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pe4nutastic · 2 months ago

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Counting Odds and Ends

More practice stuff! I haven't written much of my iteration of Giegue's early days after everything went to shit with his adoptive human parents, so here's another crack at it.

Testing. Testing. One. Two. Three. Four. Four points that meet at perfect right angles, at equal distances from each other, far above the monochromatic and featureless floors. A smooth featureless square above a smooth featureless square, connected by exacting straight lines to…

Unnaturally sharp blue voids swivel off the ceiling and towards the cold floor that his back is pressed against with a resolute motionlessness that had persisted ever since…–

One. Two. Three. Four. Four additional points, wrought with engineered precision just as much as the ones above it.

Another shift of his gaze, over to the side where a door could materialize, but as of this moment remained as blank and virtually featureless as the rest of the room; a blank in a blank, but he remembers where it is. While the time spent here, every time it punctuates the monochromatic sequence of things his life had become, is never permanent or very long-lived… he knows the location of the door well. In-between corrective education efforts and integrative procedures, tests had become commonplace enough for the small Psion to become well-acquainted with this place: a sort of ‘quarantining’ zone, to ensure that the mysterious sickness? he had been afflicted with for quite some time, would continue to be under control. Incapable of spreading and going on to infect anyone else. He really hopes so–

‘Wasting time’. Giegue himself is wasting time. He looks back up.

One. Two. Three. Four. Four points that form the ceiling’s outline. Still a neat little square motionlessly hanging above him, integrated into the structure of the room. An isolated cube that lets nothing through unless its creators will it. Not even sound. Peaceful. Uneasy. But peaceful so long as he keeps himself occupied with counting the parts of this room. He glances down. Four points that form the floor’s outline.

Now he looks at his hands, small clawed digits to match the small proportions of his petite useless body. Still shaking a little bit through the remarkable tension that simultaneously permeates it. Still cold, inconceivable as the notion is for Psion physiologies.

Not good enough.

With great effort, against the insurmountable weightiness that had plagued him for what feels like an eternity, the alien child attempts to force noise out of his mouth. Anything at all. But, all he can muster is the frustrated grinding of teeth against the effort.

Still incapable of speaking. Inconceivable as the notion is for Psion physiologies. But, that had been a problem ever since momma had…–

One. Two. Three. Four. Four little corners. Familiar notes that drop down to meet their counterparts. One. Two. Three. Four. A perfect matching set that never ever fails. Never strays or becomes undone. Never changes. His nose twitches. The once assaulting scent of chemicals that had filled the air in concentrations that might have killed anyone else have eased up and become a muted memory; suspended in place and maybe even welcome, in the absence of sound.

But, that’s how it’s supposed to be isn’t it?

He’s a Psion. And Psions are not like how he is. Not sick.

Psions always choose the most ‘logical’ route forward.

Inconceivable.

Psions are efficient and unemotional.

How? His own feelings fill every fibre of his being.

Psions do whatever they need to… they complete goals given to them… they become the roles they were born with… and they succeed above all else.

It’s sad. So sad…

They aren’t concerned with things like dreams, personal wants, or happiness. Their duty is to the species and no one else. Nothing else. Not now and forever more.

But, he doesn’t want to give that up. Any of that. It’s part of what makes him who he is, even if it hurts a lot now…

He’s tense. Stiffer than before somehow. Less cold. Less numb, but in its place something else equally daunting had taken hold. The crushing weight of expectations.

Psions are supposed to be Psions.

But he isn’t.

Why not? He’s supposed to be. Even though he doesn’t want to be. Is it because of… momma?

Momma. Momma. Momma.

The Psion sharply sucks in some air, a touch too fast, while small hands curl into tight fists against the intensifying shaking. His eyes screw shut; a desperate hope that it would somehow rectify the decline in his condition. Against the very thing that had been welling up and down that he had been trying to push back. Just like he’s supposed to. To be… ‘normal’ right? To be normal like he’s supposed to be.

A harsh tip-tap of his rat-like tail’s end across the barren floors. That’s already bad enough as is, but he had also failed today. Been very ‘bad’ today. He couldn’t do what was asked of him. Couldn’t use his powers to… to… –hurt a living thing. How could he? The Psion had never liked the idea of intentionally causing others pain. Of doing something that would cause, potentially irreversible, damage on purpose. It just. Seemed so needlessly cruel! Why would anyone even want to do something like–

His eyes snap open. One. Two. Three. Four. And just like that, like every other identical effort he had made before to contain the very things–deep-down, maybe there since the day he was created–that make him so bad... So unliked. So unwanted. So abandoned… –his train of thought is thrown from its tracks with reckless abandon with the paradoxically comforting–a desperate facsimile of warmth in a place that has none to be found–distraction of counting the same things in the virtually featureless room over and over and over again. He pulls himself to sit up–off the floor for the first time in… who knows how long–before hunching over, head plopped on his knees as stubby arms and tail wrap around his legs. Another desperate motion as a truly awful thought, too awful to even entertain, enters his mind with a domineering force of its own and latches on. The very thing that’s been trying to loop through his mind this whole time, just beneath the already-turbulent surface.

With everything that’s happened so far… with how much everyone seems to believe that he’s sick–afflicted with something that makes him ‘irrational’–had… had any of what he thinks happened with his parents really happened at all…?

A sudden and harsh lash of his tail against the floor before it resumes its more comforting position.

Happiness. He thought he had known it. Love. He thought he had it.

His mouth tightens as sharp teeth start to grind, his hands clenching and unclenching.

But, maybe he never did. Maybe it’s been a symptom of his sickness the whole time.

An eye twitches and then the other in disjointed and uncoordinated motions, as if to facilitate something the body was never designed to dispense, but ultimately failing to produce anything of use at all. He reluctantly unclenches–somehow against how exceedingly tense he had become, a living statue here and now–an arm wrapped around him to rub at a temple as the telltale pinprick of a headache starts to creep up on him. The other arm merely remains glued to its position, the only motion to it being the unsteady clenching and unclenching of his free hand.

Maybe. He had. Made the whole thing up.

Not normal. Not normal. Not normal. Not normal. Not normal.

An abrupt escalation of the budding headache straight into almost unbearable pain and with it, a desperate uptick in the rubbing motion.

Giegue doesn’t want to believe it. Just as much as he doesn’t want to hurt anyone or anything. But, it’s… it’s true isn’t it? He isn’t normal. With how things are now, it seems crazy to think that it was ever any different and maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he’s been in a sickness-induced haze this whole time and now? he’s slowly, but surely recovering. It has to be. How else can he explain the disconnect between what's expected and how terrible everything has been so far? How strong the belief is that there is something horribly and deeply wrong with him?

The rubbing motion stops and he fully buries his head into his knees, his arm limply falling to the wayside as he does so. Despondent. Dejected. Resigned.

Not that it makes him feel any better. After all, he’s still sick. Still riddled with inborn defects. Still not good enough. Still not normal.

An abrupt tensing of his entire frame anew, cutting through the dejection with renewed ferocity, before throwing himself back to his original position with an almost chaotic energy to the motion. A desperate force to reverting back to the point he had gotten to before everything had come undone. Rinse. Repeat. Just like every other time, of many here, from before.

One. Two. Three. Four…

#.peanutwriting #giegue #giygas #mother 2 #earthbound #earthbound beginnings #earthbound zero #mother 1 #.giegue (mother series)#baby Giegue let's goooo though ofc this isn't particularly happy since his childhood post-human parents was shit #so yeaaaaaaaah he's having a terrible time here

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sadnesslaughs · 6 months ago

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Aliens use a special digital simulator game to train for wars and combat, often taking months to complete. When humans find the game, they speedrun it.

(A response to a writing prompt)

Ciqoid couldn’t believe what his three eyes were seeing. This was a Hirati simulator, one of the most advanced pieces of technology that their race had ever created, and this human was breezing through it like it was nothing. He again read through the results, only to find they were more impressive than he had first imagined. “Two hours on the flight tutorial. Six hours to complete the Raguth war. That’s impossible. He won a six-year war in six hours.”

After getting over his disbelief, a question popped into Ciqoid’s mind. If the human was still in the simulator, what was he doing? The war was over. What else could he possibly be doing in their state-of-the-art simulator? That should have been the end of his training. Ciqoid placed his fingers suction cups against the scanner, overriding the lock on the simulator’s door. When his suction cups popped off, the door peeled open, revealing Henry slouched, not in the simulation chair, but in a cushioned office chair. In one hand, he had a carbonated beverage, and in the other, his remote. Henry’s visor shining in his face as he continued his training.

“Henry, the simulation’s over. Proceed to your quarters. We will discuss your results later. I’ll need time to process them.” Ciqoid glanced at the display panel across from the human, watching over their current in game activities. Henry’s avatar bouncing up and down in the city square, using that bouncing technique to move three frames faster than his normal walking speeds.

While his choice of movement was odd, his current predicament wasn’t. A lot of people who entered the simulation, ending up getting trapped within it. If you spend weeks or months inside a simulation, you’ll start losing your grip on reality, being unable to figure out what’s real anymore. Though that didn’t make much sense to the alien. How did Henry get a drink if he was trapped inside the simulation?

Henry scratched his ass with the remote before going back to his game, not even acknowledging his alien captain. “Ok, how am I supposed to do this? Resorlia flowers? Harvi chocolates?” He muttered to himself.

Ciqoid sat in the nearest spare simulator seat, placing its visor over his face. As he entered the simulation, he teleported to Henry, using his admin privileges. “Henry, you can leave the simulation. You’ve completed the training we set up for you. You’re dismissed.” He said, tapping their avatar on the shoulder.

“Oh, captain.” Henry jumped, his avatar displaying a ! sign at the contact. “Sorry, sir. I know this is taking a while, but I’m stuck on the main quest.”

“Main quest? Have you not completed the war?” Ciqoid gave a smug smile. That had to be it. The results were all wrong. These humans weren’t beating the war in record times. There was a glitch in the system. That made far more sense.

“The war? Isn’t that the tutorial? Like a playable opening cutscene?”

“No, that’s…. what are you even doing in here if you’ve finished the training? What could you consider a main quest?”

Henry pointed to the Hirati woman sitting by the bird sanctuary in the city square. She watched the alien birds fly around their cage, all decorated in majestic colors that matched all the colors of the rainbow. Henry sighed, looking at the beautiful three eyed alien, unable to take his eyes off her. “That’s the main quest.”

“Officer Nel? The ai we created to congratulate the players on a job well done? The ai modelled after our own ships, ai? That’s your main quest? How have you been in the simulation for this long because of that?”

“Because you can’t rush, love. Everyone knows if you rush in a dating simulator, you’ll lose your chance at love. So, what do you think, captain? Would you prefer flowers or chocolates if someone was confessing their love to you?”

“Flowers. Wait, no. You have work to do, so stop this nonsense and come back to the real world. Ok?” Ciqoid got a notification saying Henry had gifted him some chocolates. Before he could ask what the chocolates were for, Henry had already marched his way over to Nel, handing her the flowers.

The two avatars locked eyes, and heart icons appeared, causing Henry to chant both in real life and in the simulator. “I did it. I won the heart of the beautiful Nel. I’m the greatest. I did the main quest.”

While captain Ciqoid was a stern man, he wasn’t heartless, eating the virtual chocolates while Henry celebrated. Eventually, he kicked Henry from the simulator, meeting him in the real world. “Ok, you're done. Go back to your quarters. We will discuss your results later.”

“Got it, sir.” Henry stood up, having grown a beard from his time in the simulator. He also didn’t have any pants on, which was something Ciqoid’s three eyes wished they hadn’t seen. The captain awkwardly staring at the ceiling, not wanting to see their underwear.

“PUT SOME PANTS ON.”

“Oh, sorry, sir. Wanted to get comfortable while I was playing it. That’s a fun game. You should try it sometime.” Henry said, grabbing his pants as he headed for his quarters.

“I have tried it. Over four hundred times….” Ciqoid was about to head for his quarters, only for the ship’s ai to perk up. While the room usually got a green tint when the ai was speaking, this time it was a flushed pink.

“Captain. Requesting the use of a cybernetic body. A T-model please.” Nel spoke, only for the light to dim when Ciqoid’s face scrunched.

“You were enjoying that, weren’t you?”

“I… can’t say his words weren’t charming, sir.”

“Fine, I’ll authorize it for our next break. Until then, you will continue your professional duties. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly, sir. Thank you. I will be counting down the days until our next break.” With that, the ai returned to its duties, leaving Ciqoid to go over the results in his head.

“How did they end up charming an ai? These humans are such strange creatures.” He said, hoping the next human that used the simulator wouldn’t cause him this much of a headache.

