#all of what's LEFT of us i mean. they've already made over half of us drop out from sheer pressure in the 1st semester (18 left from 45+).

[coffee-bat]

i should be studying phycology..but i dont want to

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ ch 2

note: thank you all again for the support on this series im seriously so grateful <3 not sure how to feel abt this part but pls enjoy anyway <3

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 3.0k

no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'

summary: the gang goes out to the pub, and against your better judgement you decide to tag along. you end up having far too much to drink and ghost has no choice but to look after you.

warnings: ghost is less mean (but it's still ghost), the usual angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, some ambiguous drunken confessions, mentions of throwing up but i kinda skipped over it

ao3

【prev】 || 【next】

the relentless buzzing of your phone next to your head wakes you from your slumber. you groan, squinting at the screen to see soap's name on the caller id. you answer and lift the phone up to your ear, rubbing your eyes with the other hand as you pull yourself up to sit.

"hey! where are you?" soap's voice is almost deafening in your ear as soon as you pick up, you have to hold the phone away from you to save your hearing. "y'are still comin', right?" the faint noise of a crowd can be heard in the background, reminding you of what soap's question means.

you check the clock on your phone and wince at the time; it was almost nine, and you were supposed to meet them at the pub at eight.

"ugh," you clear your throat, your voice croaking from having just woken up, "yeah– yeah, i'm coming. just gimme, like, fifteen minutes."

"awright, l.t. said you was still asleep," soap chuckles, clearly amused by your sleep-addled state. you sit up and throw the blankets off your legs, swinging them over the side of the thin mattress and beginning the search for some clean clothes.

you hadn't gotten out of bed all day, opting to stay in your comfy pyjamas and barely leaving the living room except to briefly eat and use the bathroom. after the the disaster that was yesterday, you felt you deserved to have a lazy day for once.

"oh, so he already left without me? why am i not surprised?" you grumble, balancing your phone between your cheek and your shoulder as you pull on some trousers.

"he said he didn't wanna wake you!" soap is half laughing as he replies. you have to hold back your scoff as you put him on speaker and drop the phone onto the coffee table as you quickly put your shirt on.

"yeah, okay." your voice is dripping with sarcasm, and you can't help but roll your eyes, even though he can't see it, "i'll be there, hanging up now, buh-bye."

you just about hear his muffled 'bye!' before you press the red button and shove your phone into your pocket. 

you really didn't feel like being social right now, but maybe being around your friends and letting go is what you need right now. you could just ignore ghost – it's not like it'd be hard, you were fully expecting him to completely avoid you all night. knowing him, he'd probably make you walk home by yourself again.

the walk to the pub is uneventful, thankfully dry, and it takes you twenty minutes instead of fifteen. you feel a little bad for making them wait, but they've been there over an hour already, an extra five wouldn't hurt.

the noise of the crowd hits you as soon as you walk into the old building, and you hope it isn't noticeable the way you frown at the sight of how packed it was. you were feeling even less like socialising now that you were actually here, but it was too late to turn back now. your eyes scan the room, searching for your teammates in the sea of people. you spot a familiar mohawk fairly quickly, and begin pushing your way through the crowd to the booth he and gaz are occupying.

you glance towards the bar and price and ghost both there, too locked in conversation to notice your arrival. you'd have to find price later to say hello.

"sting, you made it!" soap's cheery voice brings you back to the present. he pats your shoulder as you slump into the seat next to him, and gaz slides your usual order across the table to you.

"ordered for you a minute ago." gaz smiles, leaning forward on his elbows, "figured you could use it."

"you're legend, gaz, honestly." you chuckle in response, taking a drawn out sip and relaxing in your seat. as much as you would rather still be in bed right now, you couldn't deny you needed it.

"you okay? you look a bit worse for wear." gaz asks, his gaze turning serious as he takes in your exhaustion.

did you? you hadn't actually looked at your reflection before you left the house, you simply hoped that you didn't look too dishevelled and didn't think twice about it. you suppose the bags under your eyes must be quite heavy after the nosedive your life seems to have taken lately.

"charming, thanks for that." you mutter, teasingly raising your brows at him as you take another sip of your drink.

"sorry, sorry," he and soap both laugh, before he regards you with a more concerned look, "but seriously, you doin' alright?"

"i'm fine, just tired, you know how it is." you dismiss his question with a wave of your hand, hoping he'll drop the subject and you can get started on forgetting about the events of this week. "sorry for being late, by the way."

"make it up to us with another round?" soap wiggles an eyebrow at you, tilting his empty glass at you and nudging your arm. 

"since you asked so nicely," you say with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. they both give you a triumphant 'thanks!' as you slide out of the booth and begin making your way through the crowds of people to the bar.

as you approach, you see ghost standing by himself at the bar, a black surgical mask cover the lower half of his face, and before you can stop yourself your legs are already leading you to the empty spot next to him. as usual he doesn't acknowledge you, but you can't find it in yourself to care through the buzz of the alcohol in your system.

you flag down the bartender and order the drinks for the three of you while adamantly trying to ignore the large presence next to you; you'd barely started on your first drink, but you were going to need more than that to get through this, especially if you and ghost were going to be dancing around each other all night.

the next couple of hours are filled with you downing drink after drink, steadily becoming less and less intelligible as the night progresses. at some point gaz excused himself to go chat with price at the bar, leaving just you and soap at the table. though you couldn't see ghost when you looked over, you had no doubt he was lurking in some shadowy corner somewhere, just watching.

"he's just so…" you wave your hands around, willing johnny to somehow understand your point as the words escape you, "...y'know?"

"do i know?" he laughs, obviously very amused by your drunken state.

"mean! he's rude and uncooperative, and it pisses me off." you groan, pressing your fingers into your temples. venting to someone about ghost was somewhat cathartic for you, even if that someone was his closest friend.

"aye, that's not how you really feel though, is it?" soap raises his brow, that insufferably teasing smirk on his lips as he gives you a light nudge.

"wha–" you gawk, freezing in the motion of downing your drink – you'd lost count of how many you'd had at this point. you narrow your eyes and glare at him, "garrick… he grassed didn't he?"

"you think i needed him to tell me?" soap laughs again, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the thought that you were really that obvious. "but seriously, you should talk to him."

"i should, right? i mean… we live together, it's not unreasonable to ask him to be civil."

"exactly!" he exclaims, making encouraging gestures at you with his hands. "maybe you two can get a bit more than civil," he grins mischievously and wiggles his eyebrows at you, earning an embarrassed groan from you.

"oh, shut up soap." you hiss, gulping down the rest of your drink in one go. "i'm not drunk enough for this…"

after that conversation, your concept of time truly left the building, along with any reservations you had about moderation. eventually you do find time to say hi to price, though you think he was probably laughing at how out of your mind you were rather than the hilarious joke you told him.

you're not sure what time it is when gaz, soap, and the captain track you down to say goodnight, leaving the pub with much more coherency than you when ghost drags you out with him.

the freezing temperature hits you as soon as you step over the threshold, but thankfully there's more than enough alcohol in you to keep you warm.

you started the night fully intending to give ghost the cold shoulder, but that was hours and however many drinks ago; now you were long past the fun part of being wasted and the depressive nature of it all was hitting you hard.

"i wish you– you didn't hate me…" you mutter, dragging your feet as you follow behind ghost. he's not walking as quickly as he did yesterday, but even in your inebriated state you can tell he's making sure to stay ahead of you.

"i don't." he replies dismissively, evoking an exasperated, albeit rather dramatic sigh from you. of course he was going to argue about it, owning up and apologising would be far too mature.

"y–" you hiccup, "yeah you do," frustration lacing your voice. you slow your pace until you completely stop walking, staring at the back of his head with narrowed eyes.

"i don't hate you, sting." he sighs, half turning his body to look at you. "come on, keep walkin'." he gestures with his head.

"ugh…" you groan, but comply and stumble forward catch up to him again "then why're you such a fuckin' prick all the time?" you glare at the side of his masked face now that you're walking next to him.

he says nothing, doesn't even look at you. if you didn't know any better, you would doubt he even heard your question.

"i don't hate you, y'know…" you mumble,  crossing your arms over your chest. "even though you're so– so horrible to me all the time." the urge to cry overwhelms you, your eyes falling to your boots as you shuffle along.

"i'm n–"

"you are!" you interrupt, throwing your arms out to the side and stopping in your tracks again. "every day you say shit to me, i don't– i don't get it! i don't know what to do…" you sniffle, dragging a hand over your face and taking a wobbly step backwards, away from ghost. "why can't you just be nice? like everyone else?"

the night air is cold, and so tense you can almost feel it. ghost's hands curl into tight fists by his sides as he stares you down. 

"i'm your lieutenant, sting, not your mate." he states it like a common fact as he reaches an arm out to you, stepping towards you. "you're drunk, come here."

you don't let him get close, however, and take another few steps backwards. "but you're friends with soap, and gaz, and even the captain!" your eyes well up with tears, and despite your best efforts to stop them, you feel the hot sting of them rolling down your cheeks. "what did i do wrong? why can't you like me too?"

again, he does nothing but stare at you. he blinks once, then twice, in what you might call shock – if you could see his face through the way the world spins around you.

"i like you!" you cry. "i always have, and you– you don't have to like me back, but please," you close your eyes in an attempt to alleviate your sudden dizziness, "just stop being such a dickhead to me! you make my life so difficult, and– and miserable!"

"sting…" ghost mutters, watching as you crouch down on the pavement with your head in your hands. he steps closer again, reaching a hand out to awkwardly pat your shoulder. "is that why you got yourself hammered tonight?"

"yes!" you whine through your tears, your head still swimming and causing you to sway slightly. "like you care!"

"listen," he begins, but you quickly cut him off by lurching forward onto your hands and knees on the harsh pavement.

"i'm gonna throw up–"

✹✹✹

"i'm sorry," you blubber, feeling rather pathetic where you're slumped next to the toilet, "please don't kick me out," tears still fall into your lap, but you gave up wiping them away a while ago.

"what?" ghost mutters from next to you. his calloused hands were keeping you upright from where he's crouched beside you on the bathroom tile. "why the fuck would i kick you out?"

"be– because i'm annoying, a– and you hate me…"

he sighs, "do you really think that lowly of me? how many times have i gotta say it before it gets through your thick skull?" he gently raps his knuckles against your forehead, "i. don't. hate you."

when you only sniffle in response, he sighs again before shifting to sit with his back against the bath next to you.

"well you could've fooled me…" you mutter, letting yourself lean against his side when the effort of keeping yourself up gets too much. you feel him flinch slightly and tense underneath you, but he doesn't move.

"i'm not good with…" he pinches the bridge of his nose, his head tilted downwards and his eyes squeezed shut. "i'm not kickin' you out, alright? no matter how much you piss me off." he pauses, and all you can do is watch him with your mouth slightly agape; this is the most he's ever said to you in one go since you met all those months ago. "and i shouldn't have run off last night. i just… i didn't realise you actually wanted to be friends… with me."

"bu…" your voice trails off, train of thought completely abandoned when he looks over and meets your gaze with his rich brown eyes.

"you're… you– i, er…" his eyes dart away from yours, finding a spot on the wall behind you to stare intently at. a sudden wave of exhaustion floods your senses, dropping your head onto his shoulder and allowing your eyes to fall closed, interrupting whatever thought he was trying to articulate. "fuckin' hell, alright… you're drunk, let's just get you to bed, eh?" his voice is just about audible as he manoeuvres your arm over his shoulders and lifts you to stand with practically no input from you.

he all but drags you out of the bathroom, and if you had any shred of coherency left within you you'd be mortified that he had to take care of you like this, but that's something for you to deal with in the morning.

you're pulled into the the living room where ghost drops you rather unceremoniously onto the sofa-bed, tugging the blankets from underneath you and settling them on top of your already half asleep form.

"night ghosty…" your sigh is muffled with your face buried into the pillow, but he pauses in the doorway when he hears it.

"goodnight, sting." he mumbles, before quietly shutting the door and letting you drift to sleep.

you wake up the next morning – or rather afternoon, since it was already one o'clock – with an absolutely splitting headache. it was expected, obviously, but it didn't stop you whining in pain as you sat up and clutched your head. how much did you end up drinking last night?

last night. right. it was all coming back to you now. you'd cried at ghost again, for the second night running, and even though he said he wasn't kicking you out, you would seriously prefer living on the streets to facing him right now.

you reluctantly emerge from the living room and squint at the bright daylight, groaning pitifully when your head pulses. maybe you should save yourself the trouble and just go back to sleep.

"so, you survived the night." ghost's voice calls from the kitchen, sounding incredibly unimpressed. you cringe at his words, naively hoping that he'd pretend the night before didn't happen like you so desperately wanted to.

"did i?" you grumble, walking through the doorway to find him sitting at the kitchen table, clad in his usual balaclava. you lean against the counter and massage your temples, "feel like i've been shot…"

"maybe you'll keep your head on straight next time. i don't want a repeat of that."

you purse your lips. "right…" you mutter, no energy left in you to come up with a retort.

"i had to drag you home, cryin' your eyes out." he gets up as he speaks, grabbing his cup and skirting around you to place it in the sink. he keeps his distance, but you see him watching you from the corner of your eye. "anyone would'a thought i was kidnappin' you."

