeming to shrink into her office chair.

“So, um, I’vebeen thinking—”

“DOGS?” Chloeshouts, pointing an accusing finger at the laptop. “I’ve been breaking my BACKaround OUR house doing YOUR chores because you’re too busy looking at picturesof DOGS?”

“Um.” Beca says.“It’s the Humane site? I’ve just been thinking, you know, it might be nice tohave a dog?”

Chloe sputterswordlessly, despite the tiny part of her that agrees with Beca whole-heartedly.It would be really nice to have a dog. But she’s on a warpath, damn it, and shecan’t stop now. So, she draws herself up to her full height.

Beca’s eyes widenstill further. “They’re so fluffy, Chlo, look.”

“You’re notmature enough to be a dog parent!!” Chloe spits.

Beca’s eyebrowsdraw together and she lifts her chin, defiant. “Oh yeah? Try me!”

The words comeout loud and challenging, and for a second, they glare at each other. A smallmuscle twitches in Beca’s cheek, and Chloe has a fleeting thought towardkissing it.

Just like that,most of her anger drains away. She’s never managed to stay angry at Beca forlong.

“Fine,” she huffs,pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I’ll ‘try you,’” she says, and noteswith satisfaction the sudden uncertainty in Beca’s eyes. “Time to go mattressshopping.”

Beca’s expressionturns to one of mingled horror and devastation. They’ve been talking aboutpurchasing a new mattress since their wedding, having used Chloe’s same oncesince college—which had been purchased secondhand from her cousin before herfreshman year. Which was several years ago. It’s safe to say the mattress hadbeen solidly worn out for a long time, with actual dips in the spots theyusually sleep. It’s just that mattress shopping—spending at least a few hoursin some stuffy mattress store, trying out the hundreds of options and findingsomething they both agree on—is such a chore that they’ve put it off.

Chloe standstriumphant, positive that Beca will drop the dog thing and agree to help morearound the house; basically, anything to delay the mattress shoppingexperience.

However.

To Chloe’ssurprise, Beca’s consternation changes quickly to resolve. She stands from herchair to meet Chloe’s eyes and closes her laptop.

“Fine!” Becasays, wearing that smug, closed lipped smile. “Let me get my keys.”

************

It takes themalmost twenty minutes to actually get in the car, because Beca is too stubbornto admit she lost her keys and wastes fifteen minutes stalling. Chloe finallydigs out her own keys and drives them to the nearest mattress store in silence.

When they arriveat the mattress store, Chloe is relieved to see the parking lot is fairly quietwith few customers. Beca isn’t a huge fan of crowds, and the guilt over makingher mattress shop on a weekend is already starting to set in a little. If therehad been a ton of people there, Chloe would have felt worse about it.

Maybe Beca sensesher guilt; her hand smoothes over Chloe’s lower back as they enter the store.The small gesture tells Chloe she has nothing to feel bad for, and that Beca’sright there with her.

“Good afternoon!”an older, smiling sales associate greets them almost immediately. Chloe’s eyesflick to a nametag: Jerry. His easy-going demeanor and welcoming expressionbring a smile to Chloe’s face.

“Hi!” she greets.“We’re looking for a king-sized, please. Can you help us with that?” As shealways does with new people, she looks for any telltale flicker behind his eyesat the realization that she and Beca are a couple. Thankfully, nothing in hisopen expression changes, and a moment later, Beca’s hand slips comfortably intohers.

“Definitely,”Jerry nods. “Right this way, please.”

He leads them toa side room, where dozens of the king-sized mattresses are aligned perfectly,gathered by brand and further organized by mattress quality and specifications.Maybe seeing their overwhelmed expressions, Jerry begins talking them throughthe advantages and disadvantages of certain brands, as well as the importanceof lumbar support, firmness-to-softness ratio, and customizable comfortsettings. Beca’s eyes glaze over about thirty seconds into his speech, thoughChloe catches her occasionally blinking in effort to pay attention.

It really, trulyisn’t anything against Jerry. It’s simply that mattress shopping is horrible.

It’s a bit of arelief when Jerry finishes the information overload. “I can see that you havemuch to consider,” he says kindly. “I’ll check on some other customers and comeback in a few minutes?”

“That’d be great,thank you,” Beca says, pulling herself out of whatever loop of music Chloe ispositive was running through her mind.

