#anyway - in a lot of ways the army is branded into my soul

[odinsblog]

Okay… today was a lil bit rough on ya boy. Bad, but nothing too serious - if this was the worst that 2023 throws at me, I’m winning like a mf. Anyway I smiled when this happened…. I can’t access the “read more” function anymore, so y’all gon need to see the tags

[engeorged]

Obi’s Place

Words - @engeorged

Pictures - @badoobers

I’d only taken the job as a favour for a friend originally. He had a family wedding and a big delivery order came in so I offered to drive the truck for him so he could still go. I’d driven trucks in the army a few years back so I still had my licence. The delivery went really well and I ended up really enjoying it. The long night shifts on my own in the cab driving across the country were really nice. I’ve always liked spending time on my own so it was ideal. I’m Ben by the way, nice to meet you.

After the army I’d tried lots of things, building work, nightclub bouncer, personal trainer, but I’d never last more than a few months in any of them. I guess I don't really like doing what I’m told anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not disruptive or rogue, I just like to do things on my own terms at my own pace. Besides, the physical work was beginning to get harder now I was putting on a little timber. I’m a big guy anyway, 6’5, and thanks to my Scandinavian genes I’m pretty broad shouldered. Being in the army I’d bulked up a lot, bulging muscles everywhere. I was even asked to do some modelling when I came out of the army, for a sports brand, but I’m not a show-off really so it didn’t suit. Now I’m back to being a civilian, the muscle has broadly stayed but it’s now accompanied by a fairly rounded solid belly, which I don't hate. Sitting in a cab eating late probably doesn’t help but I don’t mind too much. Female attention has dried up a fair bit but to be honest the male attention seems to suit me better anyway. I like the way guys look at my belly and muscles and comment on them. Probably something to explore at some point!

Anyway, enough about me, I’m here to tell you what happened to me a few nights ago. I’m sufficiently recovered and I think I need to get it out of my system. I’ve no frame of reference as to how to tell it either as nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Hope it’s ok to tell you? I was doing a run I'd done dozens of times and I was only a few hours away and running a little early. It was 6am in the morning and I was starving. The place I normally stop for breakfast was closed for refurbishment so I was looking out for a diner or some sort. That's when I saw the sign. I’d never noticed it before, which was strange as it was big and illuminated with flood lights. The text was fading and shabby so it must have been there years? The sign pointed to ‘Obi’s All You Can Eat Breakfast’ 300 yards down the road. As I said, I was hungry, so I pulled in! It looked a little run down but as I walked in the door I felt immediately at home. The place was deserted so I found myself a seat. There was no menu on the table but the seat was super comfy and a recliner which I thought was a little weird. That definitely came in handy later!

I didn’t have to wait long but out of nowhere the waiter appeared with his little notebook and pen and asked to take my order. He was quite striking with sharp cheekbones and slender features and a wry smile that seemed to be his resting face. His eyes were sharp and a piercing ice blue and seemed to bury into my soul when I looked at him. It felt like I knew him from somewhere but I couldn't quite work it out. I questioned the lack of menu but then said I wanted the all you can eat breakfast. He wrote in his book, his smile increasing ever so slightly. I asked how it worked and he just said he would return and popped his little book on the table with a card reader. I paid the amount and looked up at him. He really was a beautiful man and looking back I’m pretty sure there was a tiny touch of purple in those eyes but I don’t think I believed it. He looked at me and handed me a pen. He indicated I was to sign the notepad. All he’d written in there was ‘All you can eat’ in beautiful cursive handwriting with silver ink. I thought it was a little extra, but not wanting to look stupid, I signed it. And after I’ve finished telling you the story you’ll probably understand what happened there. But for now let’s just say I was confused. He smiled his smile and left to go to the kitchen.

Normally in a restaurant you can smell food when you go in but this place lacked the olfactory magnificence these places normally have. I looked around trying to find the buffet but there were just more tables. This place was starting to creep me out a little bit but then I began to smell food. The bacon was the first smell but then I started smelling coffee and something baking. My belly immediately began to growl and my hunger began to grow. I’m a big guy so it will come as no surprise to you that I can eat a lot. I was known for it in the army and would regularly be challenged to eating contests with the other cadets. My trick was to finish my own food and then polish off theirs whilst they were sick in the corner! It's why I’m not really surprised the gut has arrived. It was inevitable really.

I didn’t have to wait long before the waiter returned with my food. The plate was enormous. And I mean Enormous with a capital E. If I was sharing it with other people I would have still commented on how much food they brought. I was surprised at the ease at which the waiter was carrying it. It was like it was an empty paper plate! He put it on the table along with a big mug of coffee, a basket of muffins and a huge glass of orange juice. (I know, I know, that’s too much food and not enough hands. What can I say, I was oblivious!)

The food was piled high on the platter. Bacon, sausage, eggs done four ways, beans, a huge bowl of fries for some reason? There was more on the plate but honestly I can’t remember much else! It gets a little hazy from there. I tucked in earnestly, hitting the bacon and sausages first and dipping them in the eggs. The food tasted so amazing I almost forgot where I was. Lost in the huge meal in front of me. I’m not really one for words so I don't know how to describe how the food tasted. The bacon tasted like morning I guess, that's the only way I could describe it. I could have sworn the sausages were the same as my family butchers from when I was a kid, and the eggs nearly made me cry, they tasted just like my Grandma used to make. It must have taken me half an hour to clear it and by the time I was soaking up the last of the juices with some toast, I was stuffed. I could feel my belly pushing into the waistband of my jeans. (I don’t wear a belt! For obvious reasons!) I learnt back and pushed my hand underneath the band and freed my belly a little. If I was at home, I’d have just undone the top button but I wasn’t sure about that in this place. I sat back to finish the coffee and let my stomach settle. To be honest, at that point I thought I’d overdone it a bit. My T-shirt was feeling a little snug and I had the ‘full burps’. You know the ones where you have to blow it out of your lips as you think it helps?

I’d only been sitting back a few minutes when the waiter turned up out of nowhere with a huge stack of pancakes covered in butter and syrup and a full salad bowl full of berries and fruit. He placed them down in front of me and produced a bowl of whipped cream and another pot of coffee. (Yes I know! The waiter's hand to food ratio still didn’t add up!! Hindsight is a bitch right?) I laughed at how much food there was and looked up but he’d gone. Now I don’t want you to judge me. I know I said I thought I’d overdone it already but you have to understand how incredible they looked and smelled. In my defence, I was only planning on eating a few and then I was gonna leave! I think you’ve guessed what happened next? I ate the lot! And they were delicious. Easily the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten. Each mouthful was better than the rest and dispite how full I was feeling I kept eating. I almost didn’t realise I’d finished them until my fork hit the plate and found it empty. A little startled I leant back and the true extent of my fullness hit me. My belly had really blown out and was super hard and bloated. My T-shirt was stretched tightly over it and the full burps were back. I didn’t really care at that point so I pulled my shirt up to have a look. My gut, which is pretty furry, was distended and hard. I must have eaten enough at that meal for a family of six and reader, it showed! The shyness I felt before now gone, I popped the button on my jeans and let it all expand to fullness. Rubbing the tight surface felt so good. I wasn’t sure how I was gonna get back in my cab and keep driving but I knew now was the time to leave.

Getting up out of the chair was hard as I couldn’t really lean forwards.As I was struggling, the waiter appeared and asked me what I was doing, in his sing-song voice. I politely explained I was done and needed to go but he wasn’t having any of it. He put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down to my seat. I don’t know how to describe the push to be honest. He wasn’t a big guy and yet the push was firm enough to move me without being forceful. It was like I didn’t have a choice but to sit down. I’d also not realised that he’d brought more food over. A second platter had appeared full of pastries. There had to be more than a dozen and they were big! There was no way I was eating any more food! He wasn’t going anywhere this time, he was just standing over me with a hand gently on my shoulder. I tried to move but I literally couldn’t. He picked up a pastry with his long fingers and brought it to my mouth. I’m 31 years old and not since I was a toddler have I let anyone feed me so I can’t really explain what happened next but I simply let him feed me the pastries. Bite after bite I chewed and obediently swallowed them all. Each one a different flavour and texture. Chocolate crème filled, orange and lemon, cinnamon flavoured. All perfectly baked. Every pastry disappearing down my throat and pushing my already engorged belly out even further. I could feel my stomach stretching out, the skin getting tighter around the mass of food contained within. My T-shirt was already stretched but it was now starting to feel restrictive.

As I finished the last mouthful, I swallowed and came round a bit. It sort of hit home how much I’d just eaten and how unusual it was I’d allowed a total stranger to feed me like that. As these thoughts were swirling around my head, he just reached down with his spare hand and with one finger began to lift my T-shirt. I swear it pushed out even further as the fabric released my belly. It looked comically huge, like it had been inflated by a hidden hose somewhere. I looked up at him. My T-shirt is now resting on top of my bloated sphere and he just smiles at me. That was the first time I noticed there was something not quite right about this situation. His smile wasn’t quite human. I don’t think I’ve any other way of explaining it. Well, his smile and the fact that without him moving to the kitchen the table was yet again loaded with a huge plate full of waffles covered in syrup and at least a gallon tub of ice cream dumped over the stop.

Now reader, let me pause here. I don’t know who you are or whether you’re researching the supernatural or just plain enjoying how big my gut gets here. But I hope you’re understanding the unreal amount of food I’m currently carrying inside myself. You’re probably desensitised to eating this big if you’re reading this as a gainer story. Those walking balloons in gainer fiction eat tons as if it’s nothing! But this actually happened to me. I ate and ate and ate until my gut looked like an exercise ball. That’s not normal! Go back and count how much food is in me right now. It’s a lot!

Well, on with the story! You know what happened next I’m sure. The brain fog came on me again and I obediently chowed down. Loaded waffle after loaded waffle disappeared into my now enormous gut. His fingers dancing over me and pushing it into my mouth. My belly now uninhibited by the fabric of my T-shirt, now advancing forwards, and inevitably to the sides as well. It was beginning to take on a character of its own. (And maybe a small moon as well?) By the time the plate was empty I could hardly breathe. I was taking in breath but only my rib cage had the ability to go anywhere. My mammoth gut was totally maxed and unmoving. It’s firm surface covered in my stretched furry skin. The zipper on my jeans had given up the fight and was completely down to the base. (It kind of made me wish I’d worn boxers. But what can a guy do!)

The waiter leant over and slid his hand down the side of the chair which promptly reclined. I’d forgotten it was a recliner which really made me jump but the weight of my gut meant I couldn’t really do anything about it. My plaid shirt now falling back and simply framing the swell of my gut. I couldn’t see him any more but I was aware he was doing something. I just took the opportunity to lay there and concentrate on nothing but digesting this mountain of food. After a few minutes I began to feel his cold hands on the underside of my belly. Gently at first but getting firmer as he stroked his way up the peak to the top of the curve. My eyes almost rolled back in my head, it was so good. He rubbed every inch of my distended abdomen with firm unyielding strokes. I could almost feel the food redistributing inside me. Whatever he was doing it was bringing a huge amount of relief from how swollen I had become. I don’t know how long it lasted for but all I know is it was some kind of magic. When he’d finished, I found myself inexplicably feeding not quite full. I tried to look up to see what he was doing and peered over my hefty mound. Already, I could see more food on the table which should have maybe panicked me more than it did. I searched around for the waiter and couldn’t find him, until all of a sudden he appeared next to me. Looking over me with that smile of his. I asked him who he was and why he was doing this to me. And he just smiled and sort of shimmered. He leant down and whispered into my ear. ‘Aren’t you enjoying your breakfast?’ I paused to think about my answer. And friends (because I think of us as friends now you’re reading my story) I had to answer truthfully. Even though this was the single strangest experience of my life, and even though I was currently under the very real threat of bursting right open, I had to nod. I was enjoying myself! He stood up and smiled. Yet again he sort of shimmered and then there were four of him. I know how that sounds and I know what you’re thinking but honestly I can only tell you what I remember. It might have been a hallucination brought on by my gluttony or some sort of glucose high, but in front of me were four identical men all smiling the same smile.

If you’re still reading then I can only apologise for what happens next, I can best describe it as an eating frenzy. In a flash all four of them began feeding me whatever had been placed on the table. In the reclined position I found it easier to lay back and just let it happen. If this was to be my last day on earth then at least the food was good. They didn’t even take it in turns to be honest. There were eight hands everywhere all at once. There wasn’t a moment when someone wasn’t putting some food into my mouth. I’m not even sure I had time to chew half of it. Bacon, waffles, eggs, bread, pastries, biscuits and gravy, random meats. It just kept coming. More and more food sliding down into my now obscenely distended belly. I could feel their hands on my gut massaging and pawing at me. They were all over me, on my sides and middle, on my shoulders and for some reason, on my throat! I think they were massaging the food right into me and it was working. Even though I couldn’t see it I could feel my belly expanding at quite a pace. I don’t know if they fed me for twenty minutes or twenty hours. By the size of me at the end it was probably the latter. As suddenly as it had started, the feeding stopped. The last mouthful of food still in my mouth. It took every last bit of energy I had left to swallow it but I made it. My eyes were closed at this point but I took all my courage and opened one and looked down. What I can only describe as a wall of belly surged up in front of me. My swollen belly had literally tripled in size. It didn’t look like it was mine. It looked like some sort of balloon had rested on me. I had to tentatively lift my hands to touch it to make sure it was actually me. My hands made contact with the sides and it was definitely mine. The skin was totally solid to touch, like the side of my truck. I had eaten enough food to feed my entire barracks back in the army. Whatever the waiter was, he had coaxed a shit ton of food into my now maxed out belly. I lay there, my brain unable to process what had just happened. Within minutes I was asleep in a coma of digestion.

So that’s my story. I have no idea how I got back to my truck, and even less idea as to how I had arrived at the depot and made the delivery. Waking up in there I was basically wedged in the steering column, it had gone down a little bit but not much. I’ve been back down the road where the diner was and there is zero sign of it. No sign, no carpark, no diner. The only thing I have is the little slip of paper from the waiter's notepad with the words ‘All you can eat’ and my own signature in the silvery ink. I don’t really know why I’m telling you this? I don’t know if it’s to validate what happened to me and make it real or if it’s just to see if anyone else has had an experience with one of these guys? Reach out if you’ve got any information. I don’t think I’m mad at him? And if I’m being totally honest with myself, I kind of want to find him again? See if that really was all I could eat!

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Read more with Asters Maze and Santa’s Otto

For the rest of my stories click here

[baki-tiene-un-simp]

Hey, could you please make a scenario qhere musashi meets his S/O by fighting them, for example their S/O was brought from the past and is like and ancient greek that is like some sort of soldier or huntress and when she sees him she gets scarred when he approaches her and she attacks him and somehow knocks him out or does some damage or something,i've been thinking how funny it would be if he had an S/O that was also from another timeline.

Anyways, I adore your works and I would like to see more content from you, I know that you probably have more asks so i'm probably going to hang out with other asks here,take you time and I hope that you're enjoying writting all this things.

I honestly think that you deserve a round of applause, you allways make my day when you post, it's a way for me to cope with my problems.

I'm glad to know that you like my content, really, I have fun writing and knowing that there are people who have fun reading my posts makes me feel rewarded 💕🙌🏻 The idea of a warrior from another time tickled my brain and it's tempting me to create a character, I don't usually specify the gender of the S/O, but this time I want it to be a woman

This was long

Situation: Musashi with an S/O from another era / Musashi con una S/O de otra época.

Musashi Miyamoto.

As soon as the return of Musashi Miyamoto, the most famous samurai of all time, became possible, nothing could stop the Tokugawa from flipping through the history books of the world in search of a specimen that could fight barbarically against the great samurai.

He expected a show worthy of two colossal historical monsters, yet at the same time, something he could control. Then he found him, a Roman gladiator who had taken the position of leader against a slave rebellion that embarrassed the mighty Roman army; Spartacus.

The books raved about how strong he was and how well he developed as a tactician for combat and warfare. They detailed how he had been a fierce opponent who did not fall in death matches no matter how powerful his adversary was, he always ended with Spartacus being crowned champion.

Records show that he died in battle, having humiliated the Roman army for almost three years. Tokugawa is expected, an imposing gladiator was exactly what he wanted.

His surprise was great when he realized that the body that was restored from Spartacus's DNA was that of a woman. Was there some kind of mistake?

The misunderstanding was clarified by one of the workers who were in charge of the experiment to bring the gladiator to life, they explained slowly and after doing a lot of research that the known image of Spartacus was a false image built by the Romans as a last measure to cover up the wound of his proud army.

According to almost forgotten testimonies, Spartacus led a mixed army made up of men, women and children that was a fierce rival to the Roman troops. Also, when Spartacus fled from slavery he took with him a woman who took the role of "lover" to the warrior, however, this is where the story was modified.

The woman who accompanied the supposed gladiator was what they called today Spartacus, the woman they branded as a lover was the deadly gladiator who had crowned herself victorious over and over again in her time. Roman gladiators were not something that had ever been seen, they were simply not frequent. The man known as "Spartacus" is nothing more than the gladiator's own lover who was by her side during the rebellion.

Perhaps women could be gladiators, but it was a shame for the Romans to have been besieged by one for so long and in such a relentless way, that was what led them to hide the truth after Spartacus died in battle.

Tokugawa was more interested now in his new fighter, a woman who defied an empire and was able to rise to glory in the essence of strength he wants among his fighters.

When Sabuko Tokugawa brought the gladiator's soul back to her, her cloned body, she opened her eyes, contrary to what was expected of a bloodthirsty warrior, she was peaceful and curious about what now surrounded her.

She didn't seem to fully understand overly complex statements, but she followed simple commands with no problem; get up, follow me, get dressed or eat. It was much easier to deal with her than they thought.

Also, they managed to understand that she preferred to be called Y/n rather than Spartacus, since this was the name of her deceased lover, not hers.

It took her a while to understand that she couldn't take on the weapon fighters because it wasn't allowed in the arena, but she ended up adjusting and defeating most of them in no time. She was already showing how talented she was barehanded and how she could keep up with Musashi Miyamoto, her final adversary.

