#and i like his style of basically telling you how an operator works then going 'yeah they aren't optimal at all but they're really cool'

[adorablegorilla]

The best Arknights YouTuber is Eha because he straight up gives Yuri Fanfic recommendations in the middle of his video

[brucewaynehater101]

Just a warning, this au strays a bit close to NSFW territory in that it does talk about Sex Workers, but it does not mention or describe anything specific, mostly just discussing how they operate and some dangers they may face working in Gothem.

So, we all know that Tim would do a lot for the mission right? More than most people would. I mean, just look at Brucequest or the fact he came back after his 16th birthday or his first few months as Robin when he was basically Bruce's nanny. He also has many false life's he can slip into at the drop of a hat such as Alvin Draper or Caroline Hill. So why not add one more to those personas? A woman named Jane Doe, a sex worker who works just outside Crime Alley who everyone knows and knows everyone, but no one truly knows her nor have they ever seen her face, if she even is a woman as she uses all pronouns to get just a little more mystery added to them. Their outfit is constantly changing but also very specific, a short and highly attractive dress that doesn't look cheap and a full face mask in the style of Venetian Carnival Masks, Volto design specifically so that it covers his full face but shows striking blue eyes. Those he has colored contacts that he switches around constantly.

The reason that Tim does this is simple. Information. While Jason may be able to ask the sex workers under his protection questions, they wouldn't be as open with him as they would another sex worker. Tim can get information from them, the clients, the shop owners of the area, the homeless, anyone and everyone who is often on the street or connected to it that none of the other Bats would ever be able to get. And through his... services he gets a lot of information about up coming things thanks to a special discount everyone knows about. If you tell Jane a secret they don't already know, you get 10% off his services. Tell him 2 and you get 20%. So on and so forth, but it has to be things that Tim didn't already know and he's more than happy to hear about which rouges are hiring at the moment and when they stop hiring, after all, what easier way to predict when they are gunna do stuff than by when they get new henchmen?

A lot is known about Jane Doe, yet also nothing is known. Jane doesn't keep any of the money he makes, giving it to the other girls and often extra as well. No one knows where she keeps getting 100s of dollars to just *give* them but she does. Jane has three brothers, a sister, and a father but no mother. They don't know their names, simply knowing them as N, H, C, R, and B. Whoever they are, they're a well off family but they aren't good to Jane, bad enough that Jane feels safer on the corners of Gothem than the comfort of her home. They know from "funny" stories he tells about his family or via them asking about scars he forgets misses when he covers himself in makeup (there are so many, what have they done to you child?) And him always telling something close to the truth.

They know that N is his oldest brother and the only one who cared about him for a long time, who helped him and was the first person who ever made him feel truly happy. They also know that N took something very precious from Jane Doe without Jane's permission and shattered their trust in N. Tim never told them what was taken or that it was Robin, but in a profession like the one he shares with them, they all come to the same conclusion about what was taken and why Jane might seek comfort in this line of work.

They know that H is also his older brother and has hurt Jane often. They know that the slight scar on his neck he covers with a choker or makeup was made by H, as was the bullet scar in his leg. He laughed about that one, telling his friends how H had set down one of his guns after cleaning it, R picked it up and accidentally fired it, and it bounced twice before going clean through Tim's leg. He laughs about how mad H was at both of them and how he yelled at them to not tell B or else, using a mocking tone and laughter that only causes the others to glance at eachother in worry over their friend. Tim makes sure to reassure them that he got to the blood before it dried so it wasn't to hard to clean up. Tim may have read it as anger in Jason's voice when he said to not tell, but actually it was panic and worry about Tim's wound and how Bruce would react.

They don't know much about C, only that she managed to escape the hell hole known as Gothem and lives in another country. Sometimes she comes back for visits and Jane is always very excited when she does.

The other Sex Workers don't like R. They know that R has either threatened Jane with sharp objects or actually harmed her with them many times but has never gotten in trouble for it. Any time Tim has some left over injuries from patrol, he plays it off as either R or H getting agressive with him again and tries to calm them by saying, "oh come on. Both of them have only tried to *actually* kill me twice! It's fine guys, they won't seriously injure me." While having 5 stitches in his arm.

Jane doesn't talk about their Dad much, always getting quiet and looking away when he's brought up. They ask if B has ever hit him and Jane says, "he doesn't hit me anymore." And all of them want to kill him. They want to kill all of them (except maybe C) and bury their bodies where they'll never be found.

Of course, none of the Bats know about Tim's other nightly activities and where he gets his info from, simply shrugging and moving along. Tim is terrified of any of them accidentally finding out. But unfortunately that day could be coming soon as one of the workers goes to The Red Hood and grabs him by the jacket saying, "you're supposed to protect us right? That's what you promised us, isn't it? Saftey? Well one of the others, Jane, is in deep trouble. Their family is gunna *kill* them. Do whatever you need to do to keep Jane safe from those monsters, we'll tell you what we know, but stop them before she's just another dead body in Gothem Harbor. Do we need to pay you? We'll pay you however much it takes for you to make them pay."

This does remind me of a few fics that go over Tim's "Caroline" identity combined with the idea that Bruce was worse to Tim during his Robin years. Some fics do go into Tim having to go so far as actually having sex with people while some don't.

There are also a few fics of Tim going undercover in Crime Alley as a stripper, cocktail server, sex worker, or other when Red Hood finds out and loses his shit.

The idea of Tim using a fake identity to vent about his family issues is a really cool concept! It would allow him to see how the actions done against him were shit and not okay. He may have the mindset that his trauma is fine because it happened to him, but the separation of identities may help start that realization process. I'm also all here for the identity shenanigans of someone trying to save Jane from her family and accidentally going to one of the people who's hurt them. Lovely amounts of mixed emotions there.

This fic/AU would need to be careful to address both the trauma of Tim selling himself at such a young age as well as still treat sex workers with respect, individuality, and care. It would also be cool to see how the inner workings of the sex industry may be affected by Gotham (such as rogues, toxins, corruption, wealth disparity/poverty, etc).

But yeah! Lots to explore in this AU. I wonder if Tim, in this one, cares about pronouns or gender identity. Does he enjoy crossdressing, does he experiment with his gender identity, and does he make distinctions? I think it would be cool to indicate he's closer agender but is fine with whatever. I like to imagine, in this AU, that he simply doesn't care what gender identity he's perceived as unless that identity needs a specific gender.

Anyways, I am curious about how Red Hood reacts to his characterization by Jane. I wonder if she seems to be wary or distant from him before he finds out that's Tim. Hopefully, Jason tries not to take Jane's hesitance personally. Just because Red Hood is established as a protector doesn't mean that Jane would trust him. They may have their own reasons/experiences not to that has nothing to do with the anti-hero.

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)

(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)

Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:

I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.

Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?

~~~

"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."

The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.

"Self-hating much? You are also American."

"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.

"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"

"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."

"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."

Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.

The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.

But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.

A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.

"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.

"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."

"Mhm I'm sure."

"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."

Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.

"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."

Huh?

After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).

"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.

"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."

No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???

Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.

Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.

No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.

"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."

A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.

"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).

"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).

You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.

"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"

A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.

"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"

Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.

"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."

You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"

You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).

"Bon dia, ladies."

The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.

"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."

"The magician?"

Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.

"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."

As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"

~

Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.

As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.

"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."

There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.

"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."

"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.

"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."

The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.

"Bon dia, ladies."

"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."

Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.

The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.

His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.

Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.

"Who is the new girl?"

He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.

"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.

"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.

"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?

"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.

"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.

"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.

"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.

"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.

"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.

"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."

"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."

The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?

"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"

"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.

"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.

"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."

"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.

"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.

Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.

"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."

You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.

"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.

"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.

"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.

"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.

"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.

"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.

"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.

"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."

He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."

The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.

"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."

"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.

"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.

"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.

"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.

"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.

"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.

"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."

The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.

"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."

You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.

"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."

"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."

Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.

"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.

"Please don't say-"

"You're hot."

"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."

"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"

A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.

"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."

Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.

"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."

You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.

"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"

The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.

"So, you think Pedri likes you?"

The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.

"Excuse me?"

"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."

You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,

"Why not?"

Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.

"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"

Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?

And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.

Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,

"Am I still invited out tonight?"

~

Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.

"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.

"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."

Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.

"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."

Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.

"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."

Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.

"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."

"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."

Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).

Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.

"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."

The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"

But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,

"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"

Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.

"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."

"I'm begging you not to."

~

You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.

Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.

The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.

"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."

You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.

Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.

[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that

[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer

The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?

You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.

"Are you okay?"

The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."

"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."

The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.

He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.

"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.

You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,

"Do you want to go back to your place?"

There was no answer but yes.

~

The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.

You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.

"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"

One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.

"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."

Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.

"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."

The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.

"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"

"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."

Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.

"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."

Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."

You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.

"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"

"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.

"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"

"She must have done something to my note. She-"

"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."

Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.

There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.

"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.

"His what?"

"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"

You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.

How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist

[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots

No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.

Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.

[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro

[Naranja]: we are not friends

[Naranja]: and we never will be

[You can no longer send messages to this user]

~~~

A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3

Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.

Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.

Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza

Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

[azurevi]

Again here! :D Taking advantage of the alphabet request I can get: D, J and N with Silver, Sebek and Jade?

If it is many letters per character you can discard this order. No pressure and take your time 🌼💐🌌✨

D omestic - what is it like living with them?

Jade

Living with Jade means you’ll probably see terrariums of different shapes and styles placed around the house. If you’re knowledgeable enough, he’ll let you take care of them when he’s busy. Even if you aren’t, he likes to tell you bits of information from time to time.

Basically you’ll wake up one day and realize that you are well-versed in keeping terrariums.

It’s easy to tell that he’s an organized person. He likes to categorize dishes and bathroom items, and you’ll never find a dirty cloth lying around the house.

He has a schedule that he follows strictly, so you’ll find him in bed at pretty much the same time every night. If you have your own, that’s fine, he respects that, but if he catches you overworking yourself and sleeping at ungodly hours, he’ll personally drag you to the bedroom (with words of persuasion… most of the time)

Even when you’re alone, he seldom lets his pleasing smiles and gentlemanly demeanor drop, but you can tell if he’s tired from the day’s work by how he greets you. On days when he’s especially worn, he mumbles an ‘I’m home’ weakly before wrapping his arms around you. He always finds refuge in your arms.

He takes it upon himself to cook dinner most of the time, so you’re in for a treat.

Sebek

First and foremost you have to be good at debating, or else you’ll be stuck with Malleus posters, Malleus figurines, and anything related to the crown prince of Briar Valley scattered across your house.

At the very least, he demands that he keeps the portrait of Malleus above his side of the bed. Just… indulge him with this one.

He’s generally organized, but when he’s busy or caught up in something, he may unconsciously leave things all around the house— books on the sofa, jackets draped on the back of chairs at the dining table. He’ll tidy them up once he’s got things sorted out.

He treats living together very seriously, so expect division of labour. Housework is usually divided equally between you two, and he presents you with a financial report at the end of every month.

To be honest, if he agrees to move in with you, then you’ve probably gone very far in this relationship. So uh, if you see a ring box at the back of the drawer, just pretend you don’t know about it, okay?

Silver

Every time you get home, you can find him asleep at different spots. Sometimes it makes you laugh seeing him dozing off against the kitchen wall, hands still holding a dish and a soap.

Some items still have to be operated by magic— he can’t help it, he grew up surrounded by it after all. But if you can’t use magic well, he’ll make sure that there’s a non-magic version or something like that.

Living with Silver means that you’ll never lose anything in the cracks of the sofa or under the bed. Whenever you need something that you can’t find, an animal friend is ready to deliver it to you.

They also help set up romantic evenings from time to time, and they make the house lively. There’s always a bird or two perched on the balcony.

He’s subconsciously protective of you. When he buys furniture, he tries to avoid ones with sharp edges, or at least buys corner guards for them. Definitely the type to put his hand between your head and the edge when you bend down.

Oh, and Lilia drops by sometimes.

J okes - how do you cheer them up, and vice versa?

Jade

Jade doesn’t always voice his deepest feelings, especially the negative ones, but you can tell by his subtle changes. For one, he’ll a bit quieter than usual, his responses shorter.

It doesn’t really matter what you do, he’s already thankful that you notice the shift in his emotions. Though he likes it the most when you go on a walk with him. It helps him sort his mind out, and it’s good to have a listener. If you have more time, hiking is always an effective way to cheer him up.

At the same time, Jade is observant and can pick up the signs easily when you’re down in the dumps. To cheer you up, he approaches you directly and tries to solve your problem from the root. But if you only need emotional support, he’ll make sure to stay by your side the whole time. Alternatively, he may make you a fancy drink and some snacks.

Sebek

If Sebek is upset, you will probably hear it from miles away.

Say he makes a few careless mistakes in a test. The moment he gets the result back, he’s already whining loudly about how he could’ve done better and how he’s unfit to be Malleus’ guard. He blames himself quite easily, so it’s up to you to remind him that he doesn’t need to be perfect.