"oh god…" you bury your face in your hands, your face heating up with the humiliation of the memory, "i'm sorry,"

"s'alright." he mumbles, still opting to gaze out of the window rather than meet your eyes. you blink in surprise at his short dismissal, but before you can formulate a response, he speaks again. "have a shower, sting. you stink."

you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget about that idea. he was right, of course. without another word, you scurry out of the kitchen and lock yourself in the bathroom. you drag your hand over your face, willing the floor to just swallow you whole already.

you might as well have just died in your sleep, because you can't see ghost letting you live any of this down for as long as you live; though, as you stand there contemplating fleeing the country, you notice that he hadn't been nearly as pissed as you'd expected him to be this morning. you'd anticipated him grilling you about how careless you'd been and how irresponsible it was to drink that much, but the light teasing you'd endured just now felt more like the kind of banter you witnessed between him and soap, or gaz.

you can't help the giddy smile that overtakes you, your killer hangover nearly forgotten in favour of the thought of him finally letting you get close to him.

taglist: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @ghostlythots , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @isseisslvt , @prodyng , @neteyamsb1tch , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @dimitriene , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @dommmymommy , @carolelacroix , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev

if your name is crossed out, i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry!

[heavyhitterheaux]

Put a Bounce House In You

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by jackharlow, saweetie, urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, laflare1017, estgee, softtcurse, danivalentine, and 2,089,446 others

y/ninsta: face you make when hubby took his lyrics a little too seriously and actually did put a bounce house in you but it's okay because you know he'll dick you down whenever you want 🤭

jackharlow: did you think I was lying when I said that? same thing goes for daycare in her throat.

urbanwyatt: here they asses go

2forwoyne: they've gotten worse since she's gotten pregnant. didn't think that was possible smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow no I didn't think you were lying, but uh I didn't expect 3 at one time either smh

jackharlow: y/ninsta no ragrets

normani: jackharlow lmaooo jack shut up lol

saweetie: is the new robe I bought you comfy?!

y/ninsta: saweetie it is, thank you!

jackharlow: saweetie she never wears it for long though lmao

saweetie: jackharlow bunch of nasties! smh

jackandy/naremyparents: okay skin is glowing!

lilnasx: what's in that bag on the side? some whips and chains? 👀

y/ninsta: lilnasx no! that's one of my make up bags!

lilnasx: y/ninsta mm hmm sure. that's what you want us to think

druski2funny: oh? jack be tying you up, y/n?

y/ninsta: druski2funny no. I tie him up. 😏

jackharlow: y/ninsta what the? what the hell is going on?

lilnasx: jackharlow I knew you were a sub lol

jackharlow: y/ninsta since when do you tie me up?! I thought it was the other way around

saweetie: oh it's getting spicy in here

y/ninsta: jackharlow 👀

jackharlow: y/ninsta baby don't get up here and lie, because you already know what's about to happen. pregnant or not.

urbanwyatt: yeah imma head out smh 2forwoyne I'm coming over

2forwoyne: urbanwyatt bring a slice of that cheesecake y/n made this past weekend with you

y/ninsta: 2forwoyne the babies ate it

2forwoyne: y/ninsta YOU MADE AN ENTIRE PAN

jackharlow: 2forwoyne she ate half of it, got sick and then proceeded to throw up everywhere. Then the next day did it all over again. she over there crying because she was tired of throwing up but I was like baby you did this to yourself. I told her ass not to do it. AND THEN ASKED ME TO GO BUY HER TACOS. I WAS LIKE MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

neelamthadhani: jackharlow whatever my girl wants. you better get it for her. ain't nobody playing with you. if she tells me otherwise it's on sight smh

y/ninsta: the people love me 🥰

y/ninsta: jackharlow blame your children and no ragrets. I'd do it again too. that shit was good.

jackharlow: neelamthadhani i swear everyone just throws me under the bus when it comes to her

2forwoyne: y/ninsta well can you make me another one?!

y/ninsta: 2forwoyne no my boobs hurt

quiiso: y/ninsta what the hell does that have to do with anything?

y/ninsta: quiiso idk, everything is just so sensitive on me

jackharlow: y/ninsta including that pussy

y/ninsta: jackharlow will you quit it?! CONTROL YOURSELF 😭

jackharlow: y/ninsta LOOK WHO'S TALKING

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, djdrama, privategarden, nemoachica, 2forwoyne, and 3,760,992 others

y/ninsta: if lost return to wifey which is me. Yall can return Urby to Curse if she wants to take him back that is. Yall see I'm hella pregnant and my husband and best friend just left me in this house by myself? THE FUCKING AUDACITY

jackharlow: PAUSE. NO ONE LEFT YOU BY YOURSELF. I WOULD NEVER DO THAT. CUT THE SHIT NEOW

claybornharlow: see, if you were with me you wouldn't be going through this

danivalentine: CLAYBORN!

saweetie: jackharlow who the hell is with her then?!

claybornharlow: 👨🏼‍🦯👨🏼‍🦯👨🏼‍🦯👨🏼‍🦯👨🏼‍🦯👨🏼‍🦯

jackharlow: saweetie dani, jess, and blanca.

jackharlow: AND HOLD ON y/ninsta knew I was going to Boston and told urb to come with me! I didn't even want to go without her! she INSISTED that I did

theestallion: jackharlow sure, jan. jackandy/naremyparents: look at dad! softtcurse: I guess I'll take him back urbanwyatt: softtcurse the hell you mean, you guess? softtcurse: urbanwyatt I'm in Boston too so you better call me once the game is over urbanwyatt: softtcurse since when?! softtcurse: since y/ninsta told me where you two were going and sent me to check on yall because you are two toddlers who cannot be trusted y/ninsta: now, who said that?! would you look at the time! I need to take my prenatal vitamins. kbye. jackharlow: y/n!!!!! get back here! softtcurse: jk, I have a photoshoot I'm doing but... you two do need a chaperone smh

normani: jackharlow you sure we talking about the same person? wifey likes to be attached to you at all times and you are the exact same way smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow oops. pregnancy brain. I forgot about that part. okay yall pay no attention to the caption above. claybornharlow LITTLE BABY!

jackharlow: she stays stressing my ass out and yall don't even hesitate before coming for me smh

saweetie: jackharlow it's outta love tho. gotta keep your ass in check.

jackharlow: saweetie 🙄

claybornharlow: y/ninsta I went to that taco place and got the six different salsas you like with the tacos, street corn, tres leches, and burrito for later.

jackharlow: claybornharlow some of that better be for you because y/ninsta what the actual fuck?! you about to make yourself sick again

y/ninsta: jackharlow your children are hungry!

2forwoyne: clean up on aisle Triple Threat Harlows lmaoooo

y/ninsta: jackharlow I'll be fine, you worry too much. but uhhh you looking real zaddy like in that first pic like you getting ready to punish me for something and who you looking that good for? better be for me and me only and not all these damn cougars

nemoachida: got dammit here they go smh

jackharlow: y/ninsta oh? I am definitely about to do that once I get back and you better be ready for me and it's only you

sza: jackharlow if she isn't throwing up everything she ate that is.

y/ninsta: jackharlow green is definitely your color, but.... I also like seeing you in nothing 😏

jackharlow: y/ninsta get on facetime in 10 minutes

y/ninsta: jackharlow shit, don't have to tell me twice 😜

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, bostonceltics, jaysontatum, saweetie, softtcurse, danivalentine, and 3,082,371 others

y/ninsta: and who the hell you looking at like that because I know for a damn fact it's not me. Wayment don't tell me I gotta compete with Jayson now. That has to be who you're looking at. Say it ain't so 😭 (I'm not mad tho, not hard on the eyes at all)

jackharlow: your pregnancy hormones have me fighting for my damn life out here. outta pocket😭

sza: damn and jayson is cute! slide him my number boo!

y/ninsta: sza he's jack's now. I just have to accept it. it's okay. about to make me raise triplets by myself as a single mother so he can go and live his best life. I gotta take him to court for child support

jackandy/naremyparents: I just knew it was too good to be true! look how jack is looking at him! that look should be reserved for his wife only!

y/ninsta: jackandy/naremyparents you get me baby. you get me.

saweetie: y/ninsta bitch you got me up here fucking SCREAMING. I swear I can't stand your ass lmao

lilnasx: NOT CHILD SUPPORT 😭😭😭😭

danivalentine: y/ninsta you are so bored without your husband and I'm going to need for him to come back home lmao because you have be WILDIN since he left

jackharlow: I always tell yall how she be actin outta pocket but no one believes me

jaysontatum: now ms. first lady, I know better. I know jackharlow is yours even though I did treat him to dinner last night. I don't want no smoke.

y/ninsta: JAYSON YOU TOOK MY MAN TO DINNER?

jaysontatum: y/ninsta had to take him to one of the best restaurants in Boston while he was here! And I let him get the most expensive thing on the menu. I've seen your track record and I know how protective the two of you are over each other. I'll send him back home to you soon.

druski2funny: WAYMENT JACK! WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE LIFE PARTNERS AND THIS IS HOW YOU DO ME? FIRST Y/N AND NOW JAYSON?

y/ninsta: jaysontatum make sure he brings me back something expensive like a Birkin or something. nothing too crazy.

dualipa: oh. y/ninsta you know where to find me baby. let Jayson HAVE HIM!

jaysontatum: y/ninsta I got you mamas 😉

jackharlow: y/ninsta BABY! YOU DO NOT NEED ANOTHER BIRKIN! I JUST BOUGHT YOU FOUR MORE!

jackharlow: druski2funny it's not my fault we were going through problems and you didn't want to go to counseling smh

jackharlow: dualipa kick rocks until your toes bleed. I know where you live

jackharlowsource: LMAOOO I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT WITH THEM

dualipa: jackharlow PULL UP THEN! I'M HERE!

jackharlow: dualipa see you tomorrow

jackharlow: y/ninsta I know danivalentine did not just text me that you said when you saw a pic of me and jayson you said that you had another tree to climb

y/ninsta: jackharlow *insert mr. krab meme when he looks around confused*

jackharlow: y/ninsta you better be awake when I get back too smh

y/ninsta: pray for my coochie yall, jack about to kill it lmao

saweetie: y/ninsta I swear you get on my nerves lmao

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, jaysontatum, saweetie, djdrama, 2forwoyne, danivalentine, theshaderoom, and 3,872,904 others

y/ninsta: my baby is back just like jaysontatum promised and he told me he's not leaving me for Jayson so mission aborted. I got hella nervous for a minute there 😬

jackharlow: y/ninsta like I could ever leave that pussy behind HOWEVER if we fall out, you already know I'm going to him

y/ninsta: jackharlow shit, I'm coming too

druski2funny: count me in!

jackharlow: this ain't no damn foursome type thing going on! get yall own basketball player!

y/ninsta: jackharlow I would but steph is married and I don't want to break up a happy home. and besides I already have one! hint hint: white men can't jump

jackharlow: y/ninsta I'm ignoring that first part smh

jaysontatum: y/ninsta I told you that he was in good hands! did you get your gift?

y/ninsta: jaysontatum what gift?! jackharlow BABY WHERE MY GIFT AT?

jackharlow: y/ninsta it's me. I'm the gift.

y/ninsta: jackharlow ew. return to sender.

dualipa: yes, boss bitch energy! drop that man!

jackharlowsource: NOT RETURN TO SENDER LMAOOOO

jackharlow: y/ninsta WHAT? AFTER YOU WERE CRYING ON FACETIME TELLING ME YOU MISSED ME LAST NIGHT?! dualipa shut your ass up smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow just kidding pookie!

jackharlow: y/ninsta and why are you always taking pics when I'm sleep?!

y/ninsta: jackharlow because you look so cute and cuddly

urbanwyatt: let me leave to the other side of the house because I already know what's about to happen

jackharlow: urbanwyatt I'm about to go to sleep. nothing is about to happen.

y/ninsta: jackharlow who the fuck told you that? I've been without you for FOUR DAYS. pay me some attention!

jackharlow: y/ninsta call danivalentine!

y/ninsta: jackharlow no she didn't let me get mcdonalds yesterday so she's on my list

danivalentine: y/ninsta to keep you healthy!

y/ninsta: danivalentine my husband's dick does that just fine

theestallion: Y/N PLEASEEEEEE 😭😭😭

danivalentine: y/ninsta and that's why your ass is pregnant with three now smh

y/ninsta: not my fault on the dick I do gymnastics. jackharlow GET OVER HERE NEOW. I want another bounce house in me

jackharlow: jaysontatum send me a plane ticket back to Boston asap jaysontatum: jackharlow so your wife can kill me? nah, she can keep you lmao

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinaharlow

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@jackmansbabymama

@cmalass

@megawhoree

@softtcurse

@sia2raw

@miniaturehideoutmentality

@hoya122

@nattinatalia

@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@toocriticalharlow

@tattered-tales

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

@gillybear17

@jacksdaycare

@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

[mezzy303]

The new one piece chapter has me spiraling sdjkfshf so here's a theory that crossed my mind and is becoming more plausible the more I think about it

Spoilers (obviously) under the cut

The tl;dr is: What if the world of One Piece has always had rising sea levels/sinking land? What if these natural events happen in an 800 year cycle? What if there was way more land (like the real world) before the formation of the World Govt?

I'm not gonna get into the details of why that is bc that is a different mind boggling discussion and it isn't really important here. But if there's always been that threat, it would explain so much about the Void Century and the True History.

As many people have already pointed out, the threat of the world sinking into the ocean explains why Noah was needed. It's a giant ship half the size of Fishmen Island that was meant to be raised to the surface, likely for the inevitable future where there's virtually no land above water. It could be that threat never happened at the end of the Void Century so Noah wasn't needed, but what if it did happen? This would suggest a huge event happened that caused sea levels to rise 800 years ago.