In fighting with weapons she was only better, even if they stopped the fight when she was about to mortally wound her opponent by accident, her skill was still impressive.

Tokugawa couldn't contain his emotion, at this rate the great fight that he wanted to see so much only promised to be legendary. He just needed to refine his gladiator a little bit and everything would be more than done.

He escorted her to her room in the Tokugawa estate, promising her that she would have plenty of chances to prove her strength, Y/n was excited about it, however, she stopped dead before reaching her temporary room.

At the end of the hall, Musashi was watching both people, suddenly the tension rose and it was palpable, Tokugawa did not count on the two meetings before their confrontation and for this reason he had asked the fighters to keep Musahi busy until then. Apparently this scenario could not be avoided.

Both historic fighters advanced face to face, without wavering and turning a deaf ear to the words of the old man who was trying to get them to stop and not fit right here.

They stopped facing each other and stared at each other without blinking, the heavy atmosphere would suffocate anyone who tried to get close. Y/n seemed to be the more hostile between the two, while Musashi seemed more intrigued by the imposing person in front of him.

Y/n was the first to walk past, or pretended to, only for a heavy blow to land right on the samurai's head just as he was about to walk away as well. Tokugawa could tell that he saw Musashi lose consciousness before he gathered himself to launch a counterattack before steadying himself from falling to the ground.

The gladiator dodged the katana's cut dangerously heading for her neck by a few inches as she stepped back. Now the two of them were in a fighting stance.

The men under the command of the owner of the clandestine arena rushed to intervene between the two, a confrontation of such magnitude could not be allowed there. Both fighters were surrounded and separated from each other.

"Who is she?" he asked, as the Tokugawa men escorted the woman away from the legendary samurai, he didn't seem particularly threatening or desperate to go after her for a fight, rather, he seemed interested.

The encounters between the two continued in this way, with Y/n being terribly hostile because she could sense that he was dangerous and Musashi appearing in front of her at will in order to interact with her. Due to this Tokugawa has had to equip his men with precise orders to avoid any disturbance before the fight that he has prepared so much.

After completing the adaptation and training of both fighters, the fight finally came.

It would take place in the clandestine arena, presented as the fight between two titans of ancient history, two deadly fighters who marked their name in the sky to prove their strength.

They could finally fight, finally Y/n would be able to let go of all her hostility against the man and Musashi would be able to experience first hand the power of the imposing woman who had drawn so much attention to him. With this, the most anticipated fight began to the delight of all present.

Versión en español.

Musashi Miyamoto.

Tan pronto como el regreso de Musashi Miyamoto, el samurái más famoso de todos los tiempos, fue posible nada pudo detener a Tokugawa para ojear los libros de historia de todo el mundo en busca de un espécimen que pueda luchar barbáricamente contra el gran samurái.

Esperaba un espectáculo digno de dos colosales monstruos históricos, sin embargo, que al mismo tiempo sea algo que pueda controlar. Entonces lo encontró, un gladiador romano que se había hecho con el puesto de líder frente a una rebelión de esclavos que puso en aprietos al poderoso ejército romano; Espartaco.

Los libros hablaban maravillas sobre lo fuerte que era y lo bien que se desarrolló como estratega para el combate y para la guerra. Detallaban como había sido un contrincante feroz que no caían en los combates a muerte por muy poderoso que sea su adversario, siempre terminaba con Espartaco coronándose como campeón.

Los registros mostraban que murió en batalla, después de haber humillado por casi tres años al ejército romano. Tokugawa está expectante, un imponente gladiador era exactamente lo que quería.

Grande fue su sorpresa cuando se dio cuenta de que el cuerpo que se restauró del ADN de Espartaco era el de una mujer, ¿había alguna clase de error?

El malentendido fue aclarado por uno de los trabajadores que se encontraba al frente del experimento para traer a la vida al gladiador, explico pausadamente y tras investigar bastante que la imagen que se conoce de Espartaco era una imagen falsa construida por los romanos como última medida para encubrir la herida de su orgulloso ejército.

Según testimonios casi olvidados, Espartaco lidero un ejército mixto conformado por hombres, mujeres y niños que fue un fiero rival para las tropas romanas. Además, cuando Espartaco huyo de la esclavitud se llevó consigo a una mujer que tomo el papel de "amante" del guerrero, sin embargo, aquí es donde la historia fue modificada.

La mujer que acompañaba al supuesto gladiador era la que hoy llamaban Espartaco, la mujer que tildaron de amante era la mortal gladiadora que se había coronado una y otra vez como vencedora en su época. Las gladiadoras romanas no era algo que jamás se haya visto, simplemente no eran frecuentes. El hombre que se conoce como "Espartaco" no es nada más que el propio amante de la gladiadora que estuvo a su lado durante la rebelión.

Quizá las mujeres podían ser gladiadoras, pero era una vergüenza para los romanos el haber sido asediados por una durante tanto tiempo y de una forma tan implacable, eso fue lo que los llevo a ocultar la verdad después de que Espartaco haya muerto en batalla.

Tokugawa estaba más interesado ahora por su nueva luchadora, una mujer que desafío a un imperio y pudo alzarse gloriosamente es la esencia de fuerza que quiere entre sus luchadores.

Cuando Sabuko Tokugawa trajo de vuelta el alma de la gladiadora a su cuerpo clonado ella abrió los ojos, contrario a lo que se esperaba de una guerrera sanguinaria, fue pacífica y curiosa por lo que ahora la rodeaba.

No parecía comprender completamente enunciados demasiado complejos, pero seguía órdenes sencillas sin problemas; levántate, sígueme, vístete o come. Era mucho más fácil tratar con ella de lo que se pensaba.

También, lograron entender que prefería ser llamada T/n antes que Espartaco, puesto que este era el nombre de su amante fallecido, no el suyo.

Le tomo un tiempo entender que no podría enfrentarse a los luchadores con armas porque no estaba permitido en la arena, pero termino adaptándose y derrotando a la mayoría de ellos en poco tiempo. Ya estaba dejando ver lo talentosa que era a manos limpias y como podría seguirle el ritmo a Musashi Miyamoto, su adversario final.

En las luchas con armas solo fue mejor, si bien, paraban la pelean cuando estaba a punto de herir mortalmente a su adversario por accidente, seguía siendo impresionante su habilidad.

Tokugawa no podía contener su emoción, a este paso la grandiosa pelea que tanto deseaba ver solo prometía ser legendaria. Solo necesitaba refinar un poco más a su gladiadora y todo estaría más que listo.

La escolto a su habitación en la propiedad Tokugawa prometiéndole que tendría muchas oportunidades para demostrar su fuerza, T/n estuvo emocionada por ello, sin embargo, se paró en seco antes de llegar a su habitación temporal.

Al final del pasillo se encontraba Musashi observando a ambas personas, de pronto la tensión se elevó y era palpable, Tokugawa no contaba que ambos se encontraran antes de su enfrentamiento y por lo mismo le había pedido a los luchadores que mantuvieran a Musashi ocupado hasta entonces. Al parecer este escenario no se podía evitar.

Ambos luchadores históricos avanzaron frente a frente, sin flaquear y haciendo oídos sordos a las palabras del anciano que trataba que se detuvieran y no pelearan justo aquí.

Se detuvieron uno frente al otro y se devolvieron la mirada sin pestañear, el ambiente pesado asfixiaría a cualquier que intente acercarse. T/n parecía ser la más hostil entre los dos, mientras que Musashi parecía más intrigado por la imponente persona frente a él.

T/n fue la primera en pasar de largo, o aparento hacerlo, solo para que un fuerte golpe conectara justo en la cabeza del samurái justo cuando este se disponía a alejarse también. Tokugawa podía asegurar que vio a Musashi perder el conocimiento antes de que se recompusiera para lanzar un contraataque antes de estabilizar su postura para no caer al suelo.

La gladiadora esquivo el corte de la catana que se dirigía peligrosamente a su cuello por unos pocos centímetros cuando retrocedió. Ahora los dos estaban en posición de pelea.

Los hombres bajo el mando del propietario de la arena clandestina se apresuraron a intervenir entre ambos, no se podía permitir un enfrentamiento de tal magnitud allí. Ambos luchadores fueron rodeados y separados del otro.

"¿Quién es?" pregunto cuando los hombres de Tokugawa escoltaron a la mujer lejos del legendario samurái, no parecía particularmente amenazante o desesperado por ir tras ella para pelear, más bien, parecía interesado.

Los encuentros entre ambos siguieron de esa forma, con T/n siendo terriblemente hostil porque podía sentir que él era peligroso y Musashi que aparecía frente a ella a voluntad con tal de interactuar con ella. Debido a esto Tokugawa ha tenido que equipar a sus hombres con órdenes precisas para evitar cualquier disturbio antes de la pelea que tanto ha preparado.

Tras finalizar la adaptación y entrenamiento de ambos luchadores, la pelea por fin llego.

Tendría lugar en la arena clandestina, presentada como la pelea entre dos titanes de la historia antigua, dos luchadores mortales que marcaron su nombre en el cielo para demostrar su fuerza.

Finalmente podrían pelear, finalmente T/n podría dejar ir toda su hostilidad contra el hombre y Musashi podrá probar de primera mano el poder de la imponente mujer que tanto llamaba su atención. Con ello, la pelea más esperada comenzó para el deleite de todos los presentes.

[creoterative]

Since I wrote one for the Ericson Kids in kindergarten, I decided to write one with the Ericson Kids in their final classes. And I will shamelessly take quotes from my fellow classmembers from two years ago, because I got a whole book full of them.

(....they are not copyrighted, right?)

Anyway, let's get it started xD

PS: I apologize for my english in this by the way, it was quite hard to transalte this...

Mitch: "You can say what you want, but Mr. Craig is Caesar's reanimated corspe."

---

Ms. Martin: "You know what it's like, being burried alive?"

---

Ms. Elliot: "Well, I got a flu-vaccine yesterday and now I can't lift my left arm."

Louis: "Just stand in front of the mirror, then you'll think it's right and you can lift it again!"

---

Brody: "Fluffyness is the Alpha and Omega."

---

Ms. Martin: "Louis, the barn's on fire and the pigs are screaming."

---

Ms. Elliot, writes 'Art + X = Nature' on the board: Now, who's good at math and can explain this?"

Aasim: "X equals Nature minus Art."

Ms. Elliot: "...I never was good at math, no idea what X even means."

---

Louis: "Well, Marlon's at his entrance exam for the army."

Mr. Craig: "The army?! Oh no, we gotta stop him. Marlon's a guy who likes to take calm walks in the park!"

Mitch, snickering in the back: "Oh he's walking alright!"

---

In spanish

Ms. Elliot: "Sorry, but I can't call you 'chicas' since Mitch is here too."

Mitch: "Call me chupacabra, I don't understand a thing."

---

Louis: "Uhm, Mr. Craig, I was looking at the schedule and it says here, that we're watching a movie!"

---

Ms. Elliot: "Why are you so on edge today?"

Sophie: "My little brother just called. He wanted to know how to put a pizza in the oven."

---

Marlon: "Which brand of tractor did americans use at that time?"

Louis, whispering: "John Deere."

Mr. Craig: "That was John Deere."

Marlon, whispering: "How the fuck do you know that???"

---

Willy: "I thought the test was fair, but I still fucked it up."

Mr. Craig: "Well, you gotta keep the traditions, right?"

---

Group assignment, the kids are sitting in the cafeteria, Mr. Craig wants them to open the window real quick

Marlon: "Louis, put your hand down, don't open him or he can touch us!"

---

Violet: "What was Jesus?"

Ruby: "...jewish?"

Violet: "Yeah, but was he catholic or protestant?"

---

Louis: "Nowadays, people are discussing, if pictures of god-"

Ms. Elliot: "You could've written that it's of particular relevance."

Louis: "I wanted to keep it realistic."

---

15:40, Mitch is too late for class

Mitch: "Sorry, I overslept."

---

Mr. Craig: "And those were the disadvantages of the Great Depression."

Clementine: "But there has to be someone who profited from it?"

Violet: "Mother Courage and her Children."

---

Mr. Craig, in chemistry: "You know what to do if I catch fire, right?"

Willy: "Yeah, kick it out."

---

Marlon: "By the way, who parked their car so close to mine?"

Aasim: "That's what you get for parking like a drunkard."

Marlon: "I'd say the same, if I'd drive to school with a fucking kids scooter every day."

---

Louis: "I like movies that challenge me."

Marlon: "Dude, we watched Ice Age last time."

Louis: "Yeah, climate and stuff."

---

Mr. Wróbel: "Oh, and you'll have to calculate crooked curves."

Brody: "Are there straight curves, too???"

---

Ms. Martin: "And you didn't get infected? Did you have close contact with each other?"

Brody: "Yeah, pretty close."

Marlon: "Can't get much closer than that."

---

Brody: "Is the exam gonna be a lot to handle?"

Mr. Wróbel: "Nah, just about 3 grams."

---

Violet: "What do you guys need 500 facebook friends for anyway? Jesus only had 12 friends and even they had an asshole!"

---

Sophie: "What do I do if I can't do math?"

Clementine: "You sell your soul."

---

Minnie: "Are polar bears extinct?"

Louis: "I wanna look at this from a philosophical point of view. Knut the polar bear is dead, and with that, everything relevant of this species is already gone."

---

Mr. Craig: "The fitness increases with the length of their tailfeathers."

Marlon: "Just as it should be."

Mitch: *gives him a high five*

---

Ms. Elliot: "How do they get their colours then?"

Sophie: "Huh, I thought they were made by plants?"

Violet: "Soph, I don't think that moth goes somewhere to mix them first."

---

Marlon: "There's one time in your life, that you make cider yourself, and then you do all the work and it tastes like shit anyway."

---

Ruby: "Guys, can someone please explain what Tesla is?"

Clementine:

Violet:

Brody:

Marlon:

Louis:

Mitch:

Aasim: "...Wellll, about that..."

---

Mr. Wróbel: "In the final exams, you won't have the book and especially not your calculator."

Mitch: "So just the cheat sheets."

---

Omar: "We'll get you through this exam, if not, you'll just analyze a cucumber or something."

---

Willy: "We split up as much as we can and one day, we'll rule the world."

Ms. Martin: "Because that's what single-cell organisms do."

---

Louis, trying to help Marlon with his catwalk: "More hips! And faster! Your hips aren't cemented, my good man! More bad bitches vibes! The whole country under your high-heels!"

---

Violet: "Dalmatians are so weird."

Minnie: "Yeah, they're like zebras, but spotted."

---

Mitch: "How can an electric car drive without alcohol?"

---

Marlon: "Guys, guess what, daddy got new assignments for you from our sick granny Ms. Elliot!"

---

Tenn: "Do fish need to hold their breath under water?"

---

Mitch: "Fucking liar... it says Gucci, but it's just Walmart in there."

---

Marlon: "We got 2000 dollars left on our class account, what do we want to do with it?"

Mitch: "Drugs and bitches!"

---

Clementine: "Well, I gotta go!" *leaves through the window and runs on the rooftop*

---

Minnie: "Come on guys, let's just say we didn't know we had class today."

---

School trip to Weimar, Germany

Ms. Elliot: "Please, just be able to communicate tomorrow." *looking at Marlon, Mitch and Louis, who are already on their way to the first bar*

---

Clementine: "Pretty shitty hotel."

Marlon: "Gets better with every beer!"

---

at 1 pm, sitting in the bus with a beer

Mitch: "I'm so looking forward to that potato salad, it will be easy to puke in the evening."

---

Violet: "Well, there's gotta be fuckers in school and that's us."

---

while crossing a statue of Alexander Sergejewitsch Puschkin

Violet: "Isn't that the guy from the vodka?"

---

Mr. Craig: "The park is really nice, if you're interested."

Aasim, in the back: "Oh, go visit Goethe's cemetery, that thing is awesome!"

---

Mitch, throwing in wayyy too many chemicals: "A lot helps a lot."

---

Mr. Craig: "What colour does this have, Louis?"

Louis: "Seven."

---

Ms. Elliot: "I'm looking at so many 'What-the-fuck'-faces right now... n-not that you look ugly, you just look so confused!"

Marlon: "Good save, I was already clenching my second fist."

---

Clementine: "Are you gonna write that down so we can read it, or...?"

Mr. Craig: "When this piece of chalk bounces off you in a few seconds, I hope that it won't hit Ruby."

---

Mitch: "You're really twisting their words, man."

Louis: "Yeah, I'm good at that, I'm born to be a politician."

Clementine: "You got my vote already."

---

Brody: "If they put this in the final exam, I'm gonna hug Ms. Elliot."

Mitch: "And I'm gonna shoot her."

---

Brody: "Are we gonna have a group study day?"

Violet: "Please no, I'll get the scabies."

---

Mitch: "Oh Lord, just as you paved the way to Jerusalem for the people, so pave the way to the pub for me."

---

Mr. Wróbel: "Sophie, you really have a... creative writing style in math."

Sophie: "Yeah, I write it wrong."

Mr. Wróbel: "Exactly."

---

Ruby: "If that's possible, can we do a sleepover like we did in fifth grade again?"

Ms. Elliot: "Sure, why not. But no alcohol or drugs and no unprotected sex."

Marlon: "But protected is alright?"

[lady-literature]

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are… fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them. 

And they all live happily ever after the end.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Hi! I hope you’ll answer this question bc it bothers me quite a lot.. https://www.quora.com/What-does-it-mean-now-that-BTS-are-partial-owners-of-Big-Hit-Entertainment do you think it is true what the second person (Christine Herman) said? After reading this, i started to wonder…what if BTS does really have only profit in mind while doing new projects these days? Maybe they don’t really care anymore about creative and meaningful lyrics and sound? With Butter and PTD…all this generic music sung in English. Of course they say “we wanted to make fans feel good”, “butter and ptd represent who we are” and all these things fans want to hear but.. do you really think it’s true? moreover, don’t get me wrong, i don’t find product placement in their reality shows as something terrible, i believe this is a normal thing, however, nowadays the members really film ads and do marketing a lot. so yeah, for some reason i began to question their integrity dhsjjss i hope you will understand from where my concerns come from and won’t find this ask stupid sjdjjdjd

After reading that persons answer I can immediately tell you that I basically don't agree with an overwhelming majority of what she said (even more so since a lot of it just makes her sound like a manti that hates the company and basically would want them to make music for free or something). Generally I don’t agree with most of the opinions this person holds, and also Quora really isn’t a good source for info or good opinions, most of it is written by mantis, haters, and toxic shippers with an agenda so most ARMY will tell you to stay as far away from that website as possible.