Chloe smiles atJerry as he returns to the main floor, and then turns to Beca. “Fun, right?”

“Super fun,” Becasays. “Very adult. Very mature of us to be here. Purchasing mattresses.”

“Mmm.”

“King-sized,even,” Beca continues. “Upgrade.”

“I thought wecould at least get a nice one.” Chloe walks toward a mattress, sitting on theedge and bouncing a little. “Ooh, Bec, this one is springy!”

“Oh yeah?” Becaasks, wiggling her eyebrows and slowly pacing to Chloe. “That’ll be fun…”

Chloe feels theheat rise in her neck as Beca draws closer.

“…for bouncingon!” Beca finishes her sentence, jumping completely onto the mattress andstanding on it. Before Chloe can stop her, she jumps on it once, making thewhole thing bounce under them both. “See?” Beca asks proudly, looking down ather.

“Get down!” Chloehisses, even while fighting a smile. “Jerry might be back soon!”

Instead, Becaextends her left hand. “Care to join me, m’Lady?”

It’s really thesight of Beca’s wedding band that does it. Chloe gives Beca her own left hand,and Beca helps her to her feet so they’re both standing on the bed.

“Beautiful,” Becasmiles, and it’s the easiest thing in the world for Chloe to lean forward andkiss her quickly.  

“You’re just asbeautiful,” she says.

“Mmm, very true,”Beca agrees with a crooked grin. “We’re both stunning. Now, wanna race to theother side of the room?”

“Oh, it is soon,” Chloe says, and before Beca can so much as blink, she’s jumping from theirmattress to the next, bounding along, aiming for the far wall.

“Cheater!” Becacalls out, and then all Chloe can hear is Beca’s laughter from behind her andthe regular squeaking of bed springs as Beca jumps on the mattresses.

They race, Chloein the lead, bouncing from mattress to mattress, focused on their end goal. Theelation of it fills Chloe, rises in her chest with every jump she takes, andshe feels like a child. Beca draws closer, until she keeps pace with Chloe, andthen they’re not so much racing as they are just keeping near each other. Themattresses are large enough that they can bounce a few times on each beforeleaping to the next, and by the time Chloe gets close to the finish line, herlegs burn with effort.

She arrives onthe final mattress barely an instant before Beca does, and the second Becalands, she wraps her arms around Chloe’s waist and falls, taking her down tothe soft display bed with her.

They’re bothlaughing and out of breath, and Chloe clings to Beca, who pulls her close, eyesdropping to Chloe’s lips, and—

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

************

The car ride homeis as silent as the ride to the store had been.

Chloe keeps hereyes resolutely on the road, both hands firmly on the wheel. Beside her, Becastares out the passenger window.

Traffic hasgotten heavier, people going out to dinner or to shows to enjoy the weekend.They get stuck at a red light. It’s the same one that Chloe swears she always gets stuck at; it definitely hasit out for her.

Beca clears herthroat softly. “So… he was kinda grumpy, wasn’t he?”

The dam breaksand laughter bubbles up from Chloe’s chest. Beca starts laughing too, real,rich laughter that only makes Chloe laugh harder. They laugh, and keeplaughing, each one setting off the other, and it doesn’t subside until Chloe’sstomach hurts and her cheeks ache.

“Oh my god,” shemanages weakly, wiping tears from her eyes as the traffic light turns green andthey inch forward with the crowd of cars. “I thought he was going to kill us.”

“Nah, Jerrywouldn’t do that,” Beca says, waving a hand. “He was trying not to laugh thewhole time he was banning us from the store.”

“He still bannedus though!”

“Only because hetotally had to,” Beca argues. “We still ordered a mattress, so at least wedon’t have to do that again for a while.”

“It was more funthan I thought it would be,” Chloe concedes, taking her eyes off the road onlyfor a moment to smile at her wife.

“It was,” Becaagrees. “Though, maybe you were right about me not being mature. I’m sorry,Chlo. I’ll help more around the house and with everything.”

“I’d appreciatethat,” Chloe sighs happily. “And then, you know, we can talk about being dogparents.”

Beca perks upimmediately. “Yeah?”

“Totes,” Chloereplies easily. “And, maybe, eventually… parent-parents?” she glances over,biting her lip.

Beca is lookingat her like she put the stars in the sky. “That would be nice,” she says.

