#I'm sorry this is so rambly it's 1 am. also sorry that it's so late I am an infant with no object permanence

[bleuberrygliscor]

If I see g*nshin imp*ct shit outside of my like, two mutuals I allow through my filters so I can keep up with Ateru, I am reporting it as spam.

[scarletwix]

any tips on where to get a nice pair o' cowboy boots? >:)

You bet your sweet bippy I do!

So the long and short of it is that, unfortunately for folks like me who hate doing anything new in person, you're going to have to go into a store if you want anything worth the time or money.

Now, I'm going to start by saying that these boots, if you get them from the right places, will be an investment. I say this because you're going to walk in that store, see the price, and walk right back out. But if I may remind you of the Vimes Theory of Boots:

The reason that the rich were so rich, Vimes reasoned, was because they managed to spend less money. Take boots, for example. He earned thirty-eight dollars a month plus allowances. A really good pair of leather boots cost fifty dollars. But an affordable pair of boots, which were sort of OK for a season or two and then leaked like hell when the cardboard gave out, cost about ten dollars. Those were the kind of boots Vimes always bought, and wore until the soles were so thin that he could tell where he was in Ankh-Morpork on a foggy night by the feel of the cobbles. But the thing was that good boots lasted for years and years. A man who could afford fifty dollars had a pair of boots that’d still be keeping his feet dry in ten years’ time, while the poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent a hundred dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet. - Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms

But once that knee-jerk instinct of "I can't spend that much on boots" gets out of the way, you will find yourself in potential possession of the longest lasting, most comfortable pair of boots you'll be able to find. They're made for working in, even the fancy-looking ones. They're not marked up for bougie reasons, they're fairly priced because they're good quality and well-made, kind of like a crocheted blanket from someone who hand-makes them.

"But why does that mean I have to go into the store?" Well, I'll tell you: because the sizing is going to depend on your feet. 'Standard' sizing for shoes is wonky at the best of times, and if this is a purchase you're going to be spending upwards of $100 on, you want to make sure they fit.

as for the actual answer to your question: Tack shops.

Generally speaking, you can google "western shop" and generally find a couple of good options, but there are some near me that turned out to be uhh.... how do I say this... the city's idea of what country clothes look like. we're talking flannel that I could put my finger through, 150-buck jeans with rhinestones on the ass, for those moments you just decide that you never want to sit comfortably again. That sort of thing.

On the other hand! You know who's never going to bullshit about what they are? A shop specifically for horse riding.

There's a tack shop near me, because the city I live in is the perfect intersection of "bumfuck nowhere" and "fifteen minutes from everything" so we've got all the amenities, such as a Fred Meyer and neighbors with horses. (However, thanks to the house I live in, we can't get delivery OR ambulance service, so wish me luck the next time I fall down the stairs.) If it wouldn't basically doxx me, I'd share the name of the store, because I had such a pleasant experience there!

Depending on where you live, nonny, you might be able to find loads of places that sell good ones! When I lived in WY, they were uhh,, everywhere. Everyone sold them, because everyone needed them. But we also had a library that a nerdy kid could read through like blazes, so that should tell you the sort of town I lived in. (Small. It was small.) When I lived in Boise... not so much!

A good rule of thumb, though, is to check the brands. Unlike most other things, you're not paying for the label, the brands are known because they're trusted to be good. Check for things by Ariat or Tecovas, for example.

And don't be afraid to ask the folks at your western or tack shop, because they will be genuinely delighted to help you. I've never met nicer people than those that work in tack shops. They'll help you decide, for example, what height you want (ankle, calf, knee, etc.), what tip type (Square, rounded, snip, broad, etc.), and what style! (That's just if you want something with a fun pattern, something for riding, or something for everyday wear).

I wear mine at least once a week, and they were comfortable enough to wear out of the store and haven't had any of the usual "breaking in new shoes" problems that folks are wary of (It's me, I'm folks, I literally have scars from pairs of flats lol).

anyway, that's kind of a long, convoluted answer to say: it depends! If you've got more specific questions, though, I'm more than happy to help there as well.

Anyway, I'll leave you with a gif I found when I searched "cowboy" that is probably my new motto:

[factual-fantasy]

23-ish Asks! :DD Fun pictures ahead!

--!!FNAF MOVIE SPOILERS!!--

@mbm-artist @pinkbomb08 @tadssstrange

AH! Happy Halloween! Sorry I am late to respond to you trick or treaters. I have been really busy lately with a project. For your patience and for waiting at my door step for several days- I reward you with only the finest delicacies I have to offer,

Be sure to devour it all in 1 sitting ya hear? :}

@jackal-lantern @trotg2367

I have seen the FNAF movie. And I have more negative things to say than positive <XD

The positive things being, MAT PAT YEAAAAHHHH- The first spook with Bonnie following the formula of the first game was THE BEST THING EVER. I'm so glad that Markiplier was fully intended to be a part of the movie. Its a bummer that he couldn't make it but its the thought that counts. <:) (He was busy working on Iron Lung and the schedules just didn't line up. He explains it all in this stream-)

Now for the negatives. Oh boy <XD Out of order- the movie wasn't nearly as scary as I expected. I was kind'a disappointed really. That 1 tense scene with Bonnie disappearing off stage was EXCELLENT but otherwise the scares were kind'a lackluster.. I feel like the scare with Foxy running down the hall needed the added sound of his thumping foot steps getting louder as they approached. Like in the game. That would have been scarier to me and would have been a call back, like Bonnie! Although I do appreciate that it was added at all. I would have been more disappointed if there wasn't a Foxy running down the hall scene <XD

Of course I wasn't a fan of the carbon copy of Vanessa being Williams daughter for obvious lore reasons. I didn't like how much the animatronics moved and how blatantly alive they were. It took away so much of the horror for me. Also how quickly Mike just.. accepted that they were ghosts?? It took like 3 minutes to convince him. I wished they had stuck with the scares and the atmosphere of the first game. It would have been a lot scarier to me that way. Also not even mentioning the missed scare of someone opening one of their stomachs and finding a dead child all disfigured and crammed inside..

Also the animatronics looked FANTASTIC, although.. considering that Freddy's has been shut down for a while. Wouldn't they be a bit more worn? Like, they're in mint condition. While the building around them is in shambles and dirty. You could say Vanessa has been keeping up the maintenance, but I still think they'd show some age.. also missed opportunity to make them scarier by making them look like the withers! Bonnie's face falling off to show a disfigured childs face behind?? Dude the missed potential!

I also don't like the inclusion if Springtrap for lore reasons. That happens later! Also WHY is the Spring Bonnie suit all worn and messed up? That happens AFTER he gets spring locked! People would still know its William/Springtrap without making the suit already worn and old- GAAHHH! I could ramble on and on about all the stupid little nit picks I have about this movie. I have been a fan for a long time and had high expectations. But that doesn't mean I should rip this movie to shreds.

I gotta stop looking at all the down sides and really focus on the things I loved. The animatronics looked amazing, they were perfect. Especially Foxy. The inclusion/intended inclusion of Mat Pat, Markiplier and Cory(?) was wonderful. And a total surprise to me! The movie wasn't as bad as I feared it would be. It definitely wasn't as bad as it could have been. And for that I am grateful.

Overall I give ittt.... mmmm, a 5-6 out of 10..? <:D

Over the span of 10 years? Yeah.. likely 100s.. :(

I kind'a imagined the mirrors as like.. pressing the walls of two timelines/AUs together and poking a hole through them. There isn't really a space in between, its like a doorway. Now that's not to say that those void spaces don't exist- I'm just saying that how I imagined Jevil mirrors to work.

Could poking those metaphorical holes in the walls of an AU be more.. literal? Could Jevil going in and out of an AU multiple times eventually harm it in someway? Who knows.. Jevil would rather not dwell on it <XD

You're right on the money pal. All of Jevils food is given to Seam. He wont eat unless Seam has eaten. He wont sleep unless Seam is already asleep. He cant sleep when he tries but still All their new clothes and blankets go right to Seam. If they're camping out in the woods? Jevil will stay awake the whole night to keep the fire going.

Its really hard for Seam to see Jevil like this. Seam tries really hard to cover up when he's uncomfortable or unwell. He tries to keep up an image and tries to reassure Jevil that he's alright. But sometimes he just cant. Sometimes he's so hungry he's doubled over in pain with tears welling in his eye. Sometimes he's aching so much that he cant move. Sometimes he's so cold he loses feeling in his hands and feet..

He cant hide it then. And he cant convince Jevil that he needs to eat too. That he needs sleep too. Its really hard for the both of them..

Thaaaat would not work for my Seam <XD

My Seam is more of an organic creature rather than a stuffed doll. Cutting off his hands would just cause him to bleed. A lot. And without a powerful Darkener that can heal, I don't know if they could be reattached-

Peach/Mario and Daisy/Luigi are like, the ONLY exceptions I can think of. Both of those pairings are like, 99% canon/heavily suggested. If not just straight up canon.

Also unlike other ships/canon stuff, I really like those two pairings. I think they're neat :}

Its hard to say who had the worse punishment. I mean, suffering is suffering. And if you asked Seam, he'd say Jevil suffered more. And if you asked Jevil he'd say Seam suffered more. I guess its a matter of what you think is worse.

Jevil was locked away for years, by his own best friend. That magical aura that used to be his only comfort was now oppressing him. He was locked away with no contact with anyone for years. Except maybe occasionally King would venture down there and beat him up. Just to make Seam upset or becuase he just felt like it.

He was alone for years. It was dark, cold, and maddening. Always on the edge of starving and living in fear everyday that King would come back and beat him up again. His best friend had betrayed him.. yet he was still scared for Seam. He was all alone up there. Who knows how the King is treating him.. it was horrible..

Then you have Seam. Forced between a rock and a hard place. He betrayed his best friend and has lived with the crushing guilt ever since. He tried to visit Jevil to apologize, to explain himself- but he was caught.

His eye was gouged out and his mouth stitched shut. His neck and wrists were bound by shackles. He did his very best to bend to the Kings will. In hopes that King would not hurt him. But it was never enough. Seam suffered constant abuse by the King for years. The shackles drained his energy but he was still required to preform for the King. Its like King was toying with him, trying to see how far he would bend before breaking.

It took Jevil disappearing from his cell to break him. Seam thought that Jevil had died. His best friend. Who he had wronged and locked away, just died. All alone in a cell that he made.

As if it couldn't get worse. King accused him of letting Jevil go. And he was going to be punished for it. With Jevil dead, and a no doubt horrible punishment awaiting him.. there was nothing left to live for.. so he tried to.. well. You know..

Thankfully Jevil showed up just in time and got them both out of there! Ahahahahh aaaa <:DDDD Yeahh,,,,

Yes! Exactly! :D I go off the idea that Undertale and Deltarune are the "original" timelines. And everyone from my AU is from some kind of offshoot of those two timelines.

The chains don't make him sick to his stomach thankfully. But they do make him weaker in every way. His immune system is weakened, so he's more vulnerable to catching viruses.

His energy is also completely sapped. He feels sore and hungry all the time. He likely deals with back and shoulder pain due to the neck shackle and having to hold up his arms all the time.. :(

As much as Asgore might want to give that wretched King a piece of his mind.. Asgore isn't a fool. If he ever encountered the King, his immediate goal would be to get himself, and the rest of the group as far away from him as possible.

He didn't mistake him for another Spade King no,, but Seam and Jevil immediately noticed his royal vibe/appearance and was rather unsettled.. :{

@neojet280

Awww, the gang take big sleepies :}}

Grillby does eventually come around and apologize for beatin up Jevil. Jevil is quick to forgive him and states there's no hard feelings. :}

Thankfully Jevil does end up fully healing with minimal to no scarring. The burns looked pretty bad but Jevil was only held for a few seconds. Plus Darkeners probably heal differently so I'd like to say he ended up just fine :} 👍

I wasn't able to find the sketches I made of this--

But what I had in mind was DA was like this giant flat sun/moon with 2 white gloved, disembodied hands. He looks like this basically-

He is attached to the ceiling/walls and probably roams around playing music and monitoring everything. His personality is somewhat the same but he's more mellow and relaxed. He runs the arcade naturally.

I pictured DJMM looking like my Glamrock DJ but clown themed maybe? His proportions could be different and maybe his face is changed up a bit.. but overall its just DJ as a clown and he runs the daycare. His personality is mostly the same but he's more energetic.

@tallchest13-blog

XD I'm thinking that King will get what's coming to him eventually..

(Also thank you so much! :}})

The sad part about that is Seam isn't even that old. He's maybe in his 40-50s I imagined. He just looks so much older because all the stress and abuse has really weighed him down/aged him.. :'(((

Almost,, but no. Typically a generational gap is measured by 15-20 years. I imagined that the age gap between Seam and Jevil to be around 10-15 years or so..? So not quite intergenerational. :/

@soft-kachan

That miiiiiight make his grief worse..? I'm no expert on grief thankfully- but I imagine having a plushie that looks like your dead child miiiight stunt the healing process..?