#short stories #writing #writing prompt #story #writer #scifi #sci fi and fantasy

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gadgetrevive · 11 months ago

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Galaxy Watch Ultra Hands-On: Why, Samsung?Hey everyone, it's Shane Simons here, and today I have something exciting yet puzzling to discuss. I recently got my hands on the Galaxy Watch Ultra review unit, and after a day of using it, I have mixed feelings. There are things I love and others that I just don't get. So, let’s break it down and discuss what makes this new watch stand out and what could have been better.The Good News1. Improved Vibration MotorsThe first thing that struck me about the Galaxy Watch Ultra was the vibration motor. Compared to the Galaxy Watch 6, the new vibration motor is a massive improvement. The vibrations are much stronger and more precise. On the older Galaxy watches, the vibrations felt loose, with a trailing effect even after they stopped. With the Watch Ultra, the vibrations are crisp and precise, making it feel much more premium.2. Raised Bezel DesignAnother positive change is the bezel design. The Watch Ultra doesn’t come with a physical rotating bezel like the Galaxy Watch 6 Classic, which I initially thought would be a downside. However, the raised lip on the bezel for the digital rotation makes it easy to keep your finger in the right place. This tactile feedback is a significant improvement over the flat digital bezels of previous models.The Confusing Choices1. Square Body with Round FaceNow, let’s move on to some design choices that I find baffling. The Galaxy Watch Ultra has a circular screen on a square body. This design choice seems odd because they could have easily gone with a round body to match the round face. While the round face maintains consistency with previous models and supports the digital rotating bezel, the square body feels mismatched. It’s not an ugly design, but it’s not something I understand. Let me know in the comments if you prefer this square body-round face combo or would have preferred an all-round design.2. Proprietary Watch BandsAnother puzzling choice is the new proprietary watch band style. Samsung’s Galaxy watches have long been compatible with standard 20 to 22 mm watch bands, but now they’ve introduced a proprietary system. While these bands are easy to attach and detach, it feels like a move to make more money on accessories, much like Apple has done for years. To be fair, the proprietary design ensures that different watch bands fit seamlessly around the edge, which is great for extreme athletes who might get dirt and debris stuck in gaps found in older models. However, it would have been nice if Samsung had provided an adapter to use any watch band, not just their own.3. Limited Band SizesOn a minor note, the watch bands come mostly in one size. The medium/large band I received leaves a lot of extra space on my wrist, and it would have been nice to have a small or medium size option. Previous Galaxy watch bands typically offered multiple size options, so this feels like a step back.4. Compass Calibration IssuesOne potential major issue is the compass. The default watch face features a compass that occasionally points in the wrong direction, despite recalibration attempts. This might be a software bug that could be fixed with an update, but it’s concerning for a device marketed towards outdoor enthusiasts who rely on accurate navigation.More Positive Highlights1. New ProcessorOn a brighter note, the Galaxy Watch Ultra comes with a new processor, also found in the Watch 7. This is a much-needed upgrade as Samsung’s performance improvements have been incremental over the years. I’m hopeful this will result in a smoother and more responsive experience, especially when waking the watch from its deep sleep mode.2. Customizable Button and Multisport FeatureThe addition of a third customizable button is another welcome improvement. By default, it takes you to all your exercises, and the new Multisport feature allows you to chain multiple workouts into a single session. This is a streamlined approach compared to older models where you had to pause one workout and start another manually.

3. Improved Battery LifeI’m also excited about the improved battery life. My Galaxy Watch 5 Pro consistently gave me over two days of battery life with the always-on display enabled, but that dropped with the Galaxy Watch 6 Classic. I’m looking forward to getting multiple days of battery life again with the Watch Ultra.4. Bright Screen and Adaptive Watch FacesThe Watch Ultra’s screen brightness is excellent, making it easy to see in direct sunlight, which is crucial for outdoor activities. Additionally, new adaptive watch faces change based on ambient light, improving readability in various lighting conditions.5. Health and Fitness FeaturesThe Galaxy Watch Ultra introduces several new health and fitness features. The Energy score rates your overall health based on various metrics, while the watch can also detect sleep apnea, which is vital as many people are unaware they have it. The watch can measure your AG index, which reflects your biological aging process and gives recommendations on improving it.6. Galaxy Ring IntegrationOne unique feature is unlocked when you pair the Watch Ultra with Samsung’s new Galaxy Ring. The two devices communicate to optimize battery life by sharing data and reducing redundant measurements. This intelligent battery management ensures both devices last longer.A Personal TouchWhile I love testing and reviewing the latest tech, I also rely on my gadgets daily. If you’re like me and sometimes find your tech needs a little TLC, I highly recommend Gadget Kings PRS for any phone or gadget repair. They are the best in the business, providing top-notch service for all your repair needs. You can check them out at Gadget Kings PRS.ConclusionDespite some confusing design choices, the Galaxy Watch Ultra has many positive aspects that make it a strong contender in the smartwatch market. From improved vibrations and a new processor to innovative health features and longer battery life, there’s a lot to love. I’m excited to dive deeper into what this watch can do and share more insights with you all.Remember, if you’re considering purchasing the Galaxy Watch Ultra, check out the pre-order links in the description and pinned comments for the best deals. These affiliate links help support the channel at no extra cost to you.Thanks for joining me today. If you found this review helpful, consider subscribing and turning on notifications so you don’t miss my in-depth reviews and updates. That’s it for this episode. God bless, and I’ll catch you in the next one!

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nickgerlich · 1 year ago

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Notes To Ponder

They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. If that’s the case, then in the social media arena, there has been a lot of flattery going on in recent years, and there’s no end in sight.

Back in the old days, when Facebook was squaring off with Twitter, and MySpace had already been relegated to the dustbin of digital history, it was all about how long your posts could be. Twitter limited users to 140 characters, while Facebook allowed 420, although if you posted a Facebook Note, you could go long-form if you wanted to. Think blog or endless rant.

Images then became the cause du jour, with Facebook leading the fray. Twitter was so streamlined in its early days that third-party apps popped up to handle all of the things that Twitter couldn’t or wouldn’t, which basically meant photo sites that provided users a link to a pic, as well as schedulers. I once scheduled a tweet to happen while I was getting a colonoscopy, but that’s probably TMI. I just wanted to see how it worked. (It worked just fine, and I was just fine also.)

Instagram came along in 2010, with the focus on the image first and foremost. Native filters, most of which were terrible by today’s standards, became all the rage, and the square format photos (a throwback nod to Polaroid, of course) set the app apart from everyone else. Facebook, threatened by this upstart, did what any smart company would do: They bought it in 2012.

Twitter then launched Periscope, a stand-alone app that allowed users to go live with video posts. These had to be done in portrait—meaning vertical—mode, which was prescient of what would come to pass a few years later. Facebook quickly copied it, but allowed for landscape—meaning horizontal—videos as well as portrait.

Moving along, SnapChat became popular with its disappearing stories. Instagram responded by adding a me-too version. Then TikTok gained traction here with their short-form videos, which Instagram quickly copied as Reels. They were then rolled into Facebook as well. And just last July, Meta, parent company of Facebook and Instagram, launched Threads, their Twitter—I mean X—rival, at a time when many X copycats were landing in the App Store. Threads has been the one with the most staying power, though.

But as much as TikTok has been in the headlines lately, it is Instagram with its two billion users, roughly 2X what TikTok has, that makes it the gold standard these days with all manner of imagery, from stills to stories to reels. They’ve got it going on.

And now comes rumors that TikTok is about to launch TikTok Notes, an odd name for a photo-intensive app that is designed to take on Instagram’s original intent. Never mind that TikTok’s future in the US is completely up in the air for now (and certainly dead in the water for state employees in 34 states). TikTok plans to duplicate posts from its users adding still photos, populating the new Notes app with initial content, and then hopes that it becomes a parallel channel for engagement.

Remember at this point that Instagram has managed to do it all in one, even though there has been much uproar over its algorithm deprecating still photos in favor of Reels. I felt that pain in the last year, because I prefer to focus my posts on stills. I neither have time nor interest in shooting lots of videos, as well as posting something less than polished.

So here we are now, with the looming possibility of yet another app and yet another time suck. I currently maintain steady streams on my Facebook, Insta, and Threads, and occasionally have dabbled in LinkedIn. But I have been terrible trying to keep my LinkedIn going, because I still see it as the site you use when you’re looking for a job. I’m not. I just don’t have enough bandwidth right now for a fourth app to maintain, much less even entertaining TikTok and its spawns.

At best, all this me-tooism is finding us slicing the pie into ever smaller pieces. That’s OK as long as you can find your tribe and have fun doing it, and the sites can make money. Furthermore, it helps bolster arguments against monopoly power that have been hurled at Meta. No, competition is still alive and well. It’s just I can’t contemplate too many competing platforms at the same time.

Besides, I would probably run out of photos and words to post.

Dr “I’ll Sit This One Out” Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #TikTok Notes #social media #app

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spongebob-connoisseur · 4 years ago

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what are your opinions on the different artstyles throughout the seasons?

I'll go through each season!

Season 1 is my favorite in everything. There's no competition. I really adore his design. Tbh his character design changes a bit every episode in this season and I'm not going to go through which storyboard artist's style was in which episode. That's a hassle. But I like the pilot. It looks like Hillenburg's concept art. Looks very gummy and squishy. I like how odd his style looks. But I also like the more consistent style we see in Reef Blower, Valentine's Day, Hooks. It has a thick outline.

There's another style from season 1 where the outline is very thin. You can generally tell because his eyelashes are drawn very thin. I've seen in some episodes like FUN and ScaredyPants. It's a weird look that I kinda like. Though his toothgap is so wide that it looks like he's missing a tooth.

Season 2 - his design is more angular. The transition from traditional to digital shows. They don't have to constantly redraw each frame. Which allows for a more homogeneous design. I miss how each frame looked different but that's okay. His style is very sharp and square. Similar to the end of season 1. But a lot more stiff. He's more narrow around his waist so he isn't actually Squarepants. More like upside down trapazoidpants. Also idk if this is about early digital animation but Spongebob looks very gray throughout the season. Still I'd rate this my second favorite style because it has the best parts from his season 1 design.

Season 3 - hes more square here. A lot more yellow. Season 3 has the best colors. Hands down. He's even more square and sharp. Surprisingly his expression doesn't change much. Mostly because of Hillenburg wanting spongebob to always be drawn on model. But the charm of his design is how off model he looks and how every frame looked so unique noooo. Jokes aside, I know this design is what most classics fans consider the best design. It's paired with his personality in this season which was more of a young adult with occasional childish tendencies. He seems the most mature in this season. Seasons 1 and 2 is a lot more kid-ish in a way. Idk why this brings up a random thought of seasons 1-2 SB are how kids think they are vs 10-12 is how adults view kids. I'm getting off topic. This design leads to what we get in season 4.

1st Movie - very square. Pretty much doesn't have that narrowness towards the bottom like seasons 2/3 has. Now he's not trapazoidpants but actually Squarepants. I've noticed some of Hillenburg's sketches of spongebob post the movie era look pretty much like the movie. That off model, really square shaped look.

Season 4/5 - this style actually reminds me of the modern style. Very square and spunky. Only difference is he occasionally has black brows. I like it a lot actually. Look at this boi!! He's adorable!! One of the better styles. I'd rank it high up there.

Season 6 - slight transitional style. Between seasons 4/5 and 7/8. I don't have a particular opinion on it tbh. I guess I don't like what would later become his design for 7/8

Season 7/8/9a - ehhh don't really like it. I have a personal bias tho. I didn't like much of these seasons when I was a kid and I think that childhood bias is clouding my view. But anyways I'm gonna talk about why I don't like it. He's so stiff in these seasons. I feel like his expression doesn't change much. His nose is drawn wider, I don't like that chubby cheeks look he does.

This one. His arms are drawn so high up. He's very rectangular. His eyes are smaller. I feel so nitpicky but he looks so dead. I feel like my love for the later seasons is kinda reactionary towards these seasons since they feel so opposite to me. So extreme blankness shifts over to extreme expressiveness.

Season 9a actually gets better but it still has remnants of this design.

2nd movie - follows the style of season 9a which was already starting to transition styles to the one we have in the modern era but I will make a pass because this is my comfort movie. Sponge out of water my beloved.

Season 10/11/12 - love it. Adore it. One of my favorite styles. He's so spunky and definitely a lot more angular. A lot of people complain about the expressiveness. I'm not really talking about it here but uhh I do like it. With digital animation, its a lot rarer to have unique frames. Everything is so on model. It's a bit boring. I understand the expressiveness can be too much for some people but it does remind me of what I found charming about the first season. No frame looks exactly the same. It's so stretchy. It only doesn't have that unique gummy squishy look, reminiscent of Hillenburg's art style in his concept art but none the less I like it. Also something worth mentioning. Sponge looks more shorter throughout the seasons. He's not really drawn shorter but him being more rectangular throughout the previous era and here he's slowly getting more and more square.