“Then it’s adeal,” Chloe agrees. “Just… no letting the dog on the new bed, okay?”

Beca doesn’tanswer.

“Bec, I mean it!”

“No promises,Chlo.”

[botaniia]

128

Good chapter, all in all! My thoughts will be much shorter on this one than on 127 because I really hadn’t a clue what to expect from this chapter as opposed to 127. I also read some discussion before writing this so that may influence this, I dunno

Jumping right into things with the airships and answering a question the fandom had since 127: why didn’t the Yaegerists destroy the airships? To push it even further, not only was the question answered, but this fact became a plot-relevant detail as well.

Random thought, but it’s interesting to see Hanji talk about the future prospects of recapturing the uninhabited rumbled lands once this is all over

It’s absolutely divine to see Hanji and Magath strategising and working together

Love love LOVE the panel of everyone getting equipped for battle. I’m dead at Reiner’s “Ah shit here we go again” expression. Very cool to see Annie holding a blade handle again after so long! Jean and Mikasa looking like models as usual, and I love Pieck floating in the background there

So at first I thought the steam was the colossals entering the water on Paradis’ shores. Apparently it’s all the way over at Marley and the rumbling already reached the north. That’s fast! And the fact that the steam can be seen all the way over on Paradis, does that mean that Marley really isn’t all too far away from Paradis?

Falco and Gabi on the lookout are the cutest ever. Glad we get to see my son this chapter! 

Annie: “Hey y’all ‘s okay if I’m armed right?” Everyone: “....”

Every chapter needs a random panel of Levi sleeping because Yams didn’t know what else to put there

Very interesting to see Annie talk using revenge as a frame of reference. It does show how long she’s been under. Pieck explaining the situation to her made me realise we need more interactions between these two

These panels make it obvious how much weight Reiner has lost. Jesus, look at his torso, his neck. He could rival Berthoto in his post-depression  height to weight ratio

I hadn’t even considered that the Yaegerists consisted of their comrades, not the way it’s presented by Jean anyway. It makes a lot of sense that they don’t want to fight and kill their old friends

Annie is to Jean this chapter what Jean was to Hanji the last chapter. Asking the really hard questions in response to a pacifist mindset.

Armin has gotten thick, wow

If I still shipped aruani I’d consider this a strong moment but now it just feels less impactful bhjvk

The dam finally broke for Connie! All these past chapters, he’s been off looking stoic and determined, but it looks like his emotions are finally showing outwardly as well. Poor fucking kid, he’s really seen too much

And he does raise a very important moral question there. With the realisation we see him make later in the chapter, it’s also a very fitting thing for him to wonder about. He’s just not ready to start killing, even if it’s the best option for their cause, and I can respect that he has issues with such a plan.

Annie’s expression... hurts me soul, man

I don’t think I follow yet how she came to the conclusion that JCAM wouldn’t have destroyed the walls if it were them. I don’t agree nor disagree, because I don’t think that it’s possible to estimate that. The JCAM of today definitely wouldn’t have done it, but the JCAM of today are adults who didn’t grow up as child soldiers under heavy propaganda and who were used as disposable weapons. It’s impossible to compare the two with each other. Is Annie saying this because she as the adult she is today would do it all again, as she stated a few chapters back? I’m sure discussion in the next few days will clear this line up.

It’s gonna take me a few days of thinking to understand what exactly that callback to Eren saying he’s just like Reiner means, and how it connects to Annie’s words. Does he think back of it because he likens himself to Eren, or because he likens Eren to himself? It feels like Eren’s saying that he would’ve broken the wall, which is exactly what he’s doing right now with the rumbling, but what do I know? I’m usually dead wrong about things like this. 

I can admire Reiner giving JCAM a choice to not fight the ones they hold dear. After all this time and despite everything, he still holds his old comrades dear enough to spare them from this battle

Hanji’s ready to kill, and I understand it. People are already dying in Marley and there’s no more time left to be humane about things. It’s just like the decision to torture Sannes, like the decision to kill RB given the chance. In an ideal world they’d be able to talk and take their time, but right now they unfortunately don’t have that luxury.

Poor fucking Pieck, Annie, and Reiner. Learning they may already be too late and the worst can have already happened. And Connie’s face. This is the most emotion we’ve seen out of him in a long time that wasn’t just flat out bitterness. He looks destroyed.