Anyway, her focus in that answer was on money, since BTS are shareholders (and how that’s a conflict of interest despite other artists doing the exact thing but no one really cares or ever thinks about it), but what she failed to consider and note was that Big Hit Music, so BTS' label, isn't part of HYBE in the sense that shareholding has no baring on it since BHM is private. So while BTS profit off of HYBE doing well, and have a small percentage of a voice as shareholders, that has nothing to do with BHM in the classical sense, even if BHM's earnings reflect well on HYBE numbers and the shareholder money. 

BHM was made private to ensure their artistry would remain untouched, that was the whole point of that.

Even if they weren't HYBE shareholders, take Namjoon as example. He has more than 170 KOMCA credits, is among the top 3 Korean artists with the most credits and is also the youngest of them all. It is said that his earnings from that alone can sustain his family for 3 generations over. Look at Hobi and Chicken Noodle Soup, that song was a hit and he paid the original creator of that song 2 million dollars upfront and earned a lot back due to how successful it was. Same goes for Hope World which, again, was and is still immensely successful. Look at Yoongi and his work both as prod. SUGA, featuring artist SUGA, and as Agust D, as well as the credits he holds for his work on BTS songs (giving him as well a total of over 100 KOMCA credits, just like Hobi). Bangtan have worked and continue to work extremely hard for their music, put their heart and souls into it, and it shows even if their style changed as they grew older and more mature.

Yes, money is a major motivator, but looking at the above paragraph, do you really peg the members as these corrupt money hungry sellouts with no music related integrity? Who would need to sign major deals and would throw away their passion to just release empty shells of music for the sole reason of money? Am I naive enough to believe that they don't care about money? Of course not, we live in a capitalist society and even if BTS wouldn't care about money anymore at this point, HYBE very much does, and yet still I can't find it in me to agree with any of what was said in that answer that person wrote.

More below the cut:

And that point about how Hyundai cars were sold out because of BTS, isn't that the point why literally any company ever hires celebrities to advertise and endorse their product? And sure, again, I'm certain they earned a lot on these deals, they aren't the first or last or only ones in the history of ever to do so. Besides, look at JK and what he's done for small companies, or Tae who wore a brooch made my a small creator at the airport which catapulted that creator into the eyes of millions of ARMYs enough so that they could move to a proper studio and earn money with their work. Or the modern hanboks JK wore which led to the brand being able to move into actual stores in malls because of their sudden new popularity and demand. Or him wearing a bracelet that helps whales with a percentage of the money from the sales of said bracelet. And for all of that JK and Tae didn't earn any money at all. JK himself said that he's more conscious of the brand he wears now because he wants to help smaller businesses in these trying times, not because they pay him to do so (especially since they would never be able to afford that), but because he's aware of the influence he has and how he can use it to help others. Sound very much like a capitalistic villain, right?

As for the product placement bit, have you been on YouTube recently? Have you noticed that many, if not most, YouTube videos by “bigger” creators (and by that I mean even people who are around the 100k subscriber mark) begin with them thanking whoever sponsored that particular video and give you a scripted minute to two minute long ad before getting into the actual topic of the video? And In The SOOP featuring Chilsung Cider, FILA clothes and the random mention of how good Samsung phones are isn’t much different from it, though really, if you’re not someone interested in fashion much, would you really notice or care that they wore FILA? It’s just...clothes? If it weren’t a BTS related show, would you even notice it much? And it’s not even like they mentioned those brands every five minutes or anything, just a few times, which sure sounded a bit out of place at times, but personally I thought it was easy to look past. That’s just how things work nowadays and it’s odd for people to behave like somehow BTS are the first and only ones to use product placements despite literally every movie and show doing it in subtle and less so manners.

The answer by that person you sent also mentioned the Hyundai song for their car IONIQ and, unsurprisingly, that person wrote it off as just some commercial jingle but I’d actually disagree with that. Not to sound like a Hyundai and Samsung stan, which I am neither of, but I actually think those two knew best how to utilize the artist they have spent millions on signing a deal with. Hyundai didn’t just write them off as pretty faces with a millions strong fan army behind them and that’s it, they remembered that they are musicians so they gave them a song and made a whole music video for it as well. And say what you will, it is a good song. Then, just a few days ago, Samsung stepped up their game and we were given Over The Horizon Prod by SUGA of BTS. For those who aren’t Samsung users, Over The Horizon is their signature ringtone and basically their company sound, and over the years different artists were asked to make their own version of it. And this time they reached out to Yoongi and asked if he’d like to do it as well. It’s kind of a big deal. Sure, Butter is used in one of their commercials much the way Dynamite was last year, but that’s beside the point. Would that person make the same claim about Imagine Dragons whose song Believer is also part of the ads for the new Samsung phones? I have my doubts.

Furthermore, and I don't want this to come across as mean toward you but, I think it is uncalled for to question their artistic integrity based on a total of 3 (three) English songs when last year alone we received 50+ songs, most of which were in Korean, among them the entirety of BE which was, according to the members, the album they were most involved in ever when it comes to both music and everything around it.

You can dislike their English songs, that’s more than fine, they have a very extensive discography you can listen to instead, but questioning their integrity based on them doing something that most, if not every, artist on their level does (as in sign ad deals with brands etc) is a bit much if you ask me. Does that mean indie artists whose songs get picked up for commercials (or for Netflix shows or movies) and thus it catapults them into the mainstream are also just money hungry people with no integrity and ones who don’t care about their music? Or is that, again, just a standard Bangtan is held to (as in that their integrity is questioned based on everything, even the most trivial/normal things) that only applies to them and no one else?

In the recent Weverse Magazine article about how Permission to Dance came to be there is a lot of talk about not only that song but also Butter and Dynamite, among the things being discussed and talked about they mentioned how the original lyrics for Butter were much more materialistic but that the members didn't like that so they asked for that to be changed. Likewise the original lyrics for Permission to Dance, as you'd expect from the penmanship of Ed Sheeran, were much more romantic, almost proposal like, which wasn't what the members wanted either so it was, again, adjusted in a way that would fit what they, as well as the A&R team, wanted. While you may not like these songs, they still had a say in them to a certain degree, could say yes or no and ask for adjustments. Why else would PTD take eight months?

While they might outsource their English songs, their main focus, so their Korean (as well as Japanese) discography is still centered around them, their lyrics, their songs, their sound. Of course you’ll also find outside producers and some lyricists on those as well, because that’s how music works these days, as in collaboratively, that doesn’t change anything at large. Their integrity is still very much there, their hearts are still in it, what other reason would any of them have to say that they want to continue for a long time, for Yoongi to say they want to figure out how to make their career last as long as possible, for JK to say that he wants to sing forever?

Admin 2 also wanted me to add that in their opinion, to a certain degree (though not fully of course), their English songs are like a way to laugh at and expose how shallow the English-centric music industry is. As in, while they made music in Korean with deep and meaningful lyrics, the US industry didn’t care but once they switched to easy to listen to sound with easy to understand English lyrics, they suddenly paid attention, are played on the radio, and even received a Grammy nomination which they wouldn’t have gotten for a Korean song ( A1: regardless how much Black Swan or Spring Day really would’ve deserved it...). 

[chamerionwrites]

📓

I love Cassian Andor with all my heart. I also have several brutally honest opinions about him:

1. His dedication to the rebellion is motivated by deep and sincere ideological conviction...and it’s also a coping mechanism for trauma. He has subsumed himself in The Cause because it’s easier for him to process grief and rage about vast galactic injustice than grief and rage about all the ways that Cassian Andor specifically has been wronged. In the film he only ever refers to his personal pain obliquely (“You’re not the only one who lost everything”). Even that spills over through gritted teeth, in the midst of an argument, at the emotional rock-bottom of his character arc. And he pulls back from it almost immediately - literally, he physically retreats from the conversation - to focus again on the political big picture (“Some of us just decided to do something about it”).

“I’ve been in this fight since I was six years old” is just...so full of hurt, and so empty of specific detail, and I have a lot of feelings about that.

Anyway I don’t think this makes his dedication one iota less real, but I do think that unfortunately it stacks the odds in favor of a pretty severe emotional crash when the war that he’s been throwing himself into body and soul ends. In the AU where he lives to see that ending I think this is probably the mental health work of the rest of his life, tbh: learning to negotiate the line between working for a cause (which is a meaningful and admirable part of who he is and how he sees himself) and drowning himself in one.

2. He is exactly the sort of earnest and dedicated revolutionary who ends up being a wee bit too revolutionary for the revolution, once the fighting and sweepingly idealistic declaration-making are over and the government-building starts. In the AU where they survive Scarif I do not see him parting ways with the Alliance on 100% comfortable terms. Based on everything we know about him and about the New Republic I think the best case scenario is that he resigns from intel to do some kind of fulfilling activism/reconstruction work that doesn’t make him hate himself. The less-good but imo not-unlikely scenario is that there’s a repeat of what happens in the film - Local Man Doesn’t Precisely Go Rogue So Much As Continue On The Exact Same Path He’s Been Following While The Powers That Be Waffle - and that however poorly this goes down when one is part of a ragtag volunteer army, it goes down at least 10 times worse when one is a government employee.

TL;DR the premise of this fic is that Cassian sees the end of a war he hoped-but-never-fully-expected to survive and gets sledgehammered by several decades’ worth of compounding trauma at once, set against the backdrop/further psychological and emotional strain of messy New Republic politics. Or: vaguely akin to what you’d get if the final chapters of LOTR were the story, with a heavy side order of me exorcising feelings about space politics. In my head it does have a (more or less) happy ending, it just...takes a while and there are some casualties.

This would be deeply rewarding but emotionally grueling to write, and possibly also to read. It’s also not, imo, the particular brand of emotionally grueling that fandom tends to appreciate? So this story has a vague outline and even a couple of scenes roughly sketched, but as of now it’s one of those fics I really want to have written but not one I’m actively writing.

[tiredcath]

Zukka Fic Recs

after atla came back into pop culture i found myself falling back in love with zukka which resulted in me reading (almost) every zukka fic on ao3 and here are my favorites

Transference by The_Quatermasters (146k)

In a modern AU, Zuko has to deal with settling in a new school after expulsion, dealing with an angry ex and an abusive father. Maybe his new found friendships and growing closeness with Sokka will help him make it through. 

Borderlines by The_Quatermasters (73k)

Three years after the war, the work still isn't quite done and the Gaang is scattered across the continents in their efforts to help the world recover. When Aang and Katara pay visit to the Fire Nation where Zuko is Fire Lord and Sokka acts as Ambassador for the Water Tribe, sparks fly between the siblings over Sokka's life choices.

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster (47k)

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

sirens & sleepless nights by Satirrian (54k)

Life can be pretty hard living in a city under a totalitarian regime. Between adhering to the ridiculous curfew, keeping himself from being gunned down by a passing patrolman, and paying his unnecessary tolls to the state for, say, breathing, Sokka has his hands full just getting to work. Add aiding a resistance group on top of that, and Sokka should really be getting paid for this.

Then, one night, Sokka finds an injured patrolman collapsed in the street, who tells him with blood on his lips, “If the patrol finds me, I’m dead.”

 Real Slow by surveycorpsjean (21k)

“I see.” Zuko closes the scroll. “Is the Water Tribe sending a replacement?”

“Uh yeah,” Sokka gestures to himself dramatically. “You’re looking at him.”

 First by HoneyBadgerMole (20k)

Zuko has been nurturing a crush on the jock in his AP Psych class but he has been too scared to talk to him until they get paired up for a project.

the benefits of getting a flat tire by LesbeanLatte (64k)

Zuko makes an impromptu decision to run away from home after a disturbing conversation with Azula. Unfortunately, some plans are better when they're actually, well, planned. Zuko isn't counting on getting a flat tire almost as soon as he's far enough away from the city to really be in the middle of nowhere.

Sokka is immediately taken with the stranger he and his friends find stranded on the side of the road during an afternoon joy ride. However, he has no idea what he's getting involved with and a kind attempt to help a fellow teen in need turns into a massive coverup for a missing person who just so happens to be the son of the mayor of Ba Sing Se.

Azula was just trying to help her big brother - in her own way - by telling him things she thought he deserved to know. Now the situation has gotten wildly out of control. Did she enjoy seeing Zuko upset and afraid? Of course. Had she intended to endanger his life? Not necessarily, but of course, her idiot brother overreacted to everything and that's what happened and now she doesn't know how to stop the chain of events she's indirectly put in place like dominoes.

Operation Leverage by snowandfire (50k)

Sokka's instincts are onto something great. Zuko just wants to serve tea and brood in peace. Ironically, Toph is the only one who can see what's really going on.

 The Stingray by Smediterranea (24k)

“You’re not carrying me.”

“I don’t mind,” the lifeguard says easily.

“I can just hop over.”

“On sand?”

Zuko will never admit it, but being carried feels pretty nice. The lifeguard sets him down and eyes him warily.

“Are you really all by yourself?” he asks in a worried tone. “No friends in town you can call to check on you?”

“No,” Zuko confirms. Tears are forming again with alarming speed; his foot throbs painfully with every passing second.

“What kind of burrito do you want?”

“You don’t have to —“ Zuko repeats.

“I’m getting al pastor. You like al pastor?”

 AU: Zuko falls for Sokka, the super hot lifeguard who helps him after an unfortunate encounter with a stingray.

 it's the illusion of separation by argentoswan (110k)

Sokka takes a job washing dishes at the new tea shop in town. It's a great gig, until he finds out his only coworker is his old high school bully. Sokka really should quit, but he also really needs to afford rent.

Also, Zuko is kind of hot now.

 People like to think war means something by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once (21k)

Sokka was the first to leave.

Somehow that hurt the most. . . . Not long after Zuko becomes Firelord, forces gather in the South and next thing he knows he's thrown into a civil war with almost no one by his side. Maybe healing is longer and more complicated than it needs to be, but with the right people by your side it is always possible.

 a way that will destroy you by anothermistakemade (14k)

In the wake of Ozai's death, Zuko begins to fall apart. Sokka will do everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen.

-

or, zuko might be losing his mind, but he also might just be really sad & traumatized

 Those Who Favor Fire by CSHfic, VSfic (30k)

After a failed attempt on his life, Sokka fakes his death, dons a disguise, and infiltrates the would-be assassin's ranks in an attempt to bring them down from the inside.

Zuko learns of his husband's tragic death, mourns, and vows revenge.

 Words Mean More at Night by DaisytheDoodleDog (28k)

Even ten years after the end of the war, rebellions rise and risk the balance of the nations. Sokka was willing to do anything to protect his people, which is perhaps why he's leading an army against the rebellion, attacking only as a last result. But Sokka's unwinding, it's taking a toll on him, and the only thing keeping him grounded are the letter Zuko and him exchange late in the night when no one can see the messenger hawks. But as they say, nothing's fair in love and war.

another word for wanting by eurydicees (23k)

Sokka begins to dream of his soulmate when he's eleven years old, and it just gets harder from there. Or, 125 moments soulmates share, and none of them come easy.

(In which your dreams are your soulmate's memories, and Sokka dreams of an all-consuming fire, growing and eating at his soulmate until it burns up the connection between their souls. In which they find love anyways.)

 It Has Only Just Begun by Kirazalea (39k)

There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring

Zuko had now chosen the path his uncle had been trying so hard to show him; he had someone who believed in him, who maybe loved him; he was travelling with the Avatar and they apparently had a plan to end the war. By all accounts, Zuko should be smiling.

But Uncle was gone (captured by Azula, and Zuko didn't think she would kill him, but he didn’t, couldn’t, know for sure). The Avatar was barely breathing (he could still die at any second and there was nothing any of them could do about it). Azula had conquered the last Earth Kingdom stronghold (all those innocent people who were now at her mercy). It seemed like, for every step Zuko took forward, the world sent him back three more.

But he was determined to push forward anyways. He needed to make his uncle proud, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

aka: zuko joins the gaang at the end of season 2

 Nightmares and Reveries by HisMomoness (20k)

Zuko doesn't sleep because when he does, he's haunted by nightmares. Sokka worms his way into a job and makes it his mission to get Zuko to relax. Lots of head pets and one vacation to the South Pole later, Zuko might just be getting the hang of it.

Cue pining, some fluff, and eventual romance.

 The One Who Stopped Time by ohhihoney (66k)

All hope was lost to Zuko until one day, his uncle asked a random person at the Jasmine Dragon to tutor his nephew. Gritting his teeth and embarrassed beyond the point of no return, Zuko gave the blue eyed boy his number.

Little did Zuko know how much Sokka would change his world.

 Rubbed Off Stars by ohhihoney (2k)

Sokka wasn't going to just sit and watch the boy at the back of the bus cry while trying to rub off pride flags off his cheeks.

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

WIP

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (168k)

After that fateful Agni Kai, Ozai makes a different call. Branded as a traitor and banished to a prison camp, Zuko learns how cruel the Fire Nation can be to its citizens. Three years, a water tribe raid, and an unexpected meeting with a gang of over-enthusiastic idealistic children puts Zuko back in the spotlight. The revolution is coming and it wants another poster boy, but Zuko is not willing to lend his face to the cause.

 Another Brother by AvocadoLove (312k)

It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.

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

BONUS : zuko x jet

Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery (122k)

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

[shirtlesssammy]

4x02: Are You There God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester

Then:

Dean Winchester is saved

Now:

Olivia, a hunter, wakes to cold air and flickering lights. She runs for her shotgun just as Bobby leaves a message on her answering machine. 

Her EMF is going nuts as she patrols her house. Suddenly ghosts that she recognizes give her the one two punch and she’s a goner.

