#Mentos Challenge

[puppydog-princess]

they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks but a round of trauma and mental breakdowns will give it SO many new kinks

[brokegradstudents]

I forgot that I actually need to show off my body (look at that fat ass!) And not just my gut (so jiggly!)

Anyways, I'd love to do a diet coke and mentos bloat, but I need y'all's help to do it.

1 post interaction = 1 mento

1 Tumblr follow = 1 mento roll (up to 5)

1 paid OF sub = 1 bottle of diet coke (16oz, up to 5)

Time limit: 1 week

Whole bloat will be posted for free subs on OF

Extra content will be available for paying subs

[yeonban]

&. 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

@m-11o asked: ❛ do you mind if i sleep here tonight? ❜ / TOBIAS YESSS

❛ Does a sunflower mind the warmth of the sun's rays? ❜ What a sophisticated manner of offering a response while neither affirming nor denying the contents of the posed question. Does a sunflower mind? It depends entirely on the context, and to what degree the receiver's subjectivity affects what he wishes to believe about the answer. From Tobias' perspective... if the rays of sunshine simply caress the sunflower's petals every once in a while, then their warmth is a most appreciated symbol of a great day to come. If they overstay their welcome, however... the perpetual warmth is bound to burn the sunflower's petals stiff. If that's the case; what does it spell out for the two orphaned geniuses' current situation?

Does Tobias mind Mello's presence nearby? No, of course he doesn't; why would he ever oppose the fun that his friend tends to bring along whenever they meet. But does he mind Mello interfering with his previous plans? Now that is a question more worth mulling over.

Nonetheless, the smile on the brunette's face doesn't falter despite the mild disturbance; and he supposes he can postpone his scheduled meetings for a night or two and stay at home to keep Mello company for the time being (he doesn't exactly trust the other to remain alone in this house) even if the fun will disappear as soon as the other heads to bed. If so, he should try to make the most of the time they have together while Mello's still awake. ❛ You're not planning on going to sleep anytime soon though, are you? C'mon Mello, I've missed you, let's catch up on what we've been doing since the last time we've seen each other. You can have my bed later, it's not going anywhere. ❜

[saintshadow]

“ URANIAN ASPECTS & PEOPLE

#001 sun & moon

Author’s Note: This is a deeper breakdown of my own personal experiences as a uranian individual and what I’ve witnessed in others with this aspect.

I’m starting w a couple of general observations, things that have REALLY stuck out to me pattern wise.

I’ve met so many ppl strongly influenced by Uranus & I rlly feel like it’s bc uranian ppl tend to flock together 😹

Bc I’ve noticed that in a friend group or in real electrical stimulating connections you’ll find that most people share the energy. I believe it’s simply because they tend to share a deeper sense of camaraderie especially because it can be a very alienating energy.

Another big one is violent outbursts, hysteria, or outright instability. Feeling threatened by authority, or being perceived as a threat by authority.

Bi-polar disorder is something I’ve seen be pretty common amongst those who carry this energy. Being vilified, outcasted, exiled, abandoned, or running from commitment are also super common themes.

I don’t inherently consider Uranus to be a trauma indicator, because while it is chaotic and can be difficult it ultimately is an incredibly potent & powerful energy. In my observation it has the most difficult time and is the most difficult in childhood. The “trauma” is usually alienation, abandonment, or some kind of rejection or exile from social groups even including adults, teachers, and general authority figures.

Uranus - Sun : HIGHLY intelligent people, very outgoing and eccentric depending on the signs. For fire you see someone who is very flamboyant & who can become very aggressive if they are challenged. We also see someone who naturally goes against the status quo- The attention it brings depends on the individual of course; but what I find with Uranus is you just tend to be polarizing. Some could feel offended, upset, confused, or even challenged by you. Perhaps being torn down by the father or having a father who does not take well to being challenged. I find that uranian people are often plagued by the expectations and desires of others.

On the flip side, people might admire you for your uniqueness- you could be ahead of your time. Humorous, even very optimistic and perhaps a bit flighty or restless. Ive seen tendencies towards ego mania, as well as complete isolation- being disliked being judged, accidentally TRIGGERING others. Something about Uranus just pushes not only the natives but others to the brink.

Uranus - moon (mento illness aspect frfr)

But either way, HIGHLY intelligent ppl, very erratic tho. Can be nonsensical or prone to hysteria, can become obsessed with patterns/symbolism/imagery. Very visual feelers in a way, they may also have highly fluctuating sleep schedules.

One month you’re waking up at the ass crack of dawn the next year you sleep almost uncontrollably to moon.

Instability in the childhood or in the mother, mood disorders, bipolar, psychotic delusion, you name it- but in other cases it can look like extreme apathy- detachment from others. Deeply introverted existence for some, can be driven to emotional outbursts if healthy expression isn’t found.

Children w this interaction can have meltdowns akin to that of an autistic person as a child if they are not taught emotional regulatory skills. Common sense may be harder to grasp, and there can be tendencies towards unpredictable behaviors, emotions, and internal worlds.

Very creative, very psychic, prophetic visions, telepathy & psychic phenomena

Uranus is CONFUSING, outsiders & natives themselves often can’t seem to pin down or label themselves accurately either.

Blessed with extreme intellect, and seemingly otherworldly gifts and ideas. Many uranian people can feel trapped by their humanity, their emotions, identity, etc and struggle to feel comfortable or safe in the world around them. Uranian people can tend to feel as if they are at the whims this cosmic roller coaster, however the energy can be wielded. 🫶🏻

[chunkubis-xxx]

For instance, there’s going to be a full video of this coke and mentos challenge ;)

[purplebass]

I know I've already had one, but I'd love to hear about Lila from you for the ask game!

anon also asked this question :)

yes 🫡

How I feel about this character

if Kell is my husband, then Lila is my wife. she is passionate and raw and blunt, which are personality traits that either attract you or scare you, or both (I think this is how kell feels about her). she can get her hands on anything bc she challenges the odds. she is determined and confident, but don't let it fool you bc lila is also anxious and she fights her fears with avoidance by throwing herself into situations (or away from them). she fakes it until she makes it and tries hard in spite of the odds and these are some of the things I love about lila. I'm anxious and depressed and have low self-esteem. lila gives me hope that you can become who you desire to be and that you can make your dreams come true. and that you can also be whoever you want to be. but first, you have to believe in yourself. thinking about lila makes me feel good. I love lila bard so much and the fact that she's so complex is even more attracting in my eyes.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

only with Kell. she has chemistry with everyone, I admit it, but kellila has captured me. they aren't perfect. on the other hand, they are messy and that's their imperfection that draws me in. they rarely do the things the ordinary couples you see in books do. they have their own ways to care for each other and to say I love you. like I said on kell's post, they are like coke and mentos but also like cake and chocolate frosting. and reading them makes me feel a lot of emotions bc they are the masters of angst, and I love to explore their dynamic. they are indeed shades of magical romance.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Alucard, definitely. They are so alike in some ways, and he's blunt when it comes to calling her on her bs or disagreeing. They also have a similar sense of humor which makes them a comedic duo. Lila cares for Alucard so much and is so loyal to him and it's nice to see a friendship so strong in a book.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don't think I have unpopular opinions about Lila. the first time I read adsom, there were some instances where she made me angry a bit. but then as I read more, I became familiar with her psychology and saw the reason why. Lila is one of the most controversial adsom characters, just like Holland is (there are several parallels between the two). there are some who would burn her at the stake and some who would burn with/for her at the stake. I think the allure to me lays in this precisely: lila is a jester, a joker. you never know what to expect and this throws you off bc it's scary! but I also believe some people only skim the surface of her character and judge based on her actions, without trying to go deeper and wonder "why did she say/do that?"