Magath shoving Onyankopon had me gigglin’, ngl

It was something else seeing Yelena so emotional and pained. Have we seen her like this before? In a situation where she’s not her usual confident, in control self but she’s genuinely in pain or scared? And then her crying... She’s growing on me more and more the more I see her, now I’m sorta hoping she survives this story

Magath’s confession... I’m gonna be honest, when I first read this it felt like it came out of nowhere and felt forced. Rereading it, I can see where it came from. It’s been on his mind for quite some time since it happened and the fact that they suddenly, just like that, ran out of time probably got him to decide that if there’s ever a time to say this, it’s now

It also proves the idea that right before someone is about to crack, they double down in their ideals. It’s a type of stubbornness all humans have and it often leads to conflict. Doubling down didn’t work, so he finally allowed himself to accept something he didn’t want to be true but somewhere knew was true anyway. That’s growth. I did think Magath would end up coming through in the end

Good on him, a Marleyan, to tell Eldians that the one truth Eldians had always been taught, that they are responsible for their ancestors’ sins, isn’t true at all and that they do not deserve the blame. It just doesn’t hold the same relieving value if an Eldian says it. That was sorely needed, and for Magath specifically to say that is a good thing!

And to tell it to Pieck, Annie, and Reiner as well? That’s a very important detail as well. Done are the days of only absolving the 104th when the warriors deserve it just as much

‘Forgive but don’t forget, teach our children what happened without pointing the finger’ is such an important key idea and I’m glad it’s been put into words. Maybe the school kids from the s4 preview are the outcome of that?

I’m gonna wait for the official translation to look at Armin’s refusal because I don’t believe I fully grasp what he means there

Floch implying that the death of Kiyomi’s nation is a good thing, that she no longer has to worry, shows just how wrong his entire school of thought is. He’s literally “can’t worry about your homeland if your homeland doesn’t exist anymore”. 

Kiyomi’s words as parallel to Erwin’s? Love it

“But what’s most important is for you to know your place” WOW, guy really is on a power trip where he wants to establish a rigid hierarchy, huh?

He does look absolutely terrifying in those panels. Congrats, Yams, you made me intimidated by Floch for reasons other than “he might shoot anyone at any time”

Armin’s strategy bkhjvgjh use the chaos and confusion to get the edge on him, I like it

Absolutely love the dynamic between Connie and Armin. Armin, you lying shit, you’re fake crying again

He knew from the start it hadn’t worked though

Samuel! DAZ!!!! Finally! They’re back! The memes are no longer just dreams!

Kiyomi charging Floch and proceeding to wipe the floor with him will be the subject of my dreams for years to come

When Armin and Connie first realised that the plan failed, I was sure they were surrounded by Yaegerists on all sides and they’d stand no chance. That’s also the moment I accepted that one of them was gonna get KO’d. I honestly expected Connie to bite the dust

When Mikasa first crashed through the window, I thought that she was Levi. Look at that face! It’s such an Ackerman face! It took me a few pages to determine whether that was Mikasa or Levi, even if I knew Levi definitely wouldn’t have been a possibility.

God, how good it feels to see Floch so desperate and distressed! That panel where he’s on his stomach and shoots his anchor out of the window is hilarious

Floch thinks Jean is dead, so he didn’t call for the Yaegerists to attack him. I wonder if that’ll play out somehow. But it does show that he believed that Armin spoke the truth when he said that Jean and Onyankopon were killed. So does he still think the warriors are not on their side (until he’s obv proven wrong, ofc)?

Magath in a SC jacket is 😩👌

Armin being shot had me bamboozled. If he still were my fav character I would’ve definitely had a heart attack, but even now that fucking HURT and caught me completely off-guard. Especially since it’s not just one shot, but three, all of which hit a major artery in one way or another. I was sure Armin was out for a good moment here

Oh wow. I didn’t realise it the first time reading, but the second time? God damn, the parallels between SC and warriors in that particular scene. Just like how Jean and Connie talked to Bertholdt and Reiner about how they’d grow old together and share a good drink once this was all over but their betrayal destroyed that possibility and nullified their camaraderie, Samuel is talking to Connie and Armin about how they’d retake the lands and raise as much cattle as they wanted once this was all over but their betrayal made that impossible. Connie got it. Connie understood in that moment and that’s currently emotionally fucking me over

Reiner and Annie shooting up behind Floch... 😩👌

THEIR TRANSFORMATION POSES, HOT DAMN They’re ready to wipe the floor with some Yaegerists

At first I thought we’d gotten nakey Reiner (ain’t his ass plates missing?) but his face gave me renewed hope. The unhardening thing was a one-time thing only, so it looks like his titan does get armour!