This ties into my next point, that the Great Kingdom was part of land that is now underwater. We've already seen that there's underwater ruins from Jinbe's cover story where Wadatsumi was throwing ruins onto an island, one such ruin being a poneglyph, meaning that kingdom (maybe the land that island was once part of) was either part of the Great Kingdom itself or allied with it. So it wouldn't be a stretch to consider that the Great Kingdom is also currently below the ocean. It would also have made it easier for the World Govt to completely erase the Kingdom from existence, since it was already underwater and inaccessible to most people other than Fishmen. I can't recall if any ruins that are Void Century old have been canonically shown, which would mean either they've been completely destroyed with nothing left, or the areas have been continuously lived in and renovated, or they're in the ocean and the majority of structures currently on land is younger than the Void Century AKA people moved to higher lands when sea levels rose. It could be all the above too! If the Great Kingdom was at risk of sinking, then Noah might have been meant to carry their displaced citizens.

If those during the Void Century knew sea levels would soon rise, it might have been the reason for all the turmoil that started the Great War. Conflicts over limited resources, about who will live and who will die, general fear and anxiety, things like that. The 20 kingdoms that eventually formed the World Govt might have been suspicious about how the Great Kingdom was using their resources and went to war with them. Maybe they were threatened by how much power the Great Kingdom had as they prepared for the natural disaster (ie. the ancient weapons and Noah; from what we know from Egghead, technology was incredibly advanced at the time). Maybe it was just all boiled down to wanting control over a terrifying situation.

If the land sinking into the ocean is a natural phenomenon, then Joy Boy's apology to the Fishmen and mentioning of his return would mean that the event would happen again. Maybe it happens in an 800 year cycle, which explains why Joy Boy (and those sea kings in the Fishmen Arc) knew that Noah was still needed and how he knew exactly when he'd return. It also explains why Rayleigh warned that if he told Robin about the Void Century when the Strawhats first arrived at Sabaody, she "wouldn't be able to do anything about it as she was then." I think I've always assumed this had to do with the formation of the World Govt and how to dismantle it, but it might actually be about how the world is sinking and through following the poneglyphs, one would find the way to save those in danger of being displaced. The Ohara scholars had discovered this, and now Vegapunk is continuing their legacy by making this info public.

And as I'm writing this, I'm realizing that if sea levels rise/land sinks in an 800 year cycle, this might be the "true history" of the world, or at least part of it considering Joy Boy's story made the Roger's Pirates laugh. But it certainly is important and relevant as the wikia site describes! But why would the World Govt try to hide this? I'm not entirely sure. Maybe for the sake of having control over information and thus having power over the world, but there could be so many other reasons. There's hints throughout the story that suggest they're still preparing for a world with almost no land though, such as the Tequila Wolf bridge that's supposed to connect islands together, and the fact that the founding monarchs moved their families to Mary Geoise on the Red Line. Law also stated in Punk Hazard that the Govt has been researching growth hormones to turn humans into giant soldiers, and they've been doing this for centuries. It's possible that the research was really for the capability to walk through parts of the ocean when there's no longer any land above water.

Anyway my brain is fried thinking about all these things lol. There's so many other factors to consider but I'll save that for a later time when I get more sleep sjdkfhsdk

[itsclydebitches]

I honestly have no idea how they intend to greenlight volume 10 if it's not been greenlit already. They've announced the final season of Red vs Blue and a lot of early day fans are in agreement that the end of RvB is the signaling of the end of RT in general. It's their second biggest money maker next to RWBY. After this new season, it's over. What do they do next? Do RT really believe that RWBY is popular enough to coast on for another decade? It'll be a miracle if it lasts even one more year.

Their viewership has been on a decline since Volume 6, they've abused so much of their animation department that there's almost no one left, most of their VA talent for RWBY's popular characters aren't coming back due to all the controversies, any spinoffs or soft reboots or whatever keep going back to the Beacon era and don't really do much to help with the overall problems that are down to the roots of the company.

They even made their biggest ship that kept what few fans are left canon and put out half assed merch that sold out in minutes, and somehow they still haven't managed to find enough money to greenlight another volume?

If they somehow miraculously get Volume 10 made, it's probably going to be the last.

The last few years of RWBY have really highlighted for me how challenging it is to define "popularity" and "success" nowadays. Granted, a good chunk of that is simply my own ignorance about how the production side of things are run, but it nevertheless feels like there's this intense level of ambiguity that wasn't there in the past (or at least wasn't as obvious). Fandom itself has always been an unreliable source because depending on the corner of the internet you're in, you can get a wildly skewed perspective without engaging with everything that contradicts how "good" or "bad" you think things are going. As you say, merch sells out in minutes, yet neither the finances nor the implied security of that seems to be enough to land another Volume. There are questions about whether this could be a marketing scheme, wherein Volume 10's future is simply being kept under wraps to drum up interest. There's the question of whether popularity matters at all when we've got companies cancelling and pulling undoubtedly successful shows, all according to their own, long-term algorithms. On the one hand the information surrounding RT is all about the abuse of their workers, another scandal, how this might all tie into the strikes... and yet most of this is nothing new and RWBY has still secured movies, a soft reboot, comics, and books. I agree completely with your list above of all the ways in which the series is struggling (massively) and yet RWBY has been "dying" for half its run-time. So is this the final nail in the coffin—the inevitable ending that's been a long time coming—or just another year where the fandom unintentionally cries wolf?

I'm not so naive as to believe that things were actually simple 'back in the day'—that's the nostalgia talking—but it still seems like things were simpler in comparison to what we've got now. TV and its media equivalents used to be—or at least felt like—a fairly straightforward journey of airing, ratings, syndication, cancellation, renewal, and then (eventually) the viewer securing a copy for themselves via VHS and DVDs. Now it's like, "What do I do with the newbie webseries eventually bought up by a major corporation and moved from a free watch, to a company-specific streaming watch, to a different, more expensive streaming watch, all of which has led to a decade of success with various spinoffs, but apparently this webseries still isn't making enough money to continue? Regardless, it and everything else I love to watch is inching more and more towards digital-only copies, a status that is inherently nerve-wracking, which means that if it does suddenly crash and burn (given that this is one of two series keeping the original company afloat) circulating this story and maintaining the fandom will be that much harder."

I find that depressing and I'm someone who thinks RWBY is pretty awful right now. I can't imagine what that ambiguity and the state of streaming media in 2023 feels like to fans still in love with the show.

So yeah. Idk how they intend to greenlight Volume 10 either.

[kates-sweet-escape]

KinnPorsche - It's all a ruse (a theory)

Warning: This post contains spoilers for KinnPorsche the Series. Read at your own risk. I haven't read the novel, only bits and pieces that I've found online so this is purely based on the TV Series. Also, this post is based on the work of other amazing Tumblr creators that will all be credited within this post. Brace yourself - this is a long one.

Disclaimer: I am by no means an expert, I am just a german romance-novel writer. Also, I come from a eurocentric perspective as I was raised in Germany by a British mother and a German father.

Additional KinnPorsche Content by me:

KinnPorsche: The question of true privilege (Meta - Episode 6)

KinnPorsche: Kinns Breakdown - I can't believe you still want me (Meta - Episode 7)

Hello everyone.

I swear to god, the things this show and this fandom make me do. I usually don't share theories. Or meta. Or anything. I left the active part of fandoms a long time ago, but here I am, typing away with a facemask on and a half-empty glass of wine right next to me, cause damn I need a little self-care after watching the emotional rollercoaster that was Episode 9.

Ever since Episode 9 aired I've read a lot of opinions about Kinn, his character, and his choice not to trust Porsche. Reactions within the fandom vary from genuine understanding to absolute outrage, a fascinating mixture of empathy and cancel culture.

And ever since that devastating moment at the end of the episode I've been thinking. A lot. Maybe more than what is healthy considering the fact that this is just a TV-Show that somehow managed to take over my life.

Things didn't quite add up to me. I was caught in this weird emotional limbo of I do understand Kinn as a fellow individual with massive trust issues caused by ex-lovers that betrayed us and After what they've shown us last week and with the emotional progress those two characters have made, Kinns reaction does not make that much sense from a writers perspective.

So I went back to watch those last few minutes over and over again (and before you ask me - no, I am not okay! Porsches pleading and soft "Ai Kinn" will haunt me tonight), took screenshots, read the previous meta while trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. And then the brilliant @moerusaii posts this amazing piece of meta that convinced me to share my thoughts with you guys.

Because I have the theory that this might be an elaborate ruse by Kinn and Porsche to trick Tawan and Vegas.

And here is why:

Kinn, Tawan and that one mirror frame

This is that one frame that kickstarted it all for me in Episode 9. @luckydragon10 whom I'm very much a fan of, has talked about what mirrors signify in this post, and ever since then I've been paying a lot more attention to the usage of mirrors in KinnPorsche.

We see Tawan and Kinn alone in Tawans old apartment to retrieve the evidence of who is behind the Italians (which is probably useless anyway - and YES all the shade for this b*tch). While Tawan is "remembering" the real location of the USB stick, this shot happens. We see the real Tawan, but we only see the reflection of Kinn, probably signifying that Kinn has a hidden agenda, keeping the truth hidden from Tawan while showing a side of himself that is not real and only a mere reflection of himself.

It's only a short frame but something about it feels so deliberate that I couldn't possibly ignore it.

Maybe it also means that Tawan is only seeing an old version of Kinn, feeding into the issues he had rather than seeing the real Kinn that has maybe gotten rid of them with a partner by his side he can truly trust, all without his vicious ex-lover noticing who is focused on the reflection he is familiar with.

Kinn breaking the fourth wall

Okay, I've already mentioned @moerusai and her amazing post but I still want to add a little bit to that. (And thank you Mo for sending me a DM so I could use your gifs that looks a million times better than my screenshot!)

When I watched Episode 9 for the first time, this shot made me so uncomfortable. Kinn looks straight at the audience, no filter, no mirror, no nothing. And for the first time, I felt like I am looking at the soul of this man, bruised and bare and begging to be understood and to be trusted. It felt like he looked at me to tell me that things are going to be okay, as long as we keep our eyes on him and see past what is shown, willing to stare into the shadows until we can see everything that's hidden in the darkness.

The lighting when Vegas and Porsche are alone is not green.

We all remember this scene from Episode 7. The scene where Porsche and Vegas stumble into the bathroom. The light in this scene is green, signifying danger as the amazing @antique-forvalaka has pointed out in her "KinnPorsche and the Use of Color" Series that I will mention again later on. It has been pointed out by @yellingaboutkp in this post that Porsche faked being drunk because he already suspected Vegas being shady and wanted him to show his true colors (no pun intended). If we assume this to be true, then Vegas should remain a threat to Porsche, his light remaining green.

Now look at this:

The color in this scene is teal and not green. We've seen this color before, in episode 5, and as @antique-forvalaka pointed out in this post this specific mixture of blue and green is used when there is a danger that Porsche is able to handle. When he is not as helpless as he appears to be. When he is forming a plan.

But Kate, what does Vegas have to do with any of this? He isn't Tawan! Yes, my lovelies, you are correct. He isn't Tawan. But ever since he doubled down on the Kinn Shot His Ex Rumor, I am convinced that he's got something to do with it. Especially considering his disgustingly perfect timing and his offer to Porsche to run away together. In addition to that, we know that he will storm the compound from the trailer. So he is most definitely one of the main villains of the show and just like a snake with its beautiful and shiny green scales, he is able to slither into anything just so he can poison it in one swift bite.

We are still waiting for that handshake (Trailer)

Yes, the trailer. I am even going back that far. I am sure that this scene takes place at Yok's bar (she's a true MVP) and I think it might even be a flashback where Kinn and Porsche talked about their plan, far away from prying eyes and ears. And what could be more romantic than a date night like that? A couple that schemes together stays together!

But all jokes aside, this scene might also take place later on when the two of them have drifted apart, signified by the fact that Porsche is wearing Jeans, something he stopped doing ever since getting emotionally closer to Kinn and adapting part of his style. So I might be completely wrong about this and it's not them scheming but instead reconciling.

When it all goes up in flames - Porsche remains (KinnPorsche: The Hidden messages)

And since we are already on a trip down memory lane, I am taking you guys back to "KinnPorsche. The Hidden Messages" when it was announced that we would still be getting KinnPorsche the Series after months of thinking that it might get canceled.

We see Kinn standing in front of a banner with the word TRUST on it. It goes up in flames, revealing Porsche waiting behind it.

This could mean a great many things, especially now that they've decided to give him a phoenix tattoo that he also adapted into his name as an underground boxer. It could mean that he is rising from the ashes after Kinn burned the trust they've shared. Or it could mean that he is rising from the ashes of the trust that Tawan had broken when he sold Kinns information to the Italians. That Porsche is the one rebuilding Kinns trust from the dustry crumbs that Tawan left behind, willing to survive in the heat of the flames that lick at his skin, threatening to burn him too.

Either way, I think we can all agree that Porsche is the only one that Kinn can and should trust, and I sure as hell hope that my theory is correct and that Kinn knows that too.