Sometimes though, he just won’t listen to reason. In that case, the best course of action is to let him rant all he want, and let out the pent up frustration.

Once he’s calmer, a sneaky kiss is guaranteed to put him in a good mood, even though he rarely admits it.

When you’re upset, he makes it his mission to put a smile back on your face. Say you got into an argument with your friend, he’ll encourage you (loudly) to make up with them. He may come off a bit strong when he’s yelling his support, but it helps fuel you with the courage you need to overcome whatever challenge you’re facing.

If there’s no particular reason you’re sad, he takes the traditional route and buys you a large bouquet to lift your spirits.

Silver

Silver is patient; he rarely gets mad or upset. When he does, it’s usually forgotten after a nap or two.

But there are still times when things go wrong and plague his mind. It brings a smile to his face when you make him something homely. Something as simple as hot soup would suffice.

He also likes to lie down on the grass with you. Doesn’t matter if you’re talking or not, it’s soothing to have you around him.

If you come to him with your problems, Silver tries his best to help. He knows that he himself may not be useful since he gets drowsy too easily, but he makes an effort to stay awake long enough so that he can ask others for advice or suggestions.

A nap is often the best antidote to melancholy. If you have too much going on in your mind, he’s always willing to slip away to dreamland with you.

N ickname - what terms of endearments do they have for you?

Jade

Darling or beloved. The first time he called you darling it was a slip of tongue, but since you appeared to like it, he has been using it since then. It’s simple but loving, at the same time encompassing how much he cherishes you.

Sebek

He called you ‘human’ for a long, long time (if you’re one…?) before you brought up the topic of pet names. This made him re-evaluate his nickname for you. After all, you’re someone he treasures! Surely he should call you something more special…

At the same time, just thinking about saying those tooth-rotting names like babe or honey makes him shiver. No, he needs someting unique…

It probably takes him some time to settle with one (once he called you ‘The one whom I love’ in public and wouldn’t stop cringing at himself). In the end he just goes with something like ‘my dear’.

It’s still a work in progress, though he would like to call you his one day.

Silver

Love or beloved. It just feels right on his tongue. Off topic but he likes it when you call him your prince.

He usually says it when he’s just woken up. Upon seeing your face hovering above his, he breaks into a content smile and says ‘Hey, love’.

Makes your heart melt every time.

[ragnarokhound]

>:3

just saying Icarus au would be too easy for this rn

uhhm

JayTim fire water personalities, clashing, hurting each other, fitting together as opposites

still not really an au hmmm

just gonna keep throwing ideas here

ohh wanna see a mermaid au in your style

or one of those free willy mermaid aus

deaging 🤔 of one character and the other gotta take care of them

bound by magic (in what way? who knows)

take ur pick

For the ask game!

AUGH ABYSS HOW DO I CHOOSE

But omg mermaids is so fun... It is one of my all time favorite self-indulgent urban fantasy aus haha, I still want to finish my teen wolf mermaid fic... Someday...

Mermaid aus are so good for the yearning. The secret keeping of it all, the 'we're from different worlds and idk how it will work unless one of us makes a sacrifice' of it all. And I kind of sort of already played this trope straight with the selkie fic I wrote for jaytim week this year, haha (selkies aren't technically the same as mermaids, but there's a big overlap there lol)

But I also like that the existence of Aquaman in DC lets you flip that trope on its head while still complying with canon! There totally could be real life mermaids in DC because low-key there already are lmao

This isn't quite what you asked for, but in that vein:

please entertain with me Atlantean!Tim who admires the Bats from afar. Most of my exposure to Atlantis/Aqualad is via the Young Justice cartoon (the glow up between the first seasons and the later seasons is still insane to me lol) so please imagine Tim found out about Robin when YJ made an appearance in Atlantis, or Tim got himself on the same track as, say, Lagoon Boy and hopes to join one day. He has the biggest crush on Jason Todd and Jason doesn't even know he exists

There are two vastly different directions I am torn between from here, but the funnier one is: Tim basically follows Jason home to Gotham. Cue Gotham getting a new harbor cryptid that's just an Atlantean with a crush and a very robust immune system lmao

Tim gets horribly sick for the first week or two (he's not keeping track) while his system reacts to the bullshit that is Gotham Bay - but he is determined to stick it out. Naturally, he gets found by a bat while he's shivering near the docks one day, following up on rumors about the kid from the black lagoon who keeps dodging harbor security. Bonus points if it's Babs, and she agrees not to tell Batman and Robin, at least until Tim is healthy. Bonus bonus points if it's not a bat who finds him, but Catwoman :^) (Fishy-fishy, I wouldn't let a goldfish swim around in this water, where are your parents, you're coming home with me--)

Meet-cute between Jaybin and Harbor Cryptid Tim involves a smuggling operation that Jason's been tracking. During the sting, he gets in over his head, ends up in the harbor, and Tim saves him from drowning

Jason knows Bruce hates it when Supers and other capes come to Gotham. He knows who Aquaman is. Ergo, he has to keep Tim a secret from Bruce. Cue sneaking around and hiding from Batman and all kinds of teenage dating tropes and shenanigans. Tim blushes 24/7 because, omg he's hanging out with his crush and he isn't freaked out by the whole Atlantean thing and he's helping Robin wow; meanwhile Jason is fascinated by Tim, exhilarated to have a secret from Bruce, and wondering more and more what it would be like to hold Tim's hand.

(Bonus: When Bruce finds out about Tim, the first thing he does is tattle on him to Aquaman. Follow those dominoes down to Tim being an Aqualad equivalent on the Young Justice team a few years down the road. OwO When they find Red Hood with the League of Assassins, Tim is right there with Dick trying to get him back.)

When I started writing this out, I did not intend for this to become cute baby jaytim with an atlantean twist, but that's where it ended up going haha

[lousirs]

IM SORRY IM BCAKK AGAIN BUT I JUST REMEMBERED THIS AWFUL HEADCANNON I HAD

ewew ok so I think it's safe to assume that the toy brand of pretty dolls probably gained success in the 60s or 70s given some of the little details in Lou's house and his style. The factories work all year round right and are automatic as seen in the movie, but most things required actual human workers back in the day. HERE'S THE STINGER. I read somewhere I forgot where, but back in the day workers in factories didn't work in the winter time because it was too cold. so basically if we applied this to the uglydolls world, there was a rather long period of time where there was no income of dolls in perfection for the ENTIRETY of winter. So Lou had absolutely no company whatsoever in the winter for like 40+ years give or take (I have no idea when automated factories became a thing)

ok now I'm just making things worse but I also had another headcannon where weather in the real world also applied in uglyville and perfection and like the dolls in perfection got winter uniforms and all that (ugh now I might rant about this). So yea it was snowing, no other dolls in perfection, kind of depressing given that probably by then Lou had cut off ties with Ox. YOU CANT MENTION THE BOTS IN PERFECTION BC NO ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE YET (lol that means Lou was COMPLETELY incharge of everything, maybe he had assistance in doll form?)

yea but this probably played a role in the downfall of Lou's mental wealth like man just lost his best man Ox so being alone for a whole month once a year was definitely not a silly goofy moment for him.

ok that's the end of my ramble 😼😼

NO NEED TO APOLOGISE FOR RETURNING! i love me some headcanons :D

that's a big ouch for lou, but you are probably right there. lou (and also mandy) have 50s/60s- style houses (i believe so anyway) so how long would that be if we say lou's breakdown was about 2020 so (the movie is 2019 but im rounding it to 2020 for my brain)... OUCH AROUND 70 YEARS. SAVE LOU OH MY DOLL--

love your headcanons though, and i have a few of my own for that:

(under the cut, cause i can already tell this is gonna be a long one vvv)

perhaps since the factory closes for winter, the batch made right before stay in the institute for winter? yeah yeah lou could probably send them to the big world when the factory closes, but knowing him, he'd probably keep them for the holidays at the very least. cause he craves for that company.

it would be so cute though! lou would hold a big winter party with singing and FIREWORKS and whatnot. side note, i headcanon that lou loves fireworks. i mean, he uses them all the time (during ugly truth... during his lessons... etc) and i can so see him going all out on the fireworks budget. anyway, i feel that such parties would bring temporary joy to him, as he finally feels part of a family, with every doll laughing and chatting and overall having a good time.

...and then they would leave him again. and again. and again. and again... i feel like after a while he'd give up on the festives, as temporary joy and love isn't fulfilling anymore.

with the weather, i have a really dumb theory that the institute is within a dome. think about it, uglyville has a yawn ball for a sun with messy clouds...

and in the institute, the clouds are perfect (more realistic even) and there's no sun in sight (as far as i know)

uglyville probably has all kinds of weather, whilst at the institute it is always a fair temperature. no rain, clouds are always light and airy... etc, due to the factory operating the weather system within the dome perhaps. that changes when the uglydolls infiltrate, the sky in the institute turns to a dark greeny colour. and then when the two sides join, they destroy the dome.

anyways, perhaps during the winter, when the factory is shut down, they shut down the light and airy atmosphere of the institute too, leaving a cold, snowy breeze in its wake (especially during lou's earlier years). and i doubt his home is very warm either, as it's so large with barely any furniture (at least in the foyer shown in uglier truth).

and with lou's company over the years, i feel that after his bond with ox, he became desperate for the company again (who could blame him?) and tried his hardest to keep as many dolls by his side as possible, ending up with the spy girls and mandy (and perhaps the backup singers)(i don't know about them). he would probably manipulate them in some way to staying, perhaps threatening recycling and the washing machine out of pure desperation to keep someone around. so i don't think he'd be totally alone, but i feel that the spy girls and mandy were only close to him in a business relationship-type way. they were only there if he needed something to be done. he was the leader of the institute after all, he always seemed one level above the rest of the dolls, and being personally close to him seemed like something impossible.

and yeah, the assistance bots were there, but even if artificial intelligence somehow existed during those times, or if someone higher-up was controlling the robots, they wouldn't have a genuine bond with lou anyways, as they are just assistant robots who are meant for helping out with training and the gauntlet only (or so i think).

[washa]

I listened to Vincent and Sam’s recent audio and here’s my favourite personal comments/thoughts! (We need Elliot and some blues clues shit right now man 😭)

“He’s tying up some loose ends.” I’M SORRY?? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN NOW??

Also Sam sounds rather pissed and I’m just a tad scared.  

“Do we think those “loose ends” will still have a pulse by the time he’s done with them?” Probably not. Realistically not. 

Vincent sounds so disbelieving?? I MEAN I WOULD BE TOO???

“I’m not even exactly sure where he went.” Porter don’t you dare ghost treasure. PORTER DON’T YOU DARE GHOST TREASURE.

Again on, The Shaw pack needs a fucking break 🙌

I bet Vincent is FUMING or right now. Imagine you were mingling with someone who had a hand in something that legitimately killed a thousand people, and your lover. 

No bc i get it, Vincent must be like so fucking conflicted. I FUCKING KNEW WHEN VINCENT SAID HE WAS "GONNA FOCUS ON THE GOOD" IN THE PORTER AND VINCENT MEETING VIDEO SOMETHING WAS GONNA HAPPEN. 

I mean i wouldn’t call them “his lover” but go on. 

“His moral compass has never pointed true north.” Amen, Now on that note, I’d like to reinstate on how Treasure should run. 

“-And were gearin’ up for somethin’ else.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??

Yeah Vincent stay positive 💪 

CloseKnit = Hydra confirmed 

HUH WHAT FUCKING SCANDAL AND RAID??? Bro.. HUH

I imagine a lego tower with like “House of Bennet” stuck on it crumbling down in Lego Movie style.

“We’re about to get our hands a lot dirtier then.” If you can listen closely, you can hear Vincent’s eyes darkening, his character development and trauma tingling.

“No secondhand go-betweens, no twisted game of telephone.” I love the way he said that, Like yes drop them bars Princey ‼

URGH I LOVE THE WAY THE BOTH ASK EACH OTHER IF THEY’RE BOTH OK WITH IT UIEKJK

“They’ve shown incompetent they can be.” Sweetheart’s kicking the ground right now.

I have a question, Has nobody followed up on Elliot??? I know he reported it after the Inversion and how he got brushed off bc yk it was the INVERSION. BUT It’s been TWO FUCKING YEARS?? Realistically he’d be one of the best leads on CloseKnit, He has a basic understanding how powerful CloseKnit is and how they operate. Can we get a lil circle back to him please 😭 

“I’m not Porter, I won’t just do something because it’s what’s ordered of me, whether I agree with it or not. That’s not how I operate.” DAMN SAM DAMN

----------------------

The next couple of lines are just things Sam said that I find really interesting…

“But that’s a dangerous precedent. We all know what growing power can do to a person with good intentions.” 

“-”Messy realities” of being in his House, Since we never wanted to be in it in the first place, and that choice was taken from us.” 

“But it’s also convenient that he kept all of this from the two people who were most likely to have a problem with what he’s doing.”

 “-To only trusted in people who voice any opposition to it, and well just do as ordered without question.”