I wonder how convincing it would’ve sounded if in 2016 we heard that in 2020 we’d be overjoyed to see the armoured titan and the female titan wrecking some Survey Corps shit but look where we are now

Zombie Armin looked TERRIFYING, holy fuck

And then there’s those last two pages. Wow. I didn’t even know what I was reading when I first read them, I hadn’t a clue that I was reading the exact narrative I’d been begging to see for many many years. And when I realised it, fuck, that felt good

Connie is betraying comrades, dearly beloved people whom he shared good times with, whom he made promises to, but who unfortunately ended up being on the opposite side of the conflict as he is, because it’s what his goal requires of him. 

The way Samuel words it, it’s even a direct parallel to the way the 104th worded their grievances to Bertholdt and Reiner when they were running away with Eren and Ymir. And when Connie finally answers “You are our comrades, but...” it just clicks. They’re his comrades, they are valued, and yet they still have to die. Just like they did in Clash. Just like they did in RtS. He’s in the exact same situation as RB were years ago, and he’s 100% aware of how this is what’s happening

And it’s the fact that Connie doesn’t use this memory to back down to prove to himself that he’s ‘better’, letting Armin and possibly himself get killed in the process, but instead reevaluates his stance and recontextualises what he knew back then, that’s exactly what I’ve been wishing for for so long

I intend to make a separate post on this because I have so many thoughts on this subject. This tiny detail changes so much for me, clears up so many of the doubts I had, and gives me so much hope that I’m sure will be shattered over the next few weeks but let me DREAM

In fact, I made the post right here

[mr-chrisevans]

Meet Cute - pt. 9

Word Count: 1,561

First Chapter | Last Chapter | Next Chapter

"There she is!" I was greeted by the glowing faces of Casey, Jules, and Estelle as I got back from work. "Hurry up and change so we can start drinking now." Casey told me as I shut the door behind me.

"I didn't realize we were having a little shindig this evening." I said as I walked back to my room and stripped out of my work clothes and changed into something more comfortable. As I changed I heard Estelle working the blender, clearly preparing margaritas for us all. "I hope you are actually doing an acceptable ratio of tequila to mix this time." I said as I sat down at the kitchen counter next to Jules. "Last time we were basically drinking an entire glass of tequila."

"Not to mention it was the worst tequila I've ever tasted in my life." Jules added with a shudder.

"Hey, give me a break. Last time I had spent most of my pay check covering part of that ones rent." She raised her eyebrow at me and returned to the margaritas.

"And I have never been late on rent since then." I responded.

Estelle started pouring her concoction into our glasses when Casey exclaimed from the couch. "Oh my God. Laurel, come here." I tried to protest, but she kept insisting.

"What are you even watching?" I asked as she rewinded the tv.

"Just shut up and look." She finally pressed play and I realized why she was so insistent.

"In recent news, Chris Evans is back in LA after finishing up filming on The Avengers. And it seems like he's back with Mystery Woman from earlier this year." The disembodied narrator spoke as a picture of Chris and I at dinner when we saw each other again was plastered on the tv. As much as I hated it, it was a great picture. The two of us were mid-laugh, but he was looking right at me and the look on his face... I don't even know how to describe it.

I could feel all my friends eyes on me as I sat there looking at the tv, trying to figure out what I was thinking. I turned to Casey. "It's okay, really. I honestly can't be surprised about it anymore so it is what it is. Now let's completely ignore this and get back to getting drunk."

And drunk we got. Jules and Casey passed out in the living room and Estelle and I covered them with blankets and brought out a wastebasket just in case. After I said goodnight to Estelle and went into my room, I saw that I had two unread texts, one from Adam and one from Chris.

Adam

I should be back from my conference on Thursday, wanna get together next weekend?

I closed out of that conversation without answering and opened Chris' message.

Chris

Are you free tomorrow night?

Laurel

Depends on what the activity is.