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I've always been curious about what happened to her father, bc I'm sure he's alive. perhaps Lila could encounter him in red london? I also want to know more about her backstory and delve in her trauma, bc there is plenty that due to the avoidant nature of her character hasn't been the focus of the story.

thank you!!

[phoebepheebsphibs]

.Dead asleeP.

Title: Chapter 1: COMA Prompt: You were peacefully sleeping when you suddenly wake up to the sound of a heart monitor steadily beeping somewhere nearby, and realize you are in the med-bay with no memory of what happened prior to this. // After watching movies with your siblings all night and passing out in the tv room, you wake up to find that you're alone. What happened? Fandom: ROTTMNT Word Count: 1,927 Author: PhoebePheebsPhibs Rating: Gen Characters: Leonardo, minor Michelangelo, Donatello, & Raphael (disembodied voices) Warning: Derealization, nightmare-ish stuff (Leo is stuck in a dream) Summary: Leo enjoys a calm sleepover with his family... but when he wakes up in the middle of the night, everyone is gone, and the world starts to turn upside down... Notes: No Beta, We Die Like Gram-Gram! More chapters to follow (5 more, to be exact)

@shr00mi3writefight @tmnt-write-fight @that-0n3-shr00mi3

Posted on AO3 <-

Leo missed having nights like these. The five of them, watching movies late into the evening and early into the mornings. Bowls of popcorn emptied within the first fifteen minutes, stacks of pizza for them to scarf down, liters upon liters of soda, boxes of candy for everyone to enjoy, and plenty of pillows and blankets so that not a single square foot of the concrete and metal-grated floor was exposed. The classic Hamato-O'Neil sleepover extravaganza.

Leo battled April with their typical pun battles, where one would make a joke using wordplay, and the other would have to follow suit with a similar or related word. Leo started off saying that all her jokes would be 'cheesy'. April assured him they were all 'gouda'. Leo retorted that her jokes 'were like swiss cheese -- too many holes'. And so on and so forth, gaining complaints and boos from the rest of the group as they went on. Raph brought out all his cuddlies and stuffies, letting each sibling take one for comfort... should they decide to watch any scary movies. Their energy came in waves, the first dissipating after the first J.J. film. They paused, had some food and snacks, watch some 'Try Not To Laugh' challenges, failed the challenges, and then the second wave hit. Donnie set up a special game he'd heard about and fixated over for them all to play. At some point, Mikey started laughing too loudly and accidentally screamed in April's ear. Leo was making fun of the characters with his colour commentary and annoyed Donnie into pushing him off the couch. Raph decided it would be cool to see if a mint in Vitamin Water and shaking it would have the same effect as a Mentos in Diet Coke. News flash, it did.

So the night was going really great!

Leo cackled as he pulled Donnie off the couch with him. Raph panicked and dropped the bottle once it started foaming and exploding, and April grabbed the drink and used it as a weapon against them. Donnie started a massive pillow fight and created a battlefield. Once their second wave of energy had depleted, and the pizza boxes were all but empty, they settled down to continue the movie night. It was really nice, having everyone over together like this. Leo tried to recall the last time they'd gotten together like this and had a massive celebration...

Mikey laughed as he pointed to the screen, cackling madly. Raphael had fallen asleep watching Jupiter Jim's Pluto Vacation 4 and broken the coffee table with his face again. Donnie and April groaned loudly, but Leo and Mikey high-fived with glee.

Just another fun family night. One Leo was so extremely grateful for. Though, he didn't have any real need to feel that way. The Shredder was locked away, Big Mama was not causing any problems (that they knew of), and his family had never felt closer since Splinter had shared the a good portion of his past with them. Everything was... perfect. Sure, things had been kind of rocky before. Concerning Leo's portals needing more experience, the secrets that Splinter kept from them about their origins, Draxum being a villain, and the Shredder's resurrection. Among other things.  They needed a night like this. To unwind, relax, take it easy and have a laugh. They were all just teenagers, after all.

Leo leaned back in his sleeping back, propped up with pillows to form a cocoon throne. He chuckled softly at Raph's light snoring, Mikey drawing pictures on his face, April putting curlers into Mayhem's hair and through Donnie's mask tails...

His eyes grew heavy.

Leo fell asleep.

"Leo, wake up, Leo!"

"Can he hear us? I think he can --"

"How do we know this will work?"

"It just will. It has to."

"Don't give up on us, Leo... C'mon, get up... get up...!"

"Leo?"

Leo's eyes fluttered open. He yawned, and turned over in his sleeping bag.

"Wake me'up... wh'n iz... morn'n....."

No one responded. The lair was silent. Leo couldn't even hear the movie playing.

He sat up slowly, glancing around to see if the others had all fallen asleep as well. No one was here. The projector was still running softly, but there was no sound, no image. Just TV snow -- static buzzing across the screen as the machine whirred and whined with exhaustion. Huh. Weird, he'd never known the projector to do that... Leo tilted his head in confusion. The screen blinked at him oddly. The static took soft shapes Leo could almost swear he saw images in the interference. It must be his imagination.

⠀⢀⡀⡄⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠲⢶⢶⢲⠄⠀⢴⠦ ⢸⡈⣷⢱   ⠏⣾⢾⢸.    ⠿⡀⠀⠀⢸⢸.  ⡿⢹⠀⢸⡈⣷⢱⠲⢶⢶⢲ ⠀⠁⠀⠈⠉⠈⠀⠈  ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⡇⢸⢻⠀⡞⢠⠖⢦⠀⣇⡤⠂⣠⠶⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⡆⢰⠴⠢⡄ ⠀⢳⡏⠀⣷⠃⢶⣉⣹⡀⡏⠳⣀⢯⣉⡩⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣀⣯⢻⣄⣠⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠂⠀⠀ ⢸⡈⣷⢱   ⠏⣾⢾⢸.    ⠿⡀⠀⠀⢸⢸.  ⡿⢹⠀⢸⡈⣷⢱⠲⢶⢶⢲ ⠀⠁⠀⠈⠉⠈⠀⠈  ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠲⢶⢶⢲⠄⠀⢴⠦

But the instant Leo called his attention to it, the projector popped, fizzled, and disconnected.

Huh. Must be the sleep deprivation...