“I need answers on those things.” 

“I appreciate you see me on that same level, deservin’ that same trust from him. But in a lot of ways, William’s old school.”

“I’m not his progeny. I haven’t been around as long as you or Alexis, He didn’t take me under his wing, like he did Porter. He’s always been kind to me, Set me up with a home and with work, and I'm grateful for that.” (I can’t tell if Sam said fringe or friend next, but If it is friend, then Porter and Sam feel the same way, which is an interesting take on how they both feel.)

“I believe that feels that he owes you an explanation, I don’t know if he’ll think that he owes me one.”

----------------------

REAL VINCENT PREACH MAN, WILL NEEDS TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING LIKE WHAT THE FUCK ‼

“Glorified Press Release” I want that framed on my wall.

Vincent has developed SO MUCH within these two years it’s crazy.

HUH DARLIN’??? WDYM DARLIN’????

Vincent wants like a guard dog or smth?? Or is he gonna use the guilt trip/ threaten type shit, Like,“Look who you put in danger, a member of the Shaw Pack! Tell me what’s gonna happen from now on or the Shaw Pack will cut ties with you 😇”

Hey on the bright side, Hendral Wyrdsmythe is coming BACKKKK 💕

[scifrey]

Deleted Scene: Take Root

For those who love the "Cling Fast" / Hob Adherent series: this is, regrettably, not a new story. The series still ends where it ended.

However, it used to have a different ending. In that different version, instead of "Hold Tight" and "Keepsakes: A Plane Ticket", I planned to resolve the Daniel Hall and Orpheus storylines by writing a much longer multi-chapter fic about Hob finding out he still has living descendants through another TV show. In this story, Morpheus would have gotten jealous of Hob's living children, and spend more and more time asleep, with Daniel, until Despair & Desire finally came to Hob to tell him the truth about Orpheus.

I wrote this first chapter and then really, really struggled with the story after that. A long conversation with @late-to-the-magnus-archives led me to realize that if I did the Walkers/Daniel/Orpheus thing this way, by making them a negative thing in Hob's life, by choosing to stretch the trope of miscommunication between lovers, and by basically reverse-uno-ing all the work Hob did to grieve his brief mortal family, then I was doing a disservice to events and character growth in "Cling Fast".

Thematically it might have been a good fit, but it was perilously close to manufacturing unrealistic dissent for the sake of drama, and not because this is how the characters would have actually reacted in this situation.

So, I abandoned this tale, found better, kinder ways to resolve the Walkers/Daniel/Orpheus storylines, and reworked the series to be as it currently stands.

However.

I am still a little in love with this tiny fragment of a tale, and wanted to share it with you. Just for funsies.

Happy reading!

-J

Status: Deleted Scene from a story I won't be completing.

Series: the Hob Adherent series.

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse, but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death.

Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Eleanor | Hob Gadling’s Wife/Hob Gadling (past)

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven, Destruction of the Endless, Patrick the Bartender, Harriet Butler, Maisie Hampstead

TAKE ROOT

When the camera crew walks into The New Inn, Hob assumes it has something to do with Cardenio. The filming request had come through Harriet, and as Hob trusts her not to chuck him into any situation that would endanger him, or his husband, and their secret, he'd said yes without really looking into the details of the television program.

They'd asked to film inside the pub, and to interview him on camera. As this was just one in a long line of such requests, he'd set the date, and thought nothing more about it.

(When this lifetime was over, Hob was going to have to ask for a very heavy favour from little Daniel Hall, to ensure that no one remembered that his face matches that of Robert Gadlen the Sixth, sometime media darling of the mediaeval history studies world. Dream of the Endless had already pledged to make his uncles' transition as smooth as was in his power, thank goodness, but Hob was still nervous about all the footage floating around out there.)

What Hob didn't expect was for the crew to come in full guns blazing, so to speak.

"Oh, hello," he says, standing up from the banquette as a steady-cam, followed by the operator holding it, enter the pub.  "Welcome to The New Inn."

The red light at the camera's lens is on, warning the world that it's recording. He's suddenly very glad he let Matthew talk him into wearing his hot-professor outfit, and the very light makeup required for this sort of thing. His hair is still shorter than he’d like, the scar on the left side of his head from a gunshot wound finally hidden by the longer style, for which he’s grateful. He wouldn’t want anyone to see it and worry. 

Hob had kind of assumed that the crew would be dolling him up, but in the years since Elizabethan Manor he's learned that it never hurts to be camera-ready, just in case.

A man in a wireless headset enters behind the camera operator and waves at him, then points at the red light. 

Yeah, I got that, Hob thinks but doesn't say. He's not sure why they're filming right away, but he doesn't want to spoil whatever shot they have planned. Maybe they spoke to Surinder and found out what a terrible actor Hob is, and have decided that it's far better to get his First Reactions on camera than to ask him to pretend.

Hob doesn't mind, but it would have been nice to be warned first.

Actually, if he bothered to read Harriet's email with any kind of depth, he probably was.

Patrick, the only other person in the pub at present, drops behind the bar like a WWI private tripping into a trench, and then scuttles into the kitchen, presumably to warn Destruction to stay hidden if he doesn't want to be filmed. Dee is in the middle of making the day's crusty loaf, so nothing will pull the Endless from the kitchen, unless it's serious. 

Dee means business when he bakes.

"Thank you!" a young woman behind the PA says. She ducks around the other two folks, who are lingering in the doorway, and moves purposefully across the pub. Once she's firmly within the shot, she sticks out her hand. "I'm Maisie Hampstead."

"Hi Maisie, I'm Bob," Hob offers, shaking and then holding out a chair at his usual two-top for her because he's a gentleman, and old habits tend to kick in when he's wrong-footed. "What brings you to my humble pub?"

Maisie sets a heavy leather folder on the table between them, and for a second, Hob is terrified that this is a set up. That someone had hacked Harri's email, got him cornered, is about to reveal his terrible truth to a live-streamed audience, with a phalanx of nondescript cars and government scientists waiting in his front garden if he tries to run. 

He reminds himself that the literal god of warriors is just one wall away, covered up to his elbows in flour, and that even if he was taken out of here against his will, his inlaws are the most powerful and immutable forces in the universe. Nothing and no one can harm him. Also, he can't die, which makes him ruthless and vicious when it comes to protecting himself—he doesn't have to avoid injury the way other people do when engaging in combat. While bullet and stab wounds hurt, they can be ignored in favour of finishing a fight.

But Maisie just smiles at him, flush with genuine excitement, and flips back the cover of the folder to reveal a… a family tree.

Okay, so not a clandestine setup or sting operation.

But something just as fraught.

Hob's eyes go wide as he skims the names on it, he knows they do, and he's pretty sure he must look absolutely pole-axed, because that's how he feels. He knew the BBC Historics department had mocked up a family tree for Elizabethan Manor, but he's never had occasion or desire to sit down and study it. He was already chastined enough by the fact that they found him in the first place. He had no patience to read in black and white where exactly he screwed up in hiding his past identities.

Hindsight, as the saying goes, is 20/20.

But the cameras are on him and he can’t exactly snap the cover shut and shout them all out the door. Not after he’d told Hari that he’d be game. So he reads on.

At the top of the tree, in computer-generated font, it reads:

Hob's breath catches in his throat as he runs the tips of his fingers over first Eleanor's, then Robyn and Wee John's names. It's taken a lot of work, but he's proud that he's able to have this out-of-the-blue reminder of their love and loss, and not immediately react negatively. He is joyfully reminded of that time of his life, seeing their names, instead of triggered.

But… no, wait, something's different…

"There's a… there's another line here," Hob croaks, following the dots downward from Robyn's box. This wasn't part of the graphic when they shared it on the show. "There shouldn't be another line here. He never…" Hob flattens his palm over the next row down on the family tree, not ready to read it yet.

Instead, he looks up at the young woman across from him, drinking in the sight of her like a parched man at a wholly unexpected, but nonetheless welcome, oasis.

She's blonde, hair flaxen-yellow and straight as a pin. But her eyes are dark, soulful brown, crinkling just enough at the corner to put her in her late twenties, he guesses. Detached earlobes. Complexion a few shades darker than his own, but still within the realm of olive-skinned. She's wearing light makeup, eyelashes mascaraed dark and lips painted and funky plum red. They curl on one side when she realises what he's doing, what he's looking for, the smile secret and mischievous in one corner.

And she has a cleft chin.

"Oh my god," Hob breathes. His eyes burn. There's a lump in his throat the size of a fist. He swallows hard. Excitement and fear and confusion swirl up in his middle, nauseating and fluttery.

He wants to reach out and grab her face between his hands, and hold her there, cataloguing everything. He wants to shove away from the table and race up the stairs and start shouting at the framed sketches of Robyn over his bed. He wants to curl up under a weighted blanket and hide from the truth until his husband coaxes him out.

Instead he just sits at the table, mouth hanging open like a landed fish.

He wishes Morph was here, and at the same time is unaccountably glad that his husband is in the middle of his daily ramble through the nearby Wapping Woods park. This is, he thinks, something he wants to discover on his own, first. Something to cherish and to hold, just for him, before he has to share it with the wider world.

Entirely on camera, of course.

Like all his major emotional revelations lately, it seems.

Ha.

 "You… he… did he…?"

"See for yourself," Maisie coaxes him gently.

Slowly, tremblingly, Hob lifts his hand away from the paper.

"Robyn had a son," Hob whispers, voice wavering. His hands are shaking. He presses them between his thighs, under the table, where the camera can't see. "I had a—" he cuts himself off with a choked noise, wet and thick with longing.

"They weren't married," Maisie explains, not oblivious to his surprise and distress, and quick to reassure. Though, from her perspective, he guesses it must be very odd, to see someone falling to pieces over family revelations that are already centuries past. "They never got the chance to."

She slides another piece of paper out from under the family tree, a copy of a handwritten letter, and Hob snatches it from her hands perhaps too eagerly. It's an account of a fight in the alleyway behind a tavern, written from the perspective of a bystander—no, not a bystander. A witness.

A patron at the tavern the night Robyn died.

There's a sentence highlighted but the letters blur and slide across the page.

Hob wipes at his eyes. "I… sorry, can you read it to me…?"

Maisie takes the letter back and reads:

Young master Gadlen protested that he had no quarrel with the brothers of the distraught maid. He shewed that he had drawn neither dagger nor mayde a fiste. He did then call them brothers of his owne and did swear his intent to wed, but his oath came too layte for a knife had been thruste under his rib. Martha did wail and forswear the murderer as her kin, and held fast the lad until his heartsbloode had ceased to flow into the street. Mister Hampsted took his daughter awaye inside to the warmth. The undertaker was called for piteous master Gadlen and the lad was borne awaye to the house of his lamented father.

Hob remembers that night with the clarity that four hundred years of reliving it in his nightmares, and wishing he could have found a way to prevent it, has gifted him with. The smell of the tobacco he'd been smoking in the study mixed with the fatty funk of the tallow candles; the squeak of the undertaker's cart wheels as they bumped up the drive; the crunch of boots on the gravel as Rob's friends accompanied his body in an honour guard of misery; the gasp of horror Fletcher quickly stifled when he caught sight of the solemn procession; the taste of the claret Hob had been enjoying turning to sour bile on the back of his tongue.

Maisie mistakes his grave silence for incomprehension of the archaic English.

"The night Robyn Gadlen found out that Martha was pregnant, it looks like her brother jumped him for taking her virtue," Maisie explains gently. "Martha said in later letters that Robyn had proposed marriage as soon as she'd told him, and they'd conspired to elope. But her brothers stopped them as they were sneaking out the back of the tavern. They never made it."

I never knew, Hob realises. There was a child out there, Robyn's child, and I never even knew it. I failed Robyn. I failed this little Harry. I was so busy wallowing in my own grief and self pity, too busy getting drunk each night with Despair, too busy calling for and rebuffing Death, that I never… did she bring the child to the house? Was I too insensible, too pathetic to even be sober long enough to see the baby when I had the opportunity—

Hob's breath shudders out of him in a soft moan. "Why did… why did she never bring the babe to Robyn's father?"

"Her own father sent her away to a convent that same night," Maisie says. "Here, here's another letter. She wrote often to a cousin during her confinement. She says that she would have fled to Gadlen House if she could, but her brothers had carried her off so quick that she was in a nun's cell before the blood was dry on her hands."

"Oh Christ," Hob groans, both a prayer for that poor girl, and a curse against those who had kept her from him. He is awash in relief that he hadn't actively driven his grandson and his mother away, and both regret and anger in equal measure that the baby was hidden from him. "And after the birth?"

"Martha returned home with little Harry and married a man who agreed to care for them both so long as Harry's parentage was never mentioned. The man took over her father-in-law's tavern eventually, but he died of cholera a few years later."

"Hampstead," Hob repeats dully, his brain clicking over slowly, like his gears were filled with fluffy, grief-coloured cotton. "That was… that was the proprietor. Of the White Horse."

"Yes."

He looks up, feels the blood draining from his face. "Robyn died in the White Horse?"