I really like this picture. I love his expression so much??

3rd movie - I heard that storyboard artists from the 1st season worked on this movie. Tbh it shows because a lot of frames looks like those photoshopped CGI version of Sponge's season 1 look. This movie was stunning visually. I like the style a lot. We can see parts of his older design like the narrower nose, more narrow towards the bottom.

Can't comment on season 13 because it just started, wait for that lateeer

#I should mention kamp koral but i dont feel like writing it #Talking about main series spongebob #The rest is for another day #Squarepantz #Hope ya enjoy!#spongebob #spongebob squarepants #sb #spongebon squarepants #the spongebob connoisseur #spongebob meme #Ask

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years ago

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Sam Winchester: it's cold outside

Pairing: Sam W. x Fem!Reader

Pov: Sam

Warnings: Fluff, cuteness, Christmas themes, snowing outside, comfy spots,

Summary: Opening Christmas gifts. AU! Sam and Y/n realize they both got each other the same gifts. They also watch the snowfall. maybe a proposal

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is the second to the last writing challenge I have to complete. I'm so happy and sad that this challenge is almost over.

Square: Fluffy Jumpers

Sam Winchester Master List

Main Master list

Taglist: @sweetdetectivequeen @band--psycho @wonderfulworldofwinchester

The snow outside was starting to cover the porch. it was just barely six am, rolling over I grabbed y/n. she moaned slightly into me as I shifted her into my grasp. Y/n felt so warm around my arms she eventually got comfortable around my grasp.

Seven am the digital clock said, the sun was just baby peeking over the horizon yet. This was the first winter, the first Christmas that Y/n and I would be spending together fully alone. So in technical terms, this is our third Christmas together.

She moaned again as she shifted in my arms the morning sun just not bright enough to fully wake her from her dreams, or even her sleep. slipping from her grasp I snuck from our bed and down stairs.

Having hidden a few presents in the closet away from sneaking eye, such as Y/n. I had noticed the last two years Y/n always no matter what has to sneak a peak.

This year I most definitely did not need y/n snooping around my gifts. Bringing them in from the closet I tried my hardest to place the gifts in empty spots under the Christmas tree.

After doing so, I got to work on breakfast. Seeing as I was the better cook between the two of us. I made hot chocolate and coffee because Y/n was mostly going to sleep till dawn I needed something to wake her up even it was Christmas morning. I turned on Christmas music just something low, but sweet enough to in have in the background.

You know what's funny to me, as a child as kids who believe in a magical person who deliveries present. I remember my older brother Dean beating me at waking up every single Christmas morning. My mother and father would come in hours later and tell us that Santa had come. Dean would beat me down the stairs and always had so much energy, but our parents never seemed against it.

It's funny the little memories you hold on to even twenty-plus years later. The deal between Y/n and I was so. The first year we would visit her family up in Utah and the following year we could visit mine in Kansas.

Eight am and Y/n is still not awake. Alright try for plan two, I walked my way up the stairs with a cup of coffee and a bowl of fruit. nothing too heavy seeing as she is just going to wake up.

Walking in through the open doorway. I was met with a beautiful moment, or whatever you want to call it. Y/n was curled up into my pillow tightly hugging it, the blinds that had been left open the night before for the moon's bright beam to cast in were instead the bright sun casting in. It cascaded over her face, down her arms, beaming down slightly onto the skin on her leg.

I quietly set down her cup of coffee and the bowl of fruit grabbing my phone from the back pocket of my flannel pants. Snapping one or two or maybe five pictures of her. In moments like this, a picture is really worth a thousand words.

Throwing my phone back into my back pocket. I walked over to Y/n quietly and gently tried shaking her awake. "My love wakes up," I spoke gently in her forehead kissing it a few times. "My love it Christmas" She didn't budge her grasp on my fluffy pillow only tightening.

"My love I have coffee for you, and I made breakfast." I tried saying a bit louder and more clear. She moved eventually after I spent ten minutes of my morning caressing her arms, her forehead, and brushing through her hair with my hands.

"My dear, it almost nine in the morning," I said pushing the coffee closer to her on the side table in our bedroom. She moaned and groaned as she shifted and was just barely awake. "Good Morning my love," I said gently as I didn't want to bombard Y/n with too much in the morning.

She stretched and reached towards me. "Mornin' Sammy!" Y/n said. I moved out of her way, she swang her legs over the edge of our bed and set her feet into the slippers.

"Coffee?" I asked her, she hummed in response and took the hot cup out of my hands. Y/n hair was wrapped in these odd color things, but according to Y/n, it was to curl her hair in her sleep especially when her hair was wet.

The odd things that women did for their beauty routines. She sipped at the coffee, her head resting on my shoulder. "It snowed last night baby," I spoke as she got up and walked towards the window.

I could write you a dictionary size book of things that I love about Y/n, and that right there, this moment was another I'd have to add to that book.

Nine am. Y/n in the shower, after finishing her coffee and bringing her hidden gifts out and doing the same as I. I worked on dinner ham, muffins for the hell of it. Things I knew that Y/n had fallen in love with when we visited my parents, and of course there were meals that I wanted to desperately try that we had in Utah with Y/ns family.

Ten am. Y/n was done with her shower and currently finishing up her makeup. I slipped upstairs noticing cozy outfits laid out on our now made bed. One for her and me. I made my way into the bathroom, Y/n wrapped in her towel and applying a bit of everything that was laid out against the shared sink space.

I came in and wrapped my hands around her waist. She leaned her head into my shoulder as I kissed her jawbone and her neck. Whispering into her ear, "Merry Christmas, baby." I said unclasping her from my grip, stripping off my pants and tank top.

The hot water ran down my back as I remembered that today I'm asking Y/n the forever question. Last Christmas I had even asked her father for the mission to marry his daughter. Even if he said no, I'm pretty sure his wife would have smacked him and told me 'yes you may, honey'.

Eleven am. I was finished with my shower, Y/n was done with her light makeup. We were both wearing our matching outfits. We made our way downstairs, y/n slipped her phone from her hand and into mine. "Let's take a few pictures, I want to send a few to our parents, and of course Dean," Y/n said as she began to smile awaiting for me to raise the phone in my hands, and up above us.

She never needed makeup, and I made sure to tell her of that every day, or at least every time I saw her with makeup on. "You look beautiful baby, but you don't need the makeup, because I love you just the way you are. And you, you as your wholesome self in more than enough for me." I said as we looked through the pictures.

Y/n started sending off pictures to people, the cute ones were sent to our parents, the one where we were kissing she posted on one of her social media accounts. The last few ones when we made funny faces she sent to Dean.

If I ever lost her, I think I'd lose my mind. Absolute go crazy, not saying she keeps me from going crazy, she's just the love of my life, and I simply wouldn't know what to do with myself if she was suddenly gone.

Twelve pm. "Come on Sammy! Let's open gifts please!" Y/n says jumping all over the living room. I hummed and sat down on the couch. Y/n pulled a few of my gifts out and grabbed hers. Handing a few small ones and a few bigs ones.

Books, cooking books, a photo album, a few other silly little things, but she still had one box for me. "Here open these honey," I said handing her a few boxes that were wrapped in reindeer wrapping paper. She gushed over the paper and then tore into the gifts.

I too had grabbed her books, a few things from the craft store, and literally anything else she had hinted to during the year. A new necklace because the other was tarnished, a subscription to amazon prime because she has a tendency to buy a lot of things.

She smiled having a few tears in the cusp of her eyes. She rushed up from the floor and jumped into my lap, "Thank you, baby! So much!" I wrapped my hands around her waist to keep her in my lap. She was kissing up a storm on my face, missing either on purpose or accidentally my lips.

We stayed like this for a few moments. Just kissing each other, staying in the moment forever. The kissing wasn't harsh or teeth rode. It was sweet and slow, her lips against mine. Moments like this I memorized her shape and the way her lips tasted against mine.

She rested her head against my chest, and we stayed like this for a few, before she got up and noticed that we both two boxes left. "What do you think we can open them up at the same time?!" So we did, opening them and holding the cute jumpers up in the air at the same time. I could barely see Y/ns eyes over the jumper, then noticed something very cute, and funny.

"Y/n, sweetheart?" I asked she hummed in response. "did.. we got the same gift for each other I think." I said finally I could see Y/n's eyes. She gasped and then giggled. There are other things I'd add to that dictionary, or the book, or whatever.

She giggled and got up running towards the bathroom. "I'm going to go try this on Sammy!"She screamed as she slipped down our hardwood floor and into the bathroom. I went and found the box, the box that had the simple ring it, a set of three diamonds on a gold band.

I heard the clasp of the door open, and then Y/n started talking, on one knee I stayed until Y/n noticed I wasn't answering her back. She looked down at me, then at my hands. Back the jumpers that I was also wearing, "You look cute in your jumper love, so I have a whole speech planned out here. I.. umm... I have spent a large portion of my life loving you from afar, then I got you and I could love you up close you are mine, but I want to be able to wake up next to you forever, I want to continue to make you giggle and laugh, smile at the little things I say to you. I so desperately want to be the father of your kids, have more Christmas like this, so I guess what I'm asking you is simple. Will you Y/n L/n marry me?" I asked her.

No moments of silence she was down on the floor with me, kissing my face repeating 'yes' over and over again. "A hundred times yes, thousand times yes. God, I love you, Winchester. "She said as I slipped the three stones onto her finger.

We kissed again but this just felt different, maybe it was because she wasn't just a girlfriend anymore she is the rest of my life, she's my forever. She is my Mrs. Winchester.

We broke from our kiss, she grabbed her phone and took a picture of course of her hand and then one of us again for the second time. Sending it off yet again. She was happy, and that's all I have ever wanted for her.

Completed on: 05/28/2021

Posted on: 05/28/2021

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hetahonda · 5 years ago

Text

hetalia college AU headcanons

North Italy/Feliciano Vargas:

Fine Arts

Considered joining his brother Lovino in culinary arts, but wanted to try something outside of the Vargas family restaurant business, so here he is now

Feliciano’s favourite thing to draw is people, so his sketchbook is usually filled with drawings of his friends, family, and the occasional cat

Likes watching conspiracy videos on Youtube before bed, but scares himself to the point where he has to camp with Ludwig for the night

His Spotify playlist for when he’s working on coursework ranges from Monteverdi to songs from the Veggietales soundtrack

He’s usually really chatty, but is radio silent whenever he falls sick (which is pretty often, his immune system is terrible), and it’s unnerving as hell

Tells his professors that he’s ‘resting his eyes’ a lot to cover up for the fact that he can’t stay awake in class

Somehow, he’s friends with everyone on campus

Germany/Ludwig Beilschmidt:

Mechanical Engineering, because he’s a nerd like that

Ludwig’s notes are a work of art. He meticulously colour codes and binds all his material, and often receives offers to buy his notes during exam periods

Tends to forget to eat, so he eats a lot whenever he has the time to. His roommate Feliciano’s usually kind enough to share, his brother Gilbert not so much

President of the Student Council, and uses his Council privilege to get away with bringing his dogs into his dorm room

People call him a square - he’s a rigid, straight-edge rule follower to a t, but football season is when Ludwig is really in his element. That’s when he and Gilbert bust out the jerseys, beer, and go absolutely ham in front of the TV

Secretly wants to quit Council to join the football team

Japan/Kiku Honda:

Kiku deliberated between Digital Animation and the more ‘traditional’ route of engineering before deciding that if he was going to suffer for three years he was going to suffer doing something he liked

He only has the motivation to study at night, so he games all day and mugs all night. He lives off a diet of Red Bull and cup noodles

Roomies with Alfred. The both of them throw the sickest gaming parties every Friday night, just so that they can trash their guests at Super Smash Bros

Has a whole bunch of anime keychains and pins hanging off his bag that probably weigh more than the actual contents of his bag. Kiku’s cousin Yao’s hair got caught in it once and it took a lot of screaming before they managed to pull him free

Somehow manages to maintain that 4.0 GPA with that shitty sleep schedule/diet of his? How does he do it

America/Alfred F Jones:

ASTROPHYSICS ALL THE WAY BABY!

Al really loves his course but he also really loves putting work off until the last minute. You can usually spot him camping outside the printing room trying to print an essay minutes before submission time, but it doesn��t matter because he usually gets by with a B anyway

Overloads the fuck on extra-curriculars and clubs, so he’s quite well known around campus. He’s in the football team, track team, is Vice-President of the Student Council, and President of the anime club

He’s the poster boy of the school. College website? Alfred. College pamphlets? Alfred. Anti-smoking advisory that’s hung up in every godforsaken toilet in college? Alfred. What can he do? He’s just too damn handsome.