Leo's attention came back to the emptiness of the room. Where had everyone gone? It was too dark and too quiet to be morning yet. Maybe... they'd all gone to get more snacks? It was a silly idea, but the only probable one he could think of. Leo rose to his feet, stretched, and clambered over the sea of pillows and cushions surrounding the area. He wondered what time it was. He tried to find his phone... but, uh... hm. That was unlike him, to leave his phone unattended. Oh well, he didn't actually need it. Besides, there were other clocks in the lair. Leo roamed into the halls, which seemed a lot longer and more dominated by shadow than usual. These shadows were strange, rounding about the walls and ceiling and floor as if they were cloth rolling down a hole. In fact, the more Leo focused on the world around him, the more it seemed distorted and out of place. The photos on the walls were tilted and slanted, the images were too blurry to be discernible. There were doors that he did not recognize, practically littering the hallway. And the hallway itself went on for miles and miles and miles. Leo eventually saw a door that felt familiar. Felt familiar. It did not look familiar. But being near the door felt like being at the end of a task you forgot you were doing. Recognition of completion. He opened the door.

It was the kitchen. And it was empty. No one was here... huh. Weird. Where had they all gone? Leo glanced at the wall clock. The hand were at... uh... He couldn't read the numbers. There weren't any numbers. And for whatever reason, he couldn't recall in what order numbers ran, or where they started on a clock. At the top? The middle? The bottom? Where was the 1 supposed to be? And which hand represented the hour?

Uh... h-he didn't really want to see the time, anyway. It would just remind him of how many hours he had left to try and sleep.

"You've been sleeping enough, I think..."

Who said that?

Leo glanced around room anxiously. The once warm light was starting to dim, darken, desaturate. It was getting pretty cold in here. Leo ran out of the room, and looked down the halls. The way back to the living room was pitch black, and getting darker and scarier by the minute.

"This way, Leo! Follow us!"

Leo turned to look the other way.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel! A deep, warm, golden amber light. He'd go that way. Leo started running. It was so hard to run, he felt like he was running through water, or molasses. Slowed down to a crawl, he forced his arms and legs to move as fast as they could to escape the oncoming, ever consuming darkness.

"Come on, Leo, you can do it!"

"You've got this, dude! Keep going!"

"Don't give up!"

Leo struggled hard, gritting his teeth and growling with strained effort.

"Rrrrrgh! Who ARE you weird disembodied voices, anyway?! What have you done with my family?!"

The voices didn't answer. Or maybe they did, he just wasn't hearing them anymore. Everything felt like slow motion.

Leo finally made it to the edge of the light. As soon as his fingers touched the sparkling beams, he felt the effects of the darkness bleed off of him, ebbing away like the tide as he crawled out of its reach. The cold chill that had been clawing at his heart and lungs was now replaced by a glorious sensation of healthy warmth. The air sparkled, chasing the dark back into the abyss. The light brightened, beckoning him. Something about this light felt like... like... Like Mikey, somehow. It mirrored his bright personality. Leo could almost swear that touching the light was like holding his hand. He could feel the weight in his palm.

"...Mikey?" he asked aloud, eyes wide with shock at how familiar and real it all felt. The realest thing here...

"He felt me!"

"Huh?" Leo asked, still unsure where the voice had come from...

But before he could discern anything, his feet started moving again, almost as if he was no longer in charge. He strode through the tunnels, following the light.

"Don't worry, Nardo, we'll help you get back."

"We'll be right here beside you, no matter what."

"Anatawa hitorijinai."

"I don't speak... whatever that is," Leo mumbled sleepily. He wondered why he felt so drowsy all over again.

But Leo felt like the voices weren't malevolent. They weren't evil, or cruel. Maybe they had done something to his family, maybe not. It felt more like they wanted to help return him to them. Leo wasn't an overly trusting guy, but he was willing to stake his life for his family's sake.

He was willing to follow the light.

[xylo-art]

Oh! Oh! Requests! Hornet doing the shawda+mentos challenge(it's like soda but Silksong branded)!

NOT SMART MA’AM

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

"Well, I study, then study, then after a little study break, I study."

20th September 2024, Friday

day 26/50 productivity challenge

💤: 14 hrs - 😀 hehe so..

🕒 3 p.m. - dw i am ashamed

[window view from inside house] [bio notes]

drew diagram biology ch: structural organisation in animals

duolingo

showered

studied + made notes biology ch: biological classification (not fully)

read 40 pages of the ballad of never after

[more bio notes] [afternoon coffee] *sigh* each day i say i'm gonna grind & each day i do not, in fact, grind

🕒 3:30 a.m. - went to bed, the thing is i tried sleeping at 2a.m. but i just couldn't & so i ended up reading (& binge-eating all my mentos 😭 like 2 packs fml)

🚰: 3 glasses

🎧: strawberries & cigarettes - troye sivan

[the-mighty-mittens]

Incorrect end roll quotes yippee

Gardenia: I dare you-

Yumi: Russell is not allowed to accept dares anymore.

Gardenia: Why not?

Russell: "I have no regard for my own or others personal safety", as some would say.

Russell: Thanks for pulling the fire alarm, you saved me from giving an oral report about The Scarlet Web.

Gardenia: You were too lazy to read the book?!

Russell: I was too lazy to watch the movie.

Cody: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Dogma and not do the thing,

Cody: Well there’s a clear right answer here.

Cody: *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke*

Tabasa: You're ignoring all your problems.

Russell: I know.

Tabasa: You also know it's an unhealthy coping mechanism?

Russell: I'm ignoring that fact as well.

Tabasa:

Cody: Who the fuck-

Dogma: Language!

Cody: Whom the fuck-

Dogma: No.

Informant: *slams books down in front of Russell*

Informant: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night.

Russell: You could of said literally anything else.

Informant: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble.

Russell: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now.

Russell, playing a video game: How do I play?

*Russell has drawn first blood!*

*Russell is on a killing spree!*

*Russell is on a rampage!*

*Russell is unstoppable!*

*Russell is dominating!*

*Russell is godlike!*

Russell: Don’t worry guys, I figured it out.

Chris, holding in their laughter: Hey, how do you ask a glass of water what it’s doing?

Russell: A glass of water is an inanimate object. Therefore, it's incapable of having a thought process or understanding basic human language.

Chris:

Chris: Water you doing?

Chris: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products!

Chris: *sprays hairspray in their mouth*

Chris: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good.

Chris: So I got this amazing plan!

Russell: We fail almost every time you say that.

Chris: Well this is the same! But with a hamster involved.

Chris: What do you have?

Russell: A KNIFE!

Chris: NO!

Chris: Life is like Russell. It's short.

Chris: I don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me first.

Russell: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

Russell: I’ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'little shit’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun’. (Note: Russell... No)

Russell: Of course I have a lot of pent-up rage, you fool! I've been the same height since I was twelve! (Note: I already did this joke but here it is again)

Gardenia: You look mentally ill.

Russell: I am. Let’s go.

Russell: Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions.