[stellacadente]

so like having memory issues sucks sooo bad

i lost 2 umbrellas in like. 2 or 3 weeks maybe a month (you guessed it i can't really remember. passage of time is so hard) bc it rains, i use this neat little umbrella.... put it down at the bus stop just for a second so i can get something from my backpack and completely forget i ever had it and hop on the bus without my neat little umbrella! fuck! my mum bought me this one (i didn't lose the previous one tbf.. it broke)! so then a couple of weeks later, still without an umbrella bc yeah, i keep forgetting to buy a new one, i have to be out all day, and it's raining hard and will all day, so my mum offers to give me her umbrella. she doesn't really need to walk or anything today anyway. i'll give it back later. yeah right. except i enter the place where i have to take my driving license quiz, i put down my umbrella, right there at the entrance, and when i walk out later it's not raining and i have completely forgotten i ever had an umbrella with me. my mum's umbrella. which i leave there. bye bye to another umbrella. i tell my mum a few hours after i realize... i was scared she'd get mad. she gets mad. how can you forget this stuff all the time. just think about these things a little more. just pay more attention. ah. right. as if that's easy. i tell her! it's not easy! i feel awful about this, i feel awful every time! i'm frustrated. i want her to understand i don't do this bc i don't care about my or other people's things or don't pay attention to them. i tell her look, every time i get to work i go upstairs to refill my water bottle. then i get coffee and/or chat with coworkers. i put my water bottle down, i need my hands to get coffee. and every time. every. time. i go downstairs and realize i left my water upstairs. i curse myself, i groan, i tell myself come one nico, you must remember later/tomorrow. i almost never do. my mum sighs and laughs awkwardly. yeah, mum, i know, i'm not even 30 and my memory's already fucked. i must have some problem, i say. it's only half a joke. i know i do. she half-jokes too, oh that's for sure, haha. i just don't know which one the many problems i do in fact have are to blame for this. is it the abuse and trauma? the bpd that was the result of it? the many meds i've taken for the bpd and all the rest? the times i've abused those meds? all of those, something else? i don't know. i just know it's hard to feel like everything, from memories to objects to knowledge, is a second away from being lost to me. always. few things feel like they last. and as a person who's obsessed with forever, as a person who loves to learn and know and watch and read and listen, as a person who cares even too deeply sometimes... i feel like i lost myself every day. if myself even exists. what am i when i don't remember most of my life? when i've forgotten almost everything about people who mean the world to me, bc they've been gone for so long? i forget birthdays, i forget ages, i forget umbrellas, i forget unloading the washing machine, i forget i already told you this, i forget smiles, i forget movies, i forget things i studied, i forget i had to call, i forget i needed to add something to the guidebook, i forget if i already took my med or not, i forget my favorite concert, i forget my favorite book, i forget. i forget again.

yesterday i went on a rant on the discord server i'm in with my friends, even if i knew it wasn't likely anyone would see it, bc the server's not very active now and that channel especially, no one looks at it. but i was so so scared i'd forget what happened the other day and even worse would start doubting whether it all happened for real or i made up half of it to make up for voids in my memory. that happens often with stuff like that. the therapist i had my first appointment with was very weird about me being trans and i kept thinking about it and feeling bad and the more i think something over, something i'm upset about, the more i get scared that i'm not recalling things right. so i had to write it all down somewhere other people could, even just potentially, see, and i could look back on. i mean yeah, i also did need to talk about it, so it would've been nice if someone read and replied too, but it's okay, i just at least needed to put it down in words as soon as possible.

i guess i'm just scared it'll get worse and worse the more i age and it's already pretty bad now and yeah

[gmariam19]

I once started a post-TROS story where Finn and Poe went to a very intolerant planet to negotiate a treaty, but they were rejected and sent away because the ambassador assumed they were a couple. I thought it was interesting to explore, that a galaxy as big as theirs can't possibly be all friendly and accepting. How does one create a galactic alliance with so many different species with so many different beliefs? I don't know, and the story got stuck. In part because I wasn't sure how Poe would feel about it--would he understand the need to still work with them, or would he be too angry to set aside their differences? I'm still not sure. But it was also a way to get Finn and Poe to talk and admit their feelings for each other. I mean, if a bunch of strangers saw it, how could they avoid finally facing it?

I've left off the first part as it was a bit much, and I've made Poe more unsure about how he feels about it, but I still sort of like Finn and Poe's conversation and would like to finish it. So here's the beginning in hopes that sharing it kicks a bolt loose in my brain and I can wrap it up this week. Thanks for reading!

The meeting had been a disaster – he’s been kicked out off plenty of planets, though never as a general - yet it is Finn’s question that stops Poe in his tracks as soon as they walk through the door of their room. "Why aren't we a couple?" Poe feels like he's been kicked in the chest. He steps back, mouth working soundlessly until he finally manages words. "What are you talking about?" Finn shakes his head, waves his hands in that way he has when he’s agitated. "What I said. A bunch of strangers from another planet thought we were together and told us to leave. Half the people we know wonder why we're not and have placed bets on us. So why not?” He's right, and Poe is one of the people who’s wondered the same thing; maybe he should get in on the betting pool. "Is this really the time to talk about this?" he asks instead. "I don't know!" Finn exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. “I barely know what just happened!” He's clearly frustrated, but Poe is more confused. What is really bothering Finn—the failed negotiations on Allu, or Poe? "Look," Poe says, trying to stay calm even though his heart is pounding in his chest. It's not the time, and definitely not the place. "I think we should probably head out and talk about this somewhere else, once we're not still upset about the negotiations. But you have to believe me, it doesn't bother me that they thought they were together, not one bit. It's…flattering, really, an honor, that they would think…" He stops himself before he goes too far. "That they would see that in our relationship," he finishes. Finn narrows his eyes and points his finger at Poe. "Except for the part about it mortally offending them. Pack up, then. We're not finished." Poe nods, a nervous feeling settling into his gut. He feels like they are about to hit the tipping point, whether they are ready or not, and honestly, Poe's not sure he’s ready. He's known Finn for over a year and known for months that he has feelings for the other man. He's not nervous or ashamed of them; though his serious relationships have been very limited, they've involved both men and women. He's…cautious. Worried. And maybe more than a little scared. It’s the depth of his feelings for Finn that scares him. Finn has an amazing future—he's already started some Jedi training—and it will, inevitably, pull him away from Poe one day. The old Jedi didn't have relationships, and Poe doesn't want to hold Finn back. If Finn even felt the same way, which most of the time Poe has no idea. Sometimes there's a spark, a moment, and he thinks Finn might feel the same, but most of the time…most of the time they are friends. Best friends, and co-generals. And Poe is not sure what Finn might want from life, what growing up as a Stormtrooper has given him in terms of how Finn sees things like sex, relationships, family. The few times they've talked about it, in general terms, Finn admitted he’s not sure what he wants, what’ss normal, what’s even possible in a galaxy that is free. Poe has always tried to let Finn figure things out for himself, and would never pressure him to do something, or be someone, that he wasn't. So they pack quickly and leave, and the tension is thick, though Poe still isn't sure where it's coming from: their failure with the negotiations on Allu, or something more personal. Maybe a little bit of both. He can't help but feel like he's let Finn down in some way, and half dreads the conversation they need to have. He dreads it so much he suddenly wants to get it over with, and starts with an apology.

[imagines-fandom-backup]

Chapter 2.1

Masterlist

Warnings- Usual PB violence, swearing, allusion to SA at the very end

2 years later

All of us were gathered around Freddie's casket. Tommy stepped forward. "I promised my friend, Freddie Thorne, that I would say a few words over his grave if he should pass before me. I made this promise before he became my brother-in-law, when we were in France, fighting for the king. And in the end, it wasn't war that took Freddie. Pestilence took him. But Freddie passed on his soul and his spirit to a new generation before he was cruelly taken." The service ended right after that.

I took a little walk with Thomas and Ada. 

"We thought now that Freddie's gone, you might come back to Birmingham."

"We really miss you, Ada."

"God, do you know how funny it is that Tommy's got chauffeurs in uniform now?"

"It's just for the occasion."

"Do you know how unfair it is that you have 4 Bugattis when half the country's starving?"

"So now they've made you ashamed of us, eh?" We stopped walking.

"Sometimes when I think about how I used to be, it makes me embarrassed." Tommy and I glanced at each other. 

Polly walked up to us with a smile. 

"Karl is with his cousins. I caught them trying to pinch flowers off a grave. Ada, are you coming home?" 

"I'm going home."

"We make her embarrassed," I mumbled. 

I looked at Ada who rolled her eyes. 

"That's not what I said."

"There's another reason we want you home. We're planning an expansion. I'm taking premises in London."

"Tommy, it's a funeral. Business can wait."

"Polly, if Ada was weeping, then I'd stop. But she's not. The expansion means it's gonna be dangerous to be a Shelby in London for a while."

"Yeah. Well, I'm not a Shelby anymore. And I'm not a Thorne now either. I'm free. I've got to get Karl home." She walked away. 

She left the 3 of us standing there. Polly turned to look at Tommy. 

"I told you to let me do it."

"It's alright. I'll have some men watch her house till the danger passes." We watched a man on a motorbike ride up to Arthur. 

He quickly whispered something to Arthur. Arthur waved Tommy over as he started walking toward us. Aunt Polly leaned over to me. 

"Till danger passes."

"That'll be the bloody day." She nodded as we walked towards the crowd. 

Tommy, Aunt Polly, a few of our men, and I went to the Garrison. Someone had blown it up. We walked underneath the chains to get a better look. A copper was already there waiting for us. "It happened at exactly 7:00 a.m. Nobody saw anything. Our patrols were not in the area. Mr. Shelby, you got any idea who might have done it? I'd say it was something to do with the gas." 

We both know that's not true. We knew exactly who did it and why. He handed money to the copper. "Just been fitted." Aunt Polly walked inside. "Madam, the structure hasn't been declared safe. Madam," he yelled after her. 

She bent over to pick something up off the ground. ​​"This is all over the place." She handed some to Tommy. It was green confetti. What the hell? Tommy nodded to the copper.

"You can go."

"Right." He walked away. 

We stood there looking at the building. "Who? Who did this to us," Aunt Polly asked. Tommy and I went to a pub to find the people who did this. "Whiskey, Irish. None for her." He flopped his hat down on the counter. The bartender poured him the drink. Tommy put the money on the counter only for it to be pushed back to him. 

"Heard there was a bit of a bang in your part of town."

"Gas and electric don't mix. Who would've thought they would, eh?"

"How's business otherwise, Mr. Shelby?"

"You know something? In these times of hunger and hardship, business is surprisingly good." He turned to lean against the counter. 

He took a swig of his drink. A little boy walked down the old wooden steps. His heavy footsteps echoed through the small building. "Which one is the Peaky Blinder devils?" Tommy downed his drink to follow after the little boy. I was right behind him. We followed the little boy through backyards and alleyways. 

We had no idea where he was taking us. We walked inside a warehouse with one pig hanging up on a metal hook. It was naked and gutted. 2 men grabbed us from behind. They stripped us of our hats, guns, and coats. They put bags over our heads before pulling us along. They sat us down on wooden chairs before taking the bags off. 

We were sitting in a tiny room. A man and a woman sat across from us. There was an old table separating us. There was barely any light in the room. The only light was from the spaces between the boarded-up windows. 

"Thomas and Anna Shelby."

"You blew up our pub."

"Anger defeats fear. Good."

"You blew up my pub." 

"Tommy has a reputation to uphold," she looked over at her partner.

Her partner looked Tommy up and down. He finally spoke. 

"A reputation for not being scared of anything."

"In all the world, violent men are the easiest to deal with," she seemed to almost laugh.

Tommy glanced at me then back to them. "So tell me, which brand of rebel are you...eh? I read somewhere that you Paddies started fighting amongst yourselves now. The king offers you a peace treaty and you start a war about it. That's funny, don't you think? A war about peace." It went silent as the 4 of us stared at each other. 

"So are you for the treaty or against the treaty? Forgive me, I get confused," he leaned back in his chair. Her partner slowly reached for the gun. He got up from his chair, dragging the gun on the table as he walked over to me. The lady crossed her arms over her chest.

"You are one decision away from your deaths, Mr. Shelby." 

"So stop fucking smiling," her partner snapped.

I cleared my throat as I shifted in my seat. "Your name is Irene O'Donnell. You have a son at the Cherry Wood Road School in Harborne. He has irons on his legs. His name is Sean. He comes last in every race...poor boy. Poor boy, race is important. If you know what I mean, Irene." The gun was cocked and held to the side of my head. 

It was cold on my temple. Her partner didn't seem too smart. "Oh, she speaks. There are other ways of carrying out this mission. Please allow me to put the bullet in the scum tinker's head." Irene watched as she waited for my reaction. She wasn't getting one out of me. 

She still stared at me. 

"No. They research their enemies. That's why they've been chosen."

"We are chosen," Tommy asked. 

I looked at her partner. "I'm chosen."

"Can the chosen one smoke," Tommy asked again. 

The gun was taken from my head. Tommy reached in his pocket for his cigarettes. 

"A vacancy has appeared and you are going to fill it."

"Chosen by whom?"

"An informed consensus."

"We have things to do. So perhaps you could tell the chosen ones what we've been chosen for."

"From now on, you shut your fucking Gypsy mouthes and listen to your instructions." We were ushered out of the room. 

Our jackets and guns were hanging on the hooks next to the naked pig. We didn't say anything to each other as we got dressed. "Fuck," Tommy yelled as he knocked over some boxes. I stood aside as I watched him. Why can't anything just be normal? He wiped his mouth with his hand before putting on his coat and hat. 

I went home as Tommy went to his office. I guess the look on my face told Aunt Polly that I didn't want to talk about what happened. She could hear it from Tommy. We had a family meeting soon anyway. We sat around waiting for Tommy to get here. Finn was pacing back and forth. "Sit down, Finn," Arthur snapped. 

Finn finally sat down next to me. John looked at Aunt Polly who was staring out of the window. 

"Where the bloody hell is Tommy?"