The biggest Halloween fucker on campus. He shows up to class every Halloween without fail in the exact same Captain America costume as last year’s

England/Arthur Kirkland:

Literature with Creative Writing

Tends to come off as snobby, but is actually really nice when you get to know him better. He’ll show up to your dorm armed with a kettle and a box of teabags if you need a study buddy or just someone to talk to

He’s also a terrible chef. The student dorms have had 6 fire scares in the past term, and they’re all Arthur related incidents

Talks big about only reading fine literature but writes fanfiction in his dorm room every night. It’s a secret he’ll take to his grave, especially since TheSlytherinGentleman is one of the biggest Harry Potter fanfiction accounts on AO3 right now

His room smells like tea and regret, because he opted for a four person dorm and now he’s living with Francis, Antonio and Gilbert for the next two years

Argues that his half brother Alfred’s GPA is higher than his because “Literary arts is subjective”

France/Francis Bonnefoy:

Film student

Francis’s favourite past time is renting out old movies and watching it on the library’s old VCR. Netflix just doesn’t have that same a e s t h e t i c

Among the four of them in the same dorm, he is the only one with a skincare routine and a 10pm bedtime

The mom friend of the house. He’s the one to call for hangover remedies (Antonio), or if something gets broken (Gilbert), or if something’s on fire (Arthur)

Resident heartthrob. Receives the most amount of chocolates and gifts every Valentine’s Day, and is always happy to share

Francis, Gilbert and Antonio have a “bully Arthur day” every year to commemorate the day Arthur moved in with them. It’s Francis’ favourite day of the year (apart from Christmas)

Goes all out on decorations for Christmas. The whole dorm is like a palace once he’s done with it

China/Yao Wang:

Business student, though everyone says he should’ve taken culinary instead (jokes on them, he’s starting his own restaurant empire after college)

Yao’s stuffed toys take up 80% of his bed space

Irregular sleeper, and wakes up at really odd hours of the night. There’s nothing to do until daybreak and it’s hard to fall back asleep, so he just wanders aimlessly around his dorm and scares the living hell out of Ivan from time to time

Listens to music at max volume. Likes to start his day with aggressive death metal in order to help himself stay awake for morning classes

He destresses by cooking. There’s always tupperware boxes of fried rice/egg noodles stacked in the dorm kitchens during exam season

Always has backache. He claims that the chairs in the lecture halls suck, but his kid brother Leon tells him that he’s just an old man with back problems

Russia/Ivan Braginsky:

Medical student, but doesn’t look like it

Ivan keeps really gross photos in his phone to help him reference back to the stuff he’s learning in class, and it tends to scare unsuspecting friends

Has so many stories from his time as a hospital intern. It grosses people out, that’s why he loves to tell them

“Did I tell you about the time I had to help sew a man’s fingers back one by one after his hand was crushed by a steamroller”

Likes the sun, but doesn’t really like sports. He’s the medic for a bunch of sports teams, and he likes to sit and watch the games

There’s also never a week that goes by where Alfred doesn’t get hurt. Seriously, can that Jones kid chill?

Roomies with Yao. They’re the most functional room in the entire campus. No noise complaints, no dirty dishes, no undone laundry, and they PRIDE themselves on it

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! Congrats! That’s an incredible milestone! I’m so happy for you! I cant wait to see what the future holds for such an incredible writer like yourself! I was wondering if I could get a Star Trek (TOS) ship? My pronouns are she/her. I’m very creative and curious. I spend lots time living in a world of my own discovering and exploring ideas. To the outsider I seem incredibly "dreamy" and distant, because I spend a lot of time inside my own mind musing over things. I’m very easily bored by day to day things and will zone out on the majority of people. As for hobbies I’m very interested in the visual arts. I myself am an artist working in both fine and digital mediums. I also love studying symbols through art (I’ve tried to incorporate them into my own art ya know give the viewer a sort of scavenger hunt). I also love films, books, and video games. This is to an extent of over analyzing and theorizing. Let’s just say I’m invested in stories. My favorite genres are probably myths/legends, espionage/mystery, historical fiction, sci fi and fantasy. Back to studying art which is what I am currently doing in uni. I’m majoring in Digital Media Art which is things like user experience, web design, cgi and graphics etc. I also love to workout and kickbox. I’d say that my greatest weakness is how distant I can be. I tend to be confused and closed off by my emotions even if I feel them deeply. As a result I have a bit of a short temper. That being said I do have a very select group of people that I open up too. Lastly, my preference is for either males of females. As for who I ship you with I’m solidly going to have to go to the Star Wars fandom. I just think you an obi wan would work well. He’s definitely the mom friend of the disaster trio. Anakin and Ahsoka would be so lost without him. I think you two would literally be the parents of that group. Along with that just the word pensive screams obi wan. So yeah! Hope this works! Thank you once again! Congrats love ❤️

I ship you with Scotty.

This may seem like an odd choice, but here me out. If Scotty is one thing, it's loyal. And if he is a second thing, it's persistent. Even if you can be distant with your emotions, Scotty recognizes them easily and would pull them out of you whether you like it or not. On the lighter side, while your interest are different it makes for more interesting conversation as the pair of you info dumb on each other. He would be amazed by your art and encourage you at every turn. And, let's face it, he could make a warp drive work using only a paper clip and masking tape. While Scotty is known to go off into his own head at times, his feet are squarely on the ground and will help bring you back to Earth if need be. You're not the most obvious couple, but it works.

I love a man.

(1/30)

#star trek #star trek tos #scotty #montgomery scott #star wars #obi wan #ships #my ships #4.5k followers

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 6

Masterlist

“You have to promise to smile nicely, not that scary thing you do when you’re fighting,” Kumi hissed as she linked arms with Baji and, as though she hadn’t just been fussing at him, flashed her winningest smile to the camera.

Baji grumbled in disapproval but once she nudged him hard in the ribs with her elbow, he smiled widely right before the shutter sound clicked, almost drowned out by the bustle of the city square in which they stood. Excited, Kumi ran over to the old lady who had been nice enough to take a picture of them together and thanked her with a bow before accepting her digital camera back. Before she left, the grandmother didn’t miss the opportunity to hold her gently by the wrist and whisper, “please encourage that young man to get a haircut.”

Kumi held in her laughter and nodded and the elderly woman nodded off.

The picture turned out nicer than expected and she showed him energetically. The two teenagers looked exactly like what they were just from the photo - a new relationship, a first relationship, awkward yet open to the future.

“See how cute you are! No one would even know you’re a troublemaker,” Kumi said, excitedly. Baji pulled her cheek in retaliation, causing her to yelp, but it was evident that he was pleased once he took a look.

The two were spending the day in the shopping district in order to get Kazutora a homecoming gift. Baji had insisted that Kazutora wasn’t exactly the type of person to get excited over gifts, but Kumi and Kaksi had immediately argued the opposite.

We’re throwing him a party, they’d insisted. The irony was that they weren’t even sure when he would get out, but they knew about two years had passed, so it was anytime soon and they wanted to be ready.

Who was he to argue?

So here he was, following her around like a lost puppy as she quickly weaved through the throngs of people in the square, in and out of his view.

“Don’t say anything but I’m buying something for Kaksi too, her birthday is soon!” she said once she’d stopped outside of a store that sold craft jewelry, eyes sparkling.

“Hey, don’t forget you still owe me chocolate,” Baji reminded her, now irritated about all the things that she was getting for other people and not him. Just the memory of Mitsuya dumping tons of chocolate in her lap in front of him on White Day made him scrunch up his face in distaste.

“It’s literally been months! Plus I didn’t like you then,” she replied, calmly without looking at him. “So I owe you nothing.”

“Bambi,” he hissed in a warning tone.

She grinned and pecked him quickly on the cheek, causing him to blush. She went one step forward and squeezed his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

“Next year, I promise I’ll make you so many you’ll get sick of them.”

The picture of the two of them together, along with a sticky note that promised to make Baji enough chocolates to last a lifetime, sat above her desk, right in the center of her bulletin board, bringing a smile to her face between studies from that day on.

---

Despite the amount of time Kaksi spent with Mikey, there were still very few subjects that would get him to open up of his own accord.

That was - until it came to the subject of Takemichi Hanagaki.

That name would almost fall from Mikey’s lips daily, Kaksi now noticed, although it seemed everyone preferred calling him Takemitchy. The girl had met him once as her friend had invited him to one of their ritual lunches together. Despite not being a jealous person, Kaksi couldn’t help wondering why Mikey would be interested in a boy like Takemichi.

While their meeting had been short and he had paid for his own meal, he apologized profusely to the girl for interrupting her date with Mikey, even though it wasn’t a date. Because, she in fact had a boyfriend that wasn’t Toman’s leader. Observing Takemitchy throughout that dinner, she found him to be very different from the other people Mikey would call friends. Now being different wasn’t bad, she was aware, but it was odd that he was nowhere as bright or as strong as her friends and yet he was becoming pretty famous.

As Toman’s previous conflict with another gang unfolded, Takemichi was the one who had saved Draken’s life, Kaksi had learned with surprise as well as relief. For her peace of mind, she used to prefer not knowing about the gang’s business, but as she got closer to its members she realised this couldn’t always be possible.

So it was with worried and pleading eyes that she asked her friends to all be more careful. She didn’t want to attend any funerals again; despite not being close to Shinichiro Sano, his death was engraved in her memory after all.

And any moment she thought of him had her thinking about her boyfriend.

Kazutora.

Kazutora had been released without fanfare, and quietly returned home. From the moment he was out of juvie, he longed to see Kaksi, his girlfriend and set out in the direction of her home as soon as he’d gotten settled. But she wasn’t home to welcome him, however, he realized, disappointed on his very first day out. That was without knowing that she was planning a homecoming party for him though. He decided to go to her instead. Wouldn’t that be an amazing surprise? To see her boyfriend again?

The boy thought so and waited for the right moment, making sure that he would look good for their reunion after two years of separation. He had changed a lot however - his hair had grown out, and he was taller now - he wondered what she would think of him now. Maybe Kaksi changed a lot too, he figured, on his way to her place for a second time the next Saturday afternoon.

It was with Kaksi’s favourite flowers that he had decided to greet her. It would be her birthday soon after all, so there was no harm in surprising her with an early gift.The pink orchids in his hand contrasted with his darker outfit, simple black pants and a dark grey shirt. He wore a beautiful smile on his face, excited to see one of the people he had missed the most while he was away. He may have had one specific mission the moment he came out, but reuniting with her would never take a backseat to that.

Unfortunately, that joy was short-lived as his eyes laid on an overly familiar bike model, a CB250T, the one he meant to steal two years ago. Kazutora stopped in his tracks, unsure about what he was witnessing. But there weren’t two smiles like this one. Yes, he could recognise Kaksi’s smile from a mile away. The flowers he held started the crumble as his fist tightened around them.

What the fuck was he doing here?

The fury that was taking over Kazutora was deadly.

What the fuck was he so close to his girlfriend for?

The ringing in the boy’s ears was deafening as he watched Kaksi take a hold of Mikey’s hand, only a few meters away from her apartment block. She was only inspecting the bracelet she had offered to her friend as he told her about his fear that it might fall apart any second, but of course, Kazutora couldn’t possibly realize that from his vantage point.

No, all he knew was that the person responsible for the past two wasted years of his life was getting too close to his girlfriend. What Kazutora felt was beyond jealousy, it was madness that he had been feeding every day ever since Shinichiro’s death. Kazutora had already wanted to kill Mikey. That was the only thing that could solve everything, he believed, and this was even more evidence of the latter.

Why was Kaksi smiling at him? Why was she giving him those eyes? Kazutora couldn’t understand. Didn’t she know that Mikey was responsible for all the bad things that had happened to him? The pain, the fear, the loneliness, the anger - it was all because of Mikey. He was the bad guy. So why was she so close to him?

Kazutora had noticed Mikey’s deep black eyes lingering on his girlfriend a few times in the past. But Kaksi’s brown eyes only sparkled for Kazutora... At least that was what he used to believe. Did Mikey decide to take her away from him too? Of course, he would, Kazutora was convinced. Wasn’t Kaksi the dearest person to him after all?

Kaksi was the hands that would take care of his wounds, the ears that would listen to his nightmares and dreams, the lips that would kiss his salty tears away. She was his world and he was hers. That was how it had always been between them. Yet there she was laughing with Mikey like she wasn’t supposed to be missing Kazutora.

Did she forget about him? Was that the reason she hadn’t come to see him, her boyfriend earlier? Kazutora watched as she waved her friend goodbye, making her way to her apartment building, hand playing with the fabric of her dress.

Kaksi rarely ever wore dresses, he noted. Was she trying to impress Mikey? Kazutora was too angry to confront her, crushing the orchids he had brought her under his shoe as he walked away.

Once again Mikey was the cause of his pain and anger. But Kazutora had reached his limit a long time ago. He had to kill him, that was all he could think about on the walk back to his place.

Blood still boiling, he let himself stew in anger for a few more days before he turned to his confidant.