What Grillby needs is to heal and move on from those deaths. So maybe not a plush of his child, but just a plush of something in general? Something that he can hold/hug when he needs too. If not that maybe Seam could make use of that fire proof fabric and make him some new clothes? 👀

@petra-creat0r

AAAAAA THANK YOUU SO MUCH!!!! 💗💗😭🍤💗

A while ago I actually drew what I imagine true swap Vanessa to look like! :}

Short-ish blonde hair that's tied up in a ponytail, purple Bonnie sweater and maybe bowling ally friendly yellow sneakers? Bandages on the face and baggy socks, all what you'd expect.

Now for Gregory I imagined his hair is cut neat and short. Maybe he's totally clean shaven as well. He's unusually neat and spiffy.. Almost like he's trying to keep up a clean and organized image..? 👀

His backstory will probably be similar/the same as Vanessa's. And his costume will probably be based off Fredbear instead of Spring Bonnie. Not sure what his other name would be though.. 🤔

@beryl-shade

This post I made talks all about Grillby's color changes and what they mean. So I'll take a snip bit of it! :}

If its hard to read the TLDR is that he's sad and burning very hot. :( Though the Deltarune AU Grillby is less "I'm sad :( I burn hotter now" and more "I am overcome with grief and have completely lost control of my body" :x

[thatonegirlwhowrites]

Pretty Boy || Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve and you aren’t currently talking, but after he shows up on your door step after a rough night, emotions start flowing and apologizes are made.

Pairing: Steve x Fem!Reader

Requested: no

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, anxiety, kissing, no spoilers for season 4

Notes: requests are still open guys!! I’m working on a few rn!!

Masterlist

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Steve Harrington was currently in his car outside of your house, debating on if he should get out and knock on the door or not. He knew your parents weren't home tonight, but it was currently 1 in the morning, and he wasn't even sure if you were still awake.

He had gotten in a particularly grueling fight with his dad, leaving him with a split lip and bruised ribs. Steve and his dad fought quite a bit, but it had never gotten that bad.

Naturally, you were the first person that came to his mind, knowing you could instantly calm his nerves, but he had also forgotten the two of you were not currently on speaking terms.

It started a week ago when you had accidentally overheard Steve talking about you to Robin basically confessing his love for you. You had tried to talk about it with him, but he hadn't given you a chance before he rambled off some shitty excuse that ‘he would never be into you and that you were ‘crazy for thinking that had ever come out of his mouth’.

Of course, none of those words held any truth, but you had no clue Steve simply said that to avoid the inevitable outcome that you just didn't love him as he loved you. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you as a friend…which ironically had happened anyways.

He had been pretty quick to realize how much of an idiot he was when you stormed out of a family video with tears in your eyes. He had tried to stop you, but it was no use.

So now he had two options.

Go drive around until he finds a place to park his car and go to sleep.

Knock on your door and deal with his feelings.

The first option was most certainly the easiest, but he knew you at least deserved to know the truth, and with that revelation he walked up to your front door, wincing with every step he took.

The first knock was soft, hoping that maybe if you didn't answer the door he could say he tried and avoid this whole situation.

His hand moved reluctantly back to the door to knock again but before he was able to the door was pulled open revealing you standing there with wide eyes.

The last thing you had been expecting was for Steve Harrington to show up on your doorstep looking like he had just got beaten up after a week of not talking. ANy anger you had held for the boy dissipated within seconds when you saw the defeated look on his face.

“Steve, w-what 's going on?” You stood aside letting him know it was okay to come into the house.

He stepped in with a sigh, “I-uh-I just-.” He completely blanked. Not knowing exactly how to say how he was feeling, which is something he often found difficulty with.

“You can't just show up at 1 am all beaten up after you majorly insulted me barely even a week ago and not tell me what's going on.” There was still no anger present on your face.

Steve could feel himself start to break. His words had affected you more than he had realized and on top of everything going on with his dad…it was a lot.

“Dad and I got in a fight and it escalated. I-I wasn't really sure where to go.” His voice was low and he refused to make eye contact with you as he focused on his fidgeting hands.

“God, I'm such an ass.” You mumbled quietly to yourself regretting everything you had just said a moment ago, “I-I’m sorry, I had no idea. A-Are you okay?” Usually, conversations flowed easily between the two of you, but you were struggling to find the right words.

“Please don't apologize. If anyone should be apologizing it's me.” He had decided to avoid the ‘are you okay’ question for now, mostly because he honestly didn't know the answer.

“Steve, we don't have to w-worry about that right now, it's late. I'll just get you fixed up and-” you attempted to derail the subject trying to avoid getting your heart stomped all over again, but Steve was quick to interrupt, “No I need to worry about it now. I need to tell you the truth.” He had now taken a step closer to you, hoping you could see that he was being genuine.

“Listen I get it okay, I don't know why I would ever think you would be in love with me. Let's please not relieve my embarrassment, okay? I'm over it.” You tried in the gentlest way possible to end the conversation, but it was clear Steve had very different plans.

“Y/n please listen to me. I'm literally the biggest idiot on the face of the planet. I-I am in love with you! I just said all that shit because I was afraid of your reaction…Afraid that you would tell me you didn't love me like I loved you, and that our friendship wouldn't work now. I was so fucking stupid because we haven't even talked in a week and here I am bringing this mess into your life.” He had gone off on a bit of a tangent, feeling almost like he couldn't stop sharing the way he felt now that it was finally out in the open.

Your heart was currently doing flips inside your chest, immediately feeling with relief and happiness, “Yeah you really are an idiot because I could have told you a week ago that I loved you too.”

To say Steve was surprised was an understatement, “Y-You love me?” He swore he could cry right now.

“Yeah, I do.”

Suddenly everything just felt a little bit heavier. The reality of what had gone down just really set it. “I-I'm sorry for just springin’ all of this on you. I should have just dealt with it on my own.” He couldn't even allow himself time to be happy about the fact that you loved him back.

Your heart felt like it could shatter any moment knowing this is how Steve truly felt, almost as if he were a burden.

“Steve Harrington, I don't wanna hear that ever come out of your mouth ever again. You don't have to deal with any of this on your own. I love you for a reason, so let me be here for you.” Steve almost melted on the sweet sound of your voice reassuring him.

The only thing he could focus on was the look on your face, and specifically how bad he wanted to kiss you.

“Nope. Steve, stop looking at me like that! I know what you are about to do and I'm not letting our first kiss be all bloody.” You pointed to the fresh blood still coming from the inside of his lip.

Warmth immediately spread to his face, slightly embarrassed that you had noticed how much he was staring at your lips.

“C-Can I use your shower?” He half-smiled.

Several minutes later Steve had gotten into the shower and you had made your way to your bedroom taking in a deep breath.

Despite the happiness that you two had shared, learning that you loved one another, there was still the reason he really showed up at your house in the first place. So you made a mental note to test the waters and see if he was up to talking about it though you had almost lost every thought in your head when Steve walked into your room with wet hair and no shirt.

Your eyes were glued to his chest, unable to think properly.

Steve was quick to notice where your line of vision, “Y/n! Don't look at me like that!” He gasped while dramatically pulling his arms over his chest to give himself some coverage.

You should have probably seen that one coming, “Okay, you got me.”

For the first time all night, Steve had actually cracked a real smile, immediately sending one to your face as well.

“Come sit.” Your voice was more serious after the laughter died down.

Steve didn't hesitate even a second before he was sitting closely next to you, his thigh touching yours.

“Please talk to me.” Steve knew exactly where this was going.

He wasn't sure if it was your gentle voice or the fact it was just you and him but he felt safe to share what had happened, “You know how much of an asshole dad is. We can never agree on anything and ever since I started paying for all of my own things I stood up a bit more and I guess he had just had enough. I'm honestly not surprised it happened, it just hurts like a bitch.” The last part was meant to be light-hearted but you couldn't help but let your eyes drift to his swollen lip and then to his bruised side.

“Fuck him. You deserve way more than both your mom and your dad,” you were making contact with him now, “I know it was hard for you to tell me how you were feeling tonight but I just want you to know how much it means to me that you trust me enough to talk about this stuff. I love you endlessly and I always will.” your hand gently caressed the side of his face. He leaned his head deeper into your hold and shut his eyes for a moment.

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“Can I please kiss you now?”

You simply nodded your head as he leaned in fully this time. Your lips gently connected, moving perfectly slow. You both had thought about kissing each other countless times, so you were careful not to rush the moment and truly just enjoy being this close to each other.

Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, your fingers running through his hair.

His hands had wrapped themselves snuggly around your waist, pulling you both deeper into the kiss.

Butterflies were swirling wildly in your stomach as Steve began smiling into the kiss, which then caused you to do the same. Your foreheads came together as you both held smiles on your faces.

“As much as I just want to stay like this forever, we should probably get you into some clothes.” You were giddy as you hesitantly pulled out of his grasp.

You walked over to your dresser pulling out a shirt he had left at your house a few weeks ago.

You tossed it gently to him for him to throw on, but he must have tried to put it on too quickly because he let out a loud wince.

“Easy there, pretty boy.” You smiled while pulling the shirt the rest of the way over him so he could gently put his arms back down without any more pain.

When you could see his face again, he was blushing terribly mostly because of the nickname you had let slip out so easily.

“Don't ever stop calling me that.” He hummed in contentment, pulling you back onto the bed with him.

This time you were both lying down, you cuddled into Steve as much as you could without hurting his side.

“I love you,” He tenderly whispered in your ear as his body finally melted into yours.

“And I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“What happened to pretty boy?”

“You're always my pretty boy.”

[prince-liest]

Omg, I just wanted to say I ADORE your characterization of Al and Vox! I don't even have the words to express how much I love reading your stuff, especially the Anon responses you post on here. The behind the scenes thoughts are literally my food, lifesource, its so good when people not only write characters IN CHARACTER, but also include stuff about their analysis/understanding of the character too.. I'm literally obsessed with breaking down characters and yk, cracking their chrome domes open to see how they work (which admittedly, I am not the best at <_< but I love reading them). Just wanted to say how much I love your writing. I had maybe 2 questions, please don't feel pressured to answer them :>

What in your mind (in reference to the 66.6 fics) would motivate Alastor to let Val get close to him in the first place? Or was that more you picking these two characters up by the scruff of their necks and plopping them into a hypothetical scenario to explore their character and write some fun intimate thingsTM?

What do you think of the dynamic of Vox and Al vs something like Lucifer and Al? Personally I've noticed that something Alastor craves, behind the mask of his static smiling persona, is attention. He's (at least how I saw it) usually peeved when people don't care about his absence, and seems especially bothered by the King of Hell refusing to really acknowledge him, so he goes out of his way to push Lucifers buttons (like calling himself a father figure to Charlie, IN FRONT OF HER ACTUAL FATHER LOL) whereas with Vox, Vox is literally CONSTANTLY thinking about Alastor. Man literally interrupted his regular TV program to do a segment about how much he totally didn't at ALL care about Alastors dissapearance or the fact that he returned (suree buddy). So Alastor can have more fun with him and annoy him by ignoring and messing with him on purpose.

ty if you do respond to this, sorry if it was hard to understand, sometimes I forget how to put the thoughts in my brain into coherent words!

Ahhhh, thank you very much, anon! I'm especially happy that you're enjoying my commentary on Tumblr, haha - I spent a while on Twitter because that's where all the fandom zines I was in were being hosted, but nothing beats Tumblr for giving me a nigh-unlimited word count and a captive audience for my rambling! >:D <3 I'm back to cocooning myself on the OG hell site.

Thank you for this ask, it really brightened my day! :D

As for your questions:

1. I'm assuming that was a typo and that you mean Vox (but in case you did mean Val: that was just a funny accident of him walking by the room! Alastor wasn't paying enough attention until it was too late), and to that I say:

I think Alastor allows Vox to take a go at him in canon because he finds Vox's obsession with him to be entertaining, but also because Alastor is kind of a narcissist and that same obsession massively feeds his ego, especially in a political climate that otherwise forgot about Alastor. Vox's whole "Who gives a shit about Alastor coming back?! Haha, now let me have a public meltdown and short out power to the whole city about it! Oh, fuck, why is he back, though?? Can we send a spy in to find out??" is exactly the reaction that Alastor wants every time he mentions his mysterious absence and gets brushed off.

At the same time, Alastor doesn't seem to register Vox as a sincere and genuine threat. He's a big enough fish in the Pride Ring pond that his obsession with Alastor is gratifying, but Alastor's self-absorption also doesn't really allow him to treat Vox as a threat tier above "annoying in a funny way, and also television is stupid." (Perhaps this will change in season 2... :eyes: (or perhaps Alastor will get Even Worse) (please god let him get even worse))

So those two things in combination make Vox the perfect candidate for Alastor to experiment with while maintaining his ego and not feeling particularly threatened. Despite Vox's Safeword 101 talk, Alastor would never put stock into that system with Vox unless he was certain that he himself would be able to back up a 'no' with overwhelming force. Him even considering safewords in the Live On Air! series is less for his own sake and more a politesse he offers on Vox's request to warn Vox to slow the fuck down before Alastor tries to put his insides on the outside.