Maisie cuts a confused glance at the camera, not sure what this has to do with the conversation they're clearly supposed to be having. "Yes."

Hob fists his hand in his shirt, over his heart. Surely, surely, he was going to die now. 

This had to be it, after six hundred and sixty-some-odd years. Surely, there was no way to survive a heartbreak like this. "I thought… they said a tavern brawl, but they never said which one, and I—"

Maisie reaches out as if to touch his arm, and then stops halfway across the table, unsure of her welcome. "I'm sorry, do you need a minute?"

"Yes," Hob hiccups, and stands from the banquette. He doesn't look at the camera, doesn't make eye contact with the PA. He just walks straight back to the kitchen, pushes open the door, and zombie-shuffles right into the arms of Destruction, who has clearly been waiting for him.

The door has barely shut behind him before his face crumples and his lungs seize up. "He died in the White Horse," Hob sobs quietly. "Right there, where I—"

"I'm so sorry, Hob," Dee says, and rubs his back.

"All that time, I never marked it or… I feel like I should have known. I should have felt it."

"He went to the Sunless Lands in peace, Hob. There was nothing of your son remaining in that place for you to have felt. Don't feel guilty about that."

"I wish I'd known."

Dee hums gently, soothing, and hugs Hob harder as he weeps. Being hugged by Dee is like being gently crushed by tree-trunks. Hob presses his face against his brother-in-law's chest and lets Dee squeeze his soul back into his body.

After a few long minutes, Hob steps back and gives Dee a grateful pat on the arm. "Where's Patrick?"

"I sent him out for lemons," Dee rumbles.

"I bought a whole bag yesterday."

"I know."

"Thank you."

Dee studies his face. He must not like what he sees there because he says, "Do you want me to kick them out?"

"No," Hob replies. He sighs and scrubs his mouth, tries to pat down his hair. "No, no, it's fine. It was just… unexpected. Serves me right for not reading Harri's email more thoroughly."

Dee peers out of the porthole window in the kitchen door at the film crew. Hob can hear the murmur of their discussion, but not the contents of it. "Still, that's a hell of a thing to spring on a guy."

"I'll say," Hob snorts. "Oh, hey look, it's noon. I can drink now."

"Don't go overboard," Dee says, eyeing him.

"Don't worry," Hob reassures him, patting his massive forearm again. "I'm not going to fall back into my self-destructive ways. I spend enough time with you as it is, new-new kid."

Destruction snorts. "I was more thinking about how Despair would worry about you. She hovers like a brooding chicken."

Hob chuckles at the image, which was likely the point, and appreciates Dee's concern for his well being. Hob finishes putting himself to rights, squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and shoves the rest of his freak-out down, down, down to share with Morpheus when his husband gets back. And the cameras are gone.

On his way back to his table, he stops at the bar to scoop up four champagne flutes, and pulls one of the nicer bottles of prosecco out of the back of the fridge.

"Well," he says, feeling if not settled then at least more centred, when he sets his glasses down on the table beside Maisie's folder. "I think I can guess what happens next in the story, and if I'm right, then I figure we'll have something to toast to."

Maisie lights up, and Hob can see it, right there, in the way her eyes sparkle—here is his son's many-times granddaughter, come back to him. His blood, in her veins, seeking him out like a loadstone.

Oh christ, Hob thinks, falling a little bit in love with the kid on the spot. I'm going to have to let her dictate the pace of our family bonding, or else I'm going to be selfish and grabby.

"To be fair," Maisie says, "until we found some new documents, I thought I was a Fletcher."

"The Steward?" Hob asks, startled.

"After Martha's husband died, the tavern went to one of Martha's brothers and she came perilously close to abject poverty. She had other children to feed, and thought it was time for Robert Gadlen to know about his grandson. But by then they say the man had fully gone mad, and the Steward decided it was unsafe for the kid to live with him," Maisie explains, sliding the corresponding photocopy of a much older document out of the pile to show him. 

It seems I owe that filthy cheating thief my gratitude for this, at least, Hob thinks as he pursues the paper. I absolutely was not in my right mind and this would have absolutely made it worse.

"When Fletcher just showed up at the civil courts one day with a kid, everyone assumed the little boy was actually his. Up until a month ago, my whole family thought we were the illegitimate descendants of the Steward. But the dates weren't adding up, and… well, then we joined the show and they did some digging. The historian found Martha's letters in the Gadlen Fell Crate papers, along with the documentation from the Court of Chancery, and suddenly it all made sense."

"Chancery?" Hob echoes, startled. "Little Harry was a ward of the Councillor?"

"Oh, you know what that is!" Maisie says, delighted. "I didn't."

Hob chances a look up at the P.A., who shrugs, and gives a go-head wave. He taps the family tree still between them, bringing her attention to the fake younger brother he had invented for himself in the early 1700s, Richard Gadlen.

"Maisie, besides what it says on the family tree, did they tell you who I am?"

"Just that Richard Gadlen was my, uh, eight-times great uncle," Maisie says, blithely unaware of how Hob's heart is threatening to burst apart behind his ribs. "Which means you're my, um, no wait, we figured this out, my ninth cousin, once removed because you're one generation older than me."

Hob huffs a chuckle. More than one generation, he thinks. 

He's taken to putting silver at his temples in the last year, just a speckle of bleach with a toothbrush, followed by some of the grey-pastel dye that the kids are into these days. He used to have to do this with chalk, so it's much nicer to not shed faux dandruff every time he turns his head. Morph, peacock that he is, isn't ready to start putting on airs of age. Doesn't matter, though—his hair is so black most people already assume it's coloured.

"And did they tell you what I do for a living?" he asks, reaching for the prosecco and unwrapping the foil.

"No," Maisie says, looking around The New Inn. "I assume you're a publican?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not my full-time gig." He works the cage off the bottle neck, and shoots a look at the camera operator. They give him a thumbs up, prepared for the loud noise. He begins to wiggle the cork. "I'm a professor at the University of York. I teach Medieval and Early Modern History and Language. My name is Doctor Robert Gadlen—"

"The sixth!" Maisie squeals in delight, finally putting all the clues together. "Oh my gosh! You're the Witch Knight!"

Hob groans. "We are not calling me that," he says, just as the cork jumps free with a delicious little pop.

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

If Leigh hadn't given Zoya Alina's storyline what role do you think she would've played in the next books? Right now she kinda fills in the gap that Alina left as the chosen one 2.0 but if it wasn't that what do you think would've been her story?

I mean that’s really hard to say because then what is the story going to be about? So much of KoS and RoW hinge on that rehashing. Removing it results in a completely different story— which is something I’d be fine with lol but it’s definitely not a case of like what would have happened instead.

Anyway, I personally love Zoya as more of a foil to the Darkling and filling that role of institutional power vs being placed as an Alina type who’s suddenly come into abilities she does not understand. With how much the original trilogy was about the threat of corruption inherent to power, the KoS duology did not engage with it… at all. I think partially because LB wanted to put the conflict to rest as something Alina like… fixed… to uphold the R&R ending. But it’s too neat, and just uninteresting? And Zoya and Nikolai were Team Morally Dubious from the literal beginning! Bizarre to have them refitted to Lawful Good with zero quandaries whatsoever. And it’s just more meaningful imo to see them working to uphold any sort of greater good, that the choices are taxing and dubious and sometimes very morally compromising.

I think Zoya and Nikolai are really interesting and can be super complimentary in how they operate on different sides of a gray morality spectrum. Zoya is ruthless and selfish, she has limits but she’s somewhat just out for herself and the people she cares about. Nikolai is greater good focused but he operates on a means to an end style of morality that’s literally presented as the starting point to where the Darkling ended up. That is bound to result in many ethical clashes! They have very different values!

Anyway I basically just wanted to see Zoya as the new scary power behind the throne. I wanted her as the new Darkling essentially in terms of being the shadowy figure who is doing the dirty work, and willing to get her hands way dirtier because her limits are different from Nikolai’s and she’s willing to go some fucked up places for her convictions. (The Alina to her Darkling lmao)

Like it’s not expanded on in KoS at all, but I see Zoya as something of a zealot tbh? She starts out as the Darkling’s devout follower, then somewhat grudgingly switches her allegiance to Alina. With both of them out of the way, I think Nikolai would fill that role for her. But not necessarily Nikolai the person, vs Nikolai the king and all of the hopes she’s placed on his rule making a difference. Which is to say, I think her devotion would mean she’s perfectly happy to go behind his back or hurt him in some way to protect him or help his rule. Like she is absolutely the person who would order fucked up assassinations that he might have qualms about without telling him because it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Arc-wise I also just wanted to see her struggle way more with the Darkling’s ghost and the values he instilled in her. Navigating the aftermath of that kind of disillusionment, and just trying to figure out what she believes in at all.

Anyway in the version of KoS that exists in my head, there is no new magic or world ending stuff. They’ve fully exited the fairy tale. It’s just politics and the miserable business of piecing a country back together after a civil war, and also recovering from the trauma of everything that happened. But while Nikolai’s come out of it determined to Fix Ravka and Deserve being king and to be nothing like his father, Zoya has come out the other side determined to be efficient. And I’d just love to see them hurt each other a lot on the path to understanding each other and trying to grapple with the above questions of morality, and where to draw the line re: selfishness or destroying oneself for a cause. And most importantly shfhff I do not want an answer!

They’re team Morally Dubious! They live on a precipice! There’s no easy answer beyond just trying to do their best at any given moment and make some ethical trade offs and just hope really hard that overall they’re going in the right direction.

[palettepainter]

OKAY FIRST OF ALL HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

I was wondering what are some of your headcanons for Dr teeth, or zoot? Have a wonderful birthday! 🍰

Thanks!! I'm so fucking terrified for my bday this year, I don't know if I'll make a post about it cuz there are a lot of other reasons behind it aside from just not having any irl friends to celebrate with, but seeing some of you wish my a happy bday gives me a little smile!

And I sure do!

Zoot:

-So I like to think that even though he can sleep anywhere anytime, his sleep schedule is actually whack. Sometimes he'll sleep for like seventeen hours straight, then wake up at two thirty in the morning, make himself a sandwich and watch tv or something.

-When he was a kid everybody thought his talking shoe Jimmy was just his imaginary friend, including his many cousins. To this day some of them still believe that Jimmy is just Zoot's made up friend and they play along with it

-The only real 'sweet' thing he can handle is dark chocolate, if he has anything sweeter which is barely ever he'll have to eat it alongside something else

-As a kid he had a toy sloth called Timmy, sloths are still one of his favourite animals

-Sleep deprived Zoot is a rarity, but it does exist, the band all fear him, even Animal. He's basically Muffin from the episode Sleepover, mixed with the terror of an eldritch horror. Sleep deprived Zoot is a predator, he can smell your fear

-He's the oldest out of his cousins so far that I've designed for him, but is coincidentally the shortest

-Zoot sometimes forgets that Liv is in her early twenties (she's the same age as Scooter). She doesn't drink alcohol a lot cuz she doesn't like the flavour but when she does drink the stuff Zoot gives her a look and tells her to stop drinking it and go get an apple juice. Liv has to remind him a LOT that she's no longer twelve

Teeth:

-Inspired by a short story titled A Nightmare On Mulholland Drive, even though Teeth's parents are dentist's, and he spent a small portion of his life working at their practise, he is deathly terrified of having to have any operations with his Teeth. As a child he hated the noise of the whirring drill his Mama would use in the practise. A large reason on why his teeth are so perfect is because he didn't ever want to be in a situation where one of those drills had to be near his mouth

-Though his confidence has only improved over the years of being a musician, if you know the right things to say, Teeth can still get quite flustered if the compliments and flirts are coming from the right people

-He is so befuddled by London Cheesecake. To anyone that doesn't know London cheesecake is a pastry like dessert with icing and coconut on the top. The first time Teeth saw it he blinked hard, then asked where the biscuit base was

-When he was younger he had a nervous habit of wringing his fingers, and his noodly arms would coil up by his chest like snakes in distress

-It's not obvious thanks to him always wearing a hat but Teeth's hair is curly in parts, like his Mama's and Grammy's. Tina's hair when it's not pulled back into her signature style is a wild, frilly MESS

-When he first met baby Animal he was fascinated by his jaw strength, impressed by how something that small could have that much bite to him. Floyd was surprised, thinking Teeth would at least be a little more wary about him, but it brought him relief knowing Teeth wasn't unnerved by him

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Zack Beauchamp at Vox:

“Are we a country that looks out for each other ... or do you go down a path of amplifying anger, division and fear?”