"He is on his way."

"Alright then, while we're waiting patiently...Whiskey. Left over from the explosion. Good stuff." He put a crate on top of the table. 

He started pouring us all glasses. After the day I've had, I wasn't going to say no. John cleared his throat. 

"Right, before Tommy gets here, I think there are a few things we need to get straight between the rest of us."

"You think?"

"Yes, Anna. I want to know...when did we take a vote on this expansion south?" He waited for an answer. 

Aunt Polly turned around, walking closer to the table. 

"You have anything to say, you wait for Thomas."

"Polly's fucking right," Arthur agreed. 

"I see all the books. Legal and off-track. So stuff you don't see-"

"I see the books too, John-"

"And in the past year, the Shelby Company Limited has been making 150 pounds a day. Right? A fucking day! Sometimes more. So what I wanna know is why are we changing things? Polly, look what's happened already. Haven't even set foot in London yet, they've already blown up our fucking pub."

"Who said anything about Cockneys," Arthur asked. 

"Who else," Esme asked. 

"Do you know who did it," I asked as I turned to look at her. 

"No, she doesn't know who did it," John interjected. 

"I'm told only family is allowed to speak." She looked back down at her book. 

Tommy walked into the room. No one saw him until he spoke. "Everyone is allowed to speak. On your feet, Esme. Let's hear what you have to say." John cleared his throat. He stood up a little straighter as he planted his feet firmly on the ground. 

"I speak for your household. So could-"

"John, this company is a modern enterprise and believes in equal rights for women. On your feet, Esme." Esme looked at John as she put her book aside. 

She slowly stood up. 

"I'm not a blood member of this family. But perhaps indeed because I'm not a member, I could see things in a different light. So I'll get to my point."

"That would be nice."

"Aunt Pol," I whispered as I gently nudged her. 

She shrugged as she lit her cigarette. "As my husband said, Shelby Company Limited has become very successful. But London...I have kin and Shepherd's Bush and Portobello. It's more like wars between armies down there. And the coppers fight side-by-side with them. And there are foreigners of every description. And the use of bombs is the least of it. I have a child. Blessed with the Shelby family's good looks. I want John to see him grow up. I want us to someday live somewhere with fresh air and trees. And keep chickens or something. But London is just smoke and trouble, Thomas. That's all I have to say," She sat back down. 

Arthur stared straight ahead. "That was a lot of words. A lot of words. Wash them down with a nice drink." He handed Tommy a glass of Whiskey. "Thank you, Esme." Tommy finished his drink. 

He lit his cigarette. 

"Firstly the bag in the pub had nothing to do with London, understood? The bang is something I'm dealing with on me own. Secondly, we have nothing to fear from the proposed business expansion as long as we stick together. After the first few weeks, nine-tenths of what we do in London will be legal. The other tenth is in good hands. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"That's right."

"Some of you in this room have expressed your reservations. Fair enough. Any of you who want no part in the future of this company, walk out the door. Right now. Go raise your chickens. For those of you with ambition, the expansion process starts tomorrow." Tommy walked out of the room. 

The next morning, I was invited to go on a holiday with the boys. Arthur and I waited outside of John's house for Tommy to get the car and for John to come outside. I called up to his window. 

"Tommy's here."

"Alright, hold on." Tommy got out and stood next to the car. 

"John," Tommy yelled this time. "I'm coming!" John's voice sounded louder this time. 

Arthur took a swig out of the bottle he was holding. Tommy looked over wondering what it was. "Seven o'clock, twelve, ten if I'm still sober. I got it from the doctor." He handed it to Tommy. "It keeps me nice and calm." Tommy smelled the brown liquid. 

He pointed it at Arthur.

"Same thing they gave us in the trenches, stop us fucking wanking."

"Polly said it's good for me temper. It slows me down. "

"Arthur, there are some things Polly doesn't understand." Tommy turned the bottle over to pour it out. 

"Tommy," I shouted. 

He shook the bottle to get the remaining drops out. "I need you fast, not slow." He tossed the bottle to the side. John finally came out of the house.  "She wouldn't let go of me fucking leg."

"I bet that's not all she wouldn't let go of," Arthur laughed. 

"You know she's against this, Tom. She's got opinions."

"Nothing wrong with opinions, John."

"Get in the fucking car."

"Shut up!" We all climbed in. 

I sat in the back with John as Arthur climbed in front. "Peaky Blinders are going on fucking holiday," Arthur shouted as he stood up. "Sit down, you mad bastard." John pulled him back into the leather seat. We drove until we hit the field. The boys got out to take a pee break. I got out of the car to stretch my legs. 

They were making jokes about raising chickens and living in the countryside. As we walked back to the car, Tommy ripped up a tarp from the very back seat. There was a body in the back.

"Who the hell is that?"

"It's Irish business. I thought it'd be best to deal with it meself."

"I was sitting that close to a random dead guy? I'm not helping." I hopped into the front of the car as they buried him. 

We finished our trip to London by night. We walked into a crowded club. It was full of drunks and druggies. The music hurt my ears. The people dancing around us were giving me a headache. John seemed to like the atmosphere. I did not. 

We found a table in the middle of the room to sit at. They brought out a bottle of booze. "Isn't this Sabini's club," I yelled over the music. Tommy nodded as the waiter put the bottle down. 

"Jesus Christ. Everybody in here is a fucking face."

"Just the lieutenants, John. No sign of the officers." 

"Let's line 'em up," John smirked as he lined up the glasses. 

He started to pour us all a drink. A different waiter walked over to our table. 

"There has been a mistake. I'm afraid you are going to have to leave."

"We just bought a fucking bottle," John shouted.

"A couple of the men know you from the tracks in the north."

"We get that a lot."

"They say you have no business coming south of the line without prior agreement."

"What line would that be, my friend?"

"They say, this is provocation."

"Right, well, you tell them we're on holiday," I smirked as I held up my drink.

I took a drink as did Tommy. "You're breaking the rules. They say you are the Peaky Blinders." A glass was thrown at our table. It shattered everywhere. "Peaky scum," someone shouted. Tommy immediately turned to that person. 

A giant fight broke out. We fought until a gun went off. The waiter was pointing a gun at us. "Get out," was all he said. We had no choice but to make our way outside. "We came here not to make enemies but to make new friends. Those of you who are last will be first. You know where to find us," Tommy announced on our way out. We took the bottle of booze with us. 

We walked back to the car. Arthur reached into his mouth. 

"I think I lost a fucking tooth. At this rate, I won't have any. Some fucking holiday this is."

"Yeah. You lost without your fucking medicine now, Arthur?"

"Here, this'll fix you."

"Give me that." He took the bottle of Whiskey from Tommy. 

Tommy pointed to John as we walked along. 

"You John-boy, eh? How are you? Or should I ask your fucking wife?"

"Give over!"

"No more talk of chicken, you hear me?"

"Fuck the chickens," Arthur slurred as John broke out into a fit of laughter.

Tommy walked a little further ahead of us. "Got 50 quid in my pocket. Let's go paint the town, eh?" That's exactly what we did. We didn't get back home until late morning. We were all exhausted and drunk. It was a miracle that we made it home in one piece. It was the most fun any of us had in a while. 

I sat with Tommy in his office late at night. He sighed as he looked up from his paperwork. 

"Polly is pissed at me."

"Why's that?"

"I poured out Arthur's medicine and this came in an hour ago." He handed me a slip of paper. 

'Let's break bread.' It didn't have a name but it came from Camden Town. I sighed as I put the paper down. "Do we go see Alfie?" He shrugged as he took a drag of his cigarette. After he finished his drink, we made our way out to the garage. We didn't feel like walking home in the rain tonight. 

I flinched at the sudden cold raindrops. Luckily, we didn't have to walk far. I sighed in relief when we made it under. I put my hand on the cold door handle. The back door creaked open. A man with a gun pointed at me stepped out. I held up my hands as I backed up. 

Another man came out, then another. We tried everything to keep them off of us. They just kept coming. Tommy and I were both on the ground in seconds. They were punching and hitting us as if we were trash. I had no idea how many men there were now. I didn't even care at this point. 

I knew one or both of us were going to die. I was drifting in and out of consciousness as I lay on the wet ground. They were still working on Tommy. I wished I was unconscious. I was surprised I already wasn't. The pain was too much. "Get her over here," one of them screamed. 

They pulled me away from Tommy as I screamed. I couldn't move. Fire ripped through my body every time I did. I couldn't fight them anymore. I got a glimpse of Tommy. It was almost too dark in the garage to see. He was lifelessly laying there.

I was barely above the surface as they pulled me up. The last thing I felt before everything went dark were hands on the buttons of my pants. 

[vertebrae-entertainment]

12.07.2023 - Recycling programming

Fangst will be our first commercial release, meaning we're charging money for it and putting it up on stores and all that stuff. But it's not our first game. Since starting a student business at Folkehøgskole (Translating to… county college?) back in 2016 we've worked on: -3 free browser games under Vertebrae -3 edutainment games on commission from Aluminiummuseet in Holmestrand -6 gamejam games each at Global Game Jam Hamar And we've spent 3-4 years working on Liquid State, a previous commercial title that had to be put on hold due to lack of funding.

(screenshot from a presentation we sent to a funding org)

All in all that adds up to 18 and a half games. Roughly speaking. The smallest gamejam games have been opportunities to try new things and experiment with features we haven't touched before, the browser games demanded optimization to make performance good enough to run in browser, the edutainment games tested our ability to work under pressure with hard deadlines, and Liquid State gave us a clearer idea of what works and doesn't work when working on a big long term project. They have also given us a backlog of previous works to pull from when developing new games. Not just in terms of lessons learned and getting used to workflows, but also straight up pulling bits of reusable code here and there.

I'm Åge by the way. This blogpost is mainly written from my point of view as a programmer and is going to be focused on programming. But I asked Hauk and he let me know the following:

Liquid State in particular had a big impact on Fangst's animations. Liquid State used traditional animation for the main character and puppet based animation for enemies, which gave him experience with both forms of animation and a clearer idea of how to make effective individual frames with good poses and how to polish the puppets.

Left: Liquid State. Right: Fangst wip sketch.

As for programming, here are some examples of reused/informed code.

Stepping Stone is a 2D platformer that required somewhat competent collision and input code. It was meant to be a frustrating experience to play through, but the frustration was supposed to be built on the repetitiveness of the gameplay not on things outside of the player's control like clipping through walls or not jumping when you wanted to. I spent much of the game's development tweaking the player controls and collision code, and this got ported into Fangst as the beginning of the main character's movement code before adding some of Liquid State's player physics.

Throughout 2021 I spent some time on an unreleased project with a top down camera titled No Future Towers. I made a twitter thread about my process here. I wanted the buildings to have depth to them so I made a fake 3D effect with 2D parallax but it was kind of a pain to work with. Then I read a blogpost by Matharoo about GameMaker's built in 3D camera features. I ended up using this for the 3D effect in that project, and then reused that effect in Fangst to quickly set up depth without having to program in layer parallax manually.

No Future Towers also had an ocean theme with a soundscape of seagulls and crashing waves and creaking wood. I threw this soundscape together with royalty free sound loops, and then ported the sounds into Fangst for some placeholder atmosphere to test the vibes before getting a sound designer on board.

Liquid State had a pretty dramatic impact on Fangst. One of the reasons we're confident in having combat in a game that has a lot of moving parts already is because we've been able to port a lot. Liquid State was a combat focused beatemup, which required things like hitboxes that can remember who they're allowed to target and who they've already collided with, spawning hitboxes at specific positions in specific frames of an animation, changing the hurtbox of the player on the fly, enemies getting stunned while in knockback, and basic enemy AI. This carries over pretty directly to Fangst, so the lucky few who got to try early demos of Liquid State back in 2017-2019 may recognize some of the overall feel.

Liquid State's camera also makes a return. Most of the pain points in the previous camera blogpost were lessons I learned during Liquid State and I managed to reuse some of the equations for following the player/moving ahead of the player.

Fangst is made with GameMaker Studio 2, now formally known as just GameMaker. I previously worked with GameMaker Studio 1.4 (oh how I miss you, old sprite editor) but when GMS2 came out I knew I had to transition over to the new version eventually despite my stubbornness. GMS2 is a pretty substantial rework of the engine with a lot of changes under the hood and a different workflow, which means a lot of frustration and wasted time in the transition period. We ended up doing the switch to GMS2 when we started working on educational games for Aluminiummuseet, figuring that we'd need to overhaul our workflow anyway. Getting this pain point out of the way early made it a lot easier to continue using GMS2 for later games, and let me build up a backlog of useful GMS2 scripts for major changes like window resizing, the layer system, etc.

The Aluminiummuseet games ran on Android devices and the browser games ran on, well, the web browser. These platforms are much weaker than the average PC and have various quirks of their own, requiring a lot of consideration of how to make sure the game runs as optimally as possible and avoiding platform-specific bugs. This is evident in the games themselves, the latest games run better than the oldest games. I had to look into things like ordering sprites so they're packed on the same texture page, avoiding transparency on backgrounds when viable, and using the debugger to find out where the game loses the most performance. This has informed how I program things going forward.

And finally, Antidote had a big impact on how text is structured in-game. Antidote is a very text-heavy game with a lot of dialogue boxes, and we originally planned on having a Norwegian language option in addition to the existing English language text. This meant that the game's text had to be saved in a way that made it easy to access, because having text hard-coded in and spread out across many different objects would make it a pain to keep track of and would waste everyone's time when it was time to edit/translate it and it would also risk weird edge-cases where it pulls the wrong language's text. So I programmed it in a way where all textboxes pull dialogue from this one big script that holds all the dialogue in one place. This type of text system serves as the base for text in Fangst as well.