At Bobby’s, Dean is vehemently denying that he was “groped by an angel.” Bobby’s got lots of lore on angels, though. It seems they’re the only thing that could pull a human soul from Hell. 

Sam thinks it’s a good thing that Dean was saved “by one of the good guys.” And Dean wonders if there is a God. BABIES. Dean’s having a hard time believing there’s a god out there that personally believes in him. Oh, buddy, he cares just a little too much, I’d say. Dean’s self-loathing is off the charts though. And this is getting way ahead of myself here, but even though Chuck cares in the sense that Dean is a fun little puppet for him, it’s Cas that really cared all along. He believed in Dean so much, he gave up everything for this man. BIG SIGH. 

Dean demands pie before digging into the angel lore.

Sam runs off to forget get the pie, when he sees Ruby lurking. She wants to know if the angel stuff is real. Ruby’s scared for her demon life and takes off.

Sam gets back to Bobby’s in time for all three of them to take off to investigate why Olivia isn’t answering Bobby’s calls. Also, he forgot the pie.

They find Olivia disemboweled on her bedroom floor. And Bobby can’t get a hold of any nearby hunters. They check them out to find everyone dead. 

They need to get back to Bobby’s to regroup.

Sam’s getting gas for the Impala while Dean sleeps. He makes a pitstop in the gas station restroom. The room suddenly gets cold and Victor Henrickson appears!

He blames Sam for his death. He starts to attack Sam but Dean comes in with a save and a shotgun.

Bobby meanwhile is haunted by a couple giggling raggedy twin girls. Fun! 

Sam and Dean race back to Bobby’s. They can’t get a hold of him so they enter his house with shotguns ready. The boys separate and while Dean checks out the upstairs, Sam heads outside. 

Dean runs into the ghost of the woman who was once Meg Masters. 

She blames Dean for her possession...and Dean hates himself enough to actually believe it all. It wasn’t your fault, dude. Also, as much as they’ve learned about demon possession and all, if they would have met Meg at any point in the future, they would have just stabbed her with Ruby’s knife and she’d be dead anyway. Idk, saving people is good in theory, but hard in practice for these guys. I also know this is a manipulation. “Do you know what it’s like to be ridden for a month by pure evil?” HE DOES! Leave him alone! 

Meanwhile, Sam’s trying to find Bobby outside. He’s currently being held down by a couple scary ghost twins. 

Ghost of Meg continues to taunt Dean, and pins her sister’s suicide on him as well. MEG. NO.

Outside, Sam finds Bobby trapped in an old scrap car. He helps break him out and together they swing iron through the ghost girls. 

Dean drags himself away from Meg, and aims his gun at the iron chandelier up above. DAMN BOBBY that’s some fancy light fixture work! The chandelier smokes Meg out...for now. 

Back in Bobby’s living room, they realize that all the ghosts had a brand on their hands. Bobby hauls out the lore and leads the Winchesters down to...dun dun DUN...his safe room. 

We get the grand tour because this is the FIRST TIME WE’VE SEEN IT. This safe room has everything! Iron! Salt! Devil’s traps! Lore! Racy posters! Booze! Weapons! The vanished hopes and dreams of Dean Winchester! A cot complete with restraints! The Winchesters are impressed. 

Later, Dean breaks into a theological monologue while making salt bullets. My sweet sunshine! How dare you speak my love language! “If [God] doesn't exist...fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason - just random, horrible, evil. I get it, okay? I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?” (Because, sweetie, freedom is a length of rope and God LITERALLY wants you to hang yourself with it.)

Bobby finds the brand - it’s the “mark of the witness.” They’re ghosts forced to rise and destroy people. In fact, the Rising of the Witnesses is part of an ancient prophecy. A prophecy of...DOOM. It’s a sign of the apocalypse. Dean suggests coping with a series of wish-fulfillment trips including: Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience, and the Bunny Ranch. Somebody please write me that fic. Instead of Dean’s plan, Bobby suggests running an ancient ritual to shut down the witnesses. To do so, they first have to race out of the panic room to gather ingredients before the ghosts have a chance to yank their insides outside. 

Ronald from the bank heist greets them at the stairs. Bobby blasts away Dean’s guilt ghost for him, and we cut to a montage of spell preparation. The three of them split up to fetch supplies. Ghosts appear to torment them. 

Meg appears to Sam, only she KNOWS more than she should. She knows about Sam’s fraternization with Ruby. 

In the kitchen, Victor appears to Dean. He reveals that after the Winchesters left, Lilith gruesomely tortured those left in the station for almost an hour before blowing up the place. While Dean absorbs this fun fact, Victor makes his move, plunging his hand into Dean’s chest.

Sam saves Dean just in time with a well-aimed salt round. They start the ritual, Bobby’s living room teeming with ghosts. Bobby chants while the Winchesters play shotgun whack-a-mole with the ghosts. Meg jabs a hand into Bobby’s chest. Bobby drops the bowl and Dean dives for it like it’s a football, then tosses the spell into the fire to finish the job. 

That night, Dean wakes from his slumber.

Castiel stands waiting for him (watching him sleep??) in the kitchen. He congratulates Dean on their triumph over the witnesses, and announces that he has already started doodling Mister Castiel Winchester in his notebooks! 

Dean feels a little raw about nearly dying (again) and wonders why angels are total dicks. “Read the bible,” Cas advises. “Angels are warriors of God.” Oh, and also? He’s not here to PERCH ON DEAN’S SHOULDER. Oh honey sweetie baby. 

Dean tries to read Cas the riot act and rails against God’s shitty parenting. 

Cas: The lord works…

Dean: If you say "mysterious ways" so help me, I will kick your ass

Cas warns Dean that big...no, cosmic things are afoot.

The Rising of the Witnesses is one of sixty-six seals that Lilith is busily unlocking. Each seal is a lock holding Lucifer in his cage. Dean has trouble believing that Lucifer is even REAL. Sassy Cas smiles. “Three days ago you thought there was no such thing as me.” 

Cas tells Dean that Heaven isn’t infinite. Angels have died in the battle so far, and more may be at risk. (Excuse me while I weep for the next twelve seasons. There have been 0 days since the last angel mishap.)

“You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around?” Cas asks, telegraphing his series story arc. “You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.” Cas flaps out.

Dean wakes up for realsies. WAS IT ALL A DREAM? He asks Sam if he believes in the Devil…

You Should Show Me Some Quotes:

All I know is I was not groped by an angel

If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?

When have I ever forgotten the pie?

Where’s the pie?

I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from "Chapter One: Caliah (Lore)" in the Bastet breedbook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse"

Once there was a cat who dreamed he was a man.

Like the morning mist, she appeared from nowhere, or so it seemed.

The winds have spoken of your dilemma and I have come to show you the way home.

Why do you call me brother?

We are family.

We have different parents but share the same blood.

You need to meet your people

You are my sister

I have no other family. Don’t leave me!

We all have family

What are the dreams of a cat?

Let us welcome each other and speak of hidden things.

If they come in peace, we welcome them.

I’m just a mutt.

Listen up and listen close, ‘cause this isn’t stuff you’ll hear from any old place.

I’ve got friends with friends, if y’know what I mean, and this is good stuff.

They don’t get along, y’know.

A good lorespeaker tells different stories every time, and she makes ‘em as cool as possible.

Sound like anyone we know? Nah! Couldn’t be!

So how do you trade secrets, anyway? After all, isn’t a secret shared a secret lost?

If you don’t play the game, you don’t learn a thing.

Each element of the message becomes a metaphor, and the message becomes a story.

Florid? Hell yeah! But ya gotta admit it’s more graceful — and exposes a hell of a lot less — than blurting out the truth.

You might say, “I heard a story about so-and-so” but you’d never say “I did so-and-so.” If your audience has a clue, they’ll catch on.

Everything’s told in metaphors.

A good obtuse metaphor makes you look imaginative if someone gets it, really stupid otherwise.

Everything is larger than life. People don’t just cry, they “explode in showers like the sea.” Folks don’t just get mad, they “turn into coals that burn through the floor.”

If what you’re saying is important, bigger is better.

Simple? Not if you don’t get the lingo.

A wounded cat can surrender without disgrace.

Not enough to go around.

Hey, don’t let on you know what I told you, huh?

It was a time before life, a longing when the dream of birth was yet to be.

This marked the end of peace and the beginning of struggle.

Such promises are soon broken.

Why does even the skin of my daughter flee from my hands?

Why must I always be alone?

Master, what would you have of us?

Nothing exists for him but annihilation.

Go across the world

Let that which is pure stand whole, but erode that which is impure from within.

He tells many tales, but all of them are lies. He is rage made manifest, and he coils within us all.

There was no want, no war, no anguish, and all living things gave of themselves to help others exist.

Until some cataclysm happened, everything lived in peace and plenty.

Life has ever been a struggle, my brothers and sisters. Life has always meant that some may die for others’ pleasure.

That pleasure may be as necessary as hunger or as frivolous as sport, but it has always been fatal and always will be.

Only through struggle can we progress.

Only through sacrifice can we succeed.

We were born from conflict and we grow through adversity. Our ancestors are predators, great cats and human hunters who rose above their surroundings and mastered them.

We know our place in the Great Order, and it is not passive.

Like the moon, our world waxes and wanes.

Each era glows brightly, then fades into night before rising again as some new age.

As creatures of light, dark and twilight all, we are not moved much by the vagaries of fortune.

Each tribe has its creation story, and they differ in many ways.

I have my own ideas.

We are a breed eternally apart, and we are rare.

Water runs silent, yet crushes with the power of an elephant.

Its depths hold secrets that only the brave can find.

The first of our kind were nearly the last.

Those it caught were devoured.

Let this be your legacy

My tears, shed for you, will boil in your veins.

All people will fear you, and all animals, too.

Begone and tend the flocks that need killing.

I banish you from sight!

They still live on in us, and we carry their curse to this day.

As the humans prospered, they grew quickly out of hand.

It was a bloody, useless time, and we fractured as a people.

Secrets became the only thing to bind us.

It’s hard to forgive these raging bastards.

Very territorial, and I know how that feels.

There are enough horrors in the night already.

Corruption has a million voices; sometimes they drown out the song of the moon and lead us over cliffs.

That song wails from nightclubs, boom boxes and televisions every day.

Stop up your ears, my friend and listen to the wind.

Those secrets led the wolves to our door — literally.

Gods damn the dogs for that!

Their misbegotten crusade killed hundreds of our Kind and Kin.

She mated with serpents, wolves and great cats in an effort to become like them, but gave birth to monsters instead.

Some legends portray her as one of our kind, but we know this isn’t so.

If the tales I’ve heard are any measure, they have no pity for us at all.

We are where we are born.

I think our unique insights show us that humanity is a mixed blessing — especially where the earth and the wild are concerned.

Men are the cleverest monkeys, no doubt, but they don’t have much sense of self-preservation.

Our forebears fought to let humanity prosper.

We have an amazing world at our fingertips, but it’s filled with poisons and lies.

Honor seems to be a fading dream in lands where the rich starve their people and the poor kill each other.

We hold magic within ourselves, within our hearts and minds and spirits. To dishonor ourselves is to disperse that magic and scatter our souls.

It’s acceptable to lie to other creatures; they’re not of our blood and not bound by our laws.

We will flee to survive a fight, but will not run when others depend on our strength.

We must make restitution to those we deceive, in deeds, trade or money.

We may be exiled or branded.

Our weapons are many — secrets, claws, teeth and allies — and we will not hesitate to employ them for our world’s

survival.

Our people have walked too close to extinction for us to take such matters lightly.

We will not ally ourselves with shadow powers or drink corrupted wisdom.

We do not fail our Earth and mother. That path leads to death.

We are the keepers of secrets, and our fates depend on silence.

Each of us bears the hidden doom of our own people, and we know the cost of betraying that trust.

We also know that we have what others want — or what they think they want — and it amuses us to make them squirm.

Our knowledge is our concern.

We will not share it unless we wish to.

We will hide ourselves from outsiders; they will think they know us, but we will delude them.

We will wrap our lore in riddles and tales; let the clever ones puzzle out their meaning.

We will act as if we know even more than we do, for it keeps outsiders guessing.

Let them wonder at our insight; they value us more highly when they do.

We will cover our tracks with misdirection, pretend to be other than what we are, fill the air with idle rumors and hide messages in code.

There is no forgiveness for this crime.

Well, let’s just say I know what I’ve seen. And I’ve seen a lot.

His eyes were so filled with pain that I decided to help out.

I’d swear he was grinning as the semi ran him down.

That felt good.

Guess they’ve gotta live here, too.

I say they’re not as smart as they might think.

Maybe I’m the one who’s being fooled.

I could tell you stories all night, all week, all month and more.

As the temples rose and the hordes crossed through, our parents sat on the sidelines of history and observed the passing of kings.

The cultures we witnessed shaped our own ways.

Cities rose, each with secrets too tempting to ignore.

For a long time — 4,000 years — there was all the room in the world for us, and no lack of secrets to keep us entertained.

We should have seen the signs in the Classical Age, when armies swept across the land in the names of gods, kings and conquerors.

We should have met en masse when trade and crusades brought East and West together.

I will not belabor the point. We know what happened.

Explorers, slavers and great white hunters bounded into the wilderness and cast a chain around our kind.

Suddenly, we went from having all space to having little.

I can’t say I don’t share the sentiment just a bit.

We didn’t stop until a greater evil forced us to align, but that’s another story.

It’s a wonder anyone survived.

We studied their secrets, but could learn nothing from them.

We have no one to blame but ourselves.

For all our vaunted sight, we’re blind. For all our gathered lore, we’re stupid.

The world is falling apart.

I don’t know whether to believe it or not, but we are living in interesting times!

We must pool our secrets, combine our efforts, and bring the world’s secrets to light.

We must act on what we discover and disperse what we learn.

Do I lose my cool?

The modern age is the greatest puzzle we could want endless streams of secrets, enigmas, wonders and dazzles, wrapped up in an explosive package that could blow us all to hell.

Anywhere, at any time, the whole ride could fly off the rails.

Those who ignore the warning feed the vultures the next morning.

I’ll simply say the tigers are not where you’d expect.

People have begun to open their eyes, but they still need your counsel to see the cliff’s edge before falling off

Those stories are true — violently true — and they add up to an appalling picture if you string them all together.

They get an idea, work on it a bit, and try to rule the world. Typical. We’ve seen their kind before.

Look around you if you doubt it.

Surely the secrets you’ve uncovered have given you the idea that maybe, just maybe, something’s going on, something bigger than another plunder, another invasion, another city that falls to ruin in a century.

Discover what you can, but bury your tracks well.

We’re strangers to each other for most of our lives, and we like it that way — a few careful gatherings are all we

can stand.

The moon is our patron, but the shadows are our father too, and they call to us at our weaker moments.

Most of us dance on the edge, though, and that’s where we like to be!

Despite our pains, we’re spirited and wild, inquisitive yet careful, sensual yet refined.

Our beauty is our greatest pride, and our wits are second to none.

We know what we are.

To hell with them all!

Still, we cannot let pride blind us to the facts.

The morning it foretells is up to us.

We must come together, yet retain our pride.

We are the keepers of secrets.

Perhaps it’s time those secrets were revealed.

[lethesomething]

Ghost of Tsushima and the Hands of Fate

I see we're still trying to prove that games are an art form by making everyone feel bad.

For the record, Ghost of Tsushima is one of my favourite games in a very long time. It is extremely pretty, the aesthetic and general … polish is *cheff's kiss*. You can pet foxes and backstab people. The fighting mechanic is decent and there are just So Many Hats.

But also, it has the kind of story that pulls you in to the point where you have to drop the controller to hide behind your fingers going 'ohgodno'.

It is an absolute bastard of a game, is what i'm saying.

So let's talk about that, and specifically about Straw Hat Ryuzo and how I feel bad for him.

I am, by the way, going to be talking about the narrative structure of a video game about medieval samurai, so expect like, a bunch of spoilers.

The narrative is one of the big draws in Ghost of Tsushima. Like yes, it's an open world rpg with fighting and flower picking and all the important stuff, and also yes, some of the bits are sloppily written (looking at you, specifically, 'Ending to Norio's Arc'), but the game definitely sets out to Tell a Story.

And because this is a Serious Game that openly bases itself on samurai movies like Kurosawa's, it is a Drama.

In many ways it is an utterly brutal Bildungsroman, a narrative in which a young man finds his identity.

I have joked with friends about the clear intent for this game to make Important Stories, in that it actually tries to tick all the boxes of hotbutton subjects: childhood trauma? Obviously. Gay relationships?  Yup. Survivor's guilt and PTSD? Oh yes. Domestic abuse? Several. Suggested pedophilia? Damn, even that.

The foxes are there to soothe the soul

It's interesting to note that from a writing point of view, this bildungsroman is even Very Classically Structured. It goes so far as to be a three acter, with a pretty standard build-up.

 Jin Sakai, traumatized man that he is, spends the first act slowly getting to grips with the bit where you don't fight an army by yourself by  just walking up to them and challenging them With Honour, like he has been taught his entire life. Instead of getting stabbed repeatedly in the chest and set on fire, he  discovers guerilla warfare and creates this persona of the Ghost, a literal vengeful spirit seeking justice for the island of Tsushima.

It gets him some big wins and in the second act he slowly embraces this identity until things get to a head where he clashes with his entire old life. The third act starts at the hero's lowest point and is utterly gut wrenching (i am Still Not Over the horse, game), forcing him to pull himself together for an ending that is, well…fitting for the narrative. It's an ending that is needed, but perhaps not what Jin deserves.

 But anyway, this is about Ryuzo, and how until that ending, I was very upset about his role.

You see, this story is told in part through the lives of Important Npc's, who contribute to Jin's journey of self-discovery. This is pretty obvious with someone like Yuna, who is the one to introduce him to the Stealth Life and who is a driving force behind the marketing of the Ghost.

Someone like Masako, meanwhile, portrays vengeance and self discipline, but Jin also kinda tries to make her fill the mother-shaped hole in his heart.

Lord Shimura, meanwhile, is an Obvious Father figure but also stands for Jin's past. He's rigid and ineffective, which pushes Jin to further look for alternatives.