Dogma: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Gardenia: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Kantera: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Russell: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

Cody: Did you have to stab them?

Russell: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me.

Cody: What did they say?

Russell: "What are you going to do, stab me?"

Cody: That’s fair.

Kantera: What's wrong with you?

Russell: Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

Gardenia: iuegrukfhoeuhfeoruhf

Dogma: What is that?

Gardenia: it’s a keyboard smash

Dogma: How do I do it?

Gardenia: just press anything

Dogma: 7

Gardenia: Seriously, Russell, how many people would you have killed if we’d asked you to?

Russell: That’s not important

Gardenia: I DISAGREE.

Cody: Russell, what do you have?

Russell: A KNIFE!

Cody: Okay, have fu-

Yumi: NO!

Cody: Fruits that do not live up to their names; passionfruit, grapefruit, honeydew and dragonfruit.

Cody: Fruits that do live up to their names?

Cody: Orange.

[hautsreadsmarvel]

“Fantastic Four” (1961, issues 13-17)

Disclaimer: I complain a lot here, but I actually think these issues are pretty solid. Yes, even issue 13, regardless of my stance on its unsavory propagandistic tones.

By all rights, I ought skip issue 13, “The Red Ghost And His Indescribable Super-Apes!" Four things:

This issue introduces Uatu the Watcher, a member of a nigh-omnipotent advanced civilization whose members each passively observe other worlds; it also introduces the place he dwells in - the Blue Area of the Moon, which shows up blue on photographs due to the blue ruins there, and has a breathable atmosphere bubble thanks to its advanced tech.

A [Red Menace villain] manages to replicate the F4’s power-granting event by flying a rocket containing himself and his three trained primates into the radiation belt. He gets selective intangibility, his pets gain super-strength, shapeshifting, and magnetic ray projection (which works on the Torch presumably bc there are metal elements in his suit). Tragically, I have been informed that the Red Ghost and his Super-Apes are recurring villains.

Johnny gets a special space suit that lets him flame on (and on and on and on…) in space.

Technically, the F4 are the first Americans on the moon. Sorry, Neil and Buzz. The Red Ghost maybe beat them there though? I’m not sure.

Issue 14 starts w the F4 returning from the Moon and immediately being paparazzi’d. On one hand, I’m sure this portrayal of women is partially explicable by authorial sexism; on the other hand, given the women I know who thirst over John Krasinski… yeah, I guess that’s true to real life.

Torch rescues the others by thermokinetically stimulating a controlled cyclone that pulls them to the roof of the… wait, is it called the Baxter building? I don’t think they call it that yet, but I guess that’s something else I already know about the F4 too.

The Human Torch really said “kys”, lmao.

Anyways the plot is that the Puppet Master returns, puppets Namor into puppeting Sue into becoming Namor’s hostage, then has him issue a challenge to the other Fantastics to rescue her. They beat him, and in the process release a gigantic octopus that beats the Puppet Master, who for some reason was on a nearby submarine (range limitation to his figurines’ powers?)

There’s a lot of kooky underwater creatures and technology at Namor’s disposal, but “giant octopi”, “giant oysters”, “giant undersea organism that fires off spikes when disturbed”, and Atlantean remote-projection technology all kind of make sense to me. The ones that really drew a scoff out of me are the ones that clearly exist just to give Namor powers w/o really giving him powers…

…like, you know, the mento-fish? Like you learned about in school? Fellow fizzes when you pop it in a soda. But also like, the mento-fish didn’t need to exist - Namor has a gizmo in his lair that lets him remotely project an audiovisual of himself all the way to the F4’s HQ.

Hey, what about the hypno-fish? You remember learning about hypno-fish, right? ??????? Why not just have this be technology? See, these being fish poses two problems: one, we now have to accept that these species can just be found in Earth’s oceans whenever a new story goes forward, and two, Namor can mimic the powers of any undersea creature - so now, Namor should have hypnosis, touch-range air bubble projection, and global-range telepathy. Why does he need to command the fish to do these things when his mimic-power should let him do this stuff anyways?

(Flinging my manipulator appendages in the air and gesticulating wildly) ???????

The “Thinker”, a villain* makes a super-smart computer bank that can predict the future w impeccable accuracy. He uses it to convince gangsters to join up w him and strike the F4’s HQ during a time the computers predict they’re all out of town, and a similarly predicted plunging meteor causes a blackout that disables the HQ’s defenses. However, Johnny is unhappy as a circus performer, Reed is unhappy having a boss at General Electric, the Thing is unhappy to discover that wrestling is scripted, and Sue finds that she doesn’t like acting in Hollywood as much as she thought she would. Thus they reunite and come back to their skyscraper, only to find it transmuted to crystal…

Since the Thinker is a villain, he has access to one of the shared powers all villains seem to exhibit at some point or another: hypnosis (the other two being “magnetism that is basically just telekinesis” and “owning a private aerial or nautical vehicle”). Moreover, he’s co-opted Reed’s science notes and devised weapons based on them, including the android pictured on the cover. Obviously the Four break thru all his traps, goons, and monsters… but this is “just as planned”.

Somehow, though, Deus ex machina saves the day, but in a way totally opposite to prior DEMs so far; instead of a hero pulling a new power out of their ass, the villain inexplicably loses efficacy w one of theirs:

Why is this outside the Thinker’s predictions, when it was able to fully account for all the “human element[s]” before? If your villain is too omniscient to fail, but you need them to fail… then why not just make the Thinker not omniscient? Examples would include but not necessarily be limited to:

Make the Thinker’s predictions have noticeable but minor holes elsewhere that start to show up ~midway thru the plot, so that there’s still room for him to be caught by surprise. However, he remains confident in his predictions because he’s either not aware of the holes, considers them so minor as to be unimportant, or is too arrogant to back down now that his plan is succeeding.

Have the Thinker start to bluster and sweat more as the F4 break thru his gauntlet ever so slightly faster at each stage than he thought they would progress, thereby indicating that reality is diverging from his predictions the closer we get to the end-stage.

At a whopping 22 pages, this one is only a little smaller than a Marvelverse book.

The F4 realize they’ve all been intermittently shrinking and then returning to normal size recently. A mocking voice claims they are putty in its hands, and another voice later warns them to ware of DOOM. Shortly after they realize they may need the Ant-Man’s help, that very hero arrives on the scene and provides them some shrinking and reducing precursor molecules. He then faffs off to “try and learn what [he] can in [his] own way--back at [his] lab”, which feels confusing bc what can he do about this at his lab? Anyways, as it turns out, DOOM survived his shrinkening, entered a “micro-world”, and took it over. The F4 use Ant-Man’s shrinking formula to chase him, get subdued, shrunken further by DOOM’s shrink ray, and imprisoned w the shrunken royal family he disposed of priorly.

Fascinatingly, this issue contains one of the few times in any fictional media I’ve ever seen acid not portrayed in some lurid aposematic color. Neat!

Just as fascinatingly, the micro-world has other planets. I wonder if you could see a Tok spaceship thru a microscope.