These were some examples of wholesome program cannibalization, and I can't wait to see what we end up cannibalizing from Fangst in the future.

We plan on coming back to the office and resuming work next week. Thanks for reading!

Love, Åge

[bitchapalooza]

I wanna ramble about my hc of Larry being a gym leader in Johto for a second so excuse me please--

He was originally sought out by the Johto league while still living in Unova. Grimsley had just taken the spot on the Elite Four so the family was actually back in the news for a while, which means Larry was, too. A lot more trainers were talking about him and their battles against him; mainly in the context of "I just battled Grimsley's brother!" So the Johto league wanted to scout him out to join their gym line up. They had an opening coming up soon. And he's a normal type specialist, exactly what that gym was equipped to handle. And they've heard a lot of positive things about his strength as a trainer and his team at the time. So they tracked him down and offered him the position. He only accepted because of the hourly wage and battle commissions, which is a valid reason to accept a job.

Larry was already familiar with Johto. He'd been there plenty of times growing up because it's where his mom is from, his grandparents lived there when they were still alive, and at this time his uncle was the owner of the old estate. He was not nervous about the move whatsoever. He knew his way around like half the region and he had one trustworthy family member to not feel homesick. I mean he was like 20, he was young at this time, still figuring out life. Anyway, Larry felt comfortable at the start.

For the remainder of the previous gym leader's time until his retirement in less than a month, Larry actually caught and trained several normal type Johto pokemon with him. It was a specific request by the league that he use some pokemon native to this region instead of his Unovan team. Which made sense. It would make the challengers feel less intimidated; afterall Watchdog, Herdier, Audino, and Bouffalant aren't native to Johto! The only exception to this was Staraptor, getting to be used with higher level trainers to give them an extra challenge. It's actually something he asked for personally. His main Johto team for the gym is as follows: Furret, Smeargle, and Dunsparce. Blissey, Granbull, and of course Staraptor were often reserved for those higher level trainers. Sometimes, though, some trainers would specifically ask about his Unovan team wanting to battle them instead. It was pretty rare he would agree to it. He still had to follow the league's rules even though he technically had full reign over the gym and was his own boss, the league more so being a moderator to make sure things were fair and running smoothly.

When he finally got full control of the gym and took on battles, he didn't exactly stand out much. He was like every other gym leader. Besides taking the job to heart that is. He was merely conducting his position as gym leader according to how the league told him to plus as freely as he wanted to to as well. He did his job as efficiently as possible. In trainer surveys about his performance the average answer was always something along these lines "He lacks the energy that the others have, but he was still a challenge so it was still a lot of fun. I'm more than eager to rechallenge him in the future." His title was "A man of silver in a golden city"— which was supposed to be a reference to his lack of enthusiasm while living in such a lively city like as Goldenrod.

He was only the gym leader of Goldenrod for almost exactly six years. He left it all to Whitney, seeing her as ready and strong enough now. He was getting married soon, his soon to be wife wanted to move back to her home region of Paldea as she simply missed it, and he honestly didn't mind the change. He already had a job offer from the Paldean league which he was ready to accept as well as applying to a second job due to the lower wage and half the battle commissions going towards the league. Admittedly, he did enjoy his time in Johto. He grew to care for his new team a lot, while still caring for his other pokemon, too. He accepted the Paldea job pretty easily thanks to his positive experience in Johto.

[dravid-writes]

Continuing my late @heropartnerweek entries, the day 5 prompt "Frosty Forest"!

"Thoooorn!"

Compass the Cyndaquil walks through Frosty Forest, calling their partner's name. Is Thorn really here? Xatu told them to come here, but it's been weeks since they were spotted here, and no one's found any trace of them since then. After all, why would a ground-type hide in such a cold place? Maybe because no one would expect it.

"Thoooorn!"

This is a terrible plan. Why would Thorn just come out, after hiding for this long? Maybe they'd reveal themself to their partner… That is, if Compass were still their partner. Maybe Compass should say something else? But what? They couldn't convince Leader Beacon to call off the hunt, so how could they-

Behind them, snow crunches underfoot. They turn around to see a lone cubone, wrapped in a familiar cloak. "What are you doing here."

Compass recognizes their voice… and their tone. They haven't spoken like that since they first came to Pokemon Square, so afraid and defensive and untrusting that they'd rather eat apples off the ground than accept a hand-made pie. But it's… different somehow. "I… I came to look for you!"

Behind their skull mask, Thorn's eyes narrow. They take a step forward. "What. Are you. Doing. Here." Their voice drips with anger and hatred so deep that even Compass can feel it.

Compass steps back. "I…" They've never seen Thorn like this. Not when they were angry and frustrated with Alakazam or Xatu, not even with Gengar. Suddenly, despite their fire keeping them warm, Compass is shivering. "I-I'm…"

"… You know, I've been sleeping outside, in a snow-covered forest, so afraid for my life that I don't even move unless there's snowfall to cover my tracks." Thorn pulls out their bone club. "So I could really use some exercise to warm me up."

"N-no, I'm not here to fight! I'm here to say I'm sorry!"

There's a long, still silence between them. Only the howling wind makes a sound.

Then, Thorn turns around and walks away.

"W-wait!" Compass follows them. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere else. I've been found, so I need to run."

"No, I don't want you to have to run anymore! I want this to end!"

"You know better than anyone that only ways this can end are either me dying, or the end of the world."

"No, I don't. There HAS to be another way to restore the world's balance! We can find Ninetales and-"

"I already talked to Ninetales." That's how Thorn knows it's all over. That even if they were the human from the legend, not even their death would save the world. Everyone is going to die, and there's no way to stop it.

"… Did Ninetales say there's no other way to stop it?"

Thorn stops walking and looks at Compass in confusion. They're seriously not giving up?

"They didn't, did they! That means there's still hope! We can still figure something out, maybe we can find the legendary bird and-"

"We, we, we, what the hell do you mean 'we'!? There hasn't been a 'we' for THREE WEEKS! And you come out here, find me half-frozen and half-starved, say 'I'm sorry', and suddenly everything is fine!? After what you did to me!?"

"I-I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I wasn't thinking-"

Thorn walks toward them. "You weren't thinking and your first instinct was to betray me!? You ruined my life! You told me I could trust you, so I DID! And you took EVERYTHING FROM ME!!"

Compass walks backward. "I'm sorry, I panicked, I didn't mean to-" They trip and fall backward into the snow.

Thorn stands over them, glaring down. "I TRUSTED YOU!!!… I. Trusted. You. You were my partner. You were my friend. I trusted you so much that I put my life in your hands. And you sold me out. What, in that stupid, naive, wannabe-hero brain of yours, made you think I had even a scrap of trust left for you?"

"… W-well… Um… You came out of hiding to talk with me…"

Thorn just stands, staring down at Compass. For a long while, their mind is blank. "… Do you have any idea how much I've wanted to hurt you? The dreams I've had? The dreams where I hunt you down and KILL you for forcing me to live like this AGAIN-"

A blast of water knocks Thorn away.

"Compass!" Avalanche the Oshawott shouts, rushing over to help them up. "Are you okay?!"

Compass blinks at them in confusion. "What- Where did you come from?"

Torch the Charmander stands between them and Thorn. "Thank goodness we found you. Did you run away just to look for Thorn? Beacon was worried sick!"

"Just sit tight," Avalanche says, "we'll handle Thorn."

"No! Stop!" Compass jumps in front of them, arms spread wide. "I just finished explaining to Thorn that this needs to end!"

"… They were threatening your life ten seconds ago."

"Well I'm no better!"

Everyone, Thorn included, tilts their heads in confusion.

"I did this. I brought all of this on them. If Thorn hadn't run away, they'd be… They'd be dead! They'd die, and I'd have killed them! I NEED to fix this. Please, just let them go, I'll find another way I swear!"

Torch sighs. "Compass, you already asked, and Beacon's already tried. No one wants to do this, but the disasters are getting worse, and this is our only option. Besides, don't you remember the legend? How Thorn abandoned their old partner? You don't really know them-"

"I don't care! I know them enough! Maybe they were bad in the past, but they've grown! They want to help people, and they've been kind and patient. They were… They're my partner! It doesn't matter what they did in the past, they don't deserve to die!"

"Compass… Ava, get escape orb ready, we're heading back."

Compass sighs in relief-

"You mean with Compass, right?"

"Yeah, of course," Torch says, grabbing Compass by the hand.

"Wha- No!" Compass yanks their arm away, and Torch grabs it again with both hands.

"Compass, come on, Beacon's been searching for you 24/7!"

"No! Stop, let go! I'm not abandoning Thorn again!"

"They don't even WANT-"

"Let GO of them!" Thorn shouts, moments before their foot smashes into Torch's stomach. As everyone stares in shock, Thorn glares at Torch. "Compass doesn't like being touched."

Avalanche runs toward Thorn to attack, but Compass steps in front of them and taps their escape orb before shoving them backward onto Torch. The orb glows, and Compass says a quick "Sorry" as the pair teleport back to town.

Then, the forest is once more silent.

"… So um, Thorn, about those dreams-"

"Nightmares, more like. Where my anger takes over, and I lose control, hunting you down. You call for help, scream for mercy, and I…" Thorn trails off, tightening their cloak around themself. The cloak that they bought as a gift for Compass. That they kept close all this time. "I hate you, for what you did to me… But not enough for that. I don't want that."

"Oh… I was going to say, I… have dreams like that too. Dreams where I try to help, try to do the right thing, but… I always end up killing you… I understand if you-"

"Articuno is this way," Thorn says, walking away.

Compass stares at them in disbelief.

"Yeah, turns out they live here in this forest. Let's hurry up, I'd prefer to get out of here asap so we can move on to Moltres in that fire mountain on the way here." Thorn continues walking, then stops and sighs when they realize Compass isn't following. "What? Are you just gonna stand there and wait for the apocalypse?"

"Uh, r-right! I mean, no! Let's go!"

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (24)

Kagome takes in the hopeful expression painted on Satoru's face. The way his blue eyes peek over the rim of his glasses, to the way his body shifts tension from one side to the other. The black shirt in her hands weighs next to nothing, but at the moment, it may as well be a pile of bricks.

She wants to say yes. But then her mind reminds her of how she promised to always remain at InuYasha's side, and well, she clearly isn't with him now. For all she knows, she could get sent back at any moment. And could she really throw away the chance of seeing her family and friends again? Kagome averts her eyes, stares at an imaginary speck of dust on the floor.

"I'm scared that I won't be able to keep such a promise." She looks back at him, clutches the shirt to her chest. "What if I get sent back? I might not have a choice." What she needs is for him to understand. The last thing she wants to do is break his heart if the jewel or the well sends her back to her world. A wave of power thrums in her chest, sending vibrations of warmth throughout.

Was the Shikon trying to tell her something?

"I'm not hearing a no," Satoru says, plucking the shirt from her and tossing it onto the bed. He grabs her hand and places it on his chest, where his heart beats. "Besides, you can't say no after accepting my ring."

"You said that it wasn't a proposal," she says, her voice shaky. She wonders how he could find diamonds that matched the exact shade of his eyes; it couldn't have been a spur-of-the-moment transaction.

"It isn't. A promise of my intent."

She bites her bottom lip, flexes her free hand, and takes in the firm, but gentle hold he has over her. "But what if I don't have a choice?" Kagome needs him to understand that if they go down this route, that they could set themselves up for heartbreak. Another pulse of energy resonates in her veins. Who is she kidding? She's already too deep into it.

"Since when do we allow fear to control us?"

His phone goes off. The noise of the vibrations against the wooden nightstand cuts through the room.

Kagome tilts her head and smiles. "What's the point of asking my opinion if you've already decided what the outcome will be?"

"I read an article that a lack of communication is killer to a relationship."

"I mean the article isn't wrong. Have you never been in a serious relationship?"

"Nah," he responds, looking over at his phone. "It's probably Ijichi. We've gotten nothing packed." He sighs, letting go of her hand to answer his phone.

She thinks about how freely he gives his affection and the way he pulls her close when he gets back from a long day of teaching and exorcising curses. He's never pushed her to be something that she isn't, nor has he ever made her feel like she's less than, despite his egotistical proclamations of being the strongest. It's easy—too easy in how they've fallen into this relationship. She can't recall any arguments that have left her storming out of the apartment.

It hits her so suddenly that she staggers back. Since when does she allow fear to stop her from going after what she wants? The Shikon sends another warming wave of power throughout her body. Satoru ends his call and looks over at her, crossing his arms.

"What's with all the fluctuations?"

"I'll stay," she responds, ignoring his question. How is she supposed to explain something she doesn't understand herself?

He meets her halfway and lifts her up. Her legs wrap around him as he backs them towards a wall. Kagome holds back a wince as her legs are still sore from earlier. "Seriously," she half groans out at the feel of him hardening underneath her.

"We've got about 20 minutes until Ijichi gets here." He peppers kisses along the corners of her mouth.

"You're trying to kill me," she says. Kagome thinks back to his reasoning for not taking her with him, and while she won't ever admit to him, she has to agree that at this rate, nothing will ever get accomplished. Satoru kisses her deeply in response.

She apologizes to Ijichi-san for both of them.

"Yuji-kun, you're back!" Kagome greets while mixing the cookie dough ingredients together. "What's wrong?" She stops mixing and takes in the beat-down appearance that marks his face and posture.