Ishikawa, that other mentor figure, is more moderate and flexible, but he also represents a possible unwanted future. He literally warns Jin at one point not to become like him.

Norio, then, is as mentioned not the best written, but he too is a person that searches for his destiny and tries to become like his hero, while only barely holding on to his sanity. 

Kenji, I'm sorry, I love you but you're just comic relief, that's all you do. It's an imporant job in the story, because god does it need it, but you're not teaching Jin anything other than how to make different 'resigned sigh' noises.

So what about Ryuzo? From the very beginning, Ryuzo's story didn't really sit right with me. There's the obvious class issue: he's one of the few important npc's that are poor, and he's an Antagonist.

It has always rubbed me the wrong way that his original intentions were good, depending on how you read it. He's trying to feed his men. He essentially made the decision that this one man's life (even if it is an old friend) is worth the price for the lives of his band of ronin.

It's a lot more complex than that, of course. Ryuzo partly blames Jin for his predicament in life, and he also knows that samurai treat their soldiers as chattel, which the game goes out of its way to show you they DO.

  Essentially, he's a complicated character who makes bad decisions for arguably good reasons.

Ryuzo did everything he could to save the lives of the people he cared about. He went so far as to abandon his honor and his childhood friends, to try to make this happen.

Does that ring any bells?

It kinda clicked for me at the very end of the game.

Jin, being the protag in an assassin game, does a lot of killing. But some of these deaths are given more meaning than others. Some of them are there to make you feel like shit (the Horse Again, but you lose several friends along the way), others serve a more defining purpose.

You see, there's a fair amount of what i'd like to call 'intimate violence' in Ghost of Tsushima. It's an old trope. The 'if someone was gonna kill me, it had to be you' kinda scene that hails from a worldview in which some deaths are better than others, sure, but some deaths are better even than living. It's a worldview in which life itself is less valuable than your legacy. You die for your place in history. For your clan, for your family, for your honor.

Bushido is full of that sort of thing, so it makes sense that a game building on that worldview, would use the heck out of that trope.

  The first is Ryuzo's death. You fight him in a duel, in which he tries to plead for some resolution. You could let him go, come up with some story. But Ryuzo is a traitor, so Jin ultimately defeats him and sends him off in what would be a touching moment of bro friendship if it wasn't for the blood and my 21st century sensibilities.

You grant him a warrior's death, is what I'm saying.

  It happens again with Shimura. The game actually gives you a choice here, but if you go through with it, the scene almost perfectly mirrors Ryuzo's.

You fight in a duel, and Jin tries to get his uncle to just let him go, come to some kind of resolution. But Jin has been branded a traitor, and the only way for Shimura to restore his honour and clan, is to take his life;

This being a game in which you have the power of bamboo strikes and also save games behind you, Jin ultimately wins the duel, and has the option of granting Shimura a warrior's death.

It is utterly heart wrenching and that whole scene has no business being as pretty as it is. The swelling music? The fucking strings? The anguished yell?

Fuck.

  But anyway.

That's about where it clicked with me, that Jin never had a choice.

Ryuzo's whole role wasn't fair, but this is one of those stories where life itself is just not fair at all.

Both him and Shimura are there to show us Jin's path.

  What if, the game says, Jin had listened? What if he'd taken one of several offers the Khan made and surrendered?

What if he'd cooperated?

Well, we see in Graphic Detail what would happen. He would get pushed into doing horrific things. He gets manipulated, again and again, until there is no way out anymore. At some point it becomes clear to him that he's on the wrong side but whenever he tries to devise some plan to turn things around, things go Badly. He's firmly stuck in Khotun's web and the only way out is death.

But what if, the game says, Jin had stayed true to his honour? What if he had listened to his uncle, not defied him, if he had dropped the Ghost before it was too late?  If he'd gone full bushido and repented for the shogun and done all the groveling and the proper stuff.

Samuraihood is just another straightjacket, says Shimura's fate. The tenets are so rigorous you would take your loved ones life, while fucking bawling your eyes out. Shimura knows damn well it's unfair but he also has no way to leave this path. It's a ride he cannot, and will not, get off alive.

  Jin never had a choice.

There was only ever one way for him to go.

Like let's be real: pretty much everyone in this story was dealt a bad hand. It's a narrative about resilience in the face of utter horror, of reinventing yourself and giving up entire structures of faith. People like Masako, Yuna, Norio are finding peace in dealing with huge levels of trauma and regret.

The goal isn't to start a family and live happily ever after, it's to Survive.

Submitting to the mongols would have killed Jin's spirit. Standing tall and rigid as he was taught to do would have, ultimately, killed him as well.

  "I've given up everything to save these people", he says near the end. "And I would do it again."

That's someone who has no regrets.

Jin never could have taken another path and he knows it.

And this is why Ryuzo needed a fate as shitty as his. He fell, so Jin could walk.

I'm sorry, it's still not fair.

This game needs some comfort fic.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 1/5

for @hearteyesforbuck (it’s for EVERYONE but definitely for eli)

read on ao3

Eddie’s bad at words. 

He can talk, of course, will happily go on for hours about how great Christopher’s latest art project is, can give a sermon about the Rangers’ chances of winning the World Series. But when it comes to discussing what’s happening in his brain, the gloomy, sticky parts that follow him around and keep him awake, he clams up. Keeps them locked in because it’s easier than exposing to anyone just how gross it all is, how dark everything is, how dark he is. He wants to talk about things, he does. Wants to make sure Chris knows that he should talk about his feelings, especially the bad ones. And he does his best to be open with him as well, but he’s the only one he seems to be able to do that with. Anyone else — his parents, Abuela, Shannon — he just...can’t. He’d rather save them the trouble.

Eddie’s bad at words, but he’s good at flowers.

He partially blames Abuela for making him spend hours with her in her garden when he was a kid. She taught him different planting methods, how to cut the flowers so they stayed alive longer, and a few basic meanings she learned from Good Housekeeping. After his first tour, they didn’t have the money for him to even try and get into med school, so he got a job at a local flower shop to help with their landscaping team. The owner, Mrs. Negrelli, saw he was better with the roses than the mulch and took him under her wing, teaching him everything she knew. When she retired shortly after Shannon left, she handed him a check with a lot of zeros and said, “It’s time to go plant your own seeds.”

So he did. The Greenhouse has been up and running for just over a year, and it may very well be the best year Eddie’s had in a long time. They’re in a small plaza just outside of LA proper, with an apartment above the shop that makes early morning deliveries much less horrible. Chris is doing great in school (“very popular and excellent in all subject areas”, according to his homeroom teacher) and he’s made some good friends with the other local business owners. It’s the peaceful, quiet life he always dreamed of having when he finally got out of the Army.

Peaceful except for—

“Morning, Diazes!”

“Dad! Buck’s here!”

Eddie pokes his head through the doorway from the back room in time to see his son crash into his friend’s legs, Buck scooping him up and throwing him over his shoulder. Chris laughs loudly, echoing through the whole shop, and starts talking animatedly about his latest drawing when Buck sets him on the counter. He listens intently, throwing a wink towards Eddie when he catches him lingering a few feet away.

As usual, Eddie has to school his face into something other than heart eyes as he watches the two chat. Buck’s in his standard uniform of ripped black jeans that hug his thighs in all the right places and a t-shirt featuring some grungy rock band he’s never heard of. He’s a stark contrast against the rows of hyacinths and magnolias currently on the wall, and Eddie feels a blush rise on his cheeks as he tries (and fails) to stop staring.

When he first met Buck, he was pretty sure he was getting robbed. When a six foot whatever stranger in all black and combat boots and covered in tattoos comes barreling into your newly opened flower shop, that’s kind of the first place your mind goes. He had 9 and 1 dialed on his phone before the stranger ran up to the counter and frantically asked, “What kind of flowers can I buy to apologize to my very intimidating adoptive mother for sideswiping her brand new car?”

Eddie figured an actual criminal would have bigger problems to worry about than his mom’s Nissan.

They formally met the next day, when Buck came to thank him for the bouquet (a small arrangement of broom for humility and common rue for regret; all the yellow tended to make people happier and more likely to forgive you for being a dumbass). He told Eddie he could come by the shop anytime for a tattoo, on the house.

He’d been in Armageddon Tattoo when he was first looking for a space, had met Maddie, the co-owner, and Chimney, their head artist. If he had known the other co-owner looked like Buck, he would have signed the lease much faster. Faster still once he saw how quickly and easily he and Chris got along.

A year on and Buck’s in the shop almost every day, either to buy a bouquet or to give Chris tips on a drawing or to complain about an annoying customer who changed their mind about a design after it was halfway done.

For all the peace that Eddie’s found, Buck is the one chaotic spot that keeps his reflexes in check. He’s a microburst, a runaway firework, an ATV rolling through a field of wildflowers. He blasts his music as he drives in in the mornings, and he opens doors so hard they almost fall off their hinges.

Eddie is painfully, unbearably in love with him.

Which is funny, really, because his whole life, Eddie has always been “the good guy” or “the good son” or “the good soldier”. He was homecoming king, set multiple records on courses in Basic, and became Staff Sergeant quicker than any of his superiors had seen in years. He was always by the book, always tried to be the best, and he usually was the best. 

Until he wasn’t. Until his brain was so full of sadness and horrors that it was a battle to get out of bed each day. Until he was missing so much of Chris’s life that he might as well not have been in his life at all.

Until he wasn’t enough.

His marriage crumbled from there. He knew any path he and Shannon tried to take to move forward would be foggy with the guilt of all he hadn’t done in the past to help their family, so when she left, he didn’t go after her. And that guilt — knowing that he could have fixed it if he tried, if he had just been better — follows him wherever he goes now. He second guesses himself with Chris all the time because he knows one wrong move will lead to whispers among the PTA moms about the single dad who isn’t doing it right. He almost withdrew his lease application for the shop four times because he was constantly worried that it wouldn’t work, that he’d invest all this money and time and effort and it wouldn’t matter. He had done things by the book for so long because that was supposed to be how he succeeded. But now the books are empty and he’s in free fall, hoping he finds a soft landing before splatting on the asphalt.

When he met Buck, the complete antithesis to doing anything “by the book”, a voice whispered in his head that’s your landing. He’s the opposite of everything Eddie knew how to be, and that was thrilling to see. Freeing. To see someone living a happy life by making their own way and not giving a shit what anyone else thought. Not to mention that he was gorgeous, a gentle soul armored in chains and ink, and so unabashedly himself that he drew everyone to him like a magnet.

So Eddie fell, hard but quietly. Because on top of all that, Buck is the best friend he’s made since moving to LA, and he’ll be damned if he screws that up for himself or for Chris.

He finally gets himself moving to the counter, pulled by that damn magnet, where Buck is now showing Chris his latest tattoo — a small skull with a string of roses weaving in and out of the eye sockets and mouth on his right bicep.

“Does it mean anything?” Chris asks, running a small finger over it, taking in the detail.

“Chim says so, went on and on about how it symbolizes life after death and blah blah blah. I just thought it looked cool.”

“Peach blossoms would have been better.” Eddie mutters absently, eyes glued to Buck’s arm and the pale skin under the ink. He blinks as his words register, meeting Buck’s eyes and internally wincing. Thankfully, Buck just looks amused, not mad. “They’re a sign of longevity and immortality in some Eastern cultures. Would’ve fit the life after death idea a little better.”

“See, this is why I need you and your flower wisdom on retainer at the shop. You’d save me a lot of time researching, and our stuff would be even cooler because it would make sense.” He leans down to stage-whisper to Chris. “Between you and me, I think roses are the only flowers Chim knows how to do anyway.” Chris giggles, and Eddie huffs out a laugh too. 

“Any real flowers today, Buck?” Eddie asks. He grabs the craft paper, already knowing the answer.

“Of course! Whatever feels right to you.”

Buck gets a bouquet for the shop about once a week, claims they’re good for inspiration and help some of the more nervous clients relax among the black leather chairs and tattoo guns. Sometimes he has very specific requests (“I just want orange. Like so much orange you could die.” or “Someone asked for tulips on their arm, can I get those in every color so I can practice?”), other times he tells Eddie to put together “whatever feels right”. At first, Eddie never put too much thought into those, just used whatever he was running low on and still looked okay together. But one day, one particularly dark day, when all Eddie was doing was feeling, he took Buck’s words to heart. It was a pretty morbid bouquet — cyprus for despair, peonies for the anger that never seemed to leave him, vervain as a plea to whoever was listening to protect him from the evils of his own mind. His internal mess must have been written all over his face too, because when he handed the flowers to Buck, he just looked at him for a while, like he could feel the sadness that Eddie had physically given him, like he knew the weight of what he was holding, even though Eddie knew he didn’t really. When he said thank you, it was more sincere than usual, laced with something like empathy that Eddie wasn’t ready to look at too closely.

Buck kept those flowers alive for three weeks, said he just couldn’t bear to let them go.

Luckily for everyone, Eddie is in a much less terrible place this week. With his son’s laughter still floating in his mind, he puts together crocuses and daisies, youthful joy and innocence, and ties them together with a dark blue ribbon, Chris’s favorite color. He wraps them in paper and hands them to Buck, who beams as he helps Chris down from the counter.

“Oh, these are beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the man who arranged them.” Eddie feels his cheeks get red and sees Buck’s smile turn smug. “How much do I owe for this masterpiece?”

“Please, you haven’t paid for anything here in months.” Eddie stopped charging while he was only using almost bad flowers, and told Buck as much. He just didn’t tell him when he started using the good stuff.

“I know, but I’m a gentleman, I always have to try. Remember that when you’re older, buddy.”

“I will.” Chris replies. “Dad, we’re gonna be late for school.”

“Okay okay, go grab your backpack.” Chris heads towards the back room as Buck heads towards the front door.

“Well, I’m off to stab people with needles for fun. See you later, boys! Bye Hen!”

Eddie whips his head around and sure enough, there’s Hen, leaning on the far side of the counter, looking far too smug for Eddie’s liking.

“When did you get here?”

“My shift started 20 minutes ago, boss. Glad I got here in time for the show.”

“The show?”

“Yeah, the show. You really should get an Oscar or something for how hard you act like you’re not head over heels for that man.”

Eddie’s jaw drops and Hen cackles. He doesn’t even have time to explain himself before Chris returns with his backpack and starts shoving Eddie towards the door.

“Don’t worry,” Hen calls as she opens the register for the day, “at least you’re cute when you blush!”

Eddie pointedly ignores Chris’s questioning look as he drives, his face and neck still blazing.

He can only hope Buck is less perceptive than Hen. If not, they’re going to have to move cities. Maybe countries. Maybe to the moon.

[jimimn]

HI ITS ME WHO'S NOT OVER JJK BLONDE SELFIE AND WILL NEVER BE -💫

HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO <33333333

HONESTLY ITS THE WAY YOH SAY SUCH NICE THINGS AND I DISAPPEAR FOR DAYS ON END BECAUSE INCONSISTENCY BLEEDS INTO EVERY CORNER OF MY LIFE FNEKALKD BUT I'M GETTING DONE WITH MY FIRST LEG OF EXAMS ON MONDAY SO YAY TO THAT!! OKAY I THINK WE'LL MOVE SLOWLY WITH BABY STEPS JUNGKOOK DROPPED SOME SELCAS JIMIN DROPPED SOME SELCAS IN THE WORDS OF THE LEGENDARY JEON JUNGKOOK ALL WE NEED NOW IS "together..BAM!" (THAT'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOMENTS EVER THE WAY HE SAYS IT 🤧)

YES IN THIS HOUSE WE SCREAM OVER JIMIN'S DISRESPECT HE IS THE PARAGON OF A MULTI-FACETED MAN THAT HAS US WRAPPED AROUND HIS FINGER. THE AUDACITY 😤

CHANEL X JIMIN LETS MAKE IT HAPPEN AND OMG THAT SELFIE THAT DROPPED?? SIR???? WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?? I MEAN YES BH SAID LET'S DROP SELFIES IN BULK BUT THAT ONE PICTURE OF HIM IN BLACK(GREY? I DONT KNOW FHSKKAJF) WITH THE SHIRTS UNBUTTONED!!! THEM COLLARBONES ARE FREE AND THEY'RE THRIVING IN THE OPEN IN THAT ONE. ALSO HIS LIPS ARE SO PRETTY. OH GOD LITERALLY HE HAS THAT COCKY SMIRK ON HIS FACE WHEN HE KNOWS HE DOES HOT BOY SHIT LIKE SHUT UP OK YOU CANT DO THAT JAIL FOR U NDNSLSKAJJW

SUCH A FUCKING TEASE THATS RIGHT!! EVEN STRAIGHT MEN?? BRO LIKE HOW DO YOU HAVE ALL GENDERS JUST TRIPPING OVER THEMSELVES FOR YOU IT'S INSANE AND OMG MISS SHIVI HAVE YOU SEEN THAT ONE CLIP IN WHICH JIMIN HOLDS HIS GAZE WITH THESE MEN WHO LOOK AT HIM (i think it was bon voyage?) and when they cross each other he JUST SMIRKS AND RUNS HIS HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR LIKE YEAH OK ALEXA PLAY I'M SEXY AND I KNOW IT. AND YES I'LL LISTEN TO EVERYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY ANYTIME 💗💗

12PM KST IS THE HOLY HOUR I TELL YOU ALTHOUGH I REMEMBER WAITING THE NIGHT BEFORE BE CAME OUT WAITING FOR SOMETHING TO COME AND BH WAS JUST LIKE "yea...no" OMG THAT'S AWESOME YOUR COUSIN'S VISITING YOU

HHFJDOSO YEAH IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE THEY DID THE JUMP ALTHOUGHHHH I'M POSITIVE THEY'LL DO SMTH COOL LIKE THAT IN THEIR CONCERTS BECAUSE THEIR PERFORMANCE QUALITY IS JUST.. THROUGH THE ROOF IT'S CRAZY!! WHEN THE PERFORM WINGS?? LIKE HOLY SHIT NO CHOREO NO POSITIONS JUST BTS RUNNING AROUND THE STAGE MAKING THE CROWD GO FERAL I LOVE EVERY WINGS PERFORMANCE SO MUCH MY SEROTONIN LEVELS ARE ALWAYS AT A HIGH THEN. OOHH MY GODDD BS&T IS REALLY THAT BITCH!!!! WHO'S DOING IT LIKE HER TODAY NO ONE IS EXACTLY. AND NOOOO I TOTALLY GET IT WE THINK ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH THAT ACCIDENT HAS THE SAME EFFECT ON ME. IF ONLY YOU'D TOLD ME THEN IN 2016 THAT THAT ACCIDENT WAS THE START OF SO MANY I'D BE PREPARED FOR EVERYTHING THAT FOLLOWED (see: him basically stripping himself that one serendipity performance. holy shit.)