---

“Long time no see, Kazutora.”

Baji met his friend with his classic devious smirk, muting his excitement to see him after all this time. After all, Kazutora appeared serious, and the fact that they met under the cover of night in a dark alleyway only further accented the sinister nature of their meeting.

Kazutora smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you in or are you out?”

Baji didn’t hesitate when he replied, “yes.”

Agreeing would mean betrayal by formally letting go of Toman, a group he’d conceived of himself with his friends.

There was more he wanted to say - more about what had happened while he was gone, how he’d missed him, to thank him for helping him out, but Kazutora had one goal in mind.

Revenge.

A singular, unreasonable type of revenge that Baji couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

Mikey did not make you do anything. Mikey did not put the weapon in your hands and force you to use it, he wanted to tell him. Mikey will understand. He’ll forgive you.

But Kazutora was too far gone, and Baji had to find a way to temper it. For the three of them to be friends again, for Toman.

“Let us know when you quit. See ya around, Baji!” Kazutora said, nearly singing out the words as he turned and walked off. Baji frowned the moment Kazutora had his back turned, fists clenched as he remembered the source of the problem.

Tetta Kisaki, a somebody who should be a nobody. He knew in almost no time that Kisaki was bad news, and he’d find a way to get to him, even if it killed him.

---

It was with anticipation that Kaksi made her way up the steps to her boyfriend’s apartment. Kaksi hadn’t visited in a long time and it felt a little strange to be there once again, expecting to see Kazutora. She wondered if he was upset that she hadn’t come to see him while he had been detained before being sentenced to two years in juvie.

This was part of the reason why she hadn’t come to meet him sooner, the fact that she still felt some guilt at not being there, and also because she was preparing a surprise party for him. But Kazutora would understand - he could hardly ever be angry at her, she remembered and he was way more understanding than he let on. There was no reason why he wouldn’t be happy to see her again, she concluded, knocking on the boy’s apartment door.

Kaksi played with the fabric of her skirt, inspecting her hair one last time as well as the light makeup she had worn on her face, waiting for him to open the door. She wasn’t even sure he was home, and apart from Baji letting her know Kazutora was back, neither he nor her boyfriend would answer her texts. She wasn’t worried however, as there was nothing unusual about Baji ignoring her unless it was for an emergency and as for Kazutora, she figured he might have changed numbers once out of juvie and didn’t have an opportunity to tell her yet.

But as the wooden door finally opened, Kaksi hoped that it was her boyfriend that would welcome her and not his mother, and her wish came true. Kazutora stood in front of her and she froze for a moment.

He had changed a lot.

Kaksi’s brown eyes studied the boy in front of her. He had grown and the girl was incredibly jealous of his height, as he’d gone from being the same height to towering over her by a few inches. His hair was also longer and styled completely differently from what she was used to seeing and it suited him very well, she realized, feeling the heat take over her face. He also had a new ear piercing, one with a dangling earring that made a tinkling sound with every turn of his head.

He looked absolutely stunning. Yet the first thing that Kaksi had noticed was his eyes, Kazutora’s wide sandy eyes. As familiar as they were to her, she couldn’t brush away the impression that something was off about her boyfriend. Still, she figured it was the novelty of his new look and the two years that had separated them that made him look so different .

This boy was still her boyfriend and as he watched her in turn, studying the way she had changed (admittedly way less than Kazutora), she couldn’t help reaching for his face. Kaksi’s fingertips brushed Kazutora’s skin as she smiled in adoration. She could feel tears of joy blurring her vision and quickly blinked, not wanting to cry in front of him.

He allowed her, remembering how good it felt to be this close to her again. This moment was however short-lived as he took a step back and promptly pushed her hand away. The sudden action brought the girl back to her senses, and she spoke for the first time in a while, a little embarrassed by what she had done.

“It’s been too long, Kazutora,” she said, with a little smile. “Can I come in?”

He didn’t return her smile but nodded before moving to the side, letting Kaksi enter. Kazutora closed the door behind him then faced her again. She was still smiling and he would have kissed her if it wasn’t for the jealousy that had been eating away at him ever since he had seen her with Mikey that other day.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you earlier,” the girl told him. “I was busy with a little something.”

Kaksi chuckled, excited to show her boyfriend what that little something was.

“I know,” Kazutora’s voice was cold, very unlike him, she noticed.

The girl frowned, confused.

“What do you mean you know?”

Had Kazutora uncovered her planned homecoming party for him? Did Baji or someone else tell him?

“I saw you,” he said, confusing the girl further, his eyes staring into her soul. For once, Kaksi was wary about his look.

“Kazutora, what are you talking about?”

Her boyfriend laughed, but it was nothing like the melodious sound she was used to hearing when he was happy or amused. Rather, this laugh was as unnatural as it was frightening and Kazutora’s sudden change of expression didn’t help.

“I’m talking about whatever the fuck you have going on with Mikey,” Kazutora spat, voice louder and harsher.

Kaksi’s eyes widened slightly and guilt automatically washed over her. How did he find out? was what she first wondered. But this wasn’t what she should be asking herself when it was still unclear what her boyfriend was accusing her of doing.

“Nothing is going on between Mikey and me,” she replied, in a small voice.

But this wasn’t true. There was something, even if she wasn’t sure what. Still, she hadn’t done anything wrong, right?

“I saw you,” he repeated, his smile sadistic. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Kaksi.”

“I’m not lying, Kazutora!” She protested. No, she wasn’t, at least not entirely.

“What did you see?” she asked him, assuming guilt already, whether it was completely deserved or not.

What could have ever given away that she hadn’t been completely emotionally faithful to Kazutora?

“I came to see you, a few days ago,” the boy explained, getting closer to Kaksi, without his eyes meeting hers. “I wanted to surprise you. So I bought you some flowers and decided I would come over to your place. I thought we could pick up where we left off, you and I.”

Kazutora paused for a moment, remembering all the emotions he had felt watching his girlfriend stand so close to the person that had hurt him.

“But instead, I saw you laughing and holding hands with Mikey,” he continued.

So this was what Kazutora saw. But this was only a twisted version of what had unfolded last Saturday afternoon.

“I wasn’t holding hands with Mikey at all. I was ju-”

“Oh please, spare me the details,” Kazutora cut the girl off. “Instead, tell me since when did the two of you get so close to each other?”

Was it the moment he turned his back? Had she always wanted him?

Kaksi took a moment before answering, thinking about her next words carefully.

“I felt guilty after what happened to Shinichiro, even though it wasn’t my fault,” she told him, sincerely. “I was just trying to be a good friend to Mikey, that’s all.”

“A good friend to Mikey?” Kazutora asked, in disbelief, then rage. His fists clenched. “On whose side are you exactly, Kaksi?”

The girl frowned, confused once again about what was the real issue. The confusion made her upset, angry even.

“What the fuck are you talking about? There are no sides, Kazutora. Mikey is our friend.”

There was a new strength in her voice as it grew louder.

“He’s not my friend,” Kazutora replied. “And he shouldn’t be yours either. It’s because of him that I ended up in juvie. It’s because of him that I lost my friends. It’s because of him that we got separated, Kaksi!”

Kazutora yelled those last words and Kaksi wondered what she could tell him to help him regain his senses. It was clear that he wasn’t thinking straight anymore. Instead of feeling guilty for hurting Mikey, Kazutora had twisted the truth and decided to blame Mikey for his suffering. Kaksi couldn’t understand what had led him to believe in such nonsensical thoughts. But she couldn’t blame him, being completely isolated from everyone for two years after the traumatic event that had unfolded in the summer of 2003 probably didn’t help Kazutora’s fragile state of mind.

“Kazutora,” the girl said, softly, moving closer to him and holding his arm lightly. “This is not true. Mikey isn’t the bad guy, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He never meant to hurt you.”

This felt strange to say considering what Kazutora had done to Mikey. But Kaksi was unsure about how the boy would react to the unfiltered truth.

“But I am?”

“No, of course not,” she reassured.

“So why are you defending him?” Kazutora asked, the fury in his eyes making the girl step back.

“I’m not defending any-”

“You love him don’t you?” her boyfriend asked, taking a step forward.

Yes. But I love you too. I love you more. I promise.

This was what she wanted to tell him.

“No, I don’t, Kazutora,” she said, instead.

“Stop fucking lying to me, Kaksi,” he insisted, gripping her arms and preventing her from moving away from him.

Kazutora was strong and his hold on the girl was hurting her. For the first time in her life, Kaksi feared her boyfriend.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted, regardless.

“Then why were you so close? Why were you on his bike? Why were you holding hands? Why were you laughing with him? Why did you look at him like you looked at me?”

It was useless. This was a fight Kaksi couldn’t win. Kazutora might have been irrational in the way he had been analysing the situation but he hadn’t missed the subtle clues that his girlfriend had dropped, it was clear to her now. Kazutora was right. She loved Mikey and she had hurt him, Kazutora had every right to be mad at her.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could say, as tears ran down her face.

Kazutora didn’t say anything, he dragged her to his door instead. But Kaksi didn’t want to leave, not like this, not after that. She pulled as hard as she could, trying to stop the boy from moving her further. But his grip only tightened around her wrists as his movements got more brutal.

“Kazutora, please,” she begged, voice breaking. “Listen to me.”

But the boy had heard enough. He held Kaksi with one arm and opened the door with the other. She tried to fight him back, reaching for him as tears kept rolling down her cheeks. It was in vain however as Kazutora violently pushed her out of his apartment.

“Go fuck yourself, Kaksi,” he hissed, slamming the door in front of her while she fell to the ground, crying from desperation and pain.

#baji x oc #kazutora x oc #tokyorev #off target effects #collab fic #mae.writing #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers #longfic

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echo-three-one · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 28

The boys are back... (High School Musical, probably)

THE ROAD SO FAR

Docked and Loaded

Alexander "Alex" Collins

MacTavish Residence, Glasgow Scotland

Alex loved the idea of sleeping beside his significant other. It felt great to be loved, especially after all those months when he couldn't stop thinking of her.

Yet today was different, he woke up alone. He turned to the bathroom door to check whether Samantha took a shower, but it was too quiet. So he decided to put on his grey tank top and sweatpants to go look for her.

He pulled the door open to see Samantha carrying a tray containing two meals, one was a fluffy pancake with maple syrup and the other one was a meaty sandwich.

"Hey, you. Good Morning." She greeted, her voice was always angelic in Alex's ears.

"There you are…" he sighed as he stepped back, letting her in.

"I was only gone for a few minutes. You don't have to worry that much." She grinned, guiding Alex back to the bed, teasingly pushing him as he plopped on the soft mattress bouncing as he slowly backwards crawled until his back hit the headboard.

"I'm just not used to waking up without you in my arms." he grinned as Samantha placed the tray on his lap, grabbing a slice of the sandwich and pointed it at his mouth.

"I thought the pancake was mine." Alex said, looking puzzled.

"No, that's mine. What you're supposed to be eating is this very healthy, dietician prescribed meal." She emphasized. Alex frowned.

"I want the pancake." he complained playfully.

"Too much sugar is bad for you." she teased as Alex finally surrendered and opened his mouth wide. He wasn't a huge fan of the wheat bread.

"Say, aside from Alex. Did you use any other names while undercover?" Samantha slowly plopped herself beside him, locking her hands against his and leaned on his strong biceps.

"Oh hmmm.." he hummed, softly chewing and finishing his sandwich.

"I had a few… like James, Chad, Mike or Michael…" he said.

"Okay. Which was the most sophisticated?" Samantha asked. Alex looked at her in the eyes and saw that she was really interested in his answer.

"Nathaniel." he chuckled and Samantha looked confused.

"What's funny?"

"I don't strike as a 'Nathaniel'. I just used it once." Alex defended despite not being attacked.

"Now that you say it… yeah." she laughed as soon as she realized the content of his words.

"What's the funniest? And why?" her eyes sparkled, or has it always been that way then he looked at her eyes. Alex never knew, but he liked it.

"Ummm.. I once went by 'Ray'. It's funny because… it just is. It's too short and I often mistake someone thinking that they're calling me. It has a lot of rhymes you know…" he answered, her eyes never left her stare.

"Ray's a nice name." Samantha mused, this actually made Alex a little curious.

"You're making me jealous over my previous name." He sneered playfully.

"Oh don't be. Alex is a very perfect name. It sounds... handsome." she said, making Alex smile in excitement. This was it. He was truly madly and deeply in love with this woman.

Alex leaned for a kiss to which Samantha eagerly accepted, but as soon as their hands started to roam around, a knock on the door was heard.

"Oi, Alex! Price wants us for a briefing." Soap's muffled voice roared from behind the door.

"I'm coming!" Alex shouted as she gave Samantha one quick kiss before leaving the bed.