Dang, the writers really don’t know how to do anything w Sue. On that note, I feel like what she needs is something that gives her soundless 3D movement - like the Vulture’s flight tech! That would solve so many of the issues that lead to her getting detected or captured easily, and would let her scout for the team much more effectively. Alas, the Vulture tech is magnetic, and magnetism is predominantly a villainous technology.

In the climax, Ant-Man returns, follows them into the micro-world, immediately gets captured, and… doesn’t really assist them in overcoming DOOM or repelling the Tok lizardmen, the F4 do that themselves. After being disarmed by Sue, DOOM escapes and returns to the regular size-world, as do our heroes shortly after. This ending leads directly to…

Yes, all of those traps really show up in this issue! I don’t find them very exciting, despite knowing that these would be a real treat to face in an adventure game - the Comics Code Authority guaranteeing that the heroes must always win simply makes it so that any villainous trap gauntlet involves no tension nor threat.

I haven’t highlighted the banter between Torch and the Thing recently, so rest assured that it is still here and I still like it very much, especially since it’s obvious now that it is just banter to them.

Reed devises a gizmo w such finely tuned sensory capabilities as to make any scientific laboratory in the world weep. Unlike most super-tech, I can believe that someone irl could eventually create this (non-invasive and remote imaging tech gets more and more science-fictional every year).

Meanwhile the Torch develops a new pyrokinetic technique. I’m not going to call it an asspull, both because using thermal projection for sonar isn’t super far-fetched if you have such fine pyrokinetic control, and also because we don’t even know if it actually works. The other two also have no luck finding DOOM, but one does not find DOOM; it’s the other way ‘round.

By settling for being an annoying little shit to the heroes rather than actually trying to defeat them, the devilish Doctor cleverly outwits the cosmic force that is the Comics Code Authority and scores his first real W.

Sadly, he then tries to actually defeat the Fantastic Four by abducting Alicia to his private aerial dreadnought, and then to defeat the USA (AMERICA! AMERICA! MAY GOD THY GOLD REFINE TIL ALL SUCCESS BE NOBLENESS) by disabling their factories and missiles - thus causing the baleful glare of the almighty CCA to swing back to him. Thus naturally our brave heroes defeat him, but DOOM escapes yet again to wreak havoc.

Extra pictures: DOOM does not know how to spell “earnest”, and also he looks like a muppet sometimes. And you can do judo on DOOM... maybe he's secretly an ant, under that mask?

*for villain reasons, you wouldn't understand.

[sepulchretide]

Wrong time to take the mentos challenge

[deadbydangit]

This might be strange and you may not even know what I'm talking about, but could you write characters with an S/o who acts like Jinx from Arcane?

Maybe this with Ghostface and Leon? Feel free to add any and all people if you do take the request. Thank you ^^

I did a bit of research on this character. She sounds rather chaotic but intelligent. So I'm going to go with that. I hope that's okay if I add one more to it as well. I hope you enjoy it.

With a Reader who is chaotic and intelligent.

Ghostface, Leon, Legion (Frank)

Ghostface

Yeah, let's fuck some shit up.

You and Danny are like the same person.

Much to everyone else's dismay.

Your collective appetite for chaos knows no bounds.

You could both be asleep when Danny shakes you to wake you up.

"Hey I remember this fucked up joke and wanted to tell you."

And you're both just going to laugh.

And then go right back to sleep.

You're both inseparable.

If he could sneak you into every trial to help him, he so would.

"Like, babe, think of the ways we can kill survivors together."

The Entity, much to everyone's delight, refuses to let that happen.

So you both go terrorize whoever happens to be in the woods at that time.

Not as fun, but still entertaining.

Your intelligence has helped him numerous times when it comes to constricting any sort of trap he'd like.

And he won't have to worry if his precious camera ever gets damaged.

The pranks you pull in each other are great.

The pranks you both work on together are masterpieces.

You are the bain of everyone else's existence.

And you both wouldn't have it any other way.

Leon S Kennedy

He has his hands full with you.

He may have the intelligence to match.

But he's a hero, not... Whatever you are.

He'll often walk in on you building some crazy invention or trap.

He is highly concerned.

More about everyone else.

Because that does NOT look safe.

He does take interest in some of your inventions.

Watching you build and explain them, watching how passionate you are about your craft.

It's super cute to him.

Leon is absolutely going to do that stereotypical hero thing where he tries to make you 'see the light' and 'renounce your evil ways.'

Good luck with that buddy.

Leon is very agile, alert, and fairly smart.

So pulling a prank on him takes some work.

If you do manage, he'll applaud your determination and creativity.

Provided it isn't something dangerous.

If he wants you to hold still for a while, he'll challenge you to a boardgame or chess.

This is where his competitive nature shines.

But it's all in good fun.

He never goes easy on you though.

Just because you love him doesn't mean he's going to let you win.

You've already won his love.

Legion (Frank)

Anarchy! Anarchy!

Frank has no idea what that word means, but it sounded cool and he heard you say it once.

He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed.

But he loves you for the chaotic crazy you are.

He's so down to pull pranks too.

And he's always willing to help you whenever he can.

Need him to sneak into Caleb's workshop to grab supplies for your newest invention?

On it!

"Hey. Want to go put mentos and coke in one of Herman's test tubes?"

That's the closest thing to a science experiment you're going to get from this boy.

Just be honored he's making an effort for you.

You might even see him trying to make inventions of his own.

You inspire him.

His lack of regard for the safety of himself or the safety of others might be a concern to others.

But the both of you couldn't give less of a shit about it.

You only live once.

Well, technically not in the realm.

But it's the principal of the matter.

Frank doesn't know what you mean when you say that, but you're smart and it sounded cool so he's going to say it too.

And, he knows you're cool, so he'll say it.

[tkdrawz]

Could you please draw Dewey, Webby, and Gosalyn being BFFs?

"You're Deweying it! One more pack of Mentos and you'll beat the Junior Woodchuck record!"

"You got this, Dingus! I can't believe the Pep/Mentos challenge was in the guidebook..."

What kind of friend would you be if you didn't push each others' limits then collectively get so grounded your own grandchildren won't get to see you?

[thequeenskeep]

Overthinking 🧠

Highway To Hell

Overthinking manifests as a result of suppression or a lack of forethought. When we are aware of something being wrong and ignore it, we push away valid thoughts and feelings; these can bubble up like a can of soda. Triggers are synonymous to shaking the can. Eventually, when an explosion ensues we are met with every thing we have suppressed up until this point. It can seem erratic and chaotic since we are experiencing everything simultaneously. The longer you have suppressed the more you have to process. This can lead to impulsively reckless decisions. When we invalidate ourselves through suppression and mental workshopping it becomes a habit making unpacking challenging. Oftentimes, we don't have the luxury of fully processing suppressed energy before being exposed to triggers (Mentos). Most people are not malicious; they do no intentionally hurt you. Like us they are unaware of themselves. In conflict there are no "bad guys". Perspective is everything and we are focused on our own.