"The curses today," he starts, voice cracking, "they were humans." His body trembles. "I killed someone."

Kagome frowns and sets the bowl on the counter. She dusts her hands on the pink frilly apron and pulls Yuji in for a hug. This time she is prepared for Sukuna's prodding, so she pushes down her initial reaction to purify the king of curses, and instead takes in the brute force of Yuji's despair. "You set them free." She runs a hand through his pink hair. His body sags against hers. "If they looked like curses, then I'm willing to bet that their souls were crying out for relief. You gave them that salvation."

"I just—I want to protect people."

"I know, I know. It's alright." She pulls back and palms the sides of his face. "I'm making chocolate chip cookies. We'll actually get to eat some since Satoru isn't here to steal all of them."

"Do you think Gojo-sensei has ever killed anyone?"

"Probably," she says, "but I can't say for certain. I've never asked him." Though in her gut, she is positive that Satoru has. "I mean, there are probably other curse users out there. I doubt that all of them turn into curses."

"Sensei isn't a bad person because of it," Yuji says, standing up to his full height. "Kagome-san, have you ever…"

"Only demons, but still. A life is a life, regardless of how different our chemical makeups may be."

"You sympathize with demons? Aren't they inherently evil like curses?"

"Curses are born from the negative emotions of people, right?" She scoops out some of the dough. "Demons have families just like us. Their lifespan and the things that they can accomplish exceeds what we can do. Not all want to cause chaos and destroy humanity in the way that curses are hyper-focused on attacking humans." She rolls the dough into small balls and places them on the pan. "Curses are like predators. They see humans—their prey, and attack because it's instinctive. Demons and humans are more like hunters. We assess the situation before making a move. Some humans kill for the heck of it and some demons are content with living their lives." Kagome opens the oven and puts the cookies in to bake. She grabs her phone off the counter and sets a timer.

"Thanks, Kagome-san," Yuji says, smiling. "I'm going to take a shower before dinner." He walks out of the kitchen, leaving Kagome with her thoughts.

The next morning, Yuji appears more at peace as he leaves with Ijichi-san. Something along the lines of finding a potential curse user from the Satozakura High School. Kagome hands Yuji a bento and instructs him to call her if anything comes up. It's not that she doesn't trust Ijichi-san. The man is nothing but dependable, but utterly useless if a fight breaks out.

She hums as she gathers the laptop and the bookbag full of notes that Satoru left for her. She arranges the papers on the coffee table and gets comfortable on the couch. It isn't a lot, but she was able to convince Satoru to let her help him out as an unofficial assistant. Her phone rings right as she opens up the laptop.

"Hello," she answers.

"What are you wearing?" Satoru asks. There's a loud boom on the other end of the phone. A scream follows shortly after.

"Are you exorcising a curse right now?"

"Just ignore that. You wearing that green skirt I like?"

Kagome glances down at her jeans. "No, I'm wearing jeans. You should be focusing," she lectures. Would it hurt him to be a little more careful?

"Eh, these things are weak. I don't know why I had to be the one to travel all this way."

"Yuji-kun killed a human that was turned into a curse yesterday. He was pretty upset about it." She puts him on speaker and reaches for one of the papers on the coffee table. "If you're able to, I think we should do something with him when you get back."

"Like a mini-vacay?"

"We could," she replies, frowning at the commotion on his end. "Why don't you call me back when you aren't busy?"

"I'm free right now," he says. "Just ignore the screams. I have everything under control."

Kagome closes her eyes. "I thought of something you could bring back. Condoms."

"What was that? Oh, one of them is trying to get away."

She shakes her head when the line goes dead. At least she got him off the phone. And besides, jokes on him because she picked some up yesterday after discovering that she needed a prescription to pick up Plan B.

It only takes a few… okay, it takes her all the way into the evening to decipher the notes and hand-drawn pictures to piece together a report. Kagome rubs her eyes. Too much staring at the screen is finally taking a toll. Huh. Yuji-kun should have come home by now, she thinks. The clock at the bottom of the screen reads 19:00. Maybe she should send him a text just to make sure that everything is okay.

Yuji: I'm joining Junpei and his mom for dinner! I hope that's okay.

Kagome: Of course, that's okay. Text me if you need anything.

She sets the phone back down and closes the laptop. It's kind of cute how he checks in with her.

Kagome doesn't pay any attention when Yuji leaves out the next day, though she blinks back the hurt when he rushes out the door without his lunch for the day. What she does pay attention to is the panic in Ijichi-san's voice when he calls her about Yuji taking off after this Junpei person.

She follows the sound of Yuji screaming at Sukuna to help and the laughter that follows the pleas. There's a man—no, a curse, with blue hair. And a monster that Yuji is hugging tightly. Kagome grips the bow. "Yuji-kun," she calls out, walking forward.

"K-Kagome-san, please help him."

She falters. Was this thing a human? It must show on her face because Yuji asks her again. Kagome swallows and reaches a hand out, touching its back. She feels the piercing gaze of Sukuna and the curse man watching her move. Please work, she prays, as the familiar feeling of her purification shoots forth, spreading through the monster's body.

"Well, isn't this interesting," the curse quips.

The monster shakes as the blue melts away and all is left is a husk of a young man. Yuji's eyes widen as he calls out, "Junpei."

"Thank you, Yuji," Junpei says, slumping down.

Kagome grits her teeth at the scene and turns to look at the curse. His patchwork face etches itself into her memory. "You did this?"

"You reversed my transfiguration, though I guess his body was too weak." He blurs out and appears in front of her, grabbing ahold of her and jumping back. "Now, now. Yuji. You wouldn't want the same fate to fall upon this woman."

"Let Kagome-san go," Yuji growls out, his fist-shaking.

This is bad, she thinks. Her purification rises just as his hand reaches into her soul. The Shikon pulses, reacting to the foreign cursed energy. Her vision blurs as the jewel darkens. Her heart pounds, pushing all of her blood flow to her eardrums. This is bad. She doesn't even want to think about the ramifications of what could happen if he continues to taint the Shikon.

"What is this," he murmurs, digging further into her.

"Kagome-san! Fight!" Yuji calls out.

Fight. Right, she promised she wouldn't hesitate. She latches on to that thought and forces the negative energy outward. Sweat drips down her brow as she struggles to contain it to just the curse. The worst thing would be Yuji-kun getting caught up in the blast. It hurts, her body aches, desperately wanting to let her purification run rampant, but she forces it to stay contained. His scream is the last thing she hears before everything goes dark, and she falls down. Kagome winces. Fuck, everything hurts. She struggles to raise herself up, just barely making out Yuji rushing forward. Distantly, she hears glass breaking.

"He could touch the Shikon," she says to herself as she grips her chest. She stands, grabbing her bow on her way and staggers out, once again following the familiar sounds of battle. Rest will have to wait.

She has to put an end to that curse now.

[risu5waffles]

devvy dev diary stuffs #suck eggs

It just occurred to me that the use of the number (or pound) sign to mean hashtag means explicitly numbering things non-numerically just reads as unfunny tagging, as opposed to unfunny joking. Well, whatever. Fuck it.

Since we've been mucking about wiv cutscenes on stream for the past however many months, it started feeling silly not posting how they're coming along. i suppose if people decide not to play the level because they've seen it all in the drawing board videos, well, that's what happens? i don't much expect to get a lot of people playing, let alone all the way to the end anyway. i've seen the statistics on other stuff i've done. Even simple levels, people bounce before the end. Even levels that let you go direct to the scoreboard. So, meh, fine.

This is the bit that caused the level to go Total Kittiwumpus and need to be broken into two parts even tho' the original version was already a dThermo level. i guess it's like chronos said, even tho' everything isn't in the level "physically" all at once wiv dThermo, it's still in the level somehow from a mechanical/programming standpoint. Even tho' there's not really much in this section on its, having it on top of the other cutscene bit (in the sense that all the components were in one place, now we've got the cutscene split into three separate parts, and i'm going to need to figure out preloaders and the like so they'll look like a seemless whole when it plays out) created blackhole-density in the level that made everything implode and go bye-bye.

This isn't even what i had originally storyboarded, but there is a point where it's all just a bit too much, and clearly we passed that a few miles ago already.

i wasn't going to spend this morning recording. i'd only gone on the ps4 to grab the cutscene video, and then i was going to get ready for my day, maybe have some breakfast. Then i thought: well, i could just grab a level or two while i'm here. Won't take but a couple minutes, just to pad out the backlog some more. Then i hit this fucking thing.

It's not just that the level, itself, is a sprawling chonkster wiv poor player communication, it was... this. Whatever this is. It's the burning ground in front that really fucks the chicken here. If you could just scoot out and engage the paintinator, it would be so much easier to deal wiv. If the creator didn't want the player to be able to hop back into safety when the danmaku got a bit rough, he could have just raised the door once you were out. But no. They decided they had to get clever wiv it. It took me so long just to figure out you're supposed to exit via that slope on the left, because why? And wiv the player sensor being so seemingly tight, you've really got to scoot perfect to get out, or the door closes enough that you'll get bounced into the fire and die and have to do the whole danged thing over. And the shame (aside from the fact that after this point the level is, in fact, fucking broken) is that it's actually a pretty cool danmaku bit. Like, it's really tight, and you've got to be pretty on your game to slip through the cracks, but it's also clearly parse-able. It's not so many bullets in the air that it just winds up looking like random soup. You can read the pattern, and that's pretty neat. Just a shame you can't, you know, get at it half the time because that door bit is just so goddamned awkard.

[peppermintquartz]

Eames finds himself extraordinarily nervous at the prospect of diving into Hannibal Lecter's mind.

He wasn't kidding when he told Arthur to stay out of it. The first time they were there and he took on the guise of Will Graham, Lecter recognized the wrongness of the dream too quickly for someone who isn't trained in the field. Add to that fact is Lecter's former profession as a psychiatrist and a surgeon, both requiring deep focus and understanding of people. Lecter doesn't only know how to fix people's minds and bodies, he knows how to break them too, if the notes they have on him are accurate.

They're now in sunny Miami, the Florida heat pressing down on them like a thick, damp quilt. Arthur, bless him, is still in his shirt and vest, but at least he's shed his jacket and put on his shades (Armani, very understated gunmetal silver frames with dark gray lenses). Meanwhile Eames has pulled on an obnoxiously loud shirt, bright green with pink flamingos holding piña coladas, over his white tank top. Arthur tells him to sit in the back seat and stay there with the PASIV. Eames tries his best Midwestern accent and Arthur stifles a chuckle, which means it's perfectly terrible.

Anyone observing them (there are two agents in a different vehicle which neither Eames nor Arthur acknowledge) will see a criminal of some standing with his underling or bodyguard pretending to be a harmless tourist with a hired driver. They make their way to Coconut Grove, Google Maps guiding them to the address of one Dr Frederick Chilton.

The person who opens the door eyes Eames suspiciously until he greets her in Spanish, and then they have a quick conversation while Arthur waits for the agents following them clears the house.

"Ignatia is Chilton's caregiver; his bodyguards are David and Phil - ¿Quién es ese de allí? - that's David. Gracias, señorita, muchas gracias." Eames takes off his ugly shirt and pulls on a paisley shirt that is, thankfully, less neon. "Chilton's expecting us but he tires quickly, and we must not shake hands with him as he's still recovering from skin graft surgery."

They've read up on his condition on the flight over so both men hide their shock well upon seeing Chilton in person. The man is a patchwork of skin tones, from head to presumably toes, and it is a testament to his will to live that keeps him still breathing.

"I hear," says Chilton once introductions are made, "that you. Have caught. Just half of. The Murder Husbands." He breathes hard, his face twitching with the effort, and goes on. "Will Graham. Will try to break him. Out."

"We know that is a risk, which is why we're trying to catch him first. Is there anything you can tell us about them?" Arthur asks. He keeps his eyes on Chilton's face, as if he's not so mutilated that the mere sight of him will give a child enough trauma for a lifetime.

Eames is trying to commit the garbled manner of speech to memory; the skin grafts will be hard to forge, especially since he'll have to make sure they don't shift about in a dream. It's easier to look at the wretched man by thinking of him as a challenge than as a victim.

Chilton makes a wet, gurgling sound; Ignatia pats him gently on the back. It's laughter, Eames realizes.

"This. Is all fun. And games. To them." Chilton inhales sharply again. "He's already. Watching you. Becoming you. And he'll know. Know you. Better than. Anyone else. Even yourself." Chilton gasps; they all pretend not to hear the rattling wheeze as he fights to keep breathing.

Finally Chilton relaxes. "Those bastards. Have their own plans. Will Graham will find. A way. To push you. Or. The one you care. Most about. To the wolves." What's left of his mouth chatters and twitches. "All to see. What you would do. And then. He'll use that. To break you."

"Will Graham is deeply empathetic."

"Doesn't. Make him. A good man." Chilton's left hand flops up to point at himself. See? See?

Eames thanks Chilton for his time and leads Arthur out with a hand at his elbow. They will need to find a secure location to discuss matters. However, as Eames leaves Chilton's place, he feels as though unfriendly eyes are on him, all the way to the car, all the way driving back to Midtown, all the way to the hotel room where it's clear it's just him and Arthur.

What will Will Graham do?

[live-digital-love]

♡ Mitsuyame / Higatano | Manhunt

♡ Eventual fluff.

♡ Playful bickering.

♡ Ayame agrees to a certain deal after Mitch makes it sound appealing; only, it results in... "a happy accident."

♡

Game day. Game day, game day, game day.