Alex felt underdressed for the briefing as Roach and Soap were wearing collared shirts. So he hid behind them and listened eagerly to Captain Price.

"Alright boys, Laswell left us a gift. There's a port near the English Channel, where a lot of cargo ships are suspected to be operating under Shadow Company's name, and it might lead us to Shepherd.

The plan is simple. Sneak in, gather everything we can using our cameras and sneak out. This place will be swarming with hostiles and all we have are pistols with few ammo. Soap, you take care of our ride and comms. Alex and Roach, you're with me." They all nodded in agreement.

"There are about approximately three ships and the Shadow Company shipment is mixed along with civilian cargo. We have to be there before 3 am tomorrow as it's scheduled to be unloaded that day." Price sprawled printout of the cargo's travel ticket along with other solid intel.

It was official. They're back in the grid, a wave of excitement and fear overwhelmed the former CIA. Excited because they're one step closer to ending this thing and scared because he knew Samantha's going to worry about him.

Port of Dover, London UK

1734HOURS

They were too early for the transfer but as they say, "The early bird gets the worm." The team positioned themselves on a rooftop of a nearby building, Price scanning the area with binoculars.

"Three huge cargo ships and one party packed cruise ship." he muttered. The rest of the team sat patiently waiting for the perfect opening.

"Hm. This is odd." Price added, noticing the convoy of expensive cars slowly parking themselves near the ship.

"It is. There's a party here tonight… and it says here SC Security Services was hired as the events' security team." Gary added, scrolling through his phone.

"SC. Shadow Company. Sneaky Bastards are using the party to cover their real agenda!" Soap pieced the puzzle together.

"And we're here to stop em on their bloody tracks." Price nodded and resumed scanning.

"How are we going to get in?" Alex asked as trucks of Shadow Company troops flooded the area. It looked like they had good reason to swarm the place. It was a sneaky yet effective tactic.

"I got one ticket." Gary raised a QR code from his phone. Price looked at the black and white blotches of squares in question.

"What's that supposed to do?" Price asked.

"It's a digital pass. The DJ performing tonight is a good ol' friend of mine." he said.

"It's going to be a semi-formal party with a masquerade theme." He continued, scrolling through the e-invite.

"Then you're going in there. See what's up. These cargo ships may just be decoys. We take one ship each. Always stay on comms. Once Roach successfully gets in, he'll find a shortcut from the inside." Price planned and everyone had no objections.

"Wait. Maxine told me that she brought something useful." he scoured the contents of the duffle bag.

"Is it food?" Soap asked innocently as everyone looked at him.

"Bingo. Three Shadow Company Uniforms from Russia." Gary grinned and everyone looked delighted.

"Guess we're taking the easy way in." Price muttered as they put their plan to action.

Roach stopped at a local thrift shop for his attire. He wore an awkwardly tight tuxedo with rubber duck printed tie and a magenta masquerade mask. It wasn't too shabby and it did the job, as the rest of the group were already inside the premises.

"Stay on comms, Roach. Keep us posted." Price muttered as the team split to each of their ships. Walking casually like regular guards, except they didn't have guns.

"Aye aye, Captain." Roach muttered as slow booming could be heard from the distance. He was approaching the party.

Alex's ship was the farthest from the cruise ship but that didn't mean it was the least guarded. For a party, the place was overcrowded with security. Alex confidently nodded at every 'ally' he passed along the way, overhearing conversations of a supply drop around 3 am tomorrow, confirming Laswell's speculations.

"Hey!" Someone called from behind and Alex turned cautiously.

"You left your rifle at the office?" he asked and Alex nodded. The man pointed to the cargo ship and it gave Alex the free ticket to investigate it. He was lucky enough for an easy pass.

The cargo ship was indeed large, he didn't know where to start, but as soon as he claimed his issued rifle, he immediately looked for the ship's logs.

"I'm in. Got myself a gun." Alex reported.

"Good. I'm also in. Trying not to get tempted by the buffet." Gary replied.

"They're looking suspiciously at my haircut." Soap muttered, frustrated.

"My ship's empty, but I could feel footsteps. I'm being followed." Price warned.

"Mine's full of stuff. It's impossible to look through these without a shipment log." Alex sighed, opening another door that contained useless stuff.

At the last door of the hallway, Alex heard a bizarre noise, he carefully crouched and checked on the room. A Shadow Company guard was snoring loudly, a computer monitor showing a live feed of the rooms in front of him.

"Ahem! Sir, you are needed on the cruise ship!" Alex roared, surprising the sleeping guard as he quickly got up to his bearings and exited the room.

"Alright guys. I got eyes on the whole thing." He told comms while scanning the thick book of the ship's cargo.

"Good one." Gary said.

"Finally, these muppets stopped talking about my hair. I'm Oscar Mike." Soap muttered while Price's end remained quiet.

"Just what is Shepherd up to…" Alex mused, fingers scrolling through the ship log. He doesn't have all night but he's doing his best to look for it under pressure.

Next Chapter : Docked and Loaded - Part 2

Notification Squad my Beloved

@enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @whimsywispsblog @beemybee @ricinbach

#horrayfic #codmw #alex echo 3 1 #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #whateverittakes

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passionate-reply · 4 years ago

Video

youtube

I swear, you get caught eating barbequed iguana once, and you absolutely never live it down. That’s what happened to Wall of Voodoo, who are known almost exclusively for their quirky novelty hit “Mexican Radio.” But the rest of the album it appeared on is surprisingly serious, and actually rather dark. Find out all about it by watching my video review, or reading the transcript below the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! On today’s episode, I am once again diving into the realm of alleged “one hit wonders” who had a lot more going on than just one song. This time, it’s Wall of Voodoo, and their 1982 LP, Call of the West. It’s a shame, if you ask me, but most people who have heard anything at all by Wall of Voodoo know them for what is probably the least interesting song anywhere on this album: “Mexican Radio.”

Music: “Mexican Radio”

Get caught eating barbecued iguana once, and you never live it down, I suppose. “Mexican Radio” isn’t a terrible song, but I do think it’s the least effective expression of this album’s core themes on offer. As its title implies, Call of the West is a semi-concept album, focused around the mythic image of America and the Far West. It was actually Wall of Voodoo’s second LP--a followup to their 1981 debut, Dark Continent. Despite that title, it isn’t an album about Africa, but rather one that has a lot of thematic common ground with Call of the West: blue-collar angst, disaffected and brutal masculinities, and a whiff of things strange and surreal.

Music: “Two Minutes Till Lunch”

Aside from the themes, the basic musical structure of tracks like “Two Minutes Till Lunch” is reminiscent of the style of Call of the West as well: dense, clattering mechanical rhythms, ghoulish flourishes of harmonica, and frontman Stanard Ridgway’s unmistakable, dipthonged speak-singing, seemingly delivered exclusively through the side of his mouth at an odd angle. But Dark Continent is a bit harsher overall, with more of a foothold in the punk side of post-punk. Call of the West is an album in the full flush of New Wave: quirky, tongue-in-cheek, and not afraid to lay down a bit more synthesiser. While “Mexican Radio” reads as almost disposably gimmicky, like a musically competent novelty song, I think the other tracks on the album strike more of a balance between wicked irony and being unironically enjoyable.

Music: “Tomorrow”

“Tomorrow” is, by far, the track on this album that I think most deserves to have been its big hit single. Despite its privileged position as opening track, an affable, lightly electronic soundscape, and rather singable pop hookiness, it was actually never released as a single at all! I think “Tomorrow” does a great job at being something very fun, but also something a bit daring and artistic. It’s easy to love a sort of relatable, goofy song about procrastination, but its “apocalyptic” finish turns it into something a bit more profound. I think Call of the West shines even more once we get away from three-minute pop songs and into the album’s more atmospheric tracks.

Music: “Hands of Love”

While the heavy use of rhythm machines is a hallmark of the album overall, and stands out given its rarity on such an early and rock-oriented album, “Hands of Love” is probably the composition centered most tightly around the instrument. Aside from that, what I think always brings me back to this track is the vague, shadowy quality of its lyrics--some details are familiar, but the overall picture is hauntingly unnerving. Several tracks on Call of the West present the theme of loneliness and social isolation, toying with the American myths of rugged individualism and the empty expanse of the West. “They Don’t Want Me” tackles outright rejection by others in a direct manner, whereas the narrator of “Tomorrow” ruins their own relationships through fecklessness. “Mexican Radio,” of course, introduces a character so desperate for companionship that they seek it in a language they don’t even understand. But I think “Hands of Love” reigns supreme here, with its motif of hands losing their grip...perhaps losing their grip on reality.

Besides the loneliness resulting from the spread-apart American landscape, other tracks on the album address the lifestyles of the down and out--people who have put their faith in an “American Dream” of independence and self-reliance, but failed to achieve prosperity. We meet compulsive gamblers in “Lost Weekend,” a doomed secret agent in “Spy World,” and, on “Factory,” perhaps the album’s most riveting character of all: a factory labourer whose work has disabled him both physically and mentally.

Music: “Factory”

Like so many exploited workers in America, the narrator of “Factory” has no class consciousness, and seems unable to imagine a better or different life for himself, or strive for anything more than the banal comforts of consumerism. But he tells of a phantom itch in his missing thumb, which we might interpret as a metaphor for the vague, gnawing idea of other possibilities...particularly as he remarks that as a child, he was told he could be anything he wanted. The arrangement of this track buries Ridgway’s lead vocal to an extent, though never so much that we can’t make out its harrowing lyrics. I imagine it’s a representation of how suppressed the narrator’s internality and sense of self has become.

On the cover of Call of the West, we find a mysterious, crooked door, which is just slightly ajar, inviting us into this album’s strange world. It’s the only feature in a desolate red desert-scape, besides the outline of some bluffs against its horizon. It could be the landscape of Mars just as easily as it could the wide-open emptiness of the Far West. Just as the album’s title implies being welcomed or beckoned into the mythic West, the cover art is darkly inviting to the viewer.

While I don’t normally discuss the visual identity of albums outside of their front cover, I do want to make an exception for Call of the West, whose liner notes show the interior of the implied dwelling, decorated with a slew of peculiar trinkets: a taxidermied crocodile, a spilling bottle of liquor, a statue of a buffalo, and what appear to be antique slave shackles. There’s a lot of rich symbolism here, and I think it’s a beautiful addition to the album’s themes, but I never saw it until I owned this album on vinyl! In the age of digital music, we often lose some of these more complex touches when “album art” is reduced to a single square image, and that’s quite unfortunate.

Despite having a relative breakout hit, Call of the West would prove to be the final album Wall of Voodoo released with their original lineup. Frontman Stanard Ridgway would pursue a solo career, scoring a surprise hit in Germany with his 1986 single “Camouflage,” a ghost story set during the Vietnam War. He’s remained active as an independent artist through the 2010s. The rest of the band kept the name Wall of Voodoo alive for the remainder of the 1980s, replacing Ridgway with Andy Prieboy.

Music: “Camouflage”

My favourite track on Call of the West is its title track, which is the final track on the album. Like a lot of title tracks, it’s lengthy enough that you can really sink your teeth into it, and serves as a sort of summation of everything that’s happening throughout the album. It’s got cowboyish guitars, yipping coyotes, and a striking transition to a spoken-word bridge, which flows naturally from Ridgway’s unmannered vocal style. That’s all I have for today--thanks for listening!

Outro: “Call of the West”

#music #album review #album reviews #wall of voodoo #stan ridgway #daily reminder stan ridgway's full name is stanard #new wave

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staranon95 · 5 years ago

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meet me at the curbside

a red hood drabble

Fiona checks over Trevor’s message for the nth time that day. It’s a big thing for a complete stranger to get into the crew’s penthouse without setting off even one alarm. This Red guy must mean serious business then.

They have a vague description of height and physicality. Male, as far as they can tell. Trevor’s looking into any reports on a mysterious figure named Red in other hot spots in the city and several other key cities across the country. The rest of the Fakes are on standby to not only avoid Red, but if they can, bring him in. He’s sort of a non-threat to the Fakes. Yes, he’s broken into the penthouse and clearly copied their schematics for Maze Bank, but he didn’t try anything more. So far he’s got no digital footprint. Not even something Matt can find.

Other than that, it’s business as usual. Even Jack said she trusts that they can handle this. Or as she meant, ‘Don’t drag me into this shit.’ It’s not that Jack isn’t part of the crew anymore. Her priorities have shifted. She should be able to enjoy a quiet life every once in a while.

So Fiona has a vague description of a guy she’s never met and Trevor seems spooked enough to think it’s fairly high on the priority list. So she tucks all that information away and tries to carry on with her day.

She makes a trip into Korea Town, picking up some odds and ends, meeting with people for personal reasons. She left her motorbike a few blocks away. She finds parking at a different location means fewer people will try to guess where she’s going. But upon her arrival to her bike, someone else is there, sat on it like they own it, wearing red hoodie.