Unpacking. If you've reached the point of an explosion, the best thing to do is feel it. Allow the tears to fall and let your mind race. Remember we are feeling everything from ground zero. Things we feel we've "gotten over" will be present. They are reappearing to draw our attention to an action that needs to take place. As we allow ourselves to fall down the rabbit hole, we will gain new information that will fall together like puzzle pieces forming the solution. Moments where we or the other party directly or indirectly harmed us will appear further reinforcing the impact.

Eventually, we will be left with an “empty” vessel full of our purified, concentrated energy. It is up to us to identify the tools and supplies necessary to clean the mess. Remember, you are your own separate person outside of the connection with your own thoughts, feelings, and perspective. You are not bad for being so.

Truthfully, I have little experience with preventative measures as this is something I am learning as well. However, the best advice I can give is learn from your experiences. Once you've cleaned the mess think of ways you can release pressure. If something bothers you and you are unable to communicate or correct it, spend time with it. Meditation is a nonnegotiable. Meditation has never been about silencing your mind. Silencing yourself in privacy is a form of self harm (suppression). Allow your mind and emotions to speak to you. As your energies intermingle, you will reach a divine awareness. This is a skill that takes time, practice, and patience. If there's one thing I've learned in my spiritual journey it’s that you're going to mess up A LOT. You are going to disappoint and betray yourself. You are a child; adulthood is a skill built by experience. We must deprogram our brains to reprogram it with new information. Be gentle with yourself, listen to yourself, nurture yourself. You're gonna need it.

[mjonthetrack]

vice queen

Chapter 150: You Touch, You Die

Camille pulled Marissa close with a dramatic flourish, wrapping both arms around her like she was cradling the Holy Grail in a Balenciaga hoodie. The bunker full of men, women, weapons, and whispered loyalties went silent.

“This,” Camille said proudly, chin raised, “is Marissa Lynette Harris. My baby sister.”

A few eyebrows raised, mostly from the men who had no clue Camille even had a sibling, let alone one that looked like a prettier, meaner version of her with gold hoops and a neck tattoo peeking out her collar.

“She’s three years younger than me, and my protected little secret,” Camille continued, tugging her sister’s arm like she was introducing a bomb with a fuse already lit. “But let me make this crystal clear—”

She held up one manicured finger, eyes sharp.

“She’s more volatile than me. Imagine taking my mouth and my attitude, dropping it like a mentos into a gallon of Dr Pepper, and then shaking it to hell.”

The room shifted.

Sefa muttered something under his breath like “God help us all.”

Marissa rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest like the baby pitbull she absolutely was.

“Don’t be babyin’ me in front of these folks,” she snapped, cocking her head to the side. “Let’s just get the basics out the way.”

She stepped forward, scanning the room like she was about to deliver a TED Talk on how to get smoked for playing dumb.

“Bring up my height?” She pointed at Zilla, who had clearly thought about it. “You die.”

“Eat my snacks?” she aimed at Sefa. “You die.”

“Hurt my sister?”

She didn’t even bother pointing. Her voice dropped cold and calm.

“You die slow.”

“Get in my way? You die.” She smirked. “And if you even think about calling me Mars Bars?”

She made a slicing motion across her throat. “You already dead.”

Courtney whispered to Ariel, “She my favorite already.”

Ariel whispered back, “She’s what I thought I was before therapy.”

The bunker was still holding its breath when Marissa added the cherry on top:

“And if anybody’s wondering where I been?” she smiled, all teeth. “I just got out. Ten-year bid. I’m 26. Went in at sixteen. For homicide. So yeah. Test me if you want to.”

Zilla muttered a low whistle. “Ain’t even fully unpacked and already givin’ murder monologues.”

Camille, unbothered and gleaming with sisterly love, grabbed Marissa’s face with both hands like she was still five years old at Easter brunch.

“Awwww, my Marsy Mars!” she cooed, planting loud kisses on her cheeks. “She’s the sweetest lil baby—makes pancakes shaped like stars and still sleeps with her blankie.”

Marissa tried to fight it. Failed. “Camille—DAMN—get off me!”

Too late. Camille had already smacked another kiss to her forehead.

Then Marissa turned sharply, pointed at Jimmy—who was watching this entire thing like a man re-evaluating his whole timeline.

“Ayyeee, Gramps!” she snapped, eyes narrowing like a sniper scoping her mark. “Time ain’t waitin’ on your braids to grow back. My sister better have a ring on her finger by the end of the week, or I’m castrating you first.”

Jimmy blinked.

Then smirked slow. “Damn, y’all both crazy.”

Marissa raised her brows. “And you better love that shit.”

Camille clapped her hands, glowing like the sun in a room full of war plans and ex-felons.

“I told y’all my sister was comin’ in hot.”

And just like that—the bunker officially had another queen in the court, and this one?

Didn’t play none of them reindeer games.

Chapter 151: Down Hoe, Stay Low

The bunker was a machine that never slept. Blueprints on the walls, boots echoing off concrete, deals whispered over espresso shots and ammo. But in the middle of that chaos?

Marissa had locked her sights on a new challenge.

Jacob Fatu.

Tall. Built like a warehouse. 35 with salt creeping into his beard and arms that looked like they’d been bench-pressing betrayal since the 90s. He was quiet, dangerous, and clocked her the moment she walked in like he was assessing if she was a threat or a fever dream.

So naturally?

Marissa strutted her 5’2 self over and leaned against the corner wall near where he was checking blueprints, chewing her gum slow and deliberate.

“You always this serious or is it ‘cause you old enough to remember life before Google?” she teased, smirking.

Jacob grunted without looking up. “What you know about anything before Google?”

“I know enough to know that you walk like you’ve been locked up twice and released both times ‘cause the judge got scared.”

That made him look.

His eyes dragged over her face, her fit, her attitude, then up to the smirk she wore like warpaint.

“You always flirt like you tryna get shot at?”

Before Marissa could throw another line back—

“DOWN, HOE!”

Camille’s voice cut through the air like a guillotine.

Everyone paused.

Even Sefa, who had been leaning half-casually against the gun rack across the room, stiffened like someone just pulled a fire alarm in his chest.

Marissa blinked. “Damn, Sis—”

Camille stormed over in full Big Sis Authority mode, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a long, exhausted sigh. “Not even forty-eight hours out and you already tryin’ to risk it all for the oldest Fatu in the building.”

She turned to the room like she needed a witness. “Y’all… she got a nose for old heads and long-ass jail reps. If you been in a federal cell block longer than you been in a relationship? Marissa probably tryna ride your face.”

“CAMILLE!” Marissa screeched, but not denying it.

Zilla hollered, “She said that with her whole chest tho!”

Even Jey smirked behind his coffee cup. “She don’t miss.”

Sefa stayed silent. But his eye twitched. His jaw clenched just slightly. He watched the way Marissa leaned back into the wall again, unbothered, like she hadn’t just tried to flirt with the family’s war general.