2. And in direct contrast, we have Lucifer...

... Who Alastor obviously actually cares quite a bit about, because he's a whole nother power tier from both Vox and Alastor, and furthermore and possibly even more importantly, a credible threat to Alastor's relationships and standing in the hotel. I think a lot of discussion I see about Alastor prodding Lucifer seems to talk about how quickly he got annoyed about Lucifer's comments, but that misses the fact that he was pissed off before Lucifer even showed up. He got pissy the moment he saw the welcome sign, actually! And I wager that he was narratively absent for the scene where Charlie actually calls Lucifer because he would have done his best to manipulate her out of doing so had be been there.

And given that the two clearly haven't met before (though obviously Alastor knows of Lucifer - and hates that the inverse isn't true, hah), it's not 100% clear exactly why he's immediately so annoyed, but in my personal view of things and barring something like "he's projecting onto Lucifer because his contract is with Lilith," I think that what we know of Alastor's personality points most strongly to "he liked being the hotel's benefactor and sees it as His Project, and doesn't like the idea that Charlie called daddy for something that she thought mysterious, powerful Alastor couldn't handle." He distracts a lot with obviously-goading comments about practically being Charlie's dad in his duet with Lucifer, but underneath that he puts a lot of emphasis on the work he's done for the hotel and the fact that he's been supporting Charlie and the hotel from the start, so why the fuck is this deadbeat asshole suddenly turning up?!

Tl;dr: Charlie missed her insight roll on Alastor's personal investments and he's sooooo offended - and taking it out on Lucifer!

I think one of my favorite things about both Lucifer and Alastor is that they both sooo obviously belong in the Pride Ring, hahaha.

[winterxgardener]

What makes Shourtney stand out to me (as a possible couple) is that despite all the LA influences and insane talent, they kinda seem like two people you could see hanging out in your neighborhood. They are so special but normal at the same time if that makes sense.

I also feel that neither of them are particularly great at hiding their true feelings about people and things around them - and I love that about them. I'm sure they do a loooooot of self-censoring but at the same time, have hard time maintaining a proper poker face.

Actually, there are some 2019-2020 videos where Courtney and Shayne start acting silly/flirty together, and the other person in the room (usually Ian and Damien) has a slightly amused but uncomfortable "here we go again" expression on their face. The expression is so relatable 'cause I've been in similar situations myself at the workplace and kept thinking "you guys really need to do something about this romantic tension 'cause we have a meeting with the boss in two minutes and she might have some questions". So awkward but hilarious at the same time.

Similarly to the previous anon, I also wish we could hear their own experience at some point since what we discuss here in Tumblr, is mainly just speculation/interpretation. Even if it turns out that Shourtney never happened and we shippers have been living in delulu, I'd still love to hear what their shared journey has been (bts) since it feels like they rarely talk about their friendship/something-else-ship anymore. Ian and Anthony discuss their friendship frequently in videos, Shayne and Damien make references to their shared past experiences from time to time, and I've even heard Amanda and Angela commenting on how close friends they are. But I can not remember the last time Shayne and Courtney had even a brief discussion about them as a duo, despite being one of the more iconic ones.

I actually think that it was the contradiction between their non-verbal language and verbal treatment of each other that led me to speculate (1-2 years ago) that something is going on bts. For me their "heart eyes" alone are not really a proof of anything since they keep looking at half the cast with similar endearment. However, I found it weird that they would look at each other so lovingly (at least in brief moments) but rarely ever say anything friend-like directly to each other or even act politely, like normal coworkers. Some people will explain that with their long friendship but they are close with Damien and Ian as well and rarely act in the same contradictory way with them. I just can't explain that with anything else but "something's going on".

As a background info: I started my Smosh journey with videos from 2022 and 2023, and initially, knew nothing about the Shourtney shipping that happened in late 2010s. Despite this (or because of it?) I sensed something between them and was not surprised to hear that they might be more than just coworkers. However, I def understand why shippers got a bad rep in Defy era because I can not sense the same chemistry between them in older videos and would have needed a fair amount of delulu to convince myself that they are together. Nowadays, it's the other way around: you need to make a lot of mental acrobics to explain why they are most probably just friends.

Btw, sorry for a long, not-so-cohesive ramble on this. I'm writing this in a sleepy mode, and am not sure myself what is the red thread of this anymore. :D

I am speechless while reading this. What do you mean by 'not cohesive'? This is a well-structured narrative. 🤯🤯

I agree that between 2019 and 2021, Shourtney appeared different, especially during their Twitch streams since they were unedited, unlike now, where they can easily censor or edit some of their moments.

Regarding their chemistry, from 2015 to 2018, it was just full-blown flirting as friends. (I don't know if I'm just being delusional), but something changed in 2019.🙉🙈

[luvsae]

my beautiful lover | ryohei arisu

arisu x gn!reader

fluff :)

the keys in arisu's hands jingled as he managed to unlock the door to your shared apartment.

he had come back from hanging out with his friends, karube and chota, and all he wanted to do was spend some more time with you.

you two were supposed to hang out but your boss had called you in since someone called in sick.

arisu wasn't mad though, since he knows you're very serious about work.

you were disappointed that you two weren't able to hang out, but arisu insisted that it was okay. besides, you could always spend time together during the night.

"y/n? you home?" arisu asked aloud. his eyes scanned the living room and kitchen. "hm."

he placed his shoes near the door before walking further into thr apartment. you weren't on the couch or in the kitchen, and there was no shower running.

arisu then walked into your shared bedroom - his eyes landing on your sleeping body on the bed.

his heart melted at the sight of you.

that's when his eyes widened and he pulled out his phone to check the time. 1:32 am.

a soft sigh escaped him as he set his phone down. he didn't mean to stay out so late but his friends forced him to stay.

arisu quickly changed into his sleeping clothes and got into bed with you.

you shifted beside him as you opened your eyes. "arisu?"

"hi baby." he brought the covers over the both of you before he kissed your cheek. "go back to sleep, okay? it's late."

you nodded lazily as you set your head back onto the warm pillow. arisu cuddled up beside you, laying his arm around your waist.

a smile spread across your face - your lover was finally beside you after a long day, this is all you've wanted.

you felt his soft hand rubbing small circles around yours - he was always so happy to be with you.

a kiss was placed on your exposed arm (since you were wearing a tanktop) it tickled your skin, making you smile more.

"i can't sleep when you're kissing me." you teased, earning a quiet laugh from arisu.

"i'm sorry. i missed you a lot. i also didn't realize i would be out this late." arisu rambled on which made you turn around to face him.

you couldn't see him since it was now completely dark, but you knew he was looking at you.

"let's hang out tomorrow. i don't have work." you spoke in a quiet voice. "but for now we need our rest."

arisu gave you one last kiss and hummed in affirmation.

"goodnight, arisu."

"goodnight, beautiful."

[alice1505]

I made the mistake of rewatching Sherlock because I never did finish it back in the day (I was -clenches fist- seething over the queerbaiting and rage quit after not fully watching episode 1 of s4) and I'm here to make my side hyperfixation (what year is this??? Who am I???) Tumblr's problem. The more I sit with s4, the less I like it 😂 There were pieces and elements I liked, but overall, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Forgive me if any or all if these points have been talked to death, I missed all the discourse and I'm hella late, but I need to flail and send my thoughts into the void because what even WAS that season? I can't believe I avoided it for years, got drawn in by a couple of tiktoks making fun (affectionately) of superwholock Era and That Scene about the fucking phone charger port, binged all of it, only to be left with..... that. Not nearly as disappointing or rage inducing as spn's ending but by God, did it leave a hole in me. So please ignore my rambling thoughts as I slap them down here for my own sanity.

• First and foremost, what - and I can't stress this enough - the fuck was UP with the assassination of John's entire character???? What was that??? Why????

• Related to that point - I can appreciate the angst point and potential it provides, as I'm reading many, many fics, but AYO WHY didn't anyone rip John an entire new one for that beat down he did on Sherlock????? Hello???? 911?????

• Tell me why everything felt so stilted and borderline icy. Like I get the high emotions and shit, but after a certain point... 😭 was there a falling out between Benedict and Martin that I'm not aware of? Did they just try to ungay everything so hard and were so pissed at the audience picking up everything THAT THEY PUT???? into this show and their interactions that they just hit the brakes hard enough to make everything feel weird???

• A lot of it felt weird. Off kilter a little. Forced in some places, toned down in others (and toned down where it shouldn't have been), a nod to ships but weirdly/hatefully??? Idk if that makes sense. Like the whole Sherlock and Molly phone call (I do not mean any hate to this ship, I really hope it doesn't come off this way. Not my cup of tea but you are valid). Why was Molly so upset BEFORE the call? Did I miss something? Also I don't personally think or feel she'd still have those feelings for him??? I??? I am bamboozled.

• to that whole point, Eurus was.... Hmm. Mmmm. She was. Something. (Confused derogatory)

• I like Mary as a character. I also hated her. (Definitely biased by my shipper trash ass self for johnlock, I'm sorry). Wtf were those messages, please. Edit: AND ANOTHER THING. John's reaction to Sherlock's death - awful, gut wrenching, beautiful, my heart breaks with and for him, utterly devasting. John's reaction to Mary's death - had me sitting there like🧍‍♀️(it was weird. so weird. awkward. w h y. (we know why, but also the acting choices were Something TM, in both cases! for different reasons!) i'm sorry i just can't get past my anger and put off-ness with mary, fun as she could be)

• why did mycroft and John switch roles 😭 pls. The last episode was just. So Much. The lackluster responses from John, to John, to Sherlock, between them, like.... hello???? Who are these people?? Help me. Moriarty saved me for a brief shining moment tho, God bless.

There's more I could spew, but that's what's sitting right at the top of my head. I guess all this just to say, if a show runner/writer really just fucking hates the audience they got (instead of the one they wanted), they probably shouldn't have fucking become a show runner/writer in the first place. Either hand it to someone who can actually handle it and listens, or fuck off. I will never understand when shows and plots and characters gets kamikaze'd because of a show runner being pissy and egotistical. Like ????? Grow up. Learn from Bryan Fuller and Hannibal or something.

Sorry for all the rambling, bless anyone who reads this and makes sense of it 😂

[corrodedseraphine]

perfectly wrong | #1 I wish you hadn't saved me

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

chapter summary: When you all get together to say goodbye to Corroded Coffin before going on tour, the evening ends with a standard argument between you and Steve. The next day, under the influence of a massive hangover, he wonders if he might have overreacted, when he gets called to help with a patient. From a conversation between a doctor and another nurse, he learns that the person who showed up is in a very difficult situation. He was definitely not ready for who he finds there.

TW: mentions of pregnancy, domestic violence, blood, wounds and bruises, let me know if I forgot about something!

The story is also avaliable on ao3

masterlist | steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist

@phantypurple thank you so much for helping me with this whole "enemies" thing, I am new in it and your support really helped me ❤

Before we start!I don't have much knowledge about pregnancy, being a nurse etc, which doesn't change the fact that I will try to do research and write everything in the best way possible, I hope you will forgive me!

In the beginning, everything may seem quite chaotic, I do not hide it and I realize that after reading the first chapter you will be a bit confused and many questions will appear, but with each chapter I will try to develop it and clear up doubts.

Your opinion, feedback, questions or ideas are always welcome! If there is something what would you like to see in the story feel free to tell me about it in comments or in my inbox which is always open for you guys! Thank you so much for reading!

As soon as you crossed the threshold of The Hideout Robin immediately shouted your name. You cut through the crowd of people and with a smile on your lips made your way to your friends. Today was Corroded Coffin's first concert after the "earthquake." When Eddie finally recovered from everything that had happened he couldn't wait m until he returned to the stage. At first everyone thought that after what he experienced in the Upside Down he wouldn't be able to look at a guitar again, but he surprised you all. All the experiences inspired him to write many of the songs that, with the help of the government, will make up the band's first album. So this was the first and last concert for the guys before they set out to follow their dreams. You as good friends couldn't miss it.

"Am I late?" you asked, sitting down between Robin and Argyle. 

"No, they are just getting ready to go on stage. I'm glad you're here." your friend said. 

"I know, Ro. I'm sorry." You said grabbing her hand with a gentle expression on your face. Since your private life had turned everything around you had kept your encounters with other people to a minimum. You isolated yourself completely, however, you couldn't miss today's concert, you knew it was too important to just not come. 

"And who my beautiful eyes see!" Steve shouted and with a loud clang he set down his beer bottle. This was definitely not his first. "Look who has kindly decided to show up!"

"I really don't have the energy for your drama, Steve." You sighed rolling your eyes. 

"Woah! So you know my name?" he fiercely rambled on. 

This is what it looked like. Your relationship with Steve was...complicated. No one expected you to end up at a stage where you couldn't stand each other in the same room. The sarcastic comments from his mouth were something quite gentle anyway. Normally you wouldn't have let it go however today you really didn't have the strength to do so, so you just ignored him and didn't answer anything.