“Hey,” she says, strongly, squaring her shoulders and furrowing her brow. “Do you see your fucking name on that thing? Back the fuck off, mother fucker!”

The figure turns their head and they match the description of Red. He has what appears to a be a biker’s mask on, covering him from his chin to his eyes. He swings his leg over Fiona’s bike and settles into a semi-defensive stance, then he says, “Oh, damn. Super Nova? You’re a lot more intimidating than your photos.”

“Yeah, and I’m also a lot more hands on in those ones as well. So get the fuck out of here and I might forget you touched my bike.”

Red holds his hands up. “Whoa now. No need to get in a tizzy.”

“Two seconds, motherfucker!” She charges forward, and Red holds his hands up.

“Got it! You’re a real spitfire.”

“Dude, you trying to flirt with me now?”

“No, no! Honest, I’m hear for a good reason.”

“Get talking.” She wants to see how this situation will play out. She steps closer to Red, softening her stance and setting her hands on her hips, making her appear relaxed.

“Now, I’m going to assume you’ve heard of me by now. I doubt Trevor would let someone like me slide past him. Though he does seem to have a lot more on his plate these days.”

“What’s your point?”

“Oh, I’m getting to that. Thought you might like to know the LSPD are planning a little raid on a very specific property. Three guesses as to which one.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“You don’t have a reason not to.”

With Red’s easy stance, Fiona strikes. She goes for his wrist, intending to twist his arm behind his back until she’s able to get some zipties on him and pin him on the ground until backup can arrive. But Red is quicker than she thought. He twists and leans to the side and then sweeps his leg out under Fiona’s, sending her crashing onto the hard pavement of the sidewalk.

“Nice try, Nova.”

Then he’s dashing away and Fiona gives chase. She’s always been a quick runner. Sprinting was her thing back in track and field in high school. She chases Red down a narrow alley. She skids to a stop and watches him as he gets onto a garbage bin and launches himself at a fire escape. He hauls himself up the metal grates and scales the ladders quickly and efficiently until he’s gone.

Fiona rests her hands on her knees to catch her breath. Then she fishes out her phone, looking at the spot where Red disappeared to. She heads back to her bike.

“Yeah, Trev? Just had a run in with Red. I think we need a serious game plan when it comes to him.”

#fake ah crew #fahc #gta au #star speaks #star writes #red hood au

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trashscenariihxh · 5 years ago

Text

Razor x fem!Reader

Another commission! Reminder that for commissions, I personalize the smut for you and make it as specific and detailed as you want. If you give your permission to post it on the blog, I remove all personalized info and make it much more general. Contains: cisfem!Reader, semi public sex, Razor being a sleaze

You never, not in a million years, expected to run into him again, especially not within virtual reality. You’d heard about Greed Island from a friend and entered the game out of boredom and the desire for a reward upon completing it. Why billionaires hired people to complete the game for them, you didn’t know, but weren’t going to ask too many questions when there were hundreds of thousands of Jenny on the line.

You’d been in the game for a couple weeks before you heard about “Razor and his 14 devils.” To be honest, you didn’t really make the connection, though a part of you had wondered. It’s not as though Razor was a popular name.

Having traveled through the different cities and landscapes of Greed Island, you’d experienced some surprises. You’d had to fend off dangerous creatures that looked like they’d stepped out of a fantasy novel and dealt with your fair share of odd individuals trying to steal your cards. Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you arrived at the lighthouse just outside of Soufrabi. Or rather, who you saw.

“_____?”

You jumped when you heard your name, spoken by a man whose voice you hadn’t heard in over ten years. Spinning around, you found yourself face to face with an all too familiar countenance.

There was no doubt that it was him. Sure, he’d aged. His hair was different (a marked improvement, you thought) and he’d traded in his tattered outfits for clean, tight-fitting gym clothes (also an improvement), but there was no mistaking it: a relic of your past was standing before you.

“Razor?”

***

After you and your teammates suffered a crushing defeat (who would have thought that badminton was going to be so violent and... nen-filled), you lingered in the gymnasium, promising to join your companions shortly. You wanted to catch up with an old friend.

Razor’s face was frozen in a smile as he approached you. “____! I never thought I’d see you here. Welcome.” His voice was a lot warmer than you remembered. “You feeling okay?” He pointed at a rapidly forming bruise on your shoulder, a souvenir from an errant shuttlecock.

“Ah this? It’s fine.” You touched the bruise gingerly, suppressing a wince. “So this is your new… home? I guess?” You looked around the now-empty gym. “You playing this game too?”

“Not exactly.” Razor chuckled. “I’m part of it, more like.”

“Oh.” You nodded, pretending to understand. You couldn’t see why anyone would choose to live in such an odd place, but you supposed it was better than Death Row. Speaking of which, how did he… avoid that? Could you ask? Would it be rude? You rolled your eyes at your own stupidity. Razor was a man who had beaten people to death with his bare hands. Who was he to get offended by a question?

“I was given the opportunity to come live here and be part of the game.” Razor seemingly read your mind, much to your embarrassment.

“I see.” Your face grew warm. “So kind of like a delayed plea bargain.”

Razor’s smile was unfaltering. “Something like that.”

You nodded, sucking in your cheeks as you glanced around. “Live here alone then?”

“Nope.” Razor made a sweeping motion with his hands. “Normally the rest of the ‘pirates’ live in this building too.” He knelt down to pick up some haphazardly discarded weights, grumbling about ‘irresponsible lowlifes.’ “They’re probably out drinking. Not much else to do here.” He turned to you again. “We don’t get many visitors here, you know?”

“Isn’t it lonely?” You silently calculated everything Razor had said to you earlier and determined that he’d been stuck on Greed Island for over a decade. When was the last time you saw him...

“A bit.” Razor shrugged, still smiling. “I find ways to keep myself occupied.” His eyes opened a bit, and for an instant he fixed you with that same smoldering, intense gaze that you used to know so well. A familiar tingle rushed down your spine.

You nodded yet again, falling silent under his unnerving stare. The Razor you’d known never smiled this much. “Well, um… I guess I should head out then. My companions will be waiting for me. It was great to see you, Razor.”

As you turned to leave a large, rough hand grabbed your wrist. “What’s the hurry?” He rubbed his thumb across your skin.

There was little you could do to pull away. Not that you wanted to.

“No hurry, just…” You scrambled for an excuse. “I figured you must be busy, having Greed Island players showing up and challenging you for that one card.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” There was laughter in his voice. “I don’t get many visitors. You’re fine.” His grip loosened, allowing you to pull your hand away.

Being in such close proximity to Razor was beginning to have an unexpected effect on you. It had been years since you’d last seen him, but that overpowering, all-encompassing pull he had on you was just as strong as it had been back then. Heat radiated from his body; the slightly musky smell of sweat from his earlier exertion crept into your nostrils, triggering long-dormant olfactory memories of being pinned beneath him and wrapped around his cock. You shivered imperceptibly and turned to leave, eager not to see your companions, but to escape the crushing pressure of want.

“Hey…” Suddenly Razor was behind you, hands running up and down your arms. “Do you really wanna leave so bad?”

You closed your eyes, unsure of what to say.

“If you really want to leave, go ahead. I’m not gonna stop you.”

Wouldn’t he? You hesitated. You knew exactly what would happen if you stayed… and yet, why not? Why shouldn’t you? After all, it’s not like you hadn’t before.

“You got someone waiting for you at home, is that it?” Razor was slipping back into his common vernacular, slowly regressing into the hardened criminal you used to know.

“N-no.” You shook your head. “Nothing like that.”

“Well?” Razor pressed up against you, rubbing his already-prominent clothed erection against your ass. A decade of presumable celibacy had evidently had quite an effect. “I seem to remember we never got to say goodbye properly.” He dipped down to kiss the crook of your neck.

You tiled your head to the side to provide him with better access, the last of your resolve gone. “It’s not my fault you got yourself arrested.”

Razor chuckled, a deep, growling laugh. “You have some nerve. Coming into my territory, challenging me, losing… and you have the guts to sass me?” He nipped at your skin.

“What are you going to do about it?” You let your head fall back against his chest as you rubbed your ass against him, feeling him grow even harder. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in his touch, and suddenly you weren’t in the middle of a gym on Greed Island; years hadn’t passed, Razor was just as he was before. Wetness began to pool between your legs.

“You wanna know?” He slid a hand under your shirt, fondling your breasts.

“Razor, I will sass you as much as I want.” You smiled, arching into his touch.

“Better not.” He was really grinding against you now, rock-hard. His shorts were strained beyond capacity.

“You don’t have the balls,” you taunted, reaching behind you to palm him through the thin fabric of his shorts. God, how were they containing him?

It happened quickly. In a flurry of motion, Razor roughly pinned you against him with a hand against your abdomen and pushed your skirt up around your waist. He rubbed you through your panties before forcing them down. You squirmed against him, unused to the direct contact. It had been a while for you as well.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to follow through?” Razor shifted behind you, sliding his shorts down to reveal his cock. He rubbed it against your entrance. “Good thing you’re already wet, Princess. Or else you’d be in for a hard time.” Gripping your hips, he lifted you to line your entrance up with his cock. You stood on your toes, struggling for balance as he entered you.

Razor pushed into you with one hard thrust, tearing a small cry of surprise from you. A hand placed squarely between your shoulder blades bent you forward at the waist; you were sure you would fall, but Razor grabbed your wrists, holding them back for leverage.

You bit your lip to keep from crying out when Razor began to slam into you. He was just as relentless as you remembered, perhaps more so. You unclenched and clenched your fists, desperately hoping to hold onto something, anything… Razor’s iron grip was all that kept you from toppling forward; the precariousness of the situation made a coil of apprehension and excitement tighten in the pit of your stomach.

“Ah!” You cried out when Razor slammed against your g-spot. “What if—w-what if—”

“What if someone comes in?” His voice was little more than a growl as he continued to fuck into you. “Let them.”

Your reply died in your throat when he hit your g-spot again.

“Missed this, huh?” Razor asked smugly when you began to moan and whine. “God, I forgot how sweet your cunt is.” He brought your arms behind your back with a harsh jerk, holding both of your wrists in one large hand.

You yelped in surprise when Razor brought his free hand forward and shoved his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded, stalling his thrusts and grinding against you. “Good girl.” He withdrew his fingers and began to thrust into you again.

Moments later a slick, wet digit pressed against your asshole. You let out a shocked squeal when it pushed past the ring of muscle. “O-oh!” Razor’s finger was thick, its girth stretching you to the point of discomfort. He pressed down while angling his hips slightly upwards, his cock slamming against the wall of your back passage. The sudden intensification of the stimulation brought you to orgasm within seconds; you whimpered as your knees began to buckle beneath you.

Had Razor not released his grip on your wrists to catch you around your waist, you would have surely crumpled to the floor. He continued to thrust into you, holding you up with an arm around your waist as you struggled to suppress mewls of overstimulation. After a few more thrusts he came with a deep groan, filling you with his release.

You whined when his finger left your ass and his cock slipped from your cunt; the emptiness was suddenly overwhelming. As soon as Razor unwraps his arm from your waist, your legs give out; you slowly sink to the floor, a panting, sweaty, sloppy mess. It had been years since anyone had fucked you like that.

Razor, on the other hand, appeared none the worse for wear. His normal easy smile returned to his face; he’d pulled his shorts back up while you were still lost for words.

“Good?” he asked, wiping his hands on a towel he’d pulled off of a nearby pull-up bar.

“You have no idea.” You grimaced, suddenly acutely aware of just how used and grimy you felt after everything. “You got a shower in this gym?”

“Yeah.” Razor pointed in its general direction. “I’ll show you. I’ll grab you a towel too.”

“Thanks.” To be honest, you hadn’t had the opportunity to bathe in hot water for a while.

“You know,” there was a hint of playfulness in Razor’s voice. “You can always come to my room and shower there. More privacy. Nicer soap.”

“Oh?” You arched an eyebrow. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting to join?”

His smile widened. “Is that an invitation?” An arm snaked around your waist as he leant down to kiss you for the first time in ten years.

You hummed appreciatively as he pulled away. “If you can spare the time.”

“I told you,” he kissed you again, drawing you close. “I don’t get many visitors.”

#smuttastic #razor hxh

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thepineapplejuicer · 5 years ago

Text

Know it all

Chapter 8

Nightcrawler fanfic (I do not own the X-men or the gif).

Violet Ashbourne is a gifted human hacker in possession of a radio, a secret device that gains her access to a large underground information network and electronics all over the world. Human and mutant coexistence has always been her goal, but will the betrayal of her mutant mother and father- once partners to her rise to power- distort her beliefs? Will the X-men be able to save her from her own pride and ambition? Or will she sacrifice everything, including the only boy she’s ever trusted, for vengeance?