FOR REAL THO CHRISTMAS LOVE DROPPED OUT OF NOWHERE AND DO YOU REMEMBER JIMIN SAYINF uUH iM nOt wORkInG oN a SoLo SoNg aT ThE mOmEnT heHe LIKE ALL MEN DO IS LIE OK AT THIS POINT. BYE. YES TAEHYUNG DID WARN US BUT ARMYS (LIKE MYSELF) PUT THEIR CLOWN WIGS ON AND THOUGHT IT WAS KTH1 LMAO. OMG I HOPE YOU DON'T SLEEP THROUGH ANY OF THEIR UPCOMING SONG RELEASES BUT I'M SURE IT'S THE BEST FEELING TO WAKE UP TO CHECK YOUR NOTIFS AND SEE "Big Hit Labels" BECAUSE THAT'S HOW YOU KNOW IT'S GOING TO BE FIREEE. DUDE SERIOUSLY I NEED JIMIN TO GO LIVE AGAIN (although we've been well fed by namjoon for now🤧😌💗) LIKE THAT ONE YT LIVE WHERE HE SAID "O...M...G" SHUT UP STOP BEING SO CUTE I'M DHJSWLIFJWKALS

LMAO OKAY YEAH THAT'S VALID YOUR BLOG THEME IS BASICALLY ✨jimin✨ AND I LOVE THAT IT REALLY GRAVITATED ME AND YOUR URL OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD YOUR BRAINNN 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

YES YES YES JIMIN IS SO PERFECT AND THE SOCK DOODLESSS 😭😭😭 oooo so when did you get into giffing? how did you start? BROOOOO YOUR URL'S ORIGIN STORY. I LOVE IT WOW YES IT'S DEFINITELY GOT THE REQUIRED ✨pazzaz✨

NOOO OMG THIS URL IS YOUR BRAND LIKE YOU'RE A LEGEND ON ARMYBLR I LOVE IT SO MUCH. BUT STILL!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE AT THE END 💖

OMG QUARANTINE DID IT'S ONE GOOD JOB AND GOT YOU INTO BANGTAN YAY. OMG YOU AND MISS LIFEGOESMON ARE FRIENDSS??? LEGENDS INTERACTING THIS IS SO COOL. LMAO THE PARADIGM SHIFT YOU MUST'VE FELT FROM LISTENING TO STAY GOLD (WHICH BTW THE MV...THE LITERAL CUTEST OH GOD THE LITTLE DOG AND JIMIN'S LITTLE SMILES DHSJAOWO) TO THEN GOING TO BST IN WHICH JIMIN IS BASICALLY STRIPPING AND JUNGKOOK IS UPSIDE DOWN LMAOOO. YES BS&T HAS EVERYONE HOOKED THE POWERRRR. YOU FALLING DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE WITH YOUR FRIEND'S ASSISTANCE OH GOD THIS IS SO CUTE 💓 EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM 🥺🥺🥺

AAAAH OKAY MY STORY ISN'T AS INTERESTING AS YOURS IS BUT IN 2016 BASICALLY ALL I KNEW OF KPOP WAS GANGNAM STYLE AND WASNT WILLING TO CUANGE THAT PERCEPTION (FOOL BEHAVIOUR I TELL YOU) AND WAS TOO BUSY OBSESSING OVER ONE DIRECTION'S REUNION AND SO ONE NIGHT (THE NIGHT BEFORE JIMIN'S BIRTHDAY 🤧🤧) I JUST STUMBLED UPON THEIR BS&T TEARS MV AND I HEARD IT AND I WAS LIKE OMG!! THIS IS THAT SUPER ADDICTIVE SONG THAT I'D HEARD SOMEWHERE AND IT JUST SPIRALLED FROM THERE I REMEMBER SEEING JIMIN AND BEING LIKE 👀👀👀👀 WHO IS HE I LIKE HIM AND JUST HIS AURA DREW ME IN SOOO MUCH AND WHEN I WAS GETTING INTO THEM I REMEMBER WRITING THEIR NAMES IN MY NOTES TO SEE IF I COULD REMEMBER 🤧 AND I STILL HAVE THAT NOTE FROM 4+ YEARS AGO 💓 AND YEAH BASICALLY SEEING THEM DO ALL THE MUSIC SHOWS AND STUFF AT THE TIME WAS SO COOOL AND MIND YOU BH DIDN'T HAVE SUBS FOR BANGTAN BOMBS THEN SO WENT ON THESE SKETCHY DAILYMOTION TYPE SITES LOOKING FOR ALL THE CONTENT I COULD CHURN OUT LMAO

AND YES!! COURTESY OF YOU I DID WATCH SOME RUN EPS!! I WATCHED THEIR CANADA ONES SPEAKING OF WHICH I LOOOVE THAT PART WHERE THEY'RE DOING THAT SONG GUESSING THING IN THE MORNING AND JIMIN SAYS "are you cold?" 🥺🥺 TO TAE AND HUGS HIM URRHRHEHSJSJSH AND I ALSO SAW THE ONES WITH THE PUPPIES GODDDDD I LOVE THE PUPPIES ONE SO MUCH LITERALLY JUNGKOOK AND HIS DOG (MIRI?) OH MY GOD THAT LIL FLUFFER AND ADAM IS MY ICON WITH HOW HE JUST DID HIS OWN THING LMAO.

BUT ANYWAY!! DO YOU HAVE A FAVE ERA?? LIKE DO YOU EVER LOOK AT THEM AND GO "Damn I wish I was a fan then" BECAUSE HONESTLY I WISH I HAD STANNED THEM IN THEIR DOPE ERA BUT I DON'T THINK I WOULD HAVE SURVIVED JIMIN THEN DHKSOWID-💫

FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!!!!!!! ITS OKAY!!!!!!!! I TOTALLY TOTALLY UNDERSTAND!!!!! AND YAYYYYY CONGRATS I HOPE THE FIRST LEG OF EXAMS WENT WELL <333333 AND OH MY GOD you’re gonna make me cry with the together baam goddddddd same one of my fave moments and jimin’s giggles after that 😭😭😭😭 my babies <3 :((((

that..... black suit selca....... that opened button...... like open one more dear sir who’s stopping you... just do it <33333 YEAH he totally needs to shut up with his i know im hot side it just kills me every single time 😭😭😭😭😭

LISTEN THAT BV3 MOMENT  S H O O K  ME OKAY????? THOSE GUYS LOOKED AT HIM AND HE WAS SO FUCKING SMUG ABOUT IT (AND HE SHOULD BE) AND THE WAY HE LICKED HIS LIPS AND RAN HIS HANDS THROUGH HIS HAIR????? LIKE HE KNOWS HE HAS EVERY SINGLE PERSON; NO MATTER WHAT GENDER; WRAPPED AROUND HIS LIL PINKY LIKE THAT???????

OH MY GOD ME TOO I LOVEEEEEEEEEEE THE WINGS STAGE AND WATCHING THEM HAVE SO MUCH FUN IS JUST SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND I ALSO ABSOLUTELY LOVVVEEE THEIR ENERGY DURING THE SY TOUR MEDLEY WITH IDOL AND BAEPSAE AND FIRE AND DOPE ZSXDFGFCHGVJBHJN THEY JUST LOSE THEMSELVES IN THE CROWD AND THE MUSIC AND ITS JUST SO FUCKING SURREAL TO WATCH HOW MUCH THEY ENJOY DOING WHAT THEY DO!!!!! kinda makes me want to find that happiness and passion in whatever i do in my professional life <3 and LISTEN jimin said the break the soul commentary THAT HE COULD DO SERENDIPITY SHIRTLESS TOO. THE AUDACITY. HE SAID THAT WITH HIS WHOLE CHEST. 

YOU KNWO WHAT I THINK JIMIN WON’T GIVE US A HINT BEFORE DROPPING PJM1. HE’LL JUST DROP IT ONE FINE DAY OUT OF NOWHERE LIKE HE DROPPED PROMISE AND CHRISTMAS LOVE (i wasn’t here when he dropped promise but i read that on twitter sdfghjkl) AND NO PLS NO I DO N O T WANT TO SLEEP THROUGH JJK1 OR KTH1 OR PJM1 OR KSJ1 OR NAMGI MIXTAPE 3 OR HOBI MIXTAPE 2 OR ANYTHING BASICALLY YOU GET IT i had slept through dynamite cb because i had NO CLUE that they were gonna drop it at 1pm kst rather than 12 am kst. i was under the impression that since they dropped all the teaser pictures and the teaser itself as 12 am kst, the mv will drop at 12 am kst too. and I woke up like two hours after the mv dropped (which was almost noon my time) and i felt like A FUCKING FOOL AND I JUST 😭😭😭😭 NEVER WANT TO FEEL LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN 😭😭😭 

AND YES BABIE NEEDS TO COME LIVE SOON PLS I MISS HIM SO FUCKING MUCH :((((( AND HIS O...M.....G HAD MADE ME FUCKING SOBBBBBBBBBBB his yt live god he looked sooooooo fluffy with his hair and his tiny hands and his puppy eyes and soft voice im just so 😭😭😭😭😭😭

NO NONNONONONO PLEASE IM NO LEGEND DON’T SAY THAT IM EMBARRASSED im just a normal fangirl who makes okayish gifs 😭😭 and ok yes so i started giffing LONNNGGGGGG time back on a different public fan forum from my country but i never knew the right process and stuff so obviously the gifs were shitty lmao BUT ANYWAY i got into gifmaking PROPERLY this in july last year and obviously struggled a lot in the beginning because i didn’t know shit about colouring and stuff lmao but i kept practicing and even though im not perfect rn i do think that i got better. i love giffing tho. its such a nice creative outlet and whenever i gif the boys it brings me so much happiness :( <33

AND YES ASDFGHJKL ME AND HER ARE FRIENDS SINCE A VERY LONG TIME SDFGHJK LIKE LONG BEFORE BOTH OF US GOT INTO BTS SDFGHJ and ah yes the whiplash lmaooooooo and you’re right god the stay gold mv is SO FUCKING PRETTY THE COLOURS IN THAT ENTIRE MV HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND JIMIN AND TAE AND JOON WITH THE DOGGO JUST EVERYTHING SDFGHJK <3333333 AND BS&T DUDE I GIFFED THE MV YESTERDAY AND IM 💀💀💀💀💀 (like i just giffed jimin from the mv but i did watch the whole thing 5647589 times <333333) AND GUESS WHAT!!!!!! I WAS A LILLY SINGH FAN (IDK IF YOU KNOW HER SHE’S A YOUTUBER) BACK IN 2016 AND PEOPLE BACK THEN HAD REQUESTED HER TO REACT TO BS&T MV AND I HAD WATCHED HER REACTION VIDEO AND (although it didn’t stick with me back then because i was a fucking fool) I DID SOMEHOW REMEMBERED THE JIN AND STATUE KISSING MOMENT AND WHEN IN 2020 I SAW THE MV AND SAW THE KISSING MOMENT MY BRAIN JUST!!!!!!!!!!! I WAS LIKE HOLY SHIT I HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE SOMEWHERE AND THEN I REMEMBERED I HAD SEEN THIS IN THE REACTION VIDEO LMAOOOOO i wish i hadn’t been a fool and gotten into them back then :((((

AH NO OMG YOUR STORY IS SOOOOOOO CUTEEEEEEEEEE ATLEAST YOU WEREN’T A FOOL LIKE ME TO NOT GET ATTRACTED TO BS&T THE FIRST TIME OF SEEING IT!!!! I WANNA HIT MY 2016 SELF LIKE DAMN YOU YOU FOOLISH ASSHOLE AND yes omg how did y’all do the subs thing damnnnnn i can’t imagine

AND YES THE CANADA RUN EPIS ARE LOOOVVVEEEE and that vmin moment plsssssss i cry everytime 😭😭😭😭😭 it is just so soft and innocent and tae’s little smile after jimin just turns around and hugs him 😔😔😔😔 i love soulmates 😔😔😔😔 AND MIRI YES OMG EVERYONE WAS SO IMPRESSED BY THE LITTLE CUTIE AND THE WAY JUNGKOOK JUST KEPT ADORING HER THROUGHOUT MADE ME SO SO SOFTTTT and bro adam is me. i am like that. lazy and un-motivated AF. although if i were a dog and jin were to be my owner i would listen to him so well and jump on him every chance i’d get 😌😌😌

GOD YES RED HAIR DOPE ERA JIMIN 💀 BABIE BUT MAKE IT SEXY 🥵🥵 AND OMG YESDGFHG MY FAVE ERA IS HYYH. ORANGE HAIRED JIMIN. PLS. HE’S EVERYTHING. I WISH I HAD GOTTEN INTO THEM DURING THAT. LIKE THAT ERA IS ..... SOMEHOW SO FUCKING WILD AND STILL SO ASSURING AND CALMING ????? KEEPS ME ROOTED LIKE IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN DFGHJKL AND WINGS TOO DAMN I WISH I WAS HERE TO LIVE ALL THOSE AMAZING ERAS. but even though i wish i had gotten into them earlier... i think i found them when i needed them the most. I was going through a very difficult time last year and they somehow they made me feel so fucking safe and at home that the connection was instant. honestly i’ve never stanned or felt a connection with any celebrity as strong as the one i feel with bangtan. its like... they don’t know i exist but they still know EXACTLY what im feeling and what to say or do at that time to make me feel comforted. Its weird god but its true :((( SORRY I GOT EMO I JUST LOVE THEM A LOT SDFGHJKL

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

warning: this a fucking LONG post. if you plan on reading it all, godspeed.

i typed all of this as it was happening on stream so this gets progressively less coherent as i grow more sleep deprived. prepare yourselves. i may or may not go off topic at some points

larry vehemently vomiting pure malic acid. we’re off to a great start

what the fuck the soggy ass popcorn in that ranch jesus christ

lindsay in the song from AH the musical. i love her so much

jeremy going YAAAAAAY after someone eats a cursed oreo

matt getting AGGRESSIVELY kissed by larry

“this kiss this kiss” before geoff and jack kiss

geoff “i’m from alabama” ramsey

THIS FUCKING RANCH SEGMENT HAS ME GAGGING

jeremy “the alcohol demon the whiskey goblin” dooley

alfredo “you wont believe what the white people did today” diaz

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS GET THAT DICK ESSENCE

wait why does it sound like wonderwall

they look like characters from the matrix

the speaking parts. make my teeth hurt

in conclusion: they weren’t kidding abt the tight pants 

okay everyone get ready for eric soundboard spamming YEAH BABEY

“hi i’m from broadcast and i don’t want to be here” they represent themselves well

also, let’s take a second to appreciate broadcast here!! they have a really tough job and don’t get a ton of credit. lots of love to all of broadcast!!! you guys are awesome

i am: foreseeing problems with this eric sound board

which one is eric?? will the real eric please stand up?? was the real eric the one we found along the way??