The concert was going nicely, one could say too nicely, considering that for over an hour you didn't hear a single offensive word in your direction, and you really enjoyed your first meeting with friends in a long time. Unfortunately, it was the lull before the storm. 

Steve definitely needed to de-stress, from what Robin told you he had failed a pretty important exam, so he decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Beer after beer he became more and more fussy and irritated. He was like a walking time bomb that went off when you refused Eddie's proposed drink. 

"Now aren't we worthy of you having a drink with us?" he mischievously snorted with laughter. 

"Steve, I really don't have the strength to deal with you tonight." 

"And that's not the case? It seems that instead of having a drink with the people you claim to be your friends you prefer the company of your boyfriend and his pile of alcoholics. Did you start doing drugs with them, too?" he leaned back on his elbows. You knew he wouldn't let go, wouldn't let go until the two of you started arguing and he would pour out all his frustration that way. You could feel your blood boiling inside you and you were feeling breathless. "What? You won't say anything? You always have too much to say." He grinned feeling that he had the upper hand over you.

"Do I look like I want to debate with you?" You snapped. 

"I don't know, through that ton of makeup it's hard to read what your real expression is." 

"Steve!" Robin interrupted you. "Control yourself!"

"You're still defending her?!" He got what he wanted. He got his five minutes. "For the last two weeks she does nothing but ignore you, and then I'm the one who has to hear about how much you miss her! You consider her your friend and she just doesn't give a shit about you! All of you!" 

"It's not true!" you wanted to defend yourself. In truth you really wanted to, but you knew that from their point of view it really all looked like that. 

"Yes? Then what was more important than meeting your friend, what was more important than being there for her when she needed you when Vicky broke her heart?" He knew he was in control and it made him happy. Unhealthy pleasure derived from your embarrassment and confusion. 

"What? Robin, why-" you were shocked. You had no idea. 

"Are you going to ask now why she didn't tell you? Let me explain." He didn't waste a moment to crush you into the ground even more. He was giving you needle after the needle. "She wanted to tell you, but of course you didn't have time for her. I don't even know which hopeless excuse on your part it was then why you supposedly couldn't meet. But no problem, you can rehabilitate yourself and tell the truth now." He crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his satisfied gaze into you. You opened your mouth to say something but quickly closed it and pressed your lips into a thin line. He was right, you yourself no longer remembered which excuse you used then. You were already lost in them, but the truth would not pass your throat for anything in the world. Not when all eyes were on the two of you. Not when Steve humiliated you without considering how many people were around. "That's what I thought. What about Max and El? Did you forget about them too? Do you know that since you stopped helping El with her lessons she barely manages to pass? Do you think you are better than them? You don't deserve any of them. No one!" 

You couldn't stay standing there any longer. Feeling tears coming to your eyes without saying a word, you began to push through the crowd to the exit. You had no idea about Robin, you had no idea about El, you had no idea about anything. Locked in your own tragedy, you also cut yourself off from those who could always count on you and left them without the support they had become so accustomed to. He was right. You hated him for the way he treated you, but you hated yourself even more for the fact that everything he said was the cruel and painful truth. Moreover, by leaving you gave him another reason for which he could haunt you. You didn't stay to say goodbye to Eddie and the rest of the boys before they left. They would only be back in three months, and by then nothing would be the same.

You walked ahead wiping away tears. No matter how much you wanted you couldn't go back there. You weren't able to. Life was crashing down on your head, and his comments and reminders of what a hopeless person you were made you feel even worse. You wanted to disappear. To sink into the ground, to run away somewhere where your problems wouldn't reach you, but this couldn't happen. You were grounded here. Ironically, you would rather be grounded in the Upside Down now than be in your current situation. 

When you arrived at the house you tried to enter as quietly as you could. In your spirit you prayed that your boyfriend, Travis, would already be asleep and not wake up. Unfortunately, fate decided to test your strength once again. Inside you found him sitting in front of the TV and an almost empty bottle of vodka standing on the coffee table. 

"Where the hell have you been?!" he asked as soon as he heard your footsteps in the hallway. At that moment you already knew that a very long night was ahead of you. 

Drinking so much alcohol the day before the morning shift was not a wise idea. Feeling dehydrated and drained of life, he sat in an uncomfortable chair with a face hidden in his hands and a nasty headache. He had just taken a painkiller, so it will have to be a long while before it takes effect. In addition, he couldn't stop thinking about yesterday's events. You never gave up when it came to arguing. Everything always ended in a shouting match. You were never so...quiet? Confused? Lost? You never showed your feelings either. Certainly not in front of him. Nor have you ever walked away with tears in your eyes. Did he exaggerate this time? Guilt slowly crept into his head.

"Tough night?" he heard from behind him. It was Judy, one of the senior nurses who had not run away from Hawkins after everything. She was also one of the better ones who saw him as more than just the Harringtons' son. She treated him like a normal trainee, for which he was grateful.

"Mhmmm." he muttered, still not opening his eyes. "We were saying goodbye to Eddie before going on tour," he said.

"I can't believe he finally made it. Do you think I'll be able to brag about how I changed his bandages?" she laughed quietly while making herself some coffee.

"I'm sure he'll write a song about it." he replied with a joke and fell silent. The silence between them was broken by the doctor's entrance into the room.

"She's here again." she sighed heavily. "Another 'fall'."

"Are you sure we can't report this anywhere?" Judy pinched the tip of her nose and furrowed her brow. This person's condition must have really worried her.

"If we report domestic violence and she denies everything the police won't do anything anyway,"

"She is pregnant, Linda. This is a very serious case." 

"The only thing we can do at this point is to talk some sense into her and try to persuade her to agree to help."

"She's as stubborn as a mule, and I doubt she'll agree,"

"Sooner or later it will come to her that she will have a child and it is its safety that should be the most important thing for her. For this moment we have to go, Steve you will take care of sewing up the wound, and you Judy will help me with the gynecological examination."

"Come on boy..." the nurse sighed patting him on the back. 

He walked sluggishly along the corridor contemplating the women's conversation. How scared must this girl have been that she didn't run away from this deviant? Did she really have no one to help her? 

Entering the room, he was not ready for the sight that awaited him there. In the sterile white room, you sat in a chair staring at the floor, pressing a towel to your shoulder. A towel that was soaked with blood. When you raised your eyes and noticed him you froze. Steve also turned pale with surprise and horror at your condition. You were the girl they were talking about. The truth seemed too horrible to believe right away. There was a nasty bruise on your face, and when you moved the towel away from your arm an elongated wound appeared, from which blood would not stop pouring.

"What happened to you dear child?" Judy asked, looking at you with compassion in her eyes. Although you were no longer such a child, legally in every aspect you were already an adult. You quickly tore your gaze away from Steve and looked at the older nurse.

"I- I fell over. I fell on a glass bottle and a piece of it stuck in my shoulder...the blood won't stop flowing, when I fell I also hit my stomach, it hurts a lot, I was scared that..." you said quietly, ashamed looking at a single point on the floor. You knew that neither the doctor nor the nurse believed you. You also knew that, as if on a platter, you had given another reason from which Steve could create another level of your personal hell. He, however, was still looking on in disbelief at what was happening. The whole situation seemed to him as if it was made up. It was impossible that it was really you, that you were sitting completely defenseless as a victim of domestic violence. A pregnant victim of domestic violence. Holy shit, he was getting weak. It wasn't possible that after all you'd been through in the Upside Down, life was putting more hurdles in your way. You were fighting monsters from another dimension and you couldn't deal with your boyfriend? He didn't understand anything anymore.

"Steve take care of the wound. Make sure there's no more glass there, clean it up and apply stitches. We'll be back in a minute to do the rest of the examination." Dr. Linda ordered and together she and Judy went to get the equipment needed.

Not knowing how to behave, he simply began to prepare everything and sat very close to you. He took a deep breath. A very uncomfortable silence fell between you and the atmosphere was tense. After putting on his gloves, he gently grabbed your hand with both hands to take a closer look at the wound. Your inhalation stopped midway and your body stiffened all over. 

"Do you need some anesthetic? It might hurt." He said in a nervous voice and corrected his glasses. 

"I can handle it." you muttered.

"Are you sure? It really can-" 

"I'm sure, Harrington." You growled interrupting him and turned your head toward the window, and he silently began to dispose of the glass shards. 

Your hissing in pain did not escape his attention. To make matters worse, he also noticed the single tears that flew down your cheeks. As he was putting the stitches in place memories of last night began to fly through his head. Everything he said in your direction. Every word went straight to the heart of the problem. Glancing at your face every now and then, he could feel it getting fainter as he stopped at the purple area under your eye. Now he knew why you were wearing so much makeup. He knew what you wanted to hide and that scared him even more. He now understood why you refused to have a drink. Everything seemed so obvious now. Why didn't you tell anyone about this? He thought of the evening when Robin cried her eyes out because of Vicky. He was furious with you for not even being there for her at such a time. He was furious that you left her alone, but now he knew. He knew why, he knew the reason you canceled all your meetings. You didn't want anyone to know about what was going on. But now he knew now. This realization became a burden he didn't know how to lift.

"Y/n, listen...I- I want to apologize for yesterday. I was an asshole, I shouldn't have said all that." he said quietly. Shocked, you looked at him. He had said many awful things about you but never apologized for it. After a moment, though, surprise turned into a stony face. 

"I don't need your sympathy or pity." you replied dryly. "You don't need to lie about being sorry, I know that's not true."

"Y/n..." normally he would have already started to get irritated that you wouldn't accept an apology causing another argument, but now he didn't feel an ounce of anger at you. He himself didn't know exactly what he felt. 

"You weren't supposed to find out about all this. Believe me, if I didn't have to I wouldn't be sitting here right now, sitting here with you is much worse." He was already used to these kinds of words coming from your mouth, but never in his life had it been accompanied by tears, and he knew it must have meant you were on edge. "But there is one thing we agree on." You looked him straight in the eye. "I wish you hadn't saved me that night too." you were too tired. You had survived one hell only to immediately land in another. After a sleepless night and a morning full of screaming, you no longer had the strength to keep up the mask that everything was fine and you were handling it. Your life was one big mess and this was just the beginning. 

"No, y/n-" before he could say anything further the women came back into the room. He knew what they were talking about. He remembered perfectly the moment when he said those words, and to this day he regretted it. No matter how bad the relationship between the two of you looked, he knew it was too much.

"How's the arm?" the Doctor asked when they returned to the room.

He coughed before speaking. "I took out the remaining shards of glass and cleaned it carefully. Just two more stitches and everything will be ready." 

"Well done." She praised him by sending him a warm smile, and then turned to you. "You mentioned very severe abdominal pains, I'd like you to lie down now. We'll run some tests to make sure the baby is okay." 

To make sure the baby is okay. Baby. You were pregnant. You were pregnant and a victim of domestic violence. I wish you hadn't saved me that night too. Your words gained more and more frightening meaning making his heart sinking. 

While the examinations were being carried out he took care of cleaning up the position after sewing up your hand. This did not take long. Dr. Linda reassured you by saying that everything was fine, but pointed out that you should try to avoid stressful situations. What did that even mean? Your life now was one big stressful situation, how the hell were you supposed to avoid it? 

"Now listen to me carefully." she looked at you. "If you ever decide to talk to someone about your "falls", remember that you are safe here and we can help you. You just have to let us do it. We'll take care of you and the baby, okay?" 

You just nodded your head. You couldn't do that. You couldn't get away from him no matter how much you wanted to. "Let me walk you out." You quickly got up and followed the doctor.

Before leaving you looked at Steve one last time. He wanted to say something, anything that would erase all of yesterday's words, but it was impossible. With a broken expression on his face, he could only watch the door close behind you and think about the fact that you were on your way home, where your abuser was waiting for you. He involuntarily clenched his fists at the very thought that Travis might once again lay a hand on you. He was filled with emotions he couldn't recognize. 

"You know this girl, don't you?" Judy asked with a sigh. Steve just nodded affirmatively. "You're a good guy, Steve. It's good that she has a friend like you." Her words were like a strong punch.

Oh Judy, if only you knew...

taglist (guys thank you so much for wanting to be in the taglist before the story even started! I really hope you won't be too dissapointed!): @i-me-mine @phantypurple @sheisjoeschateau @hollandweather

[iamamythologicalcreature]

Sentences or Sketches or Something... Sunday

Hello strangers! It's been a long time since I last did a progress post of any kind - thank you everyone who's continued to tag me so I don't get left behind! And thanks to @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @blackberrysummerblog, @thewholelemon, @mooncello, @monbons, @prettygoododds, @shrekgogurt, and @youarenevertooold for tagging me, today. (I feel so loved! <3) I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone's up to.

It's still Sunday in my neck of the woods, though just barely. And yes, I've used my "sentences" banner, but... It's a bit more chaotic than that. Honestly, I wasn't sure about doing a post today because I'm a bit all over the place, but then I figured... eh, why not? I am all over the place LOL.

So here's your snippet from the collective efforts of Jo's creativity, lately, under the cut. (Because I ramble...)