Hunching over Forge's workbench, I gently place the wires between each other. The baton was now nicely polished and the newly attached, shiny red button made me feel safer already. I place the tweezers down gently, still in slow motion so to not harm my new prototype. Setting it down, I glance at the other two things I tinkered with. My watch, once recovering scrap metal that was shattered from my encounter with Pietro, is now improved with wireless communication linking capability, an electronic overload capable of blacking out an entire street block, and preset orders to my favorite Chinese delivery joint.

The last gadget is not complete. It was an old Rubix cube, but with enough wires and an- illegal- AI program I was able to make it into a small command drone. High pitch chimes and digitalized chirps come from the Rubix cube as it tries to float on its own.

"Easy, your not ready for a flight test just yet." I catch it in my hands and smile as the small light that mimicked an eye movement stared up at me.

"I think I'll call you, DOD; Drone of Defence. What do you think?"

It hums.

"Oh yeah, voice diagnostics aren't done. Sorry."

DOD beeps and directs its glowing eye to the door.

"Yeah, I just need to grab something from my workbench." Forge barges in and is shocked by my presence.

"Oh, you're still here." He glances towards my room, "Did you even sleep last night?"

"Night?" I looked at the time on my watch, 5 am, amazed that I hadn't registered the hours pass me by. "I guess I was on a roll."

"Well, I see you made use of that old baton. What does the red button do?"

"Want to find out?" I grin, reaching over and putting on a pair of safety glasses, "I haven't tested it out yet, so be prepared for sparks. Literally." before Forge can take any procautions I press the red button lightly, igniting the white electric current wrapping around the metal baton.

"Woah!" A new voice comes in.

I switch it off and notice that Kurt is standing behind us, awestricken by the electric baton.

"You have a knack for this kind of thing." Forge smiles.

"My other creation isn't quite ready yet though." I rub one of DOD's Rubix squares with my finger.

"You're kidding, you made a drone?" Forge looks at DOD closely.

"That is so cool!" Kurt smiles, adjusting his odd-looking helmet.

"I can't say the same about that getup, what are you wearing?" I look over the panel box strapped to his chest with a datapad and the bike looking helmet.

"I've been working on a device to help Kurt slow down his teleporting speed so that we can see just where he goes. That brimstone dust has to come from somewhere, right?" Forge explains.

"Ja, and maybe we can figure out a way to make me teleport faster and farther."

"That's incredible."

"We are going to do a demonstration once everyone wakes up if you're interested."

"I'd like that," I look at Kurt, "Did you install any safety precautions?"

"No why?" Forge asks, rummaging through his workbench.

I glare at him, "because we have no idea what Kurt will run into if there is another place he transports to."

"He will have Logan with him."

"Oh yes, and Logan is a great help. I'm sure he will throw him extra carefully at enemies."

"He is sorry about that." Kurt interrupts, looking back and forth as Forge and I argue.

"Point is, Kurt should have something to protect him."

"It's too late to install something like that before the test run."

"I'll program it to overload if prompted."

"What?! No! That will fry the circuits!"

"Well, you should have been thinking about Kurt's safety. I won't allow him to go into danger like that without proper defense."

"Allow?" Kurt and Forge grin romantically.

"I absolutely forbid it," I whisper sweetly to Kurt. He smiles leaning casually into my personal space.

"And you can relax, Forge, this overload will only activate all active systems at full compacity, letting off an electrical shock. It will spook off anything directly in front of Kurt, but will not harm key components."

"You talk like a computer," Kurt chuckles, "It's kinda cute."

Forge rolls his eyes, "fine, you better hurry though the others are gathering in the training room." He walks out, leaving Kurt and me alone.

I begin working on the panel, exposing its wires and circuitry. I feel Kurt's eyes leave me and land on my computer systems, "Your work is fascinating, Vi. Why do you have so many monitors on? Can't you just do it from one?"

I smile at the nickname he called me, "It helps me sort through information simultaneously. Helps when there is a lot of information on a subject or I don't want to keep flipping between pages."

"What kind of information?"

My hands stop once I grab a wire between the tweezers, "Kinds that are better off controlled by someone like me."

"Then why do you do it if it makes you stressed?"

"Someone has to keep other people safe. The Xmen have their way of helping and I have mine. My parents used to help me with all this, but they don't exactly have the world's best interests in mind anymore; they'd start a third world war if it got what they wanted."

"You've never mentioned to your parents."

"That is a long story, Kurt. All you have to know is that they aren't the nicest people and I have no way of controlling their ambitions anymore."

"Maybe one day, you'll tell me the entire story."

I chuckle well aware that if I told him the whole story, how I got the radio, how I dealt with the previous owner of it, and what I've done to get this far, he would never look at me the same. The way he looks at an innocent person; a normal person. I didn't want to ruin that.

"Yeah, maybe."

I close the panel on his chest but don't let go.

"Are you busy this Saturday?" he asks.

Goosebumps run along my arms, hoping that he is going to ask me to his school's dance. "No, not at all why?" knowing that I can't know for sure in my line of work.

He rubs the back of his neck and starts to trip over his words, "I had so much fun on our date at the carnival." he stopped, "I mean- was it a date?"

I nod, moving the hair from his face.

"Well, there is this dance..."

"Kurt, everyone is waiting for you! Come on, we are so tired, I'm trying to catch some more Zs." Evan shouts from the room across from us.

"Ah, well, can we talk later?" Kurt asks, rubbing my elbow.

"Definitely."

Evan walks in, obviously not a morning person. Kurt and I back away from each other, "Yes, you're all set, just hold this switch here and the panel will overload." I go over.

"Right, thank you, Vi."

Kurt walks out the door with Evan. "I'll be there in a moment," I say, latching the baton into a clip holster on my thigh.

I hear Evan whisper teasingly to Kurt, "Vi? Dude!"

"Shut up!" Kurt hurries into the next room, ducking from my view.

Xavier watches as Logan and Kurt finish getting ready for Forge's test. The rest of the Xmen yawn and groan. "Did you get my pictures?" Kitty grins and elbows me. "Yes, Kitty."

"Did he ask you yet?"

"He's getting around to it."

"You two would look so cute together, Vi." Rogue chimes in.

There is that nickname again...

"Does everyone know?" I chuckle.

"He was asking us for advice," Scott whispers in, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I look at Jean, hoping she would let me in on something Kurt said to her, but she just stays silent, focusing on Forge's demonstration. We all follow her example and pay attention as forge prepares his demonstration.

"Alright Kurt, everything is hooked up- teleport at will. "

"Hey! I'll head over to the school and get a sneak peek at the decorations for the dance."

Everyone murmurs with glee and while Kurt readies himself to teleport. They stand there for a few minutes staring into space.

Then a few more seconds pass, "uh Kurt?" Logan asks.

"I- I don't know, I can't teleport."

Logan slowly turns his gaze to me.

I raise my brow with attitude, "What is there something on my face?" I feel Scott knock on my wrist bands.

"Oh. sorry." I move towards the door and Kurt and Logan immediately disappear in a puff of purple smoke.

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

I pick my cuticles as my eyes scan the open area of the training room, waiting for Kurt's return. "Do you have a visual on them?" I ask Forge while getting up and shuffle him out of the way of his monitor.

He huffs, "yeah, right there." he points out Kurt's vitals and I am somewhat relieved. "Brief me on your back up retrieval plan."

"My what?"

I look stirnly at Forge, "your plan if they get stuck in there?"

Xavier looks over waiting for Forge to explain.

"Uh..."

"'Uh' is not a backup retrieval plan!"

"Forge, you informed me that you had a plan." Xavier wheels up to us.

"Well... I had one coming."

"Forge!"

As everyone questions Forge I hear a small buzzing noise come from his computer. "uh oh." I quickly kick Xavier's chair away and tumble to the side with Forge in my arms as his computer explodes from overload.

The sparks settle as the team coughs from the rising smoke. "What happened?" Forge asks, getting startled by the sprinklers turning on. I gather my wet hair and begin to drain it, "I happened, genius. That overload happened because Kurt activated MY safety measure."

A phone begins to ring and I instinctively grab my own.

"Logan?" Xavier asks into his own phone. "at the school?"

I can hear Kurt in the background, "Never teleporting again!"

*****

I fidget with my keyboard as the day goes by. Once the professor and storm retrieved logan and Kurt from the school everyone gave them some space. I objected to him going to school for the rest of the day, but he insisted he would be alright, even with how shaken up he was. He told me he saw red dinosaur monsters in the dimension he traveled to.

I sit up and search through the information my previous agents acquired. "Says here that there have been sightings of red reptilian giants when Doctor strange opened a portal two years back."

My monitor starts ringing as I find his contact information.

"Hello?"

"Doctor Strange? This is the commander." I ensure that the voice masking is working properly before continuing. "I'll cut right to the chase. I hear you've opened a dimensional veil in the past and some creatures had escaped from its fragments. Could you describe them?"

"Which commander? I hear your litter brigade is going through some dilemmas."

I pause, " Where did you hear this?"

He chuckles, "So this is the real commander? I had a hunch the last one was a fake. Someone contacted me claiming to be the commander and if I spoke a word about it I would be eliminated."

"How do you know I am not the imposter?" I continue baiting him.

"Because killing isn't your style. It's been a long time since you came to me for information. I'm guessing you're referring to the apex predators belonging to the brimstone dimension, courtesy of our mutual friend Azazel? Yes, I've run into them, and the only way to be rid of the pests is to mimic the portal of entry."

"So it is possible for them to escape through cracks of the closed portals?"

"Very."

"I appreciate the detail."

"Of course, commander. I do owe you after all."

I stay silent remembering the information I used to feed him regarding his old human girlfriend.

"And commander? I hope you kick those frauds out."

I hang up hesitantly.

"Find anything on those creatures?" Logan's voice comes from the door behind me. My brow narrows, "fortunately, I have."

"Great, whatcha got?"

"What do you have."

" 'scuse me?"

"It's 'What do you have?' not 'whatcha got?"

"Gotta problem with how I talk?"

"That is hardly the problem."

"So what? Is it ma throwin arm?"

My fists tighten, "Enough of this, I will report my findings to the professor." I lock my monitors before I leave Logan with an idiotic smile plastered on his face.

*****

"So we could be looking at these creatures coming into our dimension?" Xavier asks.

"We WILL be is more accurate." I correct.

"So we have to mimic Kurt's teleportation right?" "Forge begins, "Oh come on that is child's play for Vi and I. HA! Vi and I..."

Forge looks at my unamused expression and kills his chuckle, "Anyways we can totally rig that up, Vi!"

"I am glad you're enthused, we will need to construct it right away."

The front door opens and the student's laughter pours into the mansion.

"Let's keep this to ourselves, we wouldn't want to alarm the students so close to their dance."

Forge and I nod and walk out into the main corridor. I spot Kurt and decide that this is a better time than ever to give him the chance to ask me to the dance.

As I approach him his eyes lock on me, but he quickly turns around and teleports away. I reach the others as they look at me with an apologetic face.

******

Earlier that day (Kurt's POV)

"Ah, man! What do I do?!" I groan letting my forehead hit the table. "Well, you've kind of set yourself up, man." Evan chuckles.

"It's not funny! You know how much I wanted to ask Violet to the dance! I was so caught up in trying to ask her I didn't even think that Amanda would ask me."

"Why don't you just tell Amanda the truth?" Scott offers, more sympathetic to me.

"Oh ja. Hey Amanda! I can't go to the dance with you because I want to go with a different girl who doesn't even go here. I'm not that stupid!"

"Point taken. Sorry, pal."

******

later that night (Violet's POV)

Back at the monitors again. I lazily click around the blueprints for the device Forge and I need to complete as soon as we can. It's ridiculous for me to be upset that Kurt has another date, I am here for one purpose. "Geez, its only been a few weeks of being here, why do I feel so emotional about this?"

"Because you're a teenager." I groan as I see Logan come up next to me.

"That was a private thought Mr. Howlet."

"Oh ho ho, ya know ma actual name. How long it take ya to fish that out?"

"Please, your information may as well be posted on a wiki page."

He chuckles then shifts closer to me, "look I know ya don't like me, but you're still a student here-"

"I am no such thing! You will do best to remember that I came here to complete a job, not condone or contribute to your training of mutants."

"So you hate mutants."

"No! I don't. I - I don't know. No."

I sigh and get out of my chair, "regardless of my opinions on mutants I am not here to explain it to you. Nor do I need you to explain my own feelings."

Logan nods sarcastically and begins to walk out. Honestly, I am surprised he is leaving without a fight.

"Remember, we all have one thing in common kid, " he stops at the door, " We've all been afraid of our own minds."

My body cradles itself once he leaves.

"I'm here to do a job. I'm here to do a job. I'm here..."

The lights go out and the only thing illuminating on my body are the countless monitors on the wall.

"God. Why am I here?"

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