His whole brain was already WiFi-connected to her soul. Like—she mine and don’t even know it yet kinda connection. Possessive, confused, curious as hell.

Marissa caught him watching and winked.

This girl was chaos on purpose.

Jacob, who had gone back to his blueprints, grumbled under his breath, “That’s crazy… everyone got a potential dame now. Even Zilla got his little lap warmer…”

Courtney from across the table: “Say it again and I’ll end your spine.”

“…and I’m just the old head, huh?” Jacob muttered again. “Nobody got a redbone tucked away in the family tree for me, ma?”

Camille rolled her eyes and tossed her curly bun back over her shoulder. “Please. I already got somebody in mind for you…”

Jacob raised a brow.

Camille smirked. “But like always—they dramatic as hell and love to show up late.”

He squinted. “You settin’ me up with a soap opera character?”

“Boy shut up.”

Laughter sparked through the bunker again, but Camille pulled Marissa close by the collar and whispered in her ear, “Keep flirttin’ with war criminals and I’m putting you back in holding.”

Marissa whispered back, “He fine though…”

Chapter 153: Gas Tanks and Soulmates

The bunker was lit in a different kind of way.

Lo had only been there a few hours, but she already claimed her corner like a neighborhood auntie with war stories. She had a whiteboard out, a screwdriver in one hand, and was pacing like a mob professor in a True Crime documentary.

Ariel, Courtney, Marissa, and Camille were all posted around her, half-drinking, half-taking mental notes.

“And THIS, ladies,” Lo announced, tapping the whiteboard where she’d sketched a car engine with a sharpie, “is how you hotwire a 2015-2022 Dodge Charger in under 45 seconds. You don’t need no damn keys—you need guts, a flathead screwdriver, and the will of a petty bitch on a mission.”

Camille was giggling but paying attention.

Marissa? Already writing down notes in her phone like she was prepping for a heist.

Courtney raised her hand like she was in class. “Can you also show us how to fry the transmission if he’s cheating but got good credit?”

Lo pointed at her proudly. “That’s a fantastic question, Ms. Courtney. And I’m glad you asked.”

She tossed the screwdriver on the table, cracked her knuckles, and then pulled out a mini ziploc of plain white granulated sugar.

“This. Right here. Your best friend. Not for coffee. Not for baking. But for vengeance.”

Everyone leaned in.

“Pop his gas tank open. Dump this in. Walk away. The sugar melts just enough to mix with the fuel but crystallizes when the engine heats up. It’ll seize that bitch faster than karma at a baby shower.”

Ariel blinked. “So we out here makin’ car molasses bombs??”

“Exactly,” Lo smirked. “He ghost you? Ghost his engine.”

Meanwhile—

Jacob had been standing across the room the whole damn time, arms crossed, pretending to read something on a clipboard but not hearing a single word on it.

He was watching her.

The way she stood like she ran the cartel. That gold “Finessa” hoop glinting every time she flipped her braids over her shoulder. The southern drawl and the war in her smile. The chaos. The confidence.

She was dangerous.

And he was sold.

A slow smirk crept across his face as he muttered to himself, “Goddamn… that’s wifey.”

Sefa caught the look and side-eyed. “Oh you in trouble trouble.”

Jacob just grunted. “Bout time one of y’all unhinged types was made for me.”

Back at the war table, Lo grabbed her water and took a dramatic sip, then leaned her hip on the edge.

“Any questions?”

Camille leaned back. “Yeah. How the hell did I live this long without you back in my life?”

Lo winked. “'Cause I’d be your third felony if I stayed longer. But now I’m back. So what’s up?”

That’s when Jacob finally walked over. Silent. Heavy. Presence loud as hell.

He looked her dead in the eye.

“Sugar in the tank, huh?”

Lo raised an eyebrow, “Yeah. You got somethin’ to say, Old Head?”

He smirked, deep and dark. “Nah. Just makin’ sure you got enough sugar left for your future husband’s ex too.”

Lo blinked.

The girls all OOOOHHH’d.

Marissa whispered, “Somebody get the ring pop.”

Chapter 154: Glock Mods & Marriage Plots

The door to the interrogation room sealed with a heavy clunk. Silence fell, thick and tense—until the laughter started.

Not from the captive.

From Lo and Marissa.

Lo kicked her heels up on the edge of the table like she was clocked in for fun, not felonies. Marissa, all five-foot-two of prison-trained murder energy, leaned against the wall twirling her Glock like it was a pen cap.

The guy chained to the table? Already damn near in tears.

Lo sucked her teeth, eyes glinting. “You got two options, sweetheart. You give us everything you know—every call, every move, every slimy crumb you tried to flip on us—or…”

Marissa finished the sentence for her, real casual. “Or I test the new barrel mod I installed last week. Shoots cleaner. Hits faster. Sounds sexier.”

She smiled. “Bet your life on it.”

Up in the surveillance room, Camille, Sefa, Jey, and Jacob were all watching on the security feed. Everyone was staring. But Jacob?

He was fixated.

Like. Obsessed.

His arms were folded, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the screen like he’d just seen the ghost of his perfect match holding a semi-automatic and threatening someone over lemon pepper wings.

Sefa leaned over, sipping a protein shake. “Yo. You good?”

Jacob didn’t answer.

On screen, Lo rolled her neck, cracked her knuckles, and pulled out a Tupperware of wings. Lemon pepper wet, just glistening like sin.

Marissa blinked. “Bitch, you got wings?!”

Lo, unfazed: “A bad bitch always got snacks on a mission.”

Jacob bit the inside of his cheek.

That’s it. That’s my woman. I’m changing my emergency contact to her. I’m gonna marry that war criminal.

Camille noticed the thousand-yard “she gon’ stab me in my sleep but I’m okay with that” look in Jacob’s eyes.

“Uh-oh,” she muttered. “We lost him.”

Jacob muttered under his breath. “She eats wings during interrogations. That’s a real wife trait.”

Camille: “Jacob…”

“She hotwires cars before coffee.”

“Jacob—”

“She calls cops ‘practice targets.’ Camille—this is love.”

Back in the room:

The snitch fumbled over his words, begging for mercy.

“I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything, I swear!”

Lo lazily tossed a napkin at him. “Wipe your mouth, you're foaming like a poodle. You got info or nah?”

BANG.

A bullet kissed the floor two inches from the guy’s foot. Marissa didn’t blink.

“Oops,” she said, chewing gum. “Trigger’s real touchy.”

Lo raised her brows. “I love that for us.”

The dude screamed.

Back upstairs…

Jacob’s knuckles were white.

Jey finally glanced over. “Bro… you’re breathing hard.”

Jacob blinked like he forgot where he was. “Sorry. I was just thinkin’…”

“Bout what?”

“…What it’d be like to have her name carved into my tombstone when she inevitably kills me after a fight about which flavor of Kool-Aid to buy.”

Sefa choked.

Camille sighed. “You’re gone.”

“I’m so far gone,” Jacob whispered, eyes glazed over with emotion and obsession. “Like Drake in '09. I’m finna learn her blood type.”