That’s how Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau described the stakes in his country’s upcoming election in an interview with Vox’s Today, Explained this week — outlining the 2025 contest as no ordinary election but a referendum on the very soul of Canada. This existential framing is an unsubtle shot at Trudeau’s rival, Conservative Party leader Pierre Poilievre, a populist firebrand who is currently outpolling the prime minister by a wide margin. Poilievre rose to party leadership as a champion of the extremist trucker convoy that occupied Ottawa in January 2022, and since then has regularly pandered to far-right voters. He has proposed defunding the CBC (Canada’s widely respected public broadcaster) and repeatedly promoted a conspiracy theory in which Trudeau is in league with the World Economic Forum. There’s a reason that Trudeau and many others have directly linked Poilievre to Trump: His political style practically invites it. But how accurate is the comparison? Is Canada really poised to be the next Western country to fall to the far-right populist global wave? The answer, as best as I can tell, is mixed.

It’s true that, by Canadian standards, Poilievre is an especially hard-nosed figure, one far more willing to use extreme rhetoric and attack political opponents in harsh terms. But on policy substance, he’s actually considerably more moderate than Trump or European radicals. Mostly eschewing the demagogic focus on culture and immigration that defines the new global far right, Poilievre is primarily concerned with classic conservative themes of limited government. His biggest campaign promises at present aren’t slashing immigration rates or cracking down on crime, but building more housing and repealing Canada’s carbon tax. Poilievre is basically just a conventional Canadian conservative who wraps up his elite-friendly agenda in anti-elite language aimed at working-class voters. He’s the kind of politician that some Republicans wish Donald Trump was: a tame populist. Understanding Poilievre isn’t just of interest to Canadians. There are reasons that his brand of populism is less virulent than what’s cropped up in many other Atlantic democracies — ones that hold important lessons for safeguarding democracy around the world.

Why Pierre Poilievre doesn’t fit the far-right script

The University of Georgia’s Cas Mudde, one of the leading scholars of the European right, has developed what is (to my mind) the most useful definition of radical right politics today. In his account, this party family — factions like Hungary’s Fidesz, France’s National Rally, and the US GOP — share three essential qualities. First, they are nativist; they strongly oppose immigration and multiculturalism. Second, they are willing to use aggressive, even authoritarian measures to deal with social disorder like undocumented migration and crime. Finally, they are populist, meaning that they define politics as a struggle between a virtuous people and a corrupt elite. Poilievre is certainly a populist. A right-wing operative and politician since he was a teenager, he rocketed to the top of the Conservative Party hierarchy after emerging as the most vocal champion of the 2022 Ottawa occupation. The uprising, which began against pandemic restrictions but swiftly became a broader far-right movement, was quite unpopular nationally. But inside the Conservative Party, there was enough support for its “pro-freedom” message that Poilievre rode his pro-convoy stance to victory in the party’s subsequent leadership election.

Since then, his populism has focused relentlessly on attacking the media, “globalists,” and (above all) Trudeau. Casting the fight between his Conservatives and Trudeau’s Liberals as the “have-nots” versus the “have-yachts,” he has argued that the prime minister embodies a debased Ottawa establishment out of touch with the needs and values of ordinary Canadians. In a recent speech, Poilievre cast Trudeau as an “elitist” leader gunning for Canada’s freedoms. “If he had read Nineteen Eighty-Four, he would have thought it was an instruction manual,” Poilievre argued. Somewhat ironically, Poilievre also believes Canada’s criminal justice system should be harsher. Blaming Trudeau for a recent rise in car thefts, Poilievre has argued for a reimposition of mandatory minimum sentences and other tough-on-crime policies. This means there’s at least a case that he also fits the second prong of Mudde’s definition of radical right politics. But on the first prong, nativism, Poilievre clearly diverges from Trump and the European far right. He has publicly insisted that “the Conservative party is pro-immigration,” and he has made appealing directly to immigrants a central part of his campaign strategy.

[...] Arising primarily in Western provinces (Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Poilievre’s native Alberta), Canadian “prairie populism” historically draws strength from the notion that the federal government cares more about the population centers in Quebec and Ontario than the rest of the country. Prairie populism, which comes in left- and right-wing varieties, focuses far more on regional and economic issues than the cultural obsessions of the modern far right. “We have had a long history of populism — particularly in the prairie provinces, the Western provinces — going back to the 1920s and 30s,” says Keith Banting, a professor at Queen’s University in Ontario. “Populism draws less extensively on anti-immigrant sentiment in Canada than it does almost anywhere else.” Indeed, Poilievre’s biggest focus is cost-of-living issues — blaming ordinary people’s economic pain on high taxes and big government. His signature proposals are repealing Trudeau’s carbon tax, cutting spending to fight inflation, and removing restrictions on housing construction.

[...]

Poilievre’s “plutocratic populism”

While Poilievre is a very Canadian figure, fitting solidly into the right-wing prairie populist tradition, his politics also have a lot in common with a concept developed for the United States: political scientists Jacob Hacker and Paul Pierson’s “plutocratic populism.” In their book Let Them Eat Tweets, Hacker and Pierson argue that the Republican Party uses culture war as a vehicle to attract popular support for a party that primarily caters to the interests of the rich. This strategy of “exploiting white identity to defend wealth inequality” allowed Trump’s GOP to attract downscale, non-college-educated voters without abandoning its core commitment to tax cuts and deregulation.

But in the United States, the populists ate the plutocrats. Trump’s anti-democratic instability and economic heterodoxy on issues like trade led some GOP billionaires, like the Koch family, to try and unseat him in the 2024 primary. They failed miserably and now are slinking back. In the Republican Party, MAGA is calling the shots. Poilievre, by contrast, keeps his populism within plutocrat-acceptable bounds. His rhetorical gestures toward the working class are paired with solidly pro-rich policy views and a distinct absence of attacks on the democratic system itself. In 2013, he claimed to be “the first federal politician to make a dedicated push” toward imposing US-style right-to-work laws in Canada. He has endorsed tax cuts for the rich and cuts to social spending. His trade policy is far more free-market than Trump’s. There are no signs that he would challenge the legitimacy of Canadian elections, let alone stage a January 6-style insurrection.

Vox reports on Conservative Party of Canada leader Pierre Poilievre's brand of right-wing populism is tamer than Donald Trump, Viktor Orbán, or Marine Le Pen's.

[scramble-crossing]

i deffo agree with your entire analysis (including the questionable canon of the anime canon) and yeah for sure the original game supports this imo. for one thing i don't think that hanekoma would have supported sho even as a back-up plan if he thought that sho would've destroyed shibuya or fundamentally ruined what HANEKOMA liked about it. hanekoma considered a shibuya under sho to be better than a shibuya erased by joshua, so whatever shibuya sho would've made couldn't have been a dumpsterfire or whatever. like not saying that sho would've kept things squeaky clean or something but hanekoma considered it 'good enough to support'. hanekoma isn't exactly the best but i think that he wouldn't have picked sho if he didn't think that sho had some attachment to shibuya.

in NEO we literally see him come back to his shibuya on W3D7 to fight soul pulvis even though he could've just fucked off. yeah we have the scene of neku "convincing" him, but the dude already came back to shibuya and decided to stay to fight for his city. he also literally warned rindo about soul pulvis and about the presence of angels (the japanese version with him talking about "hyper-real" numbers is even more obvious) back on W3D4 even before neku showed up!

the wicked twisters and all of shibuya would've lost without him and his contribution to operation: awakening. period. (along with everyone else)

he learned his lesson about teamwork! when he goes to another day, he makes a fuss about "you're joining MY team" but he actively walked up to the guy signing up team members and went "hey i need a team lol" like a student asking their teacher for help getting a partner for the group project. he's gone from "not a social animal" per megumi to "zetta dig[ing]" konishi's "style" to teaming up with the WTs to protect them to understanding the value of working together in an equation for the sake of his goals

also it's worth noting that the line about only doing it for his sake is slightly different in jp. neku says that they have to get to shiba as soon as they can and says "渋谷を守るため もし力を 貸してくれるなら――" (if you can lend us your strength to protect shibuya). sho interrupts him and says, "フン、俺は 俺の目的のために 動くだけだ" (hmph, i only work for my own goals/i do want what i want) basically, telling neku to stop telling him what to do. neku says, "それでいいよ おまえも渋谷を 狙ってただろ" (that's fine, since you're aiming for shibuya too, aren't you?) and then "その渋谷の崩壊は 許せないよな" (shibuya's erase would be unforgivable, right?/you can't allow shibuya to collapse, can you?). so like yeah it's similar to what the english script did but it has a very different implication. here neku isn't convincing him to help but rather being like, "yeah, you'll only do what you want to do, and i know that you're going to do things that help shibuya because you're aiming for it as well." like i said, we literally see sho ALREADY have been offering rindo helpful advice before neku even showed up.

he gives the WTs tons of advice in the first week that have nothing to do with his interest in soul pulvis but rather to expand their powers. in field walk rpg he has a ton of random character dialogue about how he loves random shit in shibuya like the holographic hachiko statue (tokyu plaza) because he thinks that dogs are stylin' or how he thinks that rhythms that shake the heart (specific to him being interested in picking up music records from tower records) are as beautiful as a flawless equation or whatever. why would he want to destroy all of that? he wouldn't

he doesn't even care if other people cart away his artworks! he didn't seethe about that in the og, just made more and then walked away

i agree with him being obsessed with beauty and art and probably shibuya's. i mean the guy wanders around the phone booth of love at molco and shit trying to pick up cool pieces for his next artwork (and leaving something precious of his own in its wake, suggesting that he isn't interested in stealing shit, he just has a unique value system of exchanging items and art and stuff), makes people play Tin Pin Slammer and doesn't even participate himself but just hangs out in the crowd watching and seethes when joshua cheats him out of an interesting match, and possibly even stuck negative noise on ken doi to catch their attention about ramen given that the negative noise in W1 was all mission-related that a reaper must've put on someone (and with their relationship in another day). he's not a "good person" but people treating him like he's evil or sadistic or whatever just pisses me off. he's an arrogant asshole who, as far as we can read from the text, genuinely wants to see a shibuya full of cool art projects and sick murals like the udagawa one he likes and cool people like the WTs with their interesting UG powers and stuff.

ok thanks for listening to my essay. 3.1415926

Hey there.....it's been a couple months and I live in shame

Thank you so so much for this I absolutely LOVE your thoughts! I wanna try to respond them in as organized a way I can so I'm gonna address each point individually and in chronological order.

First of all, I 100% agree with what you've said about Hanekoma. If he wasn't able to directly remove Joshua from power even when he threatened Shibuya's very existence, and instead had to approach him in an extremely tedious and roundabout manner by guiding Neku when he could and using Sho as a sort of half-proxy, there's no way he would've shoved a dangerous or otherwise incompetent person into the Composer's seat and forced himself to repeat this whole process weeks later once Sho had a grip on Shibuya. Like you said, "hanekoma considered a shibuya under sho to be better than a shibuya erased by joshua," and that means something coming from a person who belongs to a class of beings who willingly "purify" cities that do not live up to their standards. It's not impossible to think that if Hanekoma thought Sho unfit and saw no other alternative, he would've come to see Shibuya as a lost cause and let it fall, preferring a dignified end over allowing it to rot and fester as a shell of its former self. Granted, he doesn't exactly sing Sho's praises. He certainly seems to view him as being convenient over an actual good candidate for the position. However, regardless of the fact that Hanekoma's criteria seems to be "the biggest, most unlikable freak in the UG," I think my previous point still stands. Would Sho have been a good Composer? Impossible to know for sure, but if nothing else we can extrapolate from what we understand of Hanekoma's values that he would've at the very least safeguarded Shibuya against erasure and kept it intact enough to still be worthy of existence in the eyes of some very, very picky Angels. And this is saying something when Joshua refers to Shibuya as being a massive influence on the world around it, so much so that he fears it corrupting other sectors of the UG. To put it simply, maybe Sho just passed the bar when it came to Hanekoma's standards, but that bar was set extremely high. Also! Just in case anyone mentions it, while Hanekoma saying that he relied on Sho's attachment to Shibuya is exclusive to the anime, technically speaking it's canonical that NEO is a sequel to the anime rather than the game. It's still very much relevant to Sho's character in NEO, if not his character in the original game...