“i’m... just really worried that i won’t ever find love-” “i really don’t care”

WHY DO THEY HAVE THAT ON THE SOUNDBOARD (what does that apply to? whatever it is you’re thinking of, but mostly “daddy wants some”)

ooh someone’s about to get a fReE tongue piercing from a pineapple

god dammit i went to the bathroom for thirty seconds and now they’re eating chad’s chest hair

owie the shock collar and belly slap look painful, but drinking natty light from a shoe? that’s a true punishment

“and this roast was brought to you by meundies”

ah yes what better way is there to end a segment than people throwing up

“man action” oh no

THROBERT MULVEINY

K A R B is blind in T W O of her eyes

“my last name is cottagecheese”

I HAVE A PIECE OF METAL SHOVED UP MY A S S 

chris has somehow managed to lose 23 years of age and roughly 412 pounds

“just open throat like baby bird” who the fuck is writing this and why is it jeremy

jon. jon you’re breathing in adam’s ass fumes

a summary of this segment: ass and cottage cheese

BARB IS HERE I REPEAT BARB IS HERE

“to fitness” -starts choking-

final fitness coach: tad, here to workout your issues so they can beat you into submission

“will you buy my wet” well i don’t see that on the raffle items

we’re back folks & i’m loving this walk around segment

moonball wall and gavin&michael will soon be reunited can we get an F in the chat

jeremy getting a borderlands tattoo is very on brand

what’s extra life without a little satan

“starvation army, putting lead back into paint, increasing childhood obesity” people in chat: TAKE MY MONEY

chris “i’m doing a different hole” demarais

ah yes. the game we all play in hell: twister

nobody edit chris getting mustard shot down his throat. i’m scarred enough from the original clip

oh fuck. oh god. the mayo. oh god what the fuck is up with the misuse of condiments this year

this just in: a human soul costs roughly $12,700

D̷̯͑̆̈́͝Õ̸̲͎̥̬͈̬̙͕̲G̸̢̧̠͉͚̙̲̙̓̔̀̇S̷̥̀́͆̈́̇̀ ̶̣̞̗͚̬̭̖̦͇̈́̎̈́̿̓̈́͆̒̋D̷̙̟̩̫͉̺̐̊̚Ö̶̥́̋́̓ͅĜ̵̞̌͋̏̉̌̕͝͝S̵̤̹̣̫̮̻͛̍̑̕͝͝ ̷̧̨̞̙̥̟̜͍̉̍̑̏̇̀̾D̴̻̮̩̯͓͉̖͎̘͐̒͋̓̉͝ͅỎ̶̰͓̳̥͑̅͛͊̒͐͊͘̚G̵̩̻̦̥̠̃̔Ş̶̹͚̩̱͖̀͆͘ ̸̢̢͇̻͔̗̺̼͖̱̏̾̔̚D̴̨̨̫̙̃̾̋̾̆̓̓Ớ̷̡͓͎͊G̶̱̣̣̰̝̖̰̗̓͐̐̊͋̀͊̀̕͝Ş̷̩̺̬̖͙̺̟͗̈́͒͗̀̑́́̕͠ ̷̡͈̼̲͈̳̫̺̝̈́̋͌͗̒ͅD̸̨̬̞̪̗̘̄̑͆̿̈́͘͠͝O̸̡̡͇͕̻͎͍͉̅̌͗̄͌̑̉̔͂̎Ḡ̸͙̟̪̞̬̬͕͐̈̏S̶̝̪̼̮̠̜̭̳͖̘̑

urine: to help with aerodynamics

jon: maya, speak! maya: *the smallest arwoo*

today’s mvp: any dog. pick one. no matter which you pick, you’re right

how the fuck did blaine change back from satan so quickly

barb as a cat is... my new sleep paralysis demon

blaine: barbara speak! barbara: climate change is real

#dogsforkids

this just in: extra life killed my wifi

we’re back & kdin is in the business of killing people with spice. she is the spice queen

queue six thousand well-timed 1337 donations

HOLY SHIT THAT’S COLIN FROM WHOSE LINE IS IT ANYWAY

hmm “questionable liquids” is very... questionable

trevor: oh there’s four of them! we all get to join in the Fuckkkk

“what’s your favorite kind of candy” “any meat”

i like pickles and i would rather rip my eyebrows off than drink the juice so i feel for trevor

the only thing worse than drinking apple cider vinegar is shooting it out of your nose

“can you feel the love tonight” “i used to and that’s the problem”

“flubs every word man” damn, really missed the chance to say captain hair

jeremy not being able to intentionally flub his words is so fucking funny

OK BOOMER 

wow i can feel my blood pressure spike just watching these shots

Xavier Woods is here and he wants to know if it’s Christmas

miles doesn’t know what a question is

WHERE’S YOUR HAIR

oh no. oh no helping hands is next. everyone clear a splash zone

CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

miles bossing around chef mike is priceless

“you leave that fucking dough on the floor”

“you wanna slam your hands down on the table” *pizza sauce goes flying everywhere*

HOEDOWN HOEDOWN HOEDOWN jesus why do i keep doing that

“If Colin Mochrie is listening, I’ll see you here next year” OH FUCK YEAH

--- this is when i take a break so my soul can return to my body (aka i have work to turn in. college will never not be a pain in my ass) ---

oh god dammit i missed all of Always Open. fuck college who needs a medical degree

so... we have some very interesting things happening in family feud and i’m not sure if i like any of them

hmm. is now the time to get drunk

oily twist feels very... ominous

what do you mean you don’t remember gandalf having a taser in lord of the rings?

someone in the chat said “big stupid sleeping thing is what my parents called me in high school”

i think i’m blacking out what’s going on i don’t remember the past two hours

ah yes. voldemort and snape having a talk show together sounds exactly like something J.K. Rowling would make a spinoff book or show or porno of

can we just talk about how much shit chris has been doing this year? what a guy. what a dude

“coldy with voldy” actually means getting knocked the fuck out cold because you only got three hours of sleep last night and you don’t want to miss chef mike and lindsay cooking

this snape poem is summarized by one phrase: “that was terrible sit the fuck down” (sorry chris)

“let’s destroy a weasley” enter chad

fucking called it

“you smell poor” i need a caffeine drip

heh the wheel spins are at 69 heh nice

i’m a grown ass woman

welcome to a section called: we torture chad for your entertainment

“who wants us to kill weasley?” *massive cheers from the audience*

“wait weasley step away from the wideshot so i can masturbate to this later”

“i’m not gonna rub my eye mom”

oh they’re really gonna kill chad on stream huh

i felt that chest slap in my soul

i think i felt my own ribs crack

oh fucking

tumblr deleted my thoughts on the fanfic section

alright. fine. brief summary: my teeth are burning

my mom lindsay is on next and i’m so excited but i’m nearing the point of loopiness so things will go downhill dramatically from here

this is my fucking fourth extra life, you would think i’d be smart enough to sleep the night before

LINDSAY LINDSAY LINDSAY THAT’S MY MOM

JEREMY JEREMY JERE- wait a second... did jeremy get taller

oH CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

i hope Xavier comes back next year because he’s funny as fuck

m y a t t

oh god the mcdonald’s shade i’m rolling

lindsay “who’s the chef here” jones

chef mike mentioned mayo and i involuntarily gagged

chef mike clowning the big mac. i’m crying

he made the right choice with ryan bc i’ve seen his cooking stream(s) and it’s nothing if not great content

i heARD A MICHAEL JONES

“lindsay you haven’t done anything but warm up cookies so far” “yeah and?? you’re welcome”

you know that classic snack. slightly warm oreos

JEREMY THE LIQUOR GOBLIN DOOLEY IS BACK

oh god him screeching across set is making me cry laughing

why does it remind me of trevor’s voice cracks in the one minecraft ep where they’re singing the lion king

the biggest spoon for the smallest shot glass

i just realized we’re not even halfway through yet and i’m scared for the length of this list i’m gonna end up falling asleep involuntarily at some point

lindsay no your teeth are going to errode from that shot in your mouth

well timed leet donation #1829495

this gorden ramsey bit is so fucking good

jack: what do you think of the arugala? matt: i don’t even know what you said

iT’s NoT jUsT tWo CoOkIeS miCHeAL

jeremy and michael just chillin amidst the choas is exactly my demeanor at any party i’ve ever been to

lindsay scores: ryan = 7 because diet coke, matt = still eating lindsay’s meal so it’s a 10, xavier = also still eating it so it’s an 8. total: 25

“deep fry everything but a remote control”

chef mike scores: ryan = 9 for no death, matt = greens are present, words were said, score is 8. xavier = Gourmet Mcdonald’s, food is edible, score is 8. total: 25

oh fuck it’s a tie

now they fight to the death. death = doing as many shots as possible

i think we’re all going to need liver transplants after tonight

no jesus please don’t vomit oh goD oh fUc k please- oh thank god

okay i’m making a part two this is too much

[inky-dumbass]

me, I do, please talk about dnd alignments, please ink, please- (- milly)

OK SO

A lot of people use alignments to go with personality, but that’s literally wrong. Alignments are about morals, not personality (not directly, anyway). Somebody who would do what they believe is right at any cost would be chaotic good or chaotic neutral depending on what they believe is right. They would not be chaotic evil because the evil alignments are about seeking personal gain even or especially at the cost of others. 

An example of what I mean: Syndrome from The Incredibles. He’s not chaotic evil, not neutral evil (probably), but rather chaotic neutral or even chaotic good. His backstory is that he was snubbed by a superhero (Mr. Incredible) and, in a more realistic wording, believes that supers are all egomaniacs who only care about their own fame. He thinks that supers are bad, so he tries to do something about it. He thinks he sees an issue, so he tries to correct it. 

(In the movie, if I remember correctly, he has the (at least in my opinion) unrealistic motivation of “i was snubbed as a child so i will get my revenge as an adult” combined with a little of what I said which would make him neutral evil.)

A more extreme example of what I mean would be the Mad Titan, Thanos. He is chaotic neutral. His actions are awful, and he commits insane atrocities, but he does them for what HE BELIEVES to be a good reason. Thanks believes that the universe is too full of sentient life and that it will destroy itself if it isn’t careful (which is true, at least of Earth), which by itself would have no bearing on his alignment. However, his solution of “destroy half of all life” is a very extreme one with enough moral implications to remove any possibility of him being of a good alignment. His reason for doing this is what prevents him from being evil. He is not doing it specifically for his own personal gain despite the fact he gained a whole ass army along the way. While Thanos is a terrible person and makes most Earth war crimes look like jokes, he is not of an evil alignment because he is doing what he does for the purpose of making life better for the rest of the universe. He specifically says as much, and if he had the motivation he has in one of the comics (killing half the universe because he’s in love with Death itself [I mean literally in love with the being that is Death]) he would be chaotic evil.

This actually goes both ways, with characters who are terrible people not being of evil alignments and characters who are good people not being of good alignments. 

Before Tony Stark gets character development, he’s lawful evil. He’s trying to get as much wealth and power as he can within the boundaries of the law and he doesn’t care that he has to make weapons to do it. 

A lot of D&D characters should actually be neutral evil or at least of a non-good alignment because of the fact that they do what they do for personal gain. 

In fact, Omin Dran, owner and CEO of Acquisitions Incorporated, war cleric of Tymora, should be neutral evil or true/chaotic neutral if he isn’t. I’ll get to the true neutral part in a sec. 

Omin has the balls to make a deal with Asmodeus himself for I believe 45% of his soul. His logic for why 45%? Asmodeus only deals in multiples of 9, and 45% isn’t a controlling share. Omin may be extraordinarily loyal to his friends, but he is a businessman above all else. He is a goddamn cleric or Tymora, the goddess of good luck, and not only does he roll natural 1s enough for him to put the Acq. Inc. logo on the 1 for their special branded dice, he has made deals with the Lord of the Nine Hells to be able to open a fucking franchise in HELL ITSELF. And he is one of the good guys.

Omin is a pretty complex example of what I’m talking about, but the point is, chaotic and lawful and neutral and good and evil have nothing to do with a character’s personality, only their morals. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[spacegaywritings]

Hello, we are the Neighbours -  2 (final) “Starry Night”

 Summary: Virgil uses she/her and he/him. Remy uses he/him. Emile uses they/fae. Logan uses they/them Tags: a LOT of swearwords, edginess, Teenagers scare the living shit out of me, edibles, mentions of getting high, marijuana (implied), questionable living conditions, stress, insomnia/sleeplessness, crappy parents, (depression?) SOFT SIBLING MOMENT (analogical)

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Virgil hugged his stupid friend closer, his face buried in the mess of Remy’s pastel purple sweater.

 She was basically wearing nothing but a big army jacket and boxers, herself. The pinkish scars on her chest were fainting with time but still showing after all these months.

 Remy was at least in a skirt longer than usual - this one actually covered his ass completely. Instead of big boots, he had white summer slippers one. He almost looked like a ballerina with his long legs, small-ish statue and flawless skin.

 The sun slowly sunk down the horizon while the two cuddled.

 “You know, you are almost out of there, anyway. It does not matte. You got so far, Virgil. You will get through this too, with or without me.”

 She shook her head ever so slightly, her pumpkin hair curling over his shoulder. He had recently dyed it again.

Every now and then Virgil was forced into self-care. That meant Remy would drag him over to his place, give him a little bit of wellness time such as doing face masks and painting his nails. Of course, he would also give her a dye-job when necessary or just wanted. Remy was rather good at it after all. Without him, Virgil would not take such care of himself. It was all Remy’s doing.

 “Nu. I will strike. I am not gonna do shit without you. I don’ wanna.”

 She mumbled silently, gently hugging Remy closer. He carefully held the feral bastard close.

 “You have to. You can do it. If I don’t get in, I will find work where you live and we can move in together and I will clean for you, so you and Logan don’t die.”

 The smaller one curled up, his knees pressing against his chest as he put his weight against Remy in ever-persistent patience. A little snort escaped her after all.

When he was not an anxious mess, he got to be more than just the calming friend but also the braincell of the group. He was rational and got things together. No wonder he applied for studies in mechanics.

 “You would do that..?”

 Virgil pulled back a bit, yet still remained in her little ball of limbs. He was barely covered with his short pants in their plaid pattern. The big jacket was so drastically oversized, Virgil was sitting on it since its length clearly exceeded his height. It was supposed to be worn by someone else so it would not cover them down to their thighs.

 Remy gently brushed over his shoulder.

 “I would do whatever to be with your sorry ass. If you live on your own and gotta take care of another living being, you will probably just die, like, instantly. You are so fucking oblivious and sensitive after all.”

 He gently nudged her.

 “Be my wife.”

 Remy felt heat rise in his chest. He vehemently shook his head, his stomach fuzzy all of a sudden. Thousands of little feathers tickled him from inside and his cheeks reddened to match his heated blood.

If he did not know better, he would have said that he had done no more but choked on his spit.

 “Virgil!”

 The illegal little potion of bitter rage hugged him against the playful struggles and shoves from his side.

 “Shut up-”, he demanded squeakily, “I am not gonna be anyone’s fucking wife, I am a qUeEN.”

 His voice broke at the last word, delicately proving his point in being true royalty of great manners and high levels of taste.

Remy was a true piece of art and he was, as he often repeated, “a luxury few could afford.”

 A pair of headlights glanced onto their backs, lighting up the scene when the whole sky was turning dark. Their shadows were drawn out before them, making Remy shrink in on himself and look back to check who or what was approaching them.

The running car engine they could hear made it evident that this was a person rolling around in a vehicle.

 Who?

 Virgil pushed Remy down onto their blanket, carefully trapping him below her.

 “Hey, Em, come in and hurry, we can sacrifice him right now while he is still a virgin!”

 Remy threw his hands into Virgil’s face. Ungodly screeches escaped his throat as he pushed and grabbed and tore at the untouchable bastard of humankind.

 “You fucking wish! Stop projecting your assless life onto me!”

 Finally, Remy pushed his knees into Virgil’s guts and pushed the idiot off his shoulders. Emile had finally gotten out of the car, basket under their arm and a blanket pressed against heir chest.

 “Hey, save some dumbassery for me!”, fae complained as they plopped down between the two. Honestly, they felt like those kind of people everyone would comment on about how much they behaved like an old, married couple.

Not that they were wrong.

 “I am not duuuumb!”, Remy whined.

 He sat up again, shoulders quickly pressing against Emile’s who got comfortable. That bastard was really out there, fucking wearing a leather-like jacket with spikes and shit. He could see the colours on the dark material and could only assume faem to have customised the article.

They were the only one to have covered legs. Black ripped-jeans hugged their endlessly long walking sticks and their feet were covered in worn-out sneakers. Void of any big brand names or associations, of course.

 Probably all of this was either made by private businesses, friends, faerself or smaller companies barely anyone knew about.

 “Emile, put some sense into her! He is being a real bitch again”

 Virgil blew raspberries to the complainer and immediately threw his legs over Emile’s inviting lap.

 “If you got an issue with cuddles, you better go and sit on his side”, she challenged silently. Emile did not budge, much to his delight.

“Good bean.”

 The newby commented with a little chuckle, gently drawing Emile in by putting one arm around him.

 “I got ya two cuties some drinks on the way here. Who wants the coffee and who wants the cotton candy pink whatever capitalism-victim? You two definitely need something to suck on.”

 Virgil waved his arms around, stimmy hands flapping like birds’ wings. His long sleeves smacked themselves due to them exceeding his fingers. Her heart was fluttering in sudden excitement. He was aflame like a bunch of dry grass set on fire.

 “YES! Gimme gimmeee gimmeeeee!! I want the caffeine!”

She pointed at the basket and reached for it but Remy quickly smacked their sleeves away.

 “You are not getting any fucking caffeine, you half-dead junkie zombie, you”, Remy cursed. In a flare of problem-solving skills, he pulled the basket closer, just out of reach from the slightly shorter idiot. He grabbed the caffeine-packed cup of ice-cold sin.

 Fae blinked, unimpressed, “Just hand me the chocolate one. Pink unicorn is for our rainbow bunny, then.”

 Remy’s smile grew even wider.

 Did they say... bunny...?

 Virgil pouted in return, her reaction less than ideal. Instead of complaining, his legs pulled them closer by their lap and rested there, snuggled up against the pal with the colourful hair. Not even a beanie this time.

 “I am not a bunny”

 He slurped up some of the pinkish drink from hell.

It was tasty.

Such a bitch.

How dare it be tasty when he tried to be angry with Emile for giving him free stuff and falsely calling him a bunny when he was clearly a unicorn! Like the drink!

 Remy nodded sagely, sensing a bit of mood at this moment.

 “Virgil thinks he is a unicorn despite looking like a bunny but that is okay. We still love him.”

 His hand sneaked over to her, gently patting her shoulder and indirectly bringing himself closer to Emile in the process.

Not that anyone was complaining.

He was simply slurping his iced coffee in gratitude. It calmed down his hot face and fidgety fingers. Holding the cool cup gave his fingers something to do at least.

 For a moment, Emile’s forest eyes looked into his soul. Fae blinked and nodded before turning back to Virgil.

 “Virgil, do you feel like a unicorn? Do you identify as one?”

 Emile looked at her, carefully brushing over her legs as they attempted to keep eye contact. Virgil looked away, face fully averted.

Fae patiently squeezed his leg.

 “If you want me to call you unicorn, I will. I just liked the nickname bunny for you because you jump a lot and are very active.”

 Remy smiled. He did not notice but he leaned against Emile’s patient shoulder with his own head.

Fae minded the contact with a little blink and one of faer unoccupied hands moving to take Remy’s.

 The pouting smalls still looked away, stubbornly staring at the sky instead of facing the other two idiots.

 “You know, I really hate littering, too.”

 Virgil cleared her throat, gently hugging her flat stomach a bit. It was not exactly colder than before but maybe by now his open jacket and exposing outfit proved to be impractical for stargazing together.

 “If you call me bunny and nobody else, I am okay. And if you mean it as a nice name. Remy too. Even though Remy was a butt about it because I know I am a unicorn, even with ears!”

 His voice got a bit louder. Then she nodded in self-assurance to end the sentence and prove a point. He pulled a phone up with him on it, hood over his head, the bunny ears flailing around from the impact of being so harshly moved around.

The small friend snuggled up to Emile and reached out to hold Remy’s hand too.

 “You are dumb but you are both okay. You two can call me bunny but I will stab anyone else who tried to do that.”

 She huffed softly.

 Remy squeezed their hands together and put Virgil’s and Emile’s soft hands together.

 “You are our little bunny, then.”

 The tallest of the three hummed in thought, their eyes slipping close.

 “You guys wanna get high now or later? Because I am ready.”

 Virgil shook his head.

 “Can’t. I will die.”