On the Haunting of Simon Snow... I haven't forgotten about it! Nor is it abandoned. As I keep telling anyone who will listen, I have a rough draft, which basically amounts to an outline, meaning I have way too much figured out to just let the story fade away. XD I attempted to work on Chapter 2 earlier this month, and ran into some roadblocks - of the architectural variety.

So I've started to research manor houses and English estates like mad. I'm going to do the thing. I'm going to figure out Pitch Manor. Why? Because my brain won't let me gloss over paltry details such as the location of Simon in the grand scheme of the house, or how and where the roof attaches and where that tree is going to be. It's annoying, but I figure... This is a fun puzzle, too. One I hope to be able to share with the fandom at large once it's complete.

This little snippet is from an early design I've since scrapped (but you never know what might come around, again.)

"That's great, Jo, but how about some sentences?"

Okay. Ahem. Here's... some Simon sentences... that have just been scribbled out. *cough*

I sit there and listen to the man on the other side as he blathers on about extra fees associated with estate deliveries due to distance and blah blah bloody fucking blah. I wish he’d just say it. Just say 'this is the Pitch Manor tax.' No one ever does. But everyone charges it.

I HAVE WRITTEN SEE THERE'S PROOF.

Okay, moving on...

The other thing I'm working on is illustrations for @mooncello's beautiful fanfic, "Lost Boys." I just posted art from Chapter 1 here, and I'm working on art for Chapter 2, now. The story is stuffed to the gills with absolutely gorgeous imagery, so choosing what to illustrate is a challenge. Hopefully it all works out, and in the meantime, here are a couple doodles.

(I was telling Heath last night... this morning...? about how all illustrations start out as baby sketches XD These are the little babes in the creative nursery, basically. Also I have never posted baby sketches before and I'm kinda nervous about it. But. Well. >.> )

THERE YOU HAVE IT. A couple of my reasons for being so entirely absent from all other aspects of the fandom. (Also I got hit with the flu super hard, but doing better now!)

Tags for future wipsdays/hello's! @leithillustration, @artsyunderstudy (thank you for listening to me ramble about Pitch Manor), @erzbethluna, @nightimedreamersworld, @cutestkilla (thank you for also listening to me ramble about Pitch Manor sorry I'm reworking it again XD), @angelsfalling16, @fatalfangirl, @hushed-chorus (thank you for being my secret-garden-enabler XD), @rimeswithpurple, @best--dress, @whatevertheweather, @ileadacharmedlife, @scribble-tier, @imagineacoolusername, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @alleycat0306, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @tender-ministrations, @katmiscellanious, @anxious-m3ss, @bubble-gumhead, @ebbpettier, @facewithoutheart, @bazzybelle, @theimpossibledemon, @aristocratic-otter, @ic3-que3n, @palimpsessed, @raenestee

[gumnut-logic]

Along the Way (Part 7 and The End)

Sweetapple | Dear Mr Tracy | Along the way - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

It's finished! ::runs around the room like a loon:: Though I have to say that I doubt this will be the last we see of Mr Sweetapple as there are several threads that need a good neat tie up :D

All the wonderful thanks to @onereyofstarlight for staying up extra late and answering my poke across the Tasman Sea for a last minute read. I hope Alex gives you some nice sleep ::hugs tight::

Also, special thanks to all of you for supporting my geeky fanboy Alex :D There will be more as someone sent me some OC asks about Alex and I've realised that the only way I can answer them is by writing fic. (some other OCs of mine might pop up in fic at some point,too, for that exact same reason) ::so many hugs to all of you for being so kind to me::

But anyway, I will stop my excited rambling and present you with the last chapter of this fic....which has taken so long to write - so many apologies. Though I am excited that I'm writing again :D

I hope you enjoy this :D

-o-o-o-

Alexander Sweetapple’s head was spinning.

Not so much from the concussion he had no doubt he had, thank you, Mr Holographic Scott Tracy, but more from the fact that Virgil had just kissed him.

Not Mr Virgil Tracy, Head of Research and Development at Tracy Industries, no….more ‘ohmigod, I finally found you and you’re alive, I want to hug and kiss your brains out’ Virgil Tracy.

The man was covered in concrete dust and grime, there was more grey than blue on his uniform bar the scratched patches where his now discarded exosuit had sat.

Alex had proof Virgil had hugged him via all the dusty patches on his damp clothes, on his arms, and in his hair.

Virgil Tracy had hugged and kissed him.

For real.

Alex stood beside his mum while Virgil assessed the condition of her ankle and she went about embarrassing her son every way possible.

To be honest, it had been such a day that she was welcome to show Virgil Alex’s naked baby pictures for all he cared. She was safe and that was all important.

A glance over at the remains of the museum building prompted his heart to add a few extra beats per minute to its routine.

Alex let his jaw drop as he watched the roof float away.

Oh god.

“Alex?”

Virgil’s voice was so rich and deep.

“Alex?” And then Virgil grabbed him. Was he trying to hug him again. That would be nice. “Whoa! I think you need to sit down.”

Okay.

He folded himself smoothly down onto the pavement beside his mum.

“Hey, honey, look at me.” Her fingers were suddenly in his hair. “Allie, how the hell did you do all that with a head injury?” She peered closely at him. “Virgil, what do your scanners say?”

And yes, Virgil was waving a yellow light over Alex. “Concussion, bruising…” He frowned. “You’re both wet. You’ve been in the river?”

“Nearly drowned. My foot got stuck and Allie pulled me out. Some water, possibly sewage, may have been inhaled. My recommendation is to watch for symptoms of infection. In both of us.” Dr Sweetapple was in the house.

He turned to Virgil only to find his friend’s eyebrows fully deployed.

They were very nice eyebrows.

Virgil caught his stare. “Thunderbird One, I need to leave the danger zone. Ten minutes there and back for patient transport.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Two. Make it quick, we need your help in the industrial sector.” A pause. “How’s Alex?”

“Concussion, but well enough…and safe.” Virgil still had his eyes.

“Good to hear. Thunderbird One out.”

“What are you doing, Virgil?” The words slipped out without thought.

Virgil looked down at his wrist control poking it. “You both need medical supervision. I’m providing it for you.”

A good hundred metres away, Thunderbird Two rose up on her struts and her module door slid smoothly open. Two hoverstretchers darted out across the road, gliding around obstacles until they reached Virgil’s side. He pulled out a control surface and reconfigured them into hoverchairs. “Sorry to rush this, but time is short. Alex, stay put while I help your mother.” He held up a gloved hand and Alex was forced to settle back and obey.

Besides, the world was spinning again, and after all, Virgil was technically his boss.

He let his head fall into his hand and closed his eyes, suddenly ever so tired.

So this was what an adrenalin drop felt like.

Ugh.

“Alex?” Virgil’s voice was soft and his gloved hand gentle on his arm. That was really nice. “Alex? You with me?”

He blinked. Oh. “Yeah.”

“Let’s get you up.” Virgil nudged him, both hands holding his arms to steady him.

The world wobbled, but a few steps and Virgil had him snug and safe, strapped into the hover stretcher…chair…whatever the hell it was.

Virgil was running, Alex and his mother beside him, until they were all swallowed by the green of Thunderbird Two.

At some point, Virgil must has triggered the chair back into a bed because Alex was lying down and Virgil hovering over him, once again with a scanner flickering yellow light. “You can go to sleep, Alex. You’re okay and you’re safe.” A gloved hand gently brushed away the hair from Alex’s forehead. He knew this should mean something, but he was so tired.

Thunderbird green danced as his eyelids drifted closed.

Somewhere something was roaring just like a Thunderbird launching, but he had no energy to care.

-o-o-o-

Jeff stepped into the elevator only to almost collide with his mother. “Mom?”

“I’m meeting Thunderbird Two.”

“Why?” Was Virgil hurt? Why hadn’t John told him?

A hand on his arm quelled the sudden panic. “Virgil is fine. We have visitors.”

“Who?” Did he have to draw the information out bit by bit?

“Do you remember Alexander Sweetapple?”

“Of course, I do. Gordon thinks Virgil might be…interested.”

“He is.” She held up a finger so close to Jeff’s face, his eyes crossed. “And you are not going to say a thing. Yes, he’s breaking protocol, but he has good reason.” She looked away and let her finger drop. “The poor boy has been terrified all day. Thank god, they finally found Alex. And I don’t blame him for not wanting to let him out of his sight.” His mother stared up at Jeff with all the fire he knew she possessed. “Your son is bringing home his first romantic interest ever and you are not going to spout security blather all over him. This is our house and we can have guests. Especially important guests.”

Jeff took a step back. “I wasn’t going to say anything!” Virgil was bringing home Alex? As a love interest? “What the hell happened?” He really needed to speak to John about keeping him updated. He knew his orbiting son was selective, but this was ridiculous.

The elevator doors opened and his mother glared at him. “Something good. Don’t ruin it.” She stomped off into Two’s hangar, detouring into the medical supply cupboard on the way, just as the hangar doors started their opening sequence.

Jeff stepped cautiously out of the elevator. He had no idea what warranted his mother’s ire. Okay, maybe he had had some words with his eldest at one point, but that was nearly a decade ago.

His priorities were a little different these days.

Two roared in, a little faster than the norm. Virgil was obviously in a hurry. She spun on her turntable and the moment she settled, her forward hatch was lowered, Virgil standing between two hoverchairs.

Jeff hurried after his mother, cursing his cane, as Virgil strode with the two chairs towards them.

“Grandma, this is Doctor Lolly Sweetapple. Doctor Sweetapple, this is my grandmother, Doctor Sally Tracy, she and my father will be taking over your care.”

The two doctors exchanged greetings and slipped into medical babble two seconds later.

“Dad?” Virgil gestured him over. “You remember Alex?” Why was there so much hesitation in his son’s voice?

“Certainly, the creator of Siliwrap.” The man was obviously asleep. “How is he?”

“Concussion, bruising, he and his mother need monitoring for possible lung infection. They were caught in contaminated water.” His son swallowed; his expression hesitant. “I wanted them here, Dad. Grandma has the skills and the tools.” He looked away. “I just couldn’t leave them to the system.” His eyes fell on Alex and Jeff’s heart clenched.

“We will look after them.” He dropped a consoling hand to his son’s shoulder.

Vulnerable eyes looked up at him. “Thanks, Dad.” His hand was squeezed and Virgil was again moving. This time running back to his ‘bird.

His mother immediately took over and bustled them all into the elevator before they could acquire new coiffures a’la rocket engine.

As the doors closed, Thunderbird Two accelerated out on to her runway and the elevator shaft roared as she took to the sky.

-o-o-o-

Alex rolled over in bed and sighed into his pillow. He was extremely comfortable. Temperature was perfect. Pillow was soft. “Mmmmm….”

“About time you woke up, Allie. You were starting to worry me.” His mother’s voice was always reassuring.

“He’s fine, Lolly. Concussion is healing and there is no sign of any lung infection. See, look at the scans.”

Alex frowned. That was a female voice he didn’t recognise. Also, why was his mum in his bedroom?

“You’re giving me equipment envy, Sally. My god, the science behind this is amazing.”

“Virgil has them in development, don’t you worry. A good percentage of our breakthroughs do get filtered down into the market. Unfortunately, there is a difference between the ability to make a device for International Rescue and making devices in efficient, ecological and economic mass production. Our teams do their best.” A snort. “And your boy is part of that team. His devotion to Siliwrap is all to his credit. Alex is saving lives as much, if not more, as any at Tracy industries. You should be proud.”

“Oh, that’s a given. He’s always been a little obsessive, especially regarding the Thunderbirds.”

Wha-?

Alex flung his eyes open to find his mother lying on a bed beside him, smiling. She had her ankle wrapped and raised and was obviously talking to the owner of the other voice, an older lady dressed in a purple jumpsuit.

Both were smiling at him.

“Where am I?”

Yes, that’s the first question out of any alien abductee’s mouth, no doubt about it.

“You’re on Tracy Island, Alex. You and your mother are safe and our guests.” When Alex didn’t respond as his brain automatically overloaded. “I’m Mrs Tracy, Virgil’s grandmother.”

“Watch it, Sally, he may combust on the spot.”

Thanks, mum.

His mother was grinning at him. “I swear he’s been looking for the location of this island since he discovered his first Thunderbird.”

“Mum!”

“Shhh! You’ll wake him up.” His mum was pointing behind him.

“Lolly, don’t worry, Virgil sleeps like the dead. Especially after a rescue like that.”

Virgil? What?

He twisted around and found a third bed behind him. Virgil lay sprawled face down on it, snoring softly into his pillow.

“Don’t worry, honey. He’s just tired. Our boys exhaust themselves and then wonder why their bodies shut down.”

It was only then all the events leading up to his current situation fully loaded into his brain.

Virgil.

Virgil had kissed him. His chocolate eyes held such relief and joy…

The scene played back in his head over and over, declaring that it had happened. That something Alex may have dreamed about but never really considered actually possible, had happened.

He stared at Virgil.

Gone was the uniform and in its place a simple black t-shirt outlining a lax bicep hanging off the edge of the bed. Alex’s eyes tracked down the length of Virgil’s arm to his hand.

Such strong hands.