Which leads right into your next points! Just for a moment, I want to jump to what you said about the japanese version of the game because I find it extremely interesting. That's SUCH a different implication from what we get in the english version!! Whereas we're given more of a sense that Neku is corralling Sho into working with him and the rest of the Wicked Twisters on the basis that he can't be Composer without a city to rule, basically using his preexisting goal to try to get him to adopt a new one, that of saving Shibuya, here he's saying that he knows that Sho already has a goal of saving Shibuya. It's less "Look here asshole, you have to save Shibuya because you can't be Composer without it," and more "You and I both know that you want to save Shibuya, so stop being so stubborn and help us out already!" Yes it's subtle, but personally I think it lines up better with the version of Sho that's put forward by the anime's ending, and, perhaps more importantly, lends better to interpretations of Sho's motivations In english, it reads closer to "Sho wants to be the Composer -> therefore he must save Shibuya. In japanese, it can more easily be read as "Sho wants to save Shibuya -> Ergo, he clearly cares about Shibuya -> Sho wants to be the Composer because he cares about Shibuya. Again, it's minor stuff, but the japanese version, I feel, more obviously connects his motives with his actions, presenting him helping to save Shibuya as a natural result of his affection for the city instead of it being an obstacle in his way or a diversion from his ambitions. It's really a shame that this nuance is lost in the english version. Sho is already kind of a mess in the fact that it can be difficult to discern what the writers are trying to do with him. He's built up as a persistent and deadly threat all throughout twewy only to be unceremoniously killed off in a scene that feels more like a bit than an actual serious story beat. Neo's promotional material paraded him as a core character in the protagonist's group, and yet he ends up being booted out 1/3 of the way into the story and made unplayable until post-game. He is one of the most integral characters to the plot, and yet what, in the end, does he have to show for it? Nothing! He leaves the secret ending having returned to the exact same position he was in at the start of the first game, at the exact same level of power, still gunning to take on the Composer. It feels like he's being used as sequel-bait in a series where it took 14 years to make another game, not to mention the fact that the last time something interesting was implied to be happening to him, A.K.A A New Day where he was positioned to become Neku's partner, that plot thread was dropped hard and absolutely nothing came of it. I'm not saying he's been completely abandoned by the narrative. He's definitely shown to have improved as a person since the events of the first game, and I love that! I love his cryptic mentor/moderately shit big brother arc and the fact that Neku, Mr. Twewy himself, is willing to put his faith in him. But to me at least it feels like he's being underutilized, especially in comparison to characters like Beat, who I love, but who certainly didn't need as much as he got in neo given that he had a totally satisfactory arc by the end of the first twewy. Sho is perfect for a redemption arc that's reminiscent of Neku's while still being unique and complex, one that would fit seamlessly with twewy's themes of growth and the necessity of human connection. If we ever get another twewy game and this is exactly what happens I will kiss neo on the lips for being the PERFECT in-between phase and kick-off for this arc, but I mean...it's twewy. Waiting for another game to complete his storyline is like pushing Sho off a cliff with nothing to catch him but a prayer and the world's shittiest little kiddy pool. Also the hose that's trying to fill it with water is clogged by a giant knot in the shape of mickey mouse ears.

But I've gotten sidetracked. Mostly because it's been so long that I totally forget the post that spurred this ask in the first place. I might be stupid. But honestly I think you've already put it perfectly. I'm especially grateful for the info on the field walk rpg because it's something I know very little about. I'm glad Sho got to have a fun day out with his child soldiers/teenage besties :] Overall, it's absolutely true that Sho is a very morally complex character. I tend to dislike labels like "good person" vs "bad person" because it leaves little room for nuance, something that this series is chock-block full of. The idea that Sho is an utterly selfish and sadistic individual who can never truly change irks me because it's so antithetical to the messages of this series, "Anyone can change for the better," and, "By letting others in, approaching their different worldviews and values with genuine, good faith, and by extending compassion towards each other, we make the world a better place for both ourselves and the people around us." Sho is doing this. It may be with baby steps, but it's clear from his interactions with the Wicked Twisters, as well as his enthusiasm for art that is not his own whereas before he expressed disdain for any artistic vision that wasn't his, that he is making an effort to be better and allowing these experiences to change his worldview. If he is never extended the same narrative reward that other characters are shown for this exact same kind of growth, if he is instead trapped in this cycle of scratching and clawing and desperately yearning for some sense of divinity only to crash fantastically, met with violence and isolation and the loss of the few, good things he's managed to scrape out of life...well that'd be pretty miserable, I think.

[a-writer-that-never-writes]

The Starline Heist

“Hand me the halfdiamond,” said Ebby.

Nik pulled the pick from the small pouch and handed it to him, “One of these day’s you’re gonna have to show me how you do it.”

“Fat chance,” grunted Ebby, “Damn, didn’t anyone teach these idiots how to oil a lock, I’m surprised this thing hasn’t seized up on them yet.”

“They probably think it’s safer for it to stick a little.”

“Give me a hammer and I’d have this thing off in too whacks, it’s rusted right through I tell ya.”

“Too loud,” sighed Nik, “It’s a nice idea though, I wouldn’t mind taking a hammer or maybe even a torch to this building.”

“We’ll torch them in court once we get those papers. Ahha, got it,” Ebby crackled with glee as the lock popped loose, “Your turn Niki old pal!”

Nik gently pried the front plate off the badge reader and looked at the tangle of wires inside, “Hmmm, I see why they used a physical lock, the print scanner on this thing is fried, anyone with a badge and code could just waltz right in.”

Ebby grinned, “Don’t suppose you have the badge and code do you?”

“Not yet actually, my contact wanted an exorbitant amount for them.” Nik fiddled with the wires, “that ought to work,” they held up a pair of white cards to the reader, “here,” they handed one to Ebby, “should get you through most doors.”

Nik quickly punched in a fake code, “one, two, three, four. Think you can remember that old man?”

Ebby shoved the card in his shirt pocket, “I got your number all right Niki boy, got a cloak for me?”

Nik pulled two lengths of fabric from their backpack, “here ya go, make sure not to stand still for too long or the AI will pick up on it.”

They each ducked under their own cloaks, adjusting them to ensure everything was well hidden.

“Here we go,” Nik opened the door and the two quickly slipped inside.  

The hall lights blinked on, “crap,” muttered Ebby.

“Hush, they’re old laser-style motion sensors, if the AI had seen us the alarms would already be blaring, so lets move quick.”

They headed down the hallway past several doors before Nik stopped, “here it is, Security Operations Center. Should be able to get everything we need from here.”

“That looks like a retina scanner,” Ebby said doubtfully.

Nik slowly pried the scanner away from the wall, “I can bypass it, it’s an older model…” they fell silent as they carefully rewired the machines' innards.  “Try badging in now.”

The door obediently unlocked as Ebby tapped his badge on the small reader and typed in the simple code.

The security center was lined with several rows of desks and even more rows of clear glass monitors.

“Place is like a ghost town,” Ebby muttered as the automatic light’s switched on, “How’d you get em all out of here at the same time?”

“Corporate Christmas party, just worked a little magic on who was scheduled to go and who wasn’t, simple really.”

“It’s all easy for you ain’t it kid,” Ebby was rifling through paper and checking in unlocked drawers, “you think you got it made. Just don’t go getting too cocky, that’s how you end up with a prison sentence longer than the ride to Pluto.”

“I’m sure you’ll keep me in line ol’ man.” Nick smiled. They had slid into a chair and plugged in a small device to the computer there, “Any luck finding the keys?”

“Starting to wonder if I’ll even need them, don’t think anyone taught these boys basic security,” Ebby strode over and dropped a small sticky note in front of Nik, “I believe you owe me a drink though.”

Nik rolled his eyes at the small piece of paper but diligently typed in the username and password written on it, “I’m in,” they grumbled and unplugged the small machine.  “People always take all the fun out of hacking.”

Ebby laughed, “somethings never change.  They’ll come up with a way to pull the password straight from your mind and people will still be writing them down and hiding them under keyboards.”

“They could atleast invent an invisibility cloak small enough to hide em with.”

“Sounds like a great idea, just hope it doesn’t fritz out the first time you look at it wrong.”

“They’ve come a long way, heard they’ve deployed some back on Earth that are almost entirely silent.”

Ebby gave a disbelieving grunt and went back to digging through drawers, pulling out his lockpicks as needed.

“Got us registered with the AI, it shouldn’t sound any alarms now,“ Nik shrugged off the static cloak and looked around for any flashing lights.

“Don’t suppose you set the camera’s on a loop to did ya?” Ebby asked.

Nik gave him a withering look and Ebby reluctantly slid down the hood of his cloak.

“You can never be too careful, alright.”

“How about you let me do my job and you do your’s, unless you’ve already found those keys?”

“Bah, they’ll  be in the last drawer I open, that’s how that always works.”

The two worked in silence for several minutes, interrupted only by Nik’s occasional curses as the computer failed to let them into one program or another.

“Got em,” Ebby said, dusting off his knees as he stood up, “I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.”

“Find us another job as good as this and you’ll have enough money to retire.”

Ebby chuckled, “it’ll be here sooner than you think, Nik. Ready to go get those papers?”

“I’m elevating the access for that badge, tap it here,” Nik motioned to a small card reader, “alright you should be good to go.”

“You’re not coming along?”

“Shouldn’t need me and I’d like to take a poke around their datacenter.”

“Be careful.”

“You too ol’ man, remember these papers aren’t worth getting killed over.”

Ebby nodded and slipped back under his static cloak before heading out into the hall.  Once Nik had confirmed that no alarms were going to go off they headed over to the one other door in the room.  

“Hello, Beautiful,” they said as they badged in and opened the heavy steel door. Heat and noise blasted forth from the cluttered room, “Oh…, Well that explains the slow connections.” The room was filled with two rows of ceiling height metal server racks connected by a jungle of cables and cords.

Nik pulled out their laptop and stepped gingerly through the mess of wires, pausing occasionally to plug a tiny device into an open port.

“Ahah, now you might have something useful,” Nik followed the cables from one server until they found an empty line and plugged it into their laptop, “username and password? Let’s just pretend I’m the admin why don’t we? And we’re in, really, it’s too easy.”

Nik tapped away at the keyboard for several minutes, mumbling to themselves about poor security practices. “It really isn’t my fault they just left the back door wide open is it? Ooo, what’s this file? Oh.” 

Nik sat down hard on the ground.

The door to the security room clicked shut, “You almost done in there?” called Ebby, he poked his head into the server room, “you alright Nik? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Fine,” Nik stuttered, “just found some real interesting data.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’ll, um, show you later, Eb.”

Ebby eyed him curiously, “How much longer you need?”

Nik nodded, “ I just gotta get this stuff downloaded, should only take a few minutes. You go ahead though, I’ll meet you at the usual spot.”

“We’ve done a lot of good work together, yeah Nik?”

Nik hummed their agreement.

“Well I’ll see ya in a bit yeah?” Ebby hesistated, “Don’t wait to long, Nik, I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“Me too.”

Nik slammed the laptop shut and shoved it into their bag as soon as they heard the security center door close.

“What’s your game ol’man?” they muttered to themselves as they weaved back out through the jungle of cables.  They gave a cursory glance at the security monitors to make sure that the coast was clear and then strode out into the hall.

Nik, stopped.  The exit at the end of the hall was open, and just on the other side, lit by the wavering light of a streetlamp was the slumped over body of Ebby. “Shit”

The light outside shifted. 

A shiver ran up Nik’s spine as the gentle click of the door closing was drowned out by the loud thud of heavy machinery. Their eyes darted around the hall, trying to make out the slight shimmer in the air made by the invisibility suit.

“Stay calm,” they muttered to themselves, trying to fight down the urge to turn and run, “you need a plan.”

There was a loud click, as of a gun loading.

Nik dove back into the security room just in time to avoid the gunfire.  They shoved one of the light weight desks against the door.

“Shit, think, Ebby told you all about these damn machines.”

Nik looked hopelessly around the room for anything of use. The machine thudded slowly down the hall.

“What was it he always said about the older machines? You could hear them coming a mile away? Great yeah, well I figured that out on my own.”

Nik backed away from the door till they reached the datacenter.  They grabbed the handle and cursed as it sparked. “These guys are gonna fry their machines.” Nik stared at the handle, tentatively reaching out to touch it again, this time without the spark.

A loud thud outside the door was all the urging Nik needed to put their half formed plan into action.  As their pursuer tried to bash open the locked door Nik yanked a pair of cables haphazardly out of servers and drug them out into the security center.  They did their best to toss them onto either side of the entrance.  As the door crashed open in a burst of splinters Nik shoved the ends of the cables into a power bank and dove behind a set of desks.

Nik held their breath, the suit whirred and clicked as it looked around the room.

“Think you can hide?” said a distorted voice, “think you can outrun me?”

There was a thud as the suit stepped inside the room.  Nik glanced over at the gray wall panel by the door.

“If you come out now I’ll make your death quick, just like I did for your partner.”

There was a crash as a desk was lifted up and tossed across the room.

“I gotta say you got balls, trying to steal from Starline, I respect that, I really do.”

Nik scrambled out of the way as one of the desks came crashing down on their hiding spot.  They could see the wavering light of the invisibility suit only a few yards away.

“Ah there you are”

They carefully stood, their legs shaking, “Why'd you kill the ol’man? It was a good setup. A fake heist. Starline gets the reward for catching another hacker. Somehow I don’t think getting murdered is part of the deal that ol’ Ebenezer struck.”

The disembodied voice laughed, “He said you were smart. But thats the problem with you smart types, always get too cocky for your own good. You’re so easy to fool.”

Nick tried to put desks between them and the machine, slowly inching back towards the door.

“You see I figure that catching both of you will be worth twice the reward. If he'd of had half the brains you do he’d of seen that and backed out on the whole heist.”

Nick bumped into the wall, their hand flung out to a small panel and popped it open. There was a click as the machine's gun reloaded.

“You see the problem with you smart types is sometimes you're too smart for your own good”

Nick flung open the breaker box and flipped the switches, power crackled through the cables and arced up along the invisibility suit lighting it up in a flash of blinding light.