Chris

How good are you at planning parties? I've been roped in to hosting a Halloween party this year and I think I'm in way over my head.

Laurel

I guess I'm coming to your rescue.

*****

So we were friends.

And it was fine. We were making it work.

It wasn't like we were spending all our time together either. We would see each other a couple times a month, and everything was normal. Well, I wanted to seem like everything was normal. I had told myself that I didn't have feelings for Chris anymore as an excuse to get to see him and not feel guilty about it. That didn't work so well for me.

I rang Chris' doorbell and was greeted by his bulldog running up to the door and barking at full force. I saw Chris sprint after him and scoop him up before opening the door. "Someone is very excited to see you." He laughed.

"I'm so happy to see you too, East." I loved on East for a little before I turned to Chris. "Not terrible to see you either." I joked and gave him a hug after he set East back down.

"I guess it's good to know where I stand in this house."

"It's always a good idea to have your priorities straight." We made our way into his living room where he had beers set out for the both of us. "Looks like you do have your priorities all set." I laughed as we sat down on the couch.

"Hey, if I'm gonna be forced to plan this party I might as well find some way to enjoy myself." He grabbed his beer, leaned back into the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

I crossed my arms and stared at him. "I'm glad you're enjoying being able to lounge, but I will not let you invite me here just to plan this whole thing by myself."

He sat up straight and looked me directly in the eye. "You are absolutely correct. No more lazing around it's all work from here on out." I could tell he was purposefully being annoying, but I just rolled my eyes. He relaxed and spoke again. "Okay, where do we start?"

"Well, you should probably make a list so you know what you need to buy. Have you thought about anything that you want so far?" He shook his head. "You are woefully unprepared." I said under my breath. "Let's start with alcohol because that is definitely the most important part of this holiday."

"I could not agree more." He said and leaned forward as I typed out a list on my phone. "Jungle Juice?" He questioned as he inspected my list.

"Look, I know we're not 19 and in college but there's really no better way to get plastered and have fun doing it." I responded.

"Well, I never went to college but maybe this will finally give me that experience I've been yearning for."

The next couple of hours were a mix of us actually planning the party and continuing to catch up from our time apart. Being with him was so easy. It didn't feel like I had to force anything he was genuinely interested in what I had to say. Time had gotten away from us, and before I knew it I got an annoyed text from Estelle saying if I didn't get home in the next 30 minutes she was ordering Chinese without me. "Estelle is threatening to leave me without food tonight, so I should probably get going." I told him as I stood up and grabbed my now long empty beer bottle.

"Shit, when did it get so late?" He got up too and cleared his stuff from the table. "Thanks for helping me out with this." He said as we walked into the kitchen. "I would not have been able to get my shit together enough to actually plan this as well as you did."

"I'm always available to come to the rescue. This better mean I'm on the invite list though."

"No, I was really just using you for your planning skills. I didn't actually want to see you there." He joked and I playfully slapped his arm. "Of course not." He said through laughs. "If anyone deserves the credit for planning what will definitely be the best party I've ever thrown it will have to be you."

"You're lucky I'm not asking to be paid for my services." I poked his chest, trying to come of as intimidating but it clearly didn't work.

"I'm extremely lucky." He said and held onto my arm. We locked eyes with each other and both fell quiet, unconsciously drifting closer together until we could feel each other's breath. He leaned down and lingered just before my face. Those few seconds felt like hours until I finally closed the distance between us and our lips crashed together. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer in to him. I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled him deeper into the kiss. I had tried to forget how amazing kissing him felt, but I knew now that I never would. Everything about it was perfect. Every part of me felt alive and ready for whatever might happen. No one else could make me feel like that.

We pulled apart and I tried to catch my breath. It took me a few seconds to really realize what had happened. "Oh fuck." I muttered and stepped away from him, his arms falling away from me and back to his sides.

"Shit. Laurel, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

I didn't even know how to respond so I stood in the kitchen across from him, silent for what felt like years. "I should go." I said suddenly and walked back into the living room to grab my things.

He stopped me at the door before I could leave. "Please don't be mad. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not mad. I just-" I took a deep breath. "I just need to think about something. But I'll see you at the party." I smiled at him and walked out to my car.

I needed to figure out what the fuck I was feeling and fast otherwise I'd be caught in a mess that I did not want to deal with.