The emergency responder had a blanket draped over him, obviously placed there after the advent of slumber, likely by his purple grandmother.

“Why is he here?”

Mrs Tracy walked around Alex’s bed so she could face him. “Now, don’t you start worrying your head off, young man. He is fine. He’s in the bed because otherwise he’d be asleep in a chair and that is not acceptable self-care. He wanted to stay here with you and it was the bed or out. Exhaustion did the rest.”

He stared at her a moment, his thoughts spinning.

“How are you feeling, Allie?”

Huh? He turned back to his mother. “Mum, your ankle…”

She waved him off. “Hon, I’ve done worse tripping over kids in the waiting room. Nothing to worry about.” She frowned at him. “How’s your head?”

How was his head? How was he in general?

There were aches, yes, now that attention had been drawn to them, but generally, considering that he’d just been through a major disaster, he felt okay. “I’m okay.”

His eyes drifted back to Virgil.

“Don’t you think of getting out of bed just so you can sit at his bedside, Alex. I know how you boys think, so don’t think you can pull one over on me.” Virgil’s grandmother was proving to be as bad as Alex’s mother.

“Don’t worry, Sally, he’s been very well trained from birth.”

“How did you manage that? I’ve been trying for nearly thirty years with the grandkids. Their father is just as bad.”

Alex’s eyes widened. Their father? Jeff Tracy. The Jeff Tracy who gave his name to Tracy Island. That Tracy Island that was ever so secret and Alex was currently resting his butt on. Well, the bed his was resting his butt on was on the Island. It was simple transference of molecular ownership.

Perhaps this was not the best moment to realise that he was wearing a black t-shirt very similar to Virgil’s and that it was not one he owned, nor was it one he was wearing the last time he was aware and conscious.

He pulled up the blanket and found black shorts. “Where are my clothes?” Perhaps the step up in octave was a little ridiculous on his part, but it had been a very stressful day.

“Your clothes were ruined, Allie. Jeff and Mrs Tracy were kind enough to supply and dress you in some replacements.” His mother was ever so matter-of-fact, as usual.

“Jeff Tracy saw me naked?!”

Okay, he had to admit, that was supposed to be inner voice and not shouted at the top of his lungs. In any case, it proved that it was possible to wake up Virgil Tracy, no matter what his grandmother said.

“Alex? What?”

He turned to find Virgil pushing himself up off the bed, hair sticking in all directions, obviously still half asleep.

“Honey, the man brought up five boys. One more is nothing new.” Mrs Tracy was as matter-of-fact as his mother.

Great. A team up.

“Virgil, go back to sleep.” Mrs Tracy bustled over to her grandson and attempted to get him to lie down.

But Virgil had caught sight of Alex. “Alex! You’re awake!”

Mrs Tracy actually rolled her eyes as Virgil threw off his covers and climbed out of bed. He closed the distance between them on bare feet. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Alex couldn’t help it. “You look adorable.” Because he did. Big tough rescue operative with puffy eyes and hair sticking up all over the place, not to mention the black t-shirt and shorts that hid absolutely zero anatomical detail. And above all, he was smiling, as if ever so happy to see Alex…which was some kind of miracle and honestly how hard had he hit is head?

“You’re not bad yourself.” That smile turned to one of appreciation.

What?

His mother did mention a concussion…

“Okay, it’s obvious Virgil is not going to listen to his doctor’s advice, so Lolly and I will leave you two boys alone.” Mrs Tracy poked at his mum’s bed and it detached from the wall, hovering quite happily and easily nudged out of the room.

“Allie, take it easy, love. You are recovering from a concussion, after all.”

Yeah, yeah, mum, whatever. Virgil’s eyes were such a beautiful shade of brown.

Both women muttered to each other as they left the room, closing the door behind them.

Virgil was poking Alex’s bed controls with his fingers. “Good. You’ve rested.” His eyes were tracking over medical readouts. Alex’s medical readouts.

“I’m okay, Virgil.”

The man looked up at him again. “Good.”

Alex frowned as Virgil lifted a hand up and gently brushed Alex’s hair clear of his left temple and the abrasion there. “Grandma’s treated you well.”

Alex wanted to fall into that gentle touch. His eyes may have at least partially closed.

“Are we okay?”

Alex’s eyes snapped open.

“I mean…” Those eyes looked down and away. No, come back! “…we haven’t talked about-“

Alex was suddenly kissing Virgil. There had been space between them, but now it was gone, Alex had his arms around those truly magnificent biceps, and startled lips were pressed up against his, ever so warm, and god, Virgil was kissing him back…

There was a brain whiteout for a moment as Virgil’s arms returned Alex’s eager embrace…and then Virgil’s tongue was in his mouth and…

“Whoa! My bad.”

Alex pulled back.

“No! No, you two just keep doin’ what you were doin’ and I’ll just put this coffee down and-“

“Gordon, what do you want?” Virgil hadn’t let go of Alex, but his head did turn towards his brother.

Alex was busy dying on the spot. Why did he do that? Kiss Virgil? Him?

“I brought you coffee! You know, life blood and all that.” Coffee? “Uh, you might want to get back to that tonsil hockey you were playing. Alex looks like he’s might dump you for the coffee.”

“Go away, Gordon.”

“Going away, leaving, like a tree. Happy for both of you. ‘Bout time, Virg.”

“Gordon!”

“I’m gone!” And he was, the door sliding shut behind him.

Virgil turned back to Alex. “Sorry about that.” A slight shrug. “I have brothers.”

Alex blinked. “I have sisters.”

Virgil’s smile was a sight to behold. “So, we’re okay?”

Alex had had a very hard day, his head was a bit of a mess and there were several truths he was ignoring to keep his sanity. But right now?

He tugged Virgil closer. “More than okay.”

“You want some coffee?”

But Virgil’s lips were brushing his and… “No, I’m good.”

The coffee went cold.

-o-o-o-

FIN

[c0la-queen]

Set the World on Fire | Chapter 1

Summary: Reader unknowingly sets off a series of events that will change her - and the world - forever.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Violence, minor Reader injury

Note: Finally got Chapter 1 done, I'm so sorry this took so long! I'm sorry if this feels rambling-ish to some of you, but I really like how it turned out. Establishes a lot of physical and technical world-building for the base. Also I promise the next chapter will have more Red Leader!! I hope you enjoy, mwah mwah!!

--

Two years later…

You sighed softly as you walked through the halls, accompanied only by your footsteps. Your boots gave an unyielding click, click, click against the concrete floors. The frigid air seeped in through the walls, making you yearn for your warm bed.

A week at the main Red Army base was not enough to get used to how different it was. Especially compared to the smaller base you had been in - the same base that had found you after the attack. There, everyone was close. It took maybe 5 minutes to walk from one side of the base to the other. You were a little family that all stuck together. The mess hall maybe had three to five full tables every meal shift. Soldiers could call out to someone on the other side of the room to banter, and everyone present would laugh. Promotions were few between and celebrated by everyone with drinks and a special dinner. You all supported each other. The size and bond reminded you of a graduating class of seniors.

But if that base was a graduating class, the main base was an entire high school. There were soldiers who had been living in the base that couldn't tell you the names of more than 10-20 of their peers. You were sure that even if you ran for 5 minutes, you would only make it halfway across the base. There was an air of competition between everyone - not the good kind, but a sort of hostile tension between everyone to climb the ranks as fast as possible. During meal shifts, you would be lucky to find a seat in the mess hall unless someone specifically saved you one. You'd have to nearly yell just to hear the person across from you over the chatter in the room. You felt isolated and outnumbered.

It felt like ironically interesting commentary on human behavior and how its affected by population size.

You felt a yawn fight its way from your lips, the corners of your eyes stinging from drowsiness. You were on a late night patrol shift, which almost all soldiers dreaded. All privates had to log a specific amount of night patrol hours every month, given in a specific schedule. Night patrols consisted of 4 groups every shift, each one located at one of the main entrances to the base. The first shift started at 8 pm sharp, right when the last dinner ends. Shifts change twice every night - once at 1 pm and once at 6 am. It could get boring after a short while, simply walking up and down the well-worn length of the base perimeter, waiting for something interesting to happen. The winter months were the worst - the base was only mildly warm even during the height of the summer, but winter was by far harsher than most of the soldiers were used to. Several layers of clothes were needed just to get through the 5 hour shifts. Various ways of coping were used around the base by all privates; hand warmers, thermoses full of hot drinks, balaclavas, extra layering, etc. If it exists, the Red Army privates have tried it.

Not having to do night patrols was a huge motivator for privates to get a promotion.

You were lucky enough to have been given the first shift that night - it was 1:30 am, and the second shift had just swapped out with you. After your supervisor gave you the approval, you were released. Exhaustion dragging deep in your bones, you were ready to simply peel your outer clothes off and pass out in your bed in your tank top and panties. Despite the shared dislike of having to do patrols, you couldn't help but admire how organized the main base was. Red Leader's constant presence meant that every single thing was designed to be as smooth as possible. He was constantly criticized by his enemies for being a cruel, cold-hearted monster, but that never quite fit in your mind. The main base was the biggest target for attacks, raids, and other things, but it was by far the safest Red Army base across Europe.

How could a man be a monster when he personally ensured that his soldiers were safe and cared for in the place that they called home?

A noise drew you out of your thoughts. It was faint, but it was hard to miss in the silence of the halls. Voices. Whispers bleeding out into the empty halls from a small distance ahead of you. The halls were in "Night Mode" - an automatic setting that kicked in at 9 pm, shutting off the main overhead lights and switching to soft strip lights along the edges of the floors and ceiling. It was meant to be enough light to easily navigate through the hallways while not being so bright that it disturbs soldiers' sleep. One of Red Leader's many personal mechanics installed around the base to improve everyone's daily life. That peaceful light was interrupted by the harsh light of a nearby room that poured into the halls from an open door.

You stopped a short distance from the door when you noticed the shadows of two people cast along the floors. Part of you wanted to dismiss it as two soldiers simply out of their quarters past curfew, doing a piss-poor job of not getting caught. But something told you not to jump to conclusions. A swirling feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach at the sight of the shadows. Prey instincts pressed against the forefront of your brain, telling you stay quiet. stay out of sight. do not be seen. Deciding to heed these instincts, you slowed your breathing, listening to the whispered words coming from the room.

It was hard to hear exactly what was being said, but you managed to catch a few phrases. 'Red Leader's quarters,' 'find it,' and 'take the shot.' Piecing together what was going on wasn't difficult to do. Any other words were lost to you, the rush of blood ringing in your ears completely drowning them out. Thoughts and scenarios raced through your mind, but one phrase echoed the loudest.

Find the alarm.

The entire base was fixed with an alarm system. Activators were littered through the halls, making them easy to find. Slowly, carefully, you began to take steps backwards, intending to make your way to an alarm you spotted a few paces back without risking being seen by the two plotters. Fate had other ideas. Two men stepped out of the room. They were dressed in black clothing, likely chosen for stealth. The strip lights made it difficult to see their faces clearly, but one thing was certain.

They were looking directly at you.

Your heartbeat felt like a ticking second hand of a clock as you stood still, feet glued to the floor. You stared. They stared. Then, everything came rushing back. One of the intruders took a step toward you, and you bolted. You heard your boots thump against the concrete as you sprinted in the direction you came from, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The alarm activator quickly came into view. To avoid unauthorized use, it could only be turned on with the use of the standard Red Army ID cards that were required to be kept on your person at all times. You yanked yours off the clip, not caring if the thin bit of plastic bit broke in the process, and slammed it against the scanner. You didn't even bother to waste time checking how close your pursuers were to you. As soon as the screen lit up, you slammed your thumb against the button that red 'INTRUDERS' in big, bold letters. Seconds after you pressed it, a weight slammed into your side, slamming you to the cold concrete ground. One of the intruders sat on top of you, wrapping his hands around your throat.

But it was too late. Red lights bathed the halls, the low blare of the alarm echoing through the entire building. The other intruder appeared in your line of vision, grabbing the first by the shoulder and dragging him off of you. You gasp as air filled your lungs again.

"Leave her, we have to get out of here."

"But-"

"We are not sticking around to get caught. Do you have any idea what Red Leader does to prisoners?"

You rolled onto your side, coughs wracking your body. Your throat stung from the phantom feeling of the man's hands. Your ears rang, and you couldn't hear anything except muffled footsteps for a while. Suddenly, hands were on your shoulders. Panic coursed through you, thinking they had come back to finish the job. Your hand lashed out. Something solid collided with your fist, and there was a grunt. The hands disappeared for a second, but quickly came back. You were rolled onto your back. In that moment, your hearing cleared.

"Private!"

Standing over you was a fellow Red Army soldier. You recognized him as one of the lieutenants that had worked with your platoon before. He helped you sit up, looking over you for any obvious injuries. Another soldier was standing off to the side, clutching his face. The lieutenant snapped in front of your face, drawing you back to the present.

"Can you hear me, Private? Do you need medical attention?"

You completely disregarded his questions, panicked energy filling your entire body.

"Two intruders, male, wearing all black. They're targeting Red Leader."