There was a loud pop as the fuses blew and then silence fell on the now dark room. Nik blinked away the after image.

“You forget that older models of invisibility suits were terribly unreliable.  Turns out they’re incredibly difficult to insulate against electricity.”

The back out power kicked on, lighting the room in a somber red. They looked over the large multifaceted machine, it looked more like a misshaped disco ball than the cutting edge of technology.

Nik carefully edged out of the room, looking keenly down the hall for any other potential ambushes. Outside Ebby was slumped in a puddle of his own blood.

“It’s really a shame ol’ man, I liked working with you. I really did.” Nik rolled the corpse over and fished in the pockets till he found the set of lock picks and a tattered wallet, “I guess you’ll be the one buying this round of drinks after all.”

[hypaalicious]

Reclamation Algorithm, aka Passenger gets his lick back

I kinda like writing my opinions on AK side modes no one asked for, even tho this is late asf!

The tutorial for the mode sucks really bad. Skip that shit, nothing they tell you in there is how you’ll actually play 😭 That being said, I’m gonna write this assuming you’ve at least gotten the basic gist of the mode; if I break down every detail this post would be 30 pages long, and uh…

I did not like RA until I was almost done with it, lol. The grind is TERRIBLE in the beginning which is most of the problem.

BUT! I do believe it has promise as long as all the kinks are worked out; RA is def a “beta” mode and it shows. 🥴

Build your base.

This is where the grind will almost murder you. 🥲You can do this by farming for materials in Resource nodes or by cheesing the Construction Grid. If you choose the latter route, what you’ll want to do is do enough in multiple runs to get Construction Points (how many map nodes you visit, constructs you build, raids you defeat, food you make and feed your Operators adds up). Then you quit before your home base gets destroyed, go to the Road of Prosperity and focus on activating the entire second row. That will give you a total of 30 Wood, 15 Stone, and 6 Iron at the start of each run.

Then from there, all you have to do is make a Crabbie Pump, farm enough water to make a barrier or two, place them in your Headquarters, quit the run. Rinse and repeat until you have a nigh-impenetrable fortress.

The things you should focus on crafting for your base:

Firm Platform II

Urban Style Barrier II

Fortification II

Trap Net Launcher II

Level 3 anything isn’t worth the mats. Level 2 is most important for the Barriers as it gives them camouflage. Trap Nets will be your saving grace if you build yourself an Ifrit lane.

Note: due to a bug, any ranged Operator you place on a Firm Platform cannot be healed. But they also will take no damage unless the platform they’re standing on is destroyed. Also, Angelina’s passive can heal your damaged constructs, but only if you have her set on S1.

Don’t have a great mind for path-building? No problem; here’s a basic layout from a Chinese dude on Billibilli to copy:

What this does is force enemies to go the absolute longest way around to get to your HQ. This gives you time to set up your Operators at a choke point to nuke.

Choke point should look (roughly) like this:

2. Hop around nodes.

Once your base layout is built, you can switch to making Monitoring Tower II. Take and place two of those in any node to make it a Sentry that allows you to reveal up to two extra nodes in every direction around the node you’re in. This will open up the map real fast if you plan for it!

The only useless node to waste an Act on is the Conflict Node. I literally only go in them to make them Sentries if they’re in a good spot on the map and exit right out.

3. Only fight Raids at your base.

Intercepting raids in other nodes is risky because you’ll be dealing with weather debuffs and randomized stage layouts. Fight em on your turf.

Note: you can always quit the run before a Construct is destroyed and it’ll be preserved in your next one. Yay!

4. Fast-Redeploys are king.

The only time I used a “real” squad was when I had to defend my HQ in raids, lol! Anything else? I brought Texalt, Yalter, Skadi, Nearlter and that was enough to handle 99% of RA outside of base raids. The 1% are the Mountain Pass and No Man’s Land nodes. For those, I just added Mlynar 😂

5. The Lost Zhayedan boss can be cheesed with Dollkeepers.

His gimmick sucks ass, and he’s just a stat stick 😭 But basically Spalter can trickle him down because switching between forms doesn’t trigger his healing.

Note: Camouflage doesn’t protect you from his retaliation strike even if you’re not blocking him. He straight up is like

6. Can’t trigger certain endings? You may have to discard tokens.

This pissed me off because it’s not intuitive, LOL! You can get the first ending by just surviving past day 12 and beating the last Raid boss. You get the second ending by talking to Old Isin at the market, him mentioning a treasure, then coming across the Treasure Hunter randomly in a stage and picking up a Treasure Map. In order to get the third ending, you have to throw away the tokens you got from the Treasure Hunter (you gotta do this before you start a new run; it resets the storyline this way) and basically avoid talking to Old Isin first. You also have to already have completed Manticore’s side questline.

And when I say randomly? Yeah I mean RNG is gonna have you thinking you fucked up somehow. Pick the wrong dialogue option? Welp gotta wait for another random encounter to try again. Passenger ain’t show up? Keep doing runs and going into random nodes until he decides to Grace you with his presence. It’s just kinda a mess 😭

7. Making food is fun, but also not necessary to win battles unless your squad is severely under-powered.

I beat the first two end bosses without even knowing how to make dishes LMAO! The third I also will say I don’t think I needed them, but I loaded up my squad anyway just in case and I also wanted to see what the dishes actually DID. Now mind you, I’m pretty much running this mode with 6 stars exclusively so YMMV. It’s an end-game side mode in beta no less, so playing RA with an undeveloped roster is going to be a Bad Time.

That being said, after awhile I focused on making dishes for specific core operators just to make things easier. Any dish that decreases SP costs, I gave to my vanguards so I can immediately start printing DP for raid defense. Any dish that reduces redeploy time I gave to Nearlter so I can use her s2 as I believe god intended LOL! The Festive Feast that gives an Operator camouflage and an attack boost, I shoved down Mlynar’s throat so he can just park at those Mountain Pass sentinel constructs and wreck them (and everything else around him) without being targeted.

8. Build the Transregional Communication Station as soon as you are done with your base layout.

Please don’t try and find those elusive invisible “emergency exits” in Conflict Nodes or whatever, it’s a waste of time and doesn’t do what the tutorial claims it does. 😩 Building this construct is what’s gonna allow you to bail on day 9 (or 6 if you upgrade it) with like 15 items if you upgraded the Construction tree well enough. I use this to carry over rare Dishes I made or Monitoring Towers to a new run so I start with a great advantage and don’t have to start from 0 crafting. Once I brought over 15 towers and just opened up the whole map by like day 4 by creating sentries EVERYWHERE I could LOL.

Final notes:

The mode has promise, so if they bring it back later like IS I just hope HG polishes it up. But uh… I actually have no idea who the player is supposed to be in this story LOL! There’s no replay value once you beat all the endings, and there’s no point in going to all the nodes after triggering the events you need unless you just wanna beat enemies up. Base building could be much more fun if they allowed Constructs to be moved around and not just destroyed. Some folks live by creating Support machines to help farm mats faster, but I literally never even bothered with it past the tutorial. Most of the Constructs offered you do not need. Iron shouldn’t be as much of a pain to find/farm as it is. The map previews are so useless idek why they bothered, what’s a big black box gone do for me? 😭

The raids were fun, tho. They’re front loaded as hell but once you get your bottleneck of pain organized it’s simple enough! The exploding spider one I obliterated with ranged units only, the Crystal golem rush I utilized Surtr and just about every medic/healing defender I had in my roster LMAO! Ending bosses were mostly tanked by Hoshi, covered by Shining, and obliterated via Mlynar and Ifrit in the cross fire. Manticore becomes an OP beast due to her token that increases her ASPD for perma slow on S1.

But I will say this: I gotta stan Passenger for literally not giving one shit about what he destroys in order to get his lick back. He played the long game! Don’t ever make an enemy out of that man he ain’t got shit to lose and he’ll make you suffer 😭

[itsdappleagain]

WOOHOO! Let's kick off #csweekly!

I think I'll dump all of my thoughts onto one post as we go along...and I have a lot of thoughts so sorry this is gonna be LONG

Firstly, before I start the episode, AAA I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS!!! I haven't actually truly rewatched CS in sooo long

Okay, let's go. Why don't we ever talk about the intros? Like the grabbing of the hat and then later that as part of the black and white/red intro sequence? MWAH.

Chase's headlights illuminate spots on the screen when they turn towards the "camera!"

I love this introduction to the entire show. It really makes us feel like we're part of this mystery, investigating this thief with Chase and Julia (until...well...everything gets directly told to us via flashbacks 8 minutes in..). It tells us everything we basically need to know about how Carmen operates in like 30 seconds.

Let's take a moment to appreciate the art style of this show....oh my gosh. The lighting the texturing the lineless agh its so good

I guess I haven't thought about it for a little while, but I guess Chase slamming on the breaks is supposed to fake us out thinking that he has seen Carmen's shadow. It sets up how idiotic of a detective he is, while Julia is observant and actually makes connections. I really like this early (VERY early) setup to how their relationship is going to work. However, at the same time, the show is really gunning for us to root for Julia when she starts infodumping. Chase is clearly the asshole. I can't help but wondering, though, if the show undercuts the importance of Julia's research by IMMEDIATELY cutting away to something "more interesting" (Carmen) as soon as she starts talking. What do you think?

I like how Carmen just shoots out of the alleyway and looks at them for a solid minute. She's just like 👁️👁️ i mean we KNOW it doesn't take her that long to use her grappling hook. She was just watching them

LA FEMME ROGUE

Chase's damage of cars starts at not even 2 minutes into the entire show <3

anyway

CARMEN'S DRAMATIC CHARACTER INTRO MY BELOVED <3

ALSO another shoutout to the SCORE OH MY GOD RELEASE AN OST CS TEAM

when you think about it does player's character intro ever seem a little clumsy to you? ooh yeah its player glad to hear he's on board girl you've known him for years girl. girl. he's always on board.

i love player's robots and machines everywhere <3

YEAH SORRY. SCORE AND ANIMATION AGAIN WHEN SHE'S RUNNING ACROSS THE ROOFTOPS. FRAMED BY THE MOON? OUGH

she's so unnecessary <3 you did not have to swing that grappling hook around like a whip but im so glad you did girlie

i adore how her usb is disguised like a lipstick as if subtlety was ever her thing ever. like when on earth would someone catch her in the full red coat and fedora and then be like "oh ok well there's nothing suspicious here other than the grappling hook, hang glider, and taser so I'll let you go ok

PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR LIKE YOU REALLY DONT CARE ABOUT THIS RANDOM OTHER SIGNAL THAT COULD GET YOU KILLED

OUGH THE LIGHTING WHEN SHE'S DROPPING DOWN FROM THE CEILING

just. just move. you could have just moved out of the way

her hat bending upwards when she's listening against the fake atrium <3

i love carmen's jokes about player being a little internet cave troll do we ever get more of those?? i feel like we don't and I wish we did. their dynamic is so fun when its just the two of them, which is like. never again

sorry. gina's vocal fry when she says "job." that is all

the elevator gag is actually so funny

imagine not taking the stairs 5-9 at a time. chase doesn't skip leg day smh

i love the feeling of suspense this safe cracking gives us paired with chase running up to arrest her. its fun because she gets to show off and have a lot of fun with him. but at the same time, we rarely get this feeling of suspense again when it comes to confrontations- only big boss battles like Coach Brunt, Shadow-san, and cold weather

chase used his whole entire face to ram through that door

the bag tightening is so iconic i can only be grateful that she does it again later on in the show

chase: ive never had one run AT me before

does anyone ever hear the sound that chase's hair makes when it gets slicked back? because it is a SQUISH. his hair is. so saturated with gel that his hair SQUISHES

i like how it takes chase a sec when she's reading his name from the badge I like to think he thinks he's just THAT well known of an agent that she knows him

i also like that he just stands there for a sec after she grapples through the ceiling like shit now what

free him

carmen is funny i will give her that. she can also FLY apparently because she' jumping like 25 feet no problem

the grabbing of her hat as she jumps off backwards and the backwards smirk and the oh my god im so gay ok

also julia. and the horror on chase's face dhfas

dark carmen let carmen be mean, hot, and speak other languages more and that is why i want her to come back please

chase what in the goddamn fuck

ever think about how chase landing on this car right now eventually led to julia joining acme because i do

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS CARMEN SANDIEGO (TITLE CARD) (THEME MUSIC). YES BARK BARK OUGSHDFH BARK

see chase can be smart but like that one tumblr post he can be blindingly intelligent for a minute a day and he does not get to choose when that is

CARMEN CHANGING AS THE TRAIN GOES BY INTO HER CIVILIAN OUTFIT IS SOOO ICONIC

chase continuing to ruin the car as he drives along and keeps failing is the funniest fucking thing. the comedic timing of the airbag.