The day that the classes all get together and compete against one another in a sort of school-wide competition. Like... when you're a kid in school and it's field day. Only for this, the school is considered fair playing ground, and from what she's heard, everything is on the table.

The last game was something called... 'Manhunt.' It was like tag, but more than just running. It starts with one hunter, and everyone else playing the game is a target. When you get tagged, you become a hunter, and have to hunt down everyone else. Night had already fallen, so the game is to be played in the dark. One of many dangerous factors that made it all the more exciting in theory. Someone even announced over the PA system when a player was tagged.

The only important rule was: Don't get tagged. Which, while it was very, very easy, made the game not... that fun when she wasn't a hunter.

No one tried going near her after long enough. They either didn't want to try or didn't want her to let them tag her out of pity.

⠀

Now, Ayame crouched in the dark, listening to everything move around her. About half of her classmates were still free, if she's been keeping count right. It wasn't long until a new announcement was made.

'Mitsuhiro Higa has been tagged!'

Not ten minutes after that, she finally heard something to her right. Her head snapped towards the sound, and as it turned out, it was another player. Specifically, it was Mitsuhiro.

Ayame sprung up, quickly moving to keep about twenty-five feet between them, at least. He's fast. If he tried to spring at her, she needed space to move.

⠀

Her opponent froze at this, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Whoah, slow down. No need to get spooked. I'm only here to make an offer, not tag you. Pinky promise."

"Make an offer? We're playing a game right now. Why do you want to make an offer to me?"

"'Cause I get the feeling we both know this game's a bit unfair. I mean... come on. No offense to our classmates, but they've got two of the fastest athletes in the world playing for themselves. The orange-haired chick knew we'd both demolish anyone else, tha's why she's not playing. Prob'ly other nerdy bullshit too.

But point is: if you hadn't heard..."

Mitch trailed off, lazily pointing one arm up at the PA system hanging in the corner of the room.

"I let myself get tagged already."

Ayame blinked a few times at the television. What... is his point, exactly? Just pointing out they're on opposite teams? "Right. So now you want to tag me because I'm still free."

"Not it, princess. If I did wanna tag you, I woulda got you already. My offer is: You pretending I tagged you."

Her gaze trailed back to him, blinking even slower this time. This is making less and less sense the more he speaks. "Why would I do that?"

⠀

A strained chuckle escaped Mitsuhiro. His hands came up to rub his face, as if the whole conversation was exhausting him. He mumbled something into his hands... (it sounded like: "goddamn, girl, for the fastest person here, your brain sure as hell isn't..." but she wasn't entirely sure,) before peeking through his fingers.

"Two of the fastest athletes in the entire school, remember? If people think you got tagged, they're gonna shit themselves when they see both of us coming. If I don't tag you, once I get everyone else, it'll just be us left. Then you win."

"Well... don't you want to win?"

"Can't a guy just wanna help a girl out sometimes?"

She paused to consider his question, then shook her head no.

"... Damn. Well, this guy does. All I want is a nice, clean competition between me n' you. And I can't have that if there's other people out and about. You herd people to me, I tag 'em, we go until 's only us left, and we have a race across the school to see who's actually the best.

Let's be honest:

You've got the speed, but I've got the endurance. We both know I can catch you. I just wanna prove it to the whole class."

⠀

She frowned slightly. Her classmates have said he's a jerk in the past, but... maybe he could be telling the truth? Maybe? Possibly? Well. With his reputation, probably not.

"... You want to chase me to prove that you think you can keep up with me, just to boost your own ego. When, no, there's no way that you can actually catch me."

"Don't go and hurt my pride like that, fuck! Look--- I'm not only in it for my ego. I win, I get bragging rights; you win, you win the manhunt game and I'll take you out to dinner or something, okay?"

He very clearly forced a smile as he held out a hand. It wasn't even kinda hidden.

"Shake on the deal?"

⠀

Ayame considered it. Considered it more. It might not be bad. It might even be fun, to race someone that poses a competition to her again. She hasn't had that in a long time. And she might win something that isn't a race, if she can outrun him. Winning a class game and actually trying for it sounds really cool.

And he doesn't seem... too bad to work with. Right now.

Having made up her mind, Ayame nodded. She initially moved to take his hand, then--- brought it back quickly. "Wait. If you touch me, I'll be tagged, right?"

A sly, sly smirk lit up his features. He licked his teeth through his smile in satisfaction. "Heh, you got me. It was worth a shot."

"The gesture stands. We have a deal, Mitsuhiro."

Her now-ally suddenly cringed, his whole body dramatically turning away. "It's Mitch, okay? Cut it, you sound like my mom when you talk like that."

"I'm... sorry? I didn't know. But, okay. We have a deal, Mitch."

Mitch went to say something likely snarky, then sighed. "Yeah, whatever, I get it. C'mon, let's go give our classmates heart attacks."

"Only pretend heart attacks?"

"Sure. We'll see."

♡

She had to admit: that was fun.

Just as Mitch said, everyone who wasn't tagged yet panicked and took off running once they both came into view. She darted out ahead of them to make them slow down, and Mitch came up from behind and tagged them all. Ayame made sure to dart away once they were, and somehow, no one seemed to notice that her name hadn't gone over the speaker yet.

They rounded up everyone in their class this way, working together surprisingly well. Mitch naturally took on a more defensive position, allowing Ayame to guide the other players as she pleased, and waited for the right moment to spring to life and close the distance. She couldn't deny that he was fast. Really fast. The longer she watched him play, though, the more clear his weakness was: his endurance was high, but his stamina was shockingly low.

His strategy seemed to be blitzing at near max speed only for a few seconds, then falling back down to something much more comfortable to keep up the chase rather than maintaining a steady pace. Even then, he kept going for a long time before needing to fully stop.

He might be able to outlast her if he's calculated enough. As long as she can keep distance, he'll keep falling behind. When he made the bet, Mitch had to have been banking on her tiring herself out and him closing the distance after long enough.

⠀

Thus, when they got to the track and prepared for the final race:

"I have a timer I keep on my side for things like this. I'll give you thirty seconds to catch me."

Her again-opponent scoffed. When she turned to look back at him, she caught his eyes darting up to hers. Huh. Weird. "Only thirty? Why's that?"

"That's after I've hit my breaking point and have to slow down to keep going. If you really want to show off that you can catch me at my top speed, there's no point in giving you more time after I've slowed down. It might be after the point where you start slowing down, too, but I'd have to watch your form longer to know for sure."

He stared at her blankly. Then, raised his hands in mock defense once again and smiled. "Note to self: only question the runner about anything regarding running if you want her to ramble about it. Got it."

She huffed out a frown. "You asked me a question and I answered it."

"C'mon, don't take that the wrong way, it was cute. That's the most I've heard you say all day, princess. 's just that the only way it would've been more nerdy is if you started explainin' the sciency parts of it all."

"... Do you mean basic biology?"

Ayame rolled her eyes, setting the timer and leaning down over the track. "You can stop calling me that, for one."

"Whatever you say, princess."

She watched him do the same out of the corner of her eye. She could hear another grin light up his features. "What, getting tired of that one? How about Momma instead, since you talk so much like one?"

He kept going, amusing himself over more and more pet names, while she counted quietly. It isn't cheating. If he wasn't talking, he would have heard it. Really. And because he was, he wasn't ready when she finally started the timer and yelled: "Go!"

She heard Mitch take off late, sputtering over himself as he darted forward. "Hey! You know that ain't fair, Momma!"

"You should've been paying attention, uh- Dad-da! Nope, that's weird."

"Add a Y, and then it'll work that way, princess!"

⠀

That just sounds stupid. Whatever. She tried and failed to come up with a comeback to that, so all of her attention went to staying on the track. And just as she anticipated, Mitch fell into the same pattern he took on earlier: only now, fit with playful teasing. He let her put distance between them, then blitzed closer, then fell back.

He's keeping with her somehow. There's no way he can be keeping pace without pushing himself too hard. This was fun when he suggested it, but she doesn't want him to hurt himself. But she also doesn't want to lose.

Think, think, think... what to do to keep her lead without going so fast that he'll hurt himself to keep up?

He's not used to the track, but it seems to be helping him well enough despite this. From how short his bursts are, he was going faster earlier, though. Why? It's just a difference in...

Turf. He was faster going through turf, because he's wearing cleats!

If he won't slow himself down, maybe she can make him.

⠀

With that thought in mind, Ayame slowed and then suddenly darted towards the school building, avoiding any grass like the plague. Mitch picked up the pace. Thankfully, shortly after Ayame burst into the building, her theory was proven... half right:

Mitch cried out a second after she hit the tile, cursing as his feet slid out from under him. Somehow, though, he still kept up. If anything, she heard him fall into a steady sprint over his short bursts.

Final option: up the stairs, into a classroom.

The sound of metal spiked cleats scraping tile is a horrible one. Someone lost his footing again at the stairwell. But he was on her, still, despite all of this, and got way too close for comfort as she slowed even more to save energy and sling into a classroom.

He's not slowing down, at all.

Is he crazy? Does he not know what he's doing to himself!?

As a last ditch effort, Ayame vaulted over desks to put something between her and her pursuer; finally sending herself over the teacher's podium, pulling it down over her as she fell to the ground behind it.

⠀

He slammed into the wall above her so hard, he shook the whole room. Not even half a second after she hit the floor. One second passed after that, and a piercing beeping rang out.

The timer, still clipped to her shorts.

Mitch had already started leaning down, but froze the second the timer rang. He straightened back up, forcing out a wheezing chuckle. His words floated through huffs, and it sounded like a lot of effort went into pushing them out clearly. "You... you're a cheater... huh, princess? Going... in the school..."

She chuckled herself, shaking her head. It was a good workout. She actually broke a sweat. But she can't deny that she's worried. "You never said I couldn't. You okay after that? I didn't think your body could handle staying that close."

His breath turned harsh, then words fell into incoherent mumbling. He was definitely trying to say something. That isn't good.

"Mitch?"

Muttering.

"Mitsuhiro?"

Nothing.

Oh no.

She stuck her head out from under her 'distraction,' looking up to fully see Mitch, still standing over her, but barely.

He was already drenched and dripping in sweat, his entire body heaving with each heavy pant. He's shaking... He's trembling just to hold himself up over her.

Ayame slid out from under the podium, about to tell her 'rival' that he's pushed himself too far, but he did it for her. A shudder ran down his whole body, and with one last gasp; his eyes lulled, and his head followed, and his knees buckled. His body hit the floor with a horrible thud once it finally gave out.

⠀

All of the exhaustion drained away as she rose, quickly going to the collapsed man's side. A moment's panic. Not knowing what else to do, Ayame took Mitch into her arms the best she could and initially tried to pick him up. It turns out that a roughly sixty-six kilogram guy feels much, much heavier when he's unconscious. She resorted to dragging him down the hall instead.

"I should've known he'd be that petty. Why did I agree to this? I don't know what yet, but I'm gonna do something if he wakes up and tries to have a rematch..."

It didn't take long for someone to find them and help her take Mister I-Cant-Regulate-Myself-Healthily to the nurse's office. There she sat by his side, for the next hour, as conflicting feelings welled within her.

On one hand, she shouldn't have even agreed to a race if she knew he'd do this to win.

On the other, it was the most fun she's had in a long time.

On one hand, she has to help keep her fellow classmates safe, even if they're temporary competitors.

On the other, it isn't really her fault that he didn't know his limits, right? She tried to slow him down.

⠀

Thoughts like these whirled through her mind until... he finally stirred. A soft hiss escaped as he tried to move his legs, which made him try to peek at his surroundings, which made him groan in even more pain. He did hit the ground very, very hard. And likely tore muscle, if not irritating it beyond belief. There was a long pause before he opened his eyes again, slowly looking around the room he's in now.

That same smirk as before still tugged at his eyes as he took her in, taking the time to process every last bit of her and him and where they are annoyingly slow.

It made her grow anxious. "What is it? Do you need something?"

The words had a clear slur to them, some blending together and coming out slowly. "Not much. Jus' a few more seconds."

"... Of what?"

"Of the angel 'm lookin' at, beautiful. Can't believe you waited for a dumbass like me."

Ayame straightened up at this, growing rigid at the shift in words and tone. This was... sweet, compared to the teasing things he said earlier. Mitsuhiro, saying something sweet? He really does have a concussion.

She scoffed softly. "You need to go back to sleep. You're clearly still delirious."

"Huh? Whaddaya... mean? Do I look funny?"

"The Mitch I've heard wouldn't say stuff like that unless he's impaired, like right now."

He groaned, yet now, not in pain. "Really? Aww, that guy's an asshole. Look: I've gotten hit in the head so, so many times. Way too much. I know what 'm saying well enough, beautiful."

He grinned widely, now. "I know I mean it. I jus' can't think enough for the asshole guy to change what I wanna say. That's the difference. I know it so much, I wanna make another deal."

⠀

Her eyes only narrowed. Surely he can't be serious.

Yet, he... was, now straining to piece together the words he supposedly really wanted to say. "No, don't do that. Please? I know this is... way outta left field, but I wanna try while I've got you here. My deal was to take you out to dinner. Give me one night, and if it doesn't work out, I'll go away. Gone, for good. No more asshole. We got a deal?"

... Huh. Odd. She thought, and thought, and eventually reasoned that maybe giving this... 'not an asshole' Mitsuhiro a chance might be worth it. After all, if it led to another concussion, it might not be so bad. Because he's nicer. Not because she wants him to get brain damage. That would be horrible.

Either way, she crossed her arms neatly under her chest and sat back in her seat.

She's smiling. But she better not regret this.

"Okay. We have a deal, Mitch."