The lieutenant paused, taking in that information. He looked over his shoulder, nodding to the other soldier. He returned the nod, then disappeared down the hallway. The lieutenant focused back on you. You could hear soldiers flooding the hallway all around you, pulled from their sleep by the alarm and guns drawn.

"Private, do you need medical? How copy?"

You swallowed thickly. The sting of your throat made you wince. Still, you shook your head 'no.' The lieutenants eyes flickered across you, taking in your state. They rested just below your head.

"I'm taking you to medical."

You barely had time to argue when you were scooped into his arms. He stood, holding you with little to no effort. He looked around at the soldiers gathered in the halls, barking out orders over the blaring of the alarm.

"We got two intruders wearing all black, location unknown. Bring them in alive. Red Leader is the confirmed target, protect at all costs. Lovelace, get it over the radio."

Sergeant Major Lovelace nodded and repeated the message over her radio, making sure all soldiers knew the situation. The lieutenant holding you made his way through the halls, weaving through the other soldiers as he made his way to the medical wing.

"What's your name, Private?"

You gave him your last name, trying to blink away the spinning of the world. The lieutenant clicked his tongue softly.

"Full name, c'mon."

Oh. He wanted to keep you talking, to prevent any potential passing out. You indulged, giving him your full name. He gave you a crooked grin, the small gap between his front teeth giving it an almost boyish charm. He had shaggy brown hair that tufted out at his neck in a small mullet, cornflower blue eyes, and sun kissed skin. A small scar stretched across his chin - it didn't look like the ugly scar of some traumatic injury; more like the faint scar of past teenage mischief.

"The name's Lieutenant Kai Veern. You did great tonight, (Name)."

Lieutenant Veern proceeded to ramble to you as he navigated the chaotic halls. A Southern accent was laced into his words, relaxing your panicked brain. Soon, he pushed a door open with his hip, addressing the nurses that were standing in a group.

"Got a soldier with fresh bruising around her neck. Disoriented. Unsure of any other injuries."

You zoned out as you were set on a check-up table. The nurses bustled around you, checking you for injuries.

You wondered where Red Leader was.

--

"Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on in my base?"

The intruder alarms had long been turned off. Tord paced his office, glancing at the clock on the wall. 5 am. God, he needed a smoke.

"Two intruders were apprehended in the east wing. They're being held in interrogation as we speak."

"Separately?"

Patryk nodded.

"Who pulled the alarm?"

"Private (Last Name). The patrol supervisor said she had just been released from first shift. We're headed down to medical to get her report right after this."

Tord's eyes snapped up to his Major General and Lieutenant General.

"Medical? What do you mean, medical?"

Paul and Patryk shared a nervous glance. Paul shifted in his spot.

"Lieutenants Veern and Winston found her on the ground in the hall. Veern escorted her to medical for bruising around her neck. It's likely that one of the intruders tried to strangle her."

Hot anger flashed through Tord. He slammed his hand against his desk, the heavy metal making a loud impact against the wooden surface. Paul and Patryk didn't even flinch.

"You're telling me that not only did someone have the audacity to sneak into my base like vermin, but one of them put his hands on my soldier? Does she have any other injuries? Did any other soldier report to medical?"

Paul shook his head to both questions. A growl rumbled from Tord's chest.

"They still harmed one of mine. That is a transgression I will not take lightly. Find out which one did it. Save him for me. If neither of them cough it up, give them both a lesson. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The two stood and saluted.

"Wait. I want you to report straight to interrogation."

Patryk frowned.

"But what about Private-"

"I am going to see her myself."

The two soldiers blinked in surprise, staring at him as if he had grown a second head. Tord huffed, waving his hand dismissively as he pulled a cigar from the box on his desk.

"She could have been risking her life to pull that alarm. I want to talk to her directly."

Failing to bite back their smiles, Tord's trusted soldiers nodded and headed out the door. The guards posted outside his office shut the doors behind them.

Tord sighed, lighting his cigar and taking a deep inhale. The smoke puffed around him as he exhaled, shoulders slowly relaxing. He tapped his other fingers against his desk as he stewed in his thoughts.

Private (Name)…

He was very curious.

[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Two) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1...

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: rumors.

[[ A/N: Also, am I so inspired by this concept that I wrote a second part in a day? Maybe so... 👀👀👀 Anyway, thanks for reading!!! ]]

You realized pretty quickly that you hadn't gotten the man's name, only his daughter's first. It was a bit frustrating, and even more so as your Headmistress continued to ramble on about timeliness and arriving on time.

You knew the lesson, it had been drilled into your head since you'd been late to school once at age six. It only grated on your ears now.

There was a thought there to tell her it was because of a man -she'd be so delighted, her whole rant would be long forgotten. But another part of yourself wished to hold it back -to keep this man and his darling daughter in your brain for no one else to see.

It was a rather selfish thought, but having never seen the two before you assumed they were travelers -they'd be gone soon enough. And without his name, it would be rather difficult to describe to a Headmistress all about social standing. He could be a farmhand for all you knew, an overdressed farmhand, sure, but one no less.

"Y/N," Headmistress pursed her lips -a grainy sort of disgust in her face, "-are you even listening?"

"Yes ma'am," you cleared your throat, moving to cut into your pancake, "-sorry, I was a little distracted, what have you asked?"

Elisa frowned, set deep into her face and you wondered how she'd been so smiley before with how heavily ingrained it looked, "I asked, young lady, what distracted you on your trip? It's not normal for you to take such time! So what happened?"

You paused, quickly eating a bite to buy some time -unsure if you wished to speak the truth. The more you thought about it, you found it rather stupid -the man was surely gone and it wasn't anything to concern them. You were a lady of age, and speaking to a man hardly was anything to talk to your parents about.

"Mrs. Sweets had some new dresses in the window," you lied -carefully dabbing your face with the napkin (you had noticed the new dresses but it had hardly taken any time at all), "-I wanted to look at them closely, and lost track of time, I suppose, I truly apologize."

"Hmm," the Headmistress pursed his lips -seeming to evaluate your words, "-lesson learned, I presume?"

"Very," you replied -simply, wishing for the conversation to navigate elsewhere.

And just as it seemed to (Maggie saying something that the Headmistress just had to dispute), there was a heavy knock on the door.

The room fell abruptly silent, the only noticeable noises being the slight clink of silverware and the creaks of the old chairs. Your father was the first to stand, making his way to the door with a confidence you'd wished you inherited.

The man who stood there was short, a cap situated on his head and a determination in his eyes, "This the Greene residence?"

Your father answered, a little uncertain -blocking the man's eyes from farther into the house, "Yes, I'm Dr. Hershel Greene, is this about work?"

"No sir," he responded -respectful and quite direct before extending a hand forward, a thick piece of paper exchanged between them, "-your family has been invited to the Ball, come next Tuesday. Mr. Grimes personally requested your presence."

Headmistress couldn't hold back a gasp, as Father took the paper -skimming over it with a heavy sort of look, "Personally?"

"Yes, sir. He insisted I bring it to the residence directly."

You thought back to the man, and his insistence on buying you more -just for the lack of one. Poking around the fruit on your plate, you frowned. He was probably married after all, he did have a child -someone as charming as he was most certainly bound to a wife.

Before you could dive further into your sudden despair, your father joined back at the table -slow and sure steps. Opening his mouth to say something, he didn't get very far before the Headmistress snatched the invite out of his hands.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she skimmed over the words, she seemed to digest it (like it could be a fake).

You furrowed your brows, as she seemed to stall.

"I'll be looking forward to your presence signed Mr. Grimes," the Headmistress read out loud -a grin large and wide, "-he wrote us a note! He must be in search of a wife!"

"Miss Elisa," Father tried to calm her, now sitting back in his spot at the table.

"I'm only thinking optimistically, Hershel," she responded -tone much more controlled but still quite touched in tone, "-wouldn't it be wonderful for the girls to have suitors?"

"I'd rather not discuss speculation," your father leveled with her -eyes set in a certainty that not even the Headmistress could refuse.

And that was where the talk of the invite ended.

Your father was rather stubborn in his restrictions, and starting any sort of rumors about a man he respected was far below his limit. It wasn't even mentioned until that Saturday afternoon at the seamstress.

"Beth, dear," Headmistress hummed -rapting her knuckles on the small room she'd been dressing in, "-how does the blue one fit?"

It was a beautiful blue dress that matched her eyes with pillowing sleeves -layers of fabric heavy on the skirt. The cotton seemed soft to the touch, and you thought it a very good match to your sister -she'd suited it well from what you assumed. Beth hadn't shown the dress to you yet.

"It needs to be tightened," she echoed with a huff -frustrated, "-I can't reach-"

"Alright, alright," your Headmistress responded, her tone calming and direct -as she navigated into the room to help.

With that, you sighed deeply. Rather unamused by the extensive shopping you found yourself currently in, you enjoyed getting new dresses, really. It was just a long process, and for whatever reason, the Headmistress had always focused on you last.

It was rather stuffy in the store, dresses hung up in any corner they could. They were beautiful, truly stunning works of fabric and ribbon -you'd trailed your fingers along some of the layers with keen interest. It was always rather fascinating to study how the dresses were made, each individual stitch had its own purpose and you enjoyed the complexity of it.

Maggie grabbed your attention, motioning to a rather fluffy pink dress -detailed by too many rather large ribbons. She pulled it up to her side, posing like she was prim and proper -a grin biting on her face, "What do you think?"

You smiled, always amused by her antics, "We might need to-"

Your eyes caught on the window framing behind her, and there was someone so familiar there. You'd only seen a glimpse, but it had struck you so intricately, your eyes peered the area looking for whoever you recognized-

And then, you saw him.

He was still rather overdressed, darker button-up detailed by a lovely light blue ascot tied around his neck -it looked satin. Actually, he looked much fancier with a peacoat of a rather deep blue splayed across his shoulders, and hair still a little tussled from the day -brown curls resting still rather perfectly. He seemed content on a bench, Judith not present -as he looked on in front of him, absorbed by something quite heavily. You stilled, he was still here?

With a quick thought, you realized just how close the shop had been to the markets -it was a short walk, and you'd done it often. You had a wonderful view, well... right where he was seated. It was treacherous thought flooding your mind that he might be waiting for you.

"Y/N?" Maggie waved her hands in front of your face, starting to match your eyes towards where yours lay on the window, "What are you looking a-"

She stiffened. You hadn't been quick enough to divert her attention, as her eyes skimmed over the figure without much report. Maggie was a very upfront woman, after all.

"Who-"

"We might need to look elsewhere!" you finished your thought, rather loud and squeaky, as you quickly turned to a few other mannequins, "-what about this one, Maggie? I think the color is exquisite, really-"

"Y/N-" she spoke at full volume before you caught her eyes and made a shush motion -head tilting toward the dressing room.

"Everything alright, girls?" your Headmistress asked, most likely from your tone only a few seconds ago. You'd been thoroughly embarrassed it had even left your lips -so loud and not very graceful.

Maggie, a simple master at her craft, replied -without a flinch, "Yes, ma'am. Y/N just slipped on a skirt."

"Right, yes," you spoke, trying to contain the rather squeaky tone your voice had taken on, "-there are some quite long ones."

Headmistress must've accepted this answer, as she no longer responded -assumedly preoccupied with the dress mechanics, you briefly wondered how it had become so complicated. Before the more pressing matter made itself known.

Maggie was a hair away from jumping up and down right there in the seamstress shop, eager to be in on the loop. She'd gotten that trait from Ms. Elisa, you assumed.

Her voice was much quieter now, "Do you know him?"

"Oh, no-" you answered a little too fast, judging by the mischievous glint in her eyes only gleaming brighter, "-I just think he's rather handsome, that's all."

As if on cue, the man looked in the direction of the window of the shop. You don't know why, maybe the old man on the corner had grabbed his attention or the little boy who was currently chasing a butterfly down the street. It didn't matter, because his eyes neatly settled on you.

As if you were the only one on the street. Your cheeks turned a fantastic crimson at the mere thought-

And then, they shifted -flickering to your side. Where Maggie stood, grinning brightly and waving to the man. You were going to kill her.

With a little questioning look smoothing across his face, he raised his hand and waved back. His right hand, you noticed. (There was no ring.) You bit down the little flutter your stomach had done, bashfully raising your hand to wave as well.

The smile that stretched across his face was incredibly telling.

Maggie grinned even wider, not turning to face you, "You know him, how do you know him?"

"Well-"

Before you could say anything else, the man seemed to falter for a minute -turning to his side and grabbing something you couldn't quite see. He then lifted it, seeming to try and show it to you. It seemed to be a delicately woven basket one with much better craftsmanship than your own. You hadn't known what to expect in it, except-

Oh, he was waiting for you. He had the berries.

Your sister couldn't hold the pose, now fully turning to face you-hands gently taking your arms, "He's got a present."

"It's not quite a present, really-" you started.

Maggie didn't wait, eyes darting to the room where your other sister and Headmistress stayed stationed. Before she seemed to decide something -a familiar determination sparked in her eyes.

"Go," she whispered.