THE DOUBT ON JULIA'S FACE WHEN CHASE CALLS HER "JULIA" AND COMPLIMENTS HER KILLS ME EVERY TIME

driving aggressively, of course

chase is responsible for 85% of carmen's stupid nicknames on the wiki and i love him for that

i think its half funny and half sad that carmen doesn't do anything to defend herself when gray aims the crackle rod at her. its a trend with people she thinks she can trust: she still sees him as her brother, not someone who would kill her, stun her, etc.

i love the dramatic dropping of the bag just because gray esentially gave her the equivalent electric shock of rubbing a balloon against your hair

something i dislike about carmen's character is that whenever it matters carmen is ALWAYS one step ahead of whoever doing whatever. they couldn't have had us start off by seeing her as flawed but competent, cocky but still human by having gray track her here. it would have immediately set VILE up as a real threat. but instead its just the girlboss badass gray is an idiot moment. idk

i like how they had to do the match cut but they also had to make black sheep excited so they just had blacksheep go >:) and then as soon as coach brunt used her vocal cords she went :D !!!!

why is the program only one year is my question

where does coach get all of the phones to dramatically smash

black sheep, at this time knowing full ass well that she has a contraband phone when brunt smashes one: U👄U

she said SNATCH

gray laughs with all of his teeth out

they gave black sheep insecurities about her past with gray solely so they could show us black sheep having those insecurities about her past with gray to gray by black sheep

google says it takes roughly two hours to go from poitiers to paris by train. just a fun fact

hang on why was carmen going to paris by train? they didn't even have indonesia scheduled until she got there. why didn't she take zack and ivy to poitiers?? why was their rendezvous two hours away?? why didn't ivy have ANY TIME AT ALL TO GET ZACK A SNACK?? WHY DIDN'T ZACK HAVE TIME TO GET A SNACK

the biggest nesting doll has some weird inconsistency with the burn design- sometimes its there, sometimes it isn't. i wonder why carmen never ever brings it up though?

little black sheep is so cute

actually though these are some of my least favorite parts- the big long flashbacks. in my opinion, it would have been interesting to find out about carmen's past as we went along...maybe through ivy or something, or just little tidbits. like we'd get some basic information- that she used to be with VILE- but we would uncover the details with the detectives and her team. idk. little me when i first watched this show was SO confused by the flashbacks but then again my comprehension for shit is SO BAD. i literally had no clue what was going on

that nanny just standing by as carmen smears an entire tube of lipstick on the walls

LITTLE CARMEN IS SO CUTE

its very interesting how they wash out black sheep's hair when she's in VILE spaces to fit with the color schemes that are such a prominent part of this show.

little carmen was also an asshole wheeze

THEY ARE D I V I N G OUT OF THE WAY guess they learned from notyourpants guy

girl i dont think your legs are supposed to do that

why is the captain just putting claws up like what were you going to do maul her

the poor captain got the short end of the stick every single time

carmen stole someone's wedding ring so true

the crop top with the overalls is my FAVORITE outfit of black sheep's omg

carmen, like every single other teenager, drew giant eyeballs on her papers

absolutely incredible that carmen who has at this point pressed a few buttons on a phone once knows how to text and call no problem

player, calling random places: what is your full name and address please. well i know your address but what is your full name

ALSO player's room accumulating all that stuff in the years that go by is so cute

can you imagine. player just usually gives out his real name and the only reason he didn't this time was because carmen had a weird ass name

"thats a thing" HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT A HACKER IS

also how does she know what right and wrong is

lets imagine for a second player called some faculty phone line or something and professor maelstrom got this ten year old asking to aid the biggest crime network in the world just because he could and also knew nothing at all

kinda cool that they put in the weird...sewer grate or whatever that carmen later escapes out of in the shot where she's on the beach

maelstrom changes hand positions from when he asks black sheep why she requested an audience (hands clasped with thumbs up and touching) to when he says to enroll (villain steepled fingers) and then he goes back to the first on the wide shot

i admire how organically they introduce the names of all the faculty in this scene

appreciation for "the gurl is fehhahhral"

AND THEN HE GOES BACK TO STEEPLE FINGERS

i enjoy how harsh the lighting is in the faculty room. its just white on the characters

i LOVE rewatching these episodes with the lens of shadowsan's REAL motivations mmmm

i also like how black sheep really thinks about shadowsan's words

MAEL WENT BACK TO THUMBS UP CLASPED HANDS ITS ok whatever

why don't the music notes line up with the faculty raising their hands after two or three sob

where does shadowsan even walk off to. is there a door over there or does he just awkwardly scoot off and through the big doors

what the hell are even in front of black sheep's dorms a tennis court??

also i thought those dorms were where her room was where is she moving from

she tied her whole globe up with rope to walk 100 feet

mime bomb being in the background for all of this <3

i like all of the VILE Class's introductions. EL Topo is kind, Le Chevre is a bit dismissive but courteous, and Tigress is...well she's happy until she says her name and then she's a bitch about everything forever and ever

"but were you seeing things from my point of view" actually what other perspective are you giving him here

get rekt aussie boy

so upset they changed this design. the eyeliner, the fluffy hair, the red hair clip. they're so good. she's so cute. all of the young designs are cute actually

they didn't have to animate sheena's ass swaying like that

he's from australia??? really????

i like how gray was just working the soundboards one day and his pay was so bad that he was like "fuck. yeah man I'm breaking every single law. ever."

where the hell did the black on that sheep origami come from. the paper was white on both sides??

shadowsan has the best damn view on the island look at that

cleo's dress. cleo's voice. cleo's

why do they market as an import/export company if they immediately begin training as thieves. why does "villains international league of evil" matter at all

shadowsan has the only class that uses other students. the rest of the classes are main character only. so sad

my favorite part of carmen sandiego is the way they one moment don't allow the characters to say the word kill but in maelstrom's classroom he has human bones and a whole ass brain on display and then they shoot a man dead

no idea how maelstrom dropped his briefcase so that it landed on the other side of tigress's

also i love how they set up some of the two most used concepts in the entire show here: bait and switch and always protect the face

gray is blind we love him for that. she is holding a phone and gas earbuds in.

where did she get earbuds from

point and laugh

so true of le chevre to kick off the stilts the show should have let him win that one, not bs

the poor captain has gone entirely white-haired from this yearly encounter with a child

rita moreno bee cosplay

el topo's laugh is so genuine <3

what was their detention anyway? sit and talk? come up with codenames? seems more like a reward to me

imagine if gray named himself power failure and everyone called him failure

gray is a giraffe

i love the dig at old witwics with the puns for names jkdsghdsa

le chevre is very comfortable on that pole

mime bomb. that is all

class of vile, after a year of sharing a dorm with mime bomb: who the fuck are you

he's iconic

all of the different teacher rooms are sooo cool i love their designs. and once agains color theory coming through with shadowsan's red room!!!

i also like that students get to take exams with their operative gear, as it plays into how effective they will be in the field. however, what happens if someone doesn't graduate?? what happens to all their specialized gear??

she sacrificed a leg for ass. sad :(

i like how tigress acts like a cat

GET SLAPPED TIGRESS

that scrap of fabric flew SO FAR

that little wink tigress does <3

i like how shadowsan has another coat ready and waiting. who's hurt him in the past. he learned

black sheep no don't walk into the camera wait blacwfhghgfh

gray after black sheep failed so hard that she blew the entire year's worth of schooling: damn girl you're so good. best ever actually

i like how they all have to trace their names over to see if they passed like what are you getting lost on the way also getting these grades is exactly like seeing who got cast for the school musical

rip to the random background ops who failed

gray's face is actually just D:

the dutch angle dolly zoom is SOOO GOOD

tigress is still a high school mean girl. elementary school, even. the big kid's table. no children allowed

"looks like someone needs to turn in their stealth suit" black sheep she/they confirmed and sheena respects pronouns

"COME ON LET'S GO PLOT A CAPER" that is so funny to me because vile operatives as we see later NEVER, EVER PLOT THEIR OWN CAPERS

why is carmen's nose so tiny

anyway

seeing black sheep look so short next to shadowsan is so sweet considering she's almost as tall as him later <3

"are you accusing a criminal, thievery, and breaking the law teacher of cheating"

mime bomb for goodness sake. i love the animation of his face emerging from the shadows though

HOW DID SHE SNEAK ONTO THAT HELICOPTER I WILL NEVER KNOW

does anyone know whether CS uses 3d elements for some of their bigger objects like cars, helicopters, the vault door etc.

i like how vile school is completely entirely out in the open not disguised at all

gray: bye bye black sheep black sheep, from the shadows: HAVE YOU ANY WOOL

THE CREDIT MUSIC <3

OKAY so that was my post on the first episode. will they all be this long? who knows. probably. maybe. i'm so excited for this

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

@avictimofthejazz

While not the most serious injury he has ever received, that prize going to being shot in the head on two different occasions and living to tell the story, breaking his arm is somehow the most annoying injury Michael has ever received. For a man who likes to do everything on his terms, having his dominant arm in a sling is really cramping his style. Now even getting dressed is a chore, and Devon has confined him to the Foundation grounds for the next two weeks. Once that stint in purgatory passes, the doctors will re-evaluate Michael’s injuries and decide if he is fit to return to light duty. Devon had breezily assured him that it would be fine, and he should not complain so much. After all, was Michael not the one always trying to go on vacation? Michael quickly retorted that sitting around with a broken arm was hardly a real vacation. A vacation was when he got to go off and do fun things… not wander around the Foundation for two weeks, and get roped into putting papers in filing cabinets. The other downside of his situation is that basic daily acts, like tying his shoes, have become almost impossible. He is not sure how Bonnie got assigned the role of nurse’s aide (not that he is complaining, of course), but his best idea is either that the mechanic lost a bet, or Devon ordered her to do it since Michael occasionally listened to her… at least more-so then April or some of the other people at the Foundation. While he milked Bonnie’s attention for the first few days, by now he has transitioned into the ‘bored’ stage of recovery, and is itching to hit the road again. He also realizes he really needs to start looking more presentable… otherwise an overly jumpy guard might mistake him for Garthe Knight one evening, and start a security event. While being mistaken for an intruder might give him something new to do, Michael also does not want to be shot by someone assuming he is that creep Garthe. Therefore, getting a proper shave is becoming imperative… and Bonnie is the best woman for the job, despite what she seems to think.

“Come on Bonnie,” He huffs, “Do you really think I’m going to ask Devon to help me? That’d just be embarrassing… and I wouldn’t trust RC3 around my throat with a razor. Now I don’t think he’d kill me, but he does tend to get distracted. The last thing I need are more injuries pairing with this arm of mine!” Plopping himself down on the counter, he studies her as he absently rubs at his sling. “It’s not really that different from any other kind of shaving… and I have dated enough women to know you all have razors on hand too. Just, you know, don’t shave off my eyebrows or something weird.”

The delicate lower-curve of her lower-lip is drawn sheepishly betwixt the brunette's teeth at his goading. Usually poised hands suddenly seem to have adopted the faintest hints of quavering as she eyes his face and then the razor encompassed by her fingers.

Barstow swallows, fearfully. A pang of anxiety echoes in the chamber of her chest when his ENTREATING azures manage to find her more skittish eyes. "Well, no, but--" Her words cut off in shelter of her next breath. The cybernetic tech supposed, that under the circumstances, she WAS his best option; even if Devon WOULD have more experience with this.

Yet, what if she slipped? What if she horribly disfigured him? Or nicked him with the blade? Knight's face is far too alluring to be etch-a-sketched up with bloodied scrapes. "That's what I'm afraid of," she softly confesses. "That I'll hurt you--" She murmurs in confession. Working on humans was far LESS forgiving than operating on the undercarriage of Kitt. There, a few dings and scratches would do relatively little harm. And her hands--- OH- Bonnie glances down at them again briefly, and feels a tinge of shame, for they're abhorrently calloused instead of smooth like Kitt's molecularly bonded shell.

"It's-- its not?" She muses in confusion when Michael insists that it's not entirely different from other forms of shaving. His next commentary causes her to erupt with laughter. "No one would mistake you for Garthe that way, would they?" Picturing him without eye-brows brings another fit of laughter rumbling through her chest, despite her best efforts given towards composure. "I'd have to draw some on with my schematics pen. Depending on my mood, you might end up with angry brows--"

She clears her throat in an effort to steady herself. "Alright. Here goes nothing. And Michael," she breathes out quite patiently, "do hold still." She cautiously instructs, placing the shaving cream down to turn on the spigot to warm water. Once the flow reaches desirable temperature, she works some of the cream into her hands. Using her fingers, she begins to lather up his prickly face. His skin is decidedly warm. So warm, it nearly brings the mechanic to sweat.

Bonnie can't remember the last time she gazed so intently upon his countenance. The close proximity alone is nearly INTOXICATING. "A-- are you still SURE that you want to TRUST me with this?" She asks, having rubbed the foam over his face and down the length of his throat. Her heart BATTERS the side of her rib-cages with a desperation almost UNFELT before as she peers into his all-too-lustrous eyes. The unbidden urge to KISS him stirs inside of her and she STRAINS to cave to the impulse. Knight requires her HELP, not her distraction; no matter how tempting such a distraction could be.