Cut back:

Lo pulled out her phone mid-interrogation and set a timer.

“You got thirty seconds to make yourself useful or this whole room becomes Exhibit A.”

The guy fumbled. “I—I was paid to plant bugs in the ops center! I gave ‘em fake routes! There’s a tracker on Jey’s secondary car!”

Marissa grinned. “Now we talkin’. See, all that just saved your life.”

Lo stood up, licking lemon pepper from her thumb. “Almost.”

She cocked her head. “But I still don’t like your face.”

Outside the room, Jacob turned to Camille with full seriousness in his voice:

“Tell her I’ll co-sign on a car, an apartment, or a war crime. Whatever she need.”

Camille: “Bro.”

Jacob: “I'm already picturing matching orange jumpsuits.”

Camille blinked. “Bro.”

Jacob looked back at the monitor like a dog watching the mail truck. “If she proposes, I’m saying yes.”

Chapter 156: Certified Problem

Sefa shouldn’t’ve been watching her. Not like this. Not for this long. Not with this kinda focus.

But he was.

Posted up behind the one-way glass, arms crossed, jaw clenched, watching Marissa Harris do what she did best:

Break a man down like he was a riddle she was tired of hearing.

Lo was sitting pretty in her usual smug elegance, legs crossed, voice velvet-slick as she leaned forward and laid the setup:

“So you say you don’t know nothin’... cool. My girl got a new mod on her Glock she been dying to test out. Wanna help the cause?”

Marissa stood, slow, deliberate, like a predator bored with the chase. She circled the dude in the metal chair, tongue poking her cheek, Glock in hand — trigger finger tapping to a rhythm only she could hear.

Sefa’s eyes never left her.

She wasn’t just threatening.

She was performing. Commanding. Owning every inch of space like it owed her back taxes.

He didn’t blink when she stepped behind the man and whispered something that made him flinch hard enough to almost fall out the damn chair. Whatever it was had him leaking sweat like a faucet.

Lo grinned. “Girl, now why’d you go and tell him that story?”

Marissa: “I just like to paint the full picture. Y’know. So when he dies, his soul ain’t surprised.”

Sefa blinked.

Jacob, standing behind him, shook his head. “Crazy. Ain’t no way she should be that fine and that homicidal.”

Sefa didn’t even glance at him. “You got Lo. Stay in your lane.”

Jacob laughed. “Ohhhh, so you claimin’ her now?”

“I ain’t claim shit,” Sefa muttered. “Just saying—Marissa? Not for you.”

He didn’t admit it, but watching her handle herself like this… It hit somewhere deep. That place in his chest where loyalty and violence had made a little home.

Because she wasn’t just bad. She was dangerous. And she liked being dangerous. And he could already tell — she’d never ask permission to be herself.

Back inside the room…

The guy finally broke. Cracked like cheap porcelain. Spilled names, locations, money trails — all of it — while Marissa leaned against the table like she was waiting on room service.

Lo: “Told you she was persuasive.”

Marissa: “He was tryna act hard like he ain’t heard about me. That’s cute.”

She blew a bubble with her gum and popped it in time with the sound of her safety clicking back on.

Back in the hallway…

Sefa ran a hand over his beard and muttered, “She gon’ be the reason I lose my damn mind.”

Jacob snorted. “Nah. You already halfway there, bro.”

He wasn’t wrong.

But the moment Marissa stepped out of that room — eyes half-lidded, smirk on her face like she’d just clocked in and out of a nine-to-five of chaos — Sefa straightened up like a soldier.

She spotted him. Stopped. Gave him that once-over again.

Then, with a soft click of her tongue and a smile just shy of sweet:

“Keep lookin’ at me like that, big man… and I’mma assume you wanna die in my arms.”

Sefa stared.

Marissa winked.

And then she was gone — hips switching down the hall like she had time bombs in both pockets.

Sefa watched her disappear and whispered to himself:

“Yup. That’s her. That’s the one.”

Chapter 157: Convicts & Cardio

The gym bunker smelled like lavender wipes, gun oil, and bad intentions.

Courtney was already bouncing on her toes in the sparring circle, ponytail swinging, a bandage wrapped around one knuckle. “Yo, I been waitin’ for this all WEEK.”

Lo cracked her neck as she stepped in with a half-smile, tugging her hoodie over her head to reveal a sports bra and abs like she did push-ups on parole. “We sparrin’ or you just wanna trade jailhouse trauma and protein bar recipes?”

Courtney grinned. “Both. I’m sittin’ on five felonies and two warrants and I need girl time.”

Lo popped her gum. “Bet. You ever make a shank outta a Pop Tart?”

Courtney paused. “Frosted?”

“Duh.”

“Hell yeah. Strawberry. The crust edge sharp as hell once you toast it and file it down.”

“Ayyyeee,” Lo said, throwing the first slow jab, “you certified.”

Meanwhile…

Camille was on the stair machine in her Dior sweats, looking like an ad for luxury cardio while Ariel jogged next to her, hair in a pineapple bun, sweat glistening like highlighter.

“I’m just sayin’,” Ariel said between breaths, “Jey got that quiet sexy. Like… ‘I stabbed a man for the family and I’ll cry about it later’ sexy. He all heartbroken and mysterious. Got that slow kiss in the rain while hiding a body vibe.”

Camille snorted, wiping her brow. “Girl, you the only one bold enough to flirt with him and still aim your gun steady.”

Ariel shrugged, cheeks flushed from the jog. “He needs a woman who ain’t scared of the storm. And I am the damn hurricane.”

A few feet away…

Marissa sat cross-legged on the floor with gun parts laid out in neat rows like tarot cards. She wasn’t dressed for cardio — she was dressed for war. Black tank, tactical pants, combat boots still laced up.

She had zero interest in squats or friendship bracelets.

“Y’all over here runnin’ laps like we got a 5K and not a hit list,” she grumbled, wiping down her Glock with a cloth. “Talkin’ ‘bout strength training. Bitch, I’m tryna train my aim. Cardio don’t mean shit when I can just shoot your kneecaps out.”

Lo, dodging a punch from Courtney, called out mid-spar: “Damn, you always this fun at sleepovers, or just the violent kind?”

“I ain’t sleepin’. I’m always ready.”

Camille sighed. “Mars, can you at least pretend to enjoy the bonding moment? We tryna build sisterhood here.”

Marissa side-eyed her. “I’ll bond when y’all bring out the targets and stop actin’ like this a sorority brunch.”

Courtney ducked a jab and shouted, “Yo! I got a hot take! We let Marissa pick the playlist next and she MIGHT smile once.”

Ariel smirked, picking up a set of weights. “She only gon’ play trap and shootout sounds.”

Marissa shrugged. “That’s the vibe.”

The gym echoed with laughter and punches, gum pops and metal clinks. It was chaotic, criminal, and weirdly wholesome.

It wasn’t spa day. It wasn’t therapy. But for a group of women forged in fire and felonies—

This?

This was healing.