You opened your mouth, "What about-"

"I've got it," she reassured, a sort of warm affection bubbling up her voice, "-I'll lock them in there if I have to."

You rolled your eyes, knowing better than to argue with your sister, "I'll be quick, I promise."

Maggie rolled her eyes and pushed you to the door -scampering off to find whatever distraction she intended on using. God, you truly loved her.

As soon as you exited the shop, the man raised to his feet -almost on instinct. You frantically looked across the street, keeping an eye on oncoming carriages -before hastily making your way to the bench where he now stood.

He was laughing by the time you got there, the sound sent a familiar buzz up your spine, "In a hurry?"

"A bit," you answered -brushing a bit of dirt off your dress at the commotion, "-let's say I'm on borrowed time."

"I could've come to you," he said, so genuinely that you found you had to remember your point of being here. He apparently had a way of making you forget what you were doing.

"You couldn't," you responded, before scrambling to explain, "-wait, that sounded a bit rude. My apologies, it's just my Headmistress would lose it if she saw me so much as speaking to a man. She wants to marry us off, and any living breathing specimen is of enough quality to her."

"I'd hope I was better than a specimen," he smiled, a lilt in his voice that sounded quite close to teasing, "-do you refer to lots of men as specimens, Ms. Greene?"

"Just you," you quipped and he broke out into a sort of laughter -head thrown back, pure joy. You were quite proud of yourself for that one, holding your head slightly higher at the boost -smiling at his contagious one.

"Right, well," he added, clearing his throat to try and regain his composure, "-I'll keep note of 'at. Oh, and before I forget, here's the berries I owe ya."

And then, the basket (which surely was worth more than everything you currently wore) was extended to you. You could already see that it was filled with an assortment of berries, not just the single blueberry Judith had actually eaten.

"Oh, I couldn't, really-"

"I insist," he repeated, familiarly, and you found you couldn't quite fight the man in front of you.

"At least take the basket back, sir," you urged, a bit mesmerized by the handwoven pieces, "-I can't imagine what it's worth."

"Think of it as a gift."

"No," you reiterated, "-this must've cost a fortune. I can't-"

"Ms. Greene," he straightened, blue eyes glazing over your face in a way that almost worsened the crimson stain on your cheeks -something of fond, "-it's a gift, an' I'd be rather honored if ya accepted it."

You sighed, a bit defeated, "Alright, thank you, sir. I have no way of repaying you though-"

"How about a-" he began, fidgetting slightly with his coat -as if he was nervous. Why would he be nervous?

"Y/N," Maggie hissed across the courtyard, a sort of nerves in her eyes -you knew she'd already been cutting it close.

"I'm so sorry," you spoke, trying to genuinely portray it in your voice, "-really. If I see you again, please do approach me. Maybe we can have a complete conversation?"

He smiled, noting before you could leave, "Will do, Ms. Greene, enjoy the fruits. I got quite a wide selection, didn't know what you'd prefer."

"I'm sure they're lovely."

And then, without much of a notice, you rushed back into the seamstress shop -only chancing a look back when you came back inside. When you did, he stood in the same place -eyes intently focused on you, and gently waving his hand.

You laughed, timidly waving back.

Maggie was staring at you as you turned around, the gleam from earlier only sparkling even brighter.

You started, trying to stop the train before it even started, "Maggie-"

"You're telling me everything."

Then, the door creaked open -Beth (still in the dress she came in) as her eyes settled on the basket you held carefully in front of your skirt, and your Headmistress rumbling something about corsets.

"Girls, I think-" she started, before faltering, her own eyes settling on the rather extensive stash of fruit you'd gathered, "Where did you get that?"

The Headmistress was already making her way to you, brushing her fingers over the woven material -much like she had handled the invitation. So delicate as if it was the finest piece of china.

"Just someone repaying a debt," you answered, vaguely.

Ms. Elisa furrowed her brows, glancing at you with a deep, questioning gaze but you refused to break, "An expensive debt, I assume? That craftsmanship could probably pay for three new dresses from scratch, dear."

The Headmistress continued her path to the dresses, calling out to Beth to join her -leaving you stunned in your own path.

"Everything," Maggie reiterated, her tone doused in much of the amazement you'd felt.

"Everything," you agreed.

[mercurial-cool]

💜Ambrosia Progress Update 💜

Hello lovely Bloodweave community! Since my last post was me nearly four months ago saying that a new Ambrosia chapter would likely be coming by the end of the year (lol), I just thought I'd pop back in here to give a quick little "proof of life" post and reassure anyone still wondering that, at least in theory, it still has not been abandoned -- I just took a little time away from working on it for various reasons.

[That's the important part of what I wanted to share, but I'm inserting a cut below for some additional self-indulgent rambling for anyone who wants a bit more context.]

One reason for the hiatus was that my job got crazy towards the end of the year, which both took away from my writing time and also my BG3-playing time, making it harder to jump back in and capture the characters' voices as accurately as I felt I could when I was playing more regularly. And the other, more recent and much sillier reason is that I accidentally and unexpectedly stumbled into an obsession with Formula 1 and had some writing ideas for that fandom that my brain demanded that I act on immediately... so, if you subscribed to me for Ambrosia updates and get a notification soon that I've de-anoned 45k words of (AO3 member-locked) Formula 1 RPF, I am so sorry for the possible bait-and-switch lmao. (But congratulations to the, like, three other people who might exist with me at the center of the Venn diagram of those two fandoms haha... I'd love to know if you're out there!)

I'll admit that I've felt guilty for doing that other writing while Ambrosia was still unfinished. I've never had anything I've written come anywhere close to the level of popularity that Ambrosia has reached, and it was something I've truthfully found a little overwhelming at times. At the very least, it's prompted me to feel quite a bit more anxious and perfectionistic about whether any new chapters I put out "live up to" the bar that's been set by how much people have enjoyed the previous chapters. None of that is to diminish how unbelievably appreciative I am of the people who have taken the time to read and comment on Ambrosia -- I still read and am grateful for every single comment that comes through, even though I've done a shit job of responding to them lately (another source of no small amount of guilt).

But I think I needed to take some time to do some writing that didn't have the self-imposed pressure of quite so many eyes. And now that I've done that, I'm excited to return to Ambrosia refreshed and with a healthier perspective. I know better than to actually try and give a timeline this time around for when the next chapter might be out, but just know that I'm once again actively working on it, and I'm very excited about some of the writing that I've already completed. :)

Thank you (and/or I'm sorry) to anyone who bothered to read this far, and hope you're all doing well. <3

[pansexualkiba]

The whole of 1-A stared at their desks, silence ringing throughout the classroom. Some were simply stunned, while others, like Bakugou, were seething.

Midoriya Izuku had died. It had been sudden, and it had been violent. One second, Midoriya was helpiMidoriya interrupted the paragraph by slamming the door open.

"Sorry I'm late!" Midoriya apologized cheerfully. "The trains were stopped 'cause someone tied some lady to the tracks-"

"DEKU!" Uraraka screamed, launching herself from her desk and tackle-hugging the green-haired boy.

"What the FUCK?!" Bakugou screeched.

"You're alive?!" Kirishima shouted.

"Perhaps this is merely a spirit or possibly a ghost-" Tokoyami speculated.

"Midobaaaaaabe!" Kaminari cried as he rushed to hug Midoriya, narrowly avoiding Todoroki's ice spear.

"Guys?" Midoriya asked. "I-"

"Hang on." Shouji interrupted. He thumbed a faint bump on the back of Midoriya's neck. "What is this?"

"They chipped you like a dog?" Kouda wondered.

"Deserved." Bakugou grumbled.

"Oh, that's my personality and memory chip, or PMC." Midoriya explained, as if this wasn't something completely insane.

The class stared at him.

"Memory chip?" Aoyama asked.

"Yeah!" Midoriya explained. "I'm a clone of the real Midoriya with all of his memories and personality! So I'm essentially the same person!"

"HUH?!"

"Did Hatsume-kun do this?!" Iida demanded.

"If she had perfected cloning technology, don't you think you have bigger problems than a clone of Midoriya-chan, kero?" Asui pointed out.

Iida sat down, thoroughly haunted.

"Wait, maybe Twice?" Kirishima wondered.

"Bubaigawara was extrajudicially murdered by Hawks." Uraraka disagreed. "And I haven't broken Himiko out of jail yet, so it can't be her."

"I am going to ignore that you said that." Aizawa grumbled from the desk, where he had pulled out a bottle of rum and begun drinking straight from the bottle.

"Guys." Midoriya said, catching their attention. "It's my cloning machine. I built it back when I was thirteen."

"THIRTEEN?!"

"Yeah." Midoriya shrugged. "See, I got really into trying to figure out Quirks that rapidly generate or transmute biomass, and I hit a wall in my research that I just couldn't satisfy by hacking into medical databases like usual-"

"HUH?!" Everyone screamed. Midoriya ignored them to continue rambling.

"So I figured that if people can do all kinds of crazy stuff with their cells naturally, then why can't I figure out a way to mimic them? Anyways, it turns out it's not so bad once you get into the swing of things." Midoriya explained.

"The swing of-" Ojiro stuttered. "Midoriya, that's a crime. You're a criminal."

"So's Kacchan, but you don't see me complaining." Midoriya pointed out.

"I SAID I WAS SORRY!"

"Wait, this all sounds expensive." Uraraka pointed out. "How did you get the materials?"

"Sold scrap I found while picking up litter." Midoriya casually explained. "The rest came from me using Kacchan's gaming PC to mine bitcoin."

"Is THAT why my shit started running like ass?!" Bakugou realized angrily.

"Don't take it personally." Midoriya assured Bakugou. "I also used all the computers at Aldera."

"I don't care about that." Bakugou shook his head. "What I care about is you COST ME A TOURNAMENT WIN."

"Kacchan, are you still playing Apex-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT VALORANT-"

[yellowhollyhock]

raph vs a volcano day 20

The 1987 episode plot:

Donatello's health scanner predicts Raphael has only 24 hours to live. Raphael goes around doing good deeds and taking ridiculous risks because he's gonna die anyway. Meanwhile Donatello figures out his machine didn't work right and means to tell Raphael, but you see he is distracted doing good deeds and taking ridiculous risks. It culminates with Raph inside an active volcano (trying to stop it from erupting? bro??) and his brothers have to come rescue him.

I love this episode. For so many reasons.

1) What an interesting way to give Raph his role while keeping him in character within the new role they gave him for this show. Because Mirage Raph is the guy who always wants to help without pausing to think about whether they can. He's known for sometimes being impulsive and always being protective. And not just of his fellow turtles! He sees someone in trouble he wants to help. But usually in Mirage that's expressed with violence. So for the show they made the "crazy one" express the same traits through sarcasm instead and he became the witty one, and I love how future Raphs are both. And I especially love when 1987 Raphael himself is both

2) This is such a classic plot. It's like... the tribbles spoof/tribute or 'character gets kidnapped but acts so annoying they get released.' You know the kinds of plots I mean right? Our style of storytelling has changed (it's always changing) but tv shows in late 80s early 90s especially had these. You could pretty much guess the plot from the title because you know the characters and you know the story. The exciting reveal is mostly the jokes. There are words for what I'm saying but I haven't had an english class in a few years, so take this ramble and trust me. It's a beautiful example of whatever this is. And!

---2a, It doesn't have the classic resolution that 'character thought they had one day to live due to a misunderstanding' would have on a kids show. There isn't a 'moral' about seizing the moment and using your time wisely. There also isn't a moral about communication, so instead of the miscommunication being annoying like it would in a preachy episode, it's gloriously hilarious to watch

3) Speaking of that, the obligatory 'he tried to ask' scene is Raphael watching Michelangelo cry on Donatello's shoulder because "I'll miss him so much" "I'm sorry there's nothing I can do for him" it's the oven. The oven is broken. Michelangelo is sobbing in Donatello's arms like his world is ending because they're going to have to get a new oven because this one's beyond fixing. And Raphael fully believes that Michelangelo is begging Donatello to fix him, when this version of Donatello is so very none medic. Like I don't even know how to describe why and how much I love this scene. I think I killed english

4) The scene of Raphael in the volcano. I just. He's so funny. This episode really captures what I love about the whole show, which is that I am absolutely buying into it and feeling deeply about it, and simultaneously enjoying it ironically. Does that make sense? When you can put your whole heart into unironic enjoyment but your brain at the same time gets it's 'make fun of this' treat. So both types of fun at once.

---4a it's not trying to fix the plot holes it's enjoying that in this format you don't have to. I feel like this is severely under utilized in modern cinema. make things not make sense on purpose for fun. don't explain about where they are, how they carried that object with them, why there were not other consequences for certain actions. The fun thing about stories is they don't have to be realistic unless you want them to

so for today I had intended to write a Rise version of this episode. I think it would work well for them. Plus, Raph and Donnie bonding. However. That is going in drafts and will be coming. later (march for raph is my opportunity to collect drafts for the rise turtles apparently.) I'm actually still debating if Donnie would make a health-o-meter or if something goes down in witch down, but either way, ❤️💜