 Remy nudged Emile so much, it pushed them all against Virgil and had her nearly topple over. She hissed at Remy and angrily glared at him.

 “You gotta take a chill pill. I will bring you home with me and the day after. We came in one car anyway.”

 Emile looked between them.

 “What is the issue? Do you have to go home later?”

 Their voice was so smooth and innocent, it felt like talking to a child for just a moment. They both knew there was more than enough wit between these words to take down a whole system.

 “I gotta take care of my baby sibling. They are tiny baby and need someone to look out for them.”

 Remy shook his head adamantly.

 “Logan is, like, 13 and would love to be home alone from your exhausted ass. If you wanna, I will babysit them with Emile. You mind that at all?”

 The addressed pal stole a quick glance from Remy for just a moment before looking into the dark night sky.

 “It is settled. Virgil, we are officially kidnapping your hot butt and putting you on high duty of being dummy idiotic and free of responsibilities for a few hours. We will take a look at your sibling, too. Promise.”

 Virgil let out a whine.

Her hand pushed the now empty cup into the abandoned basket Emile had brought along.

He laid down all over Remy’s and Emile’s long legs in the dramatic flair of imitating death or at least heavy defeat.

 “Mmm... will you give me ice cream?”

 Emile nodded, gently brushing through her hair.

 “I got ice cream at home but we can also buy some just for you if you don’t wanna depend on that.”

 The third in their group yipped out a happy sound of agreement.

 “We can ask Logan to sleep at a friend’s place or be there with us and wait until they sleep. They go to sleep super early anyway, that nerd.”

 The laying swan .. bunny.. uh... unicorn? Shrugged.

 “ ‘s kinda cute.. they care about school n all. They are so good. They are too good.”

 It sounded like a lament rather than a praise. There was so much pain in these words.

 “That sounds nice, bunny. Sounds like your sibling learned a lot of nice things from you. I am sure that must be a lot.”

 She took a deep breath.

 Remy gave a meaningful nod towards Emile who, in turn, licked faer lips.

 “I am proud of you but it is important to rest. Will you let us give you ice cream and take care of you?”

 For a moment, the only answer was the bright light coming from the moon. Pale white illuminated the meadow. The stars were shining as always but their light was so far away, it barely reached them. From them, it seemed as if they were not bright at all because the moon was reflecting the light so prettily, it overpowered them all.

 “Only if you get dumb with me and we do funny things?”

 Remy squeezed their hands together, his second joining the pile of fingers.

 “Of course. Now, text your baby sibling.”

 The smaller one pulled out his phone and sloppily pulled out a phone.

 “Jus do?”

 The three got together, packing up their things and obviously taking their things with them.

 “What is this?”

 Remy followed Emile’s finger pointing at a bag of trash. He shrugged in return.

 “We collected trash because Virgil really hates littering, you know?”

 The mentioned bean shook his head and shrugged.

 “Fuck pollution”, she defended herself as the taller one lead her to the car they shared, “see you in a bit?”

 Remy texted Logan with Virgil’s phone and sent an address to their chat with Emile.

 “Yo, I sent you the place we are going to drive to. You got that?”

 Fae shrugged.

 “I can literally just follow you guys like the little shadow I am. Just don’t drive like speeding dicks and I will be fine.”

 Remy nodded. Virgil mumbled in agreement and pushed the trashbag into the car’s trunk. It was his car after all. Remy did not have an own car yet. It was more of a shared thing.

 Together, they drove over to Virgil. On the way, Logan texted them how they would stay with a friend called Patton. Since Virgil knew Patton more than enough, she did not freak out but instead shrugged it off, told Remy and agreed under the condition of driving Logan there with the others.

Logan.. did not seem to mind.

Did they know Emile would join in?

 Whether they did, the three arrived.

Virgil already munched on the space brownies, happily nibbling at the dark chocolatey delight of deep, sweet-bitter taste.

It was an experience.

 At least there were no nuts in this.

Well... walnuts would probably be fine..

 The three got out, one by one. Virgil first and Emile last.

She patiently took faer and then his hand before leading them over to the small apartment complex with the many little doors. It was a humble little location, the flats looked like miniature versions of actual living spaces for human beings but it was just enough for the modest taste of the tired middle pal of the trio.

 He nudged the others towards the building and climbed the stairs.

 “The brownies are tasty, Em. You are a real baker genius or.. like, something like that.”

She blinked at the intense lights. One of the white lights was flickering every now and then and it was somewhat bothersome to the eye.

 “You ate them already?”

 A bit of surprise tinged Emile’s voice. Remy held back a laughter.

 “Yeah, Virgil is a thirsty and hungry hoe, no wonder he did that.”

 Something in his words screamed “get used to it”. Fae did not know what to feel about this but took it with the humour of a baby adult.

 “Not to take advantage of that but I don’t hate that.”

 Virgil giggled.

 “Shhhh, wait until Logan is gooohne,, They is a really clever baby sib thing, you know.”

 More chuckled filled the air and made the stairway echo in giggles and delight from the trio.

 They got up eventually, settling on the 7th level where Virgil unlocked apartment C and pushed the door open.

 “Yo, I am back! Don’t cook meth, the neighbours will get jealous.”

 He dropped the key in a little bowl on a shelf that leaned against the wall for support. The hallway welcomed the trio with faded colours and old, creaking wood planks as ground.

Emile blinked at the floor with a frown.

 “Do you want us to keep our shoes on?”

 Remy shook his head, his mouth opening to answer but a sound interrupted them.

A voice, more specifically.

 “Virgil, please refrain from making comments of such kind. It is highly unlikely for anyone around here to cook methane, let alone you or me.”

 A composed voice, stone-faced according to Emile’s feelings, replied to Virgil’s dismissive words and lazy greeting.

 The trash was still in Remy’s hands.

 “Fuck, I forgot this shit. You mind?”

 Logan appeared. Well, it had to be Logan unless Emile had missed about another person living with her - and Logan.

The sibling was younger than Virgil, their face more tan yet somewhat soft and void of the exhaustion the life of emerging adulthood had already put on Virgil’s dark eyes. Especially evident were how there were no bags under Logan’s eyes while Virgil seemed to have never slept in his entire life, perhaps.

 Maybe she did not sleep so everyone else could sleep? Like a sandman.

 Logan was dressed in something reminding Remy of a suit. It was this undershirt-kinda thing Emile identified as waist coat. It was dark and hugged their slender figure. Blue? It looked pretty much like rather dark blue. They seemed a bit taller than Virgil, around as tall as Remy, almost - not quite. Their shirt was white and looked so ironed out, Emile could not even find a single wrinkle.

They were not wearing shoes but only white socks and long black pants. The waistcoat had a single chain or metal leading to a little pocket.

 “Hello Remy, a pleasure to see you again. Do not worry about the bag. I will take it with me on the way down - “

 Virgil piped up.

 “WE! You are not going alone! It is dark and scary and I am your big shit and am telling you that you gotta hold my hand and be driven to your friend.”

 Logan rolled their eyes, dark orbs behind black frames seemingly shrinking in something like annoyance.

However, there was a fond smile on their lips despite it being small. It was still there and when Virgil approached the sibling for a good old hug, they received it and even returned it, even if it was not as passionate.

 Something warm pumped through Emile’s face and chest.

Seeing the two siblings cuddle made fae feel all giddy and comfortable.

 “Of course. I agreed to your conditions after all.”

 Only now Emile realised Logan was wearing a tie. They adjusted it despite it being in perfect position. Nothing was wrong with it..

It..

It had a pattern like constellations on it. Yes, clearly. Fae could see Leo right under their neck.

 “Hello, you must be Virgil’s new friend. I am Logan.”

 The, the small baby sibling was before faem, hand stretched out and dark eyes looking into faem as if it was a challenge to look serious and convincing.

It was more than effective, to be frank.

 “Yeah, I am Emile. Fae/faer, please. You use anything but they/them?” They nodded a bit, their facial features softening somewhat.

 “Thank you”

 The words came out like a whisper. Emile smiled.

 “Virgil, I am fucking adopting this kid, you have to marry me or some shit. This is now my bastard child!”

 A hysterical fit of giggles could be heard while Logan was silently rolling his eyes so hard, Remy swore they moved a bit out of his face’s centre.

Remy pouted audibly.

 “Ya get rights on my sibling, I don’t make the rules. Logan, you are loved by these dummies! It is the law, we are your personal protection squad!”

 Remy blew out some air but nodded.

 “Yeppers, we will do the illegal shit with you to keep you safe. We are gotta fake your a voting ID so you can change the world already.”

 The tallest of the pals sucked in a breath.

 “I know how to fake a voting ID! I made myself one, too! Hold on!”

 Logan turned towards the new person, this Emile guy. The sound of giggles was still around and surely coming closer.

 “Hey, hey, make sure to have it be a good fake. Can’t have the good kiddo fuck up a great lifeeee”, she argued, “They will be super fine because they are a great and lovely person. LOGAN I LOVE YOU!”

 They closed their eyes instead of rolling them. Their lips curled further into a more than evident smile and a small hint of pink tinted their pale cheeks.

 “I l-love you too, Virgil. Please calm down, it is quite alright. I am just me.”

 Virgil was back by now, a little box in his hands.

 “Shut up, be proud of yourself. You have amazing grades, super engagement in different projects and activities and you are a bright person with great competences. You are trying and working a lot to get this far and I am proud of you. You should be, too. I barely finished school with my shitty grades. It was mostly pity”

 Virgil blinked softly. Her hand gently brushed over their cheek and carefully patted its side. Emile and Remy moved out of the way to give the siblings some space. They obviously had a moment going on.

 “I don’t care what you make of yourself. I just want you to be happy and proud of what you do. We all know we were not born to be perfect and yet you are here and doing this.. this fucking badassery of ace-ing all ya exams and life shit and all.”

 She scooted closer.

 “I know Patton likes quiche I make, so I packed some for you two to share. I put money in, too. Get snacks and order something if you two need it, alright? I love you, kiddo. I really do.”

 He snuggled up to them and gave their pale cheeks a soft smooch. The elder sibling mumbled softly.

 “If you complain about the money, I will bite your nose. Just take it. Financial worries are mine, not yours.”

 Logan looked at Virgil, a shadow darkening their pale features. It was like a tree branch in the night, throwing a scary shadow into the room of a young and gullible child.

They abandoned the doubt and shook it off with a new sense of hardness in their eyes. It was sparkling determination.

 “Have fun with your friends, please. I want you to take care of yourself, too. You and I both know that a good social life helps your mental health which, in turn, positively affects your overall well-being.”

 Virgil blinked, happy beams radiating from her old orbs.

 “You are the best sibling I could have ever wished for, Lo.”

She cleared her throat, wiping over her wet eyes.

“Time to fucking get ya to you friend! Ree will drive you and I will have ice-cream like a real champ!”

 “REEEE, EEEEEM! Let us gOOOO!”

 The middle man came back in, Emile right on his ass.

 “You finished your drama? You won’t stab us if we come back in?”

 Virgil giggled under the scolding look from his sibling. She shrugged dismissively.

 “I am ready to go. I will wait in the car.”

 They got pushed the little container into their backpack and put it over their shoulders before grabbing the trash and retrieving the keys from his sibling.

 “Nuu, you are a baby and we gotta go with you. Reeeemileeey~ Come with me~”

 The two got ready and joined as requested.

 “DId you fuse our names?!”

 There was an unusual amount of excitement in Emile’s voice. Not that they were not usually excited and happy but this was on a whole new level. There was a sense of knowledge and expectation in faer tone of voice.

It was difficult for Virgil to put her finger on it, considering she started feeling a bit more of an effect from the edibles she had consumed. Remy noted the excitement with his own piece of interest.

 “I fuuuused your names and they fit together sooo well!”

 As Virgil giggled, Emile’s eyes seemed to double in size, more so the black pools in the middle of these wild orbs.

Remy blinked at this change, his own curiosity swinging into the direction of excitement as well.

 He wanted to know about the things that got Emile to bounce on faer feet like the most adorable danger stick in the whole history of humankind.

Something glowed in these mysterious eyes and Remy wanted to know more about it.

 Well, for know it was time to take responsibility and drive them all to Patton.

He still wanted to know about it, so he took a chance when they had arrived and the three remained in the car alone, Virgil cuddled up to Emile and holding hands with glowing cheeks and a free heart.

Logan waved goodbye one last time and disappeared into the warm home of a loving family. A whole family.

 “Em, what is so exciting about fusions? Do you like those kinda things?”

 For a moment, his mind wandered as he tapped his foot down onto the pedals and started driving again in first gear before shifting higher.

He did not have the opportunity to glance into the rear-view mirror and see their face light up like a burning candle. Certainly, if he knew about how much he had missed, he would have cursed his own care about safe driving.

 “I L-O-V-E fusions!”

 A giggled followed faer sudden spray of words. The excitement pitched their voice into a higher vocal range.

Unexpected but lovely in a way it made Remy’s heart throb with just as much energy as Emile offered him. He let himself giggle a bit while Virgil was nothing but a puddle of chuckles and snickers. The half-naked pal hugged Emile close, seemingly absorbing their enthusiasm.

 “Why do you like fusions so much, lovely?”

 Remy licked his lips, tasting the delicious energy in the air. He relished in just a quick glance into the rear-view mirror in which he saw Virgil and Emile bonking the sides of their heads together, the latter bouncing a bit in faer seat.

 His heart was blooming.

These two were the summer of his life.

 “Th.-they !! Do y-you know of-of S-Steve Un-Univ-verse?”

 Their hands were everywhere, Remy noticed. Virgil put himself on high-five duty whenever these hands moved places and suddenly appeared next to him or in front of his nose or behind Remy’s head.

To her, it was as if these hands appeared out of nowhere while Emile fawned his happy juices into every direction of this car.

 Remy readily took in everything he could with a smile on his lips and promises in his chest. Sadly, he still had to shake his head but he prompted them.

 “Enlighten us, would you?”

 Fae continued, hands still moving in a somewhat erratic manner.

 “S-So in - I .. I mean, y-you know”, they started, then stopped, then started again just to take a short pause.

Faer face fell into a statute-like aesthetic as fae deliberated what to say. The happy glows in their orbs were forever-persistent.

 “Mw, Em.. Emiiiiile”, Virgil cooed softly, patting their hair, “You are wonderful.. your.. y... sEt.. pf.. ph-... STEVEN is your FRIEND and really wonderpoof too.”

 She nodded, a sense of importance surrounding her. It gave her an expression of wisdom and some sort of... safe space. There was acceptance in his features.

Even when he mispronounced and misunderstood everything going on.

Virgil eagerly patted Emile’s poofy hair while nodding more, her happy curls jumping up and down the sides of her face like excited monkeys.

 “So-sO! Steven is-is a human a-and he is part of the-the cry-c..c-crystal gems who are basically alien stones with magic. Oh, and they have weird adventures t-t-together and ev-everything is soft and ni-nice!”

 Fae bounced in the back seat and Virgil enthusiastically moved along without even having a single clue of what was happening at the moment.

They clapped and she mimicked the movements with confused nods and delayed yaps.

 “Magic Stpehen.. ph..phatven...”

 Virgil looked at his hands, confusion spinning in their lost eyes. Maybe staring into her fingers could answer her the question of how it came that “Steven” was so difficult to pronounce.

They did not, if you wondered, too.

 Emile smiled, gently brushing through his hair.

The most gentle of all smiles adorned their face as they soothed Virgil ever so patiently. The flapping piece of oversized jacket and mad boxers eventually nestled in faer lap and hugged these legs calmly. Every now and then, Emile would receive a loving pat to their skin because Virgil forgot what they felt like. Or because she was curious about what skin did when being touched and moved and shoved or patted.

 They patiently stroked his hair further while Remy had a hard time keeping his gay together and himself focused.

Luckily, they arrived and got back up, Virgil insistently patting and hugging every door, pole and wall they did not pull him away from.

 She was a really excited person in this state.

 When they got into the apartment, Remy lead them to the couch, considering Virgil was a bit less in the position to know where anything or anyone was.

They snuggled up again, this time Virgil was in the middle and fidgeting with a magic cube.. rubrix.. thingy.. hihi, it felt funny!

 “Remy, loook!”

 She pushed the cube into his hands and hugged Emile close.

 “Magical cube”, Virgil explained, voice mimicking the tone of a captivating conspiracy video.

 “Very magical, cube”, fae agreed.

 Remy nodded.

 “Magical like these rad fucking shits you made. We are gonna see more than stars, we will see an entire galaxy!”

 His words were purring in amusement.

 Virgil lazily blinked at Remy, then slowly turned to Emile and just.. dropped their head to the side, completely overdoing the “tilting your head” business.

 “Sooo.. are we.. a fusion?”

 A clank could be heard and suddenly, Virgil whined and hugged the two close.

 “The magical cube disappeared! I...m-..magic!”

His voice dropped into the sounds of scary camp fire horror stories once more.

“...m a g i c.”

 The tallest of the three pushed another biscuit to Remy who gladly consumed the sweet, spacey treat.

 “You are magic, you two fusers”, Emile purred back in reply and gently snuggled back, carefully pecking Virgil. This time, a whine arouse from Remy’s throat.

Emile shook faer head, a wild grin decorating this precious face.

 Was that a little scar on their cheekbone? Oh, those cheekbones...

 Remy got so lost in Emile’s pretty face, he barely noticed it coming close, Emile’s eyes closing sensually, slowly...

Then, their lips brushed against one another. Lonely mouth and alluring goal meeting and pressing together, closing around one another like embracing lovers after a long period of distancing.

 “waHOOOO, G A Y!!”

 Virgil cheered for them, leaving the youngest of the three to pull away from Remy, skin like cherry blossoms in the heat of spring.

Fae simply let him, innocently commenting with nothing but a whipping of faer eyelashes towards the shy one.

 “Is that new for you, Virgil?”

 The playful breeze of something like a rivalry returned, nestling between the moody couple of different extremes. The trio’s shortest and longest member looked at each other, a special dynamic reigning between them and drawing them closer.

 “New that he gets the kisses first”, Virgil answered in unabashed honesty.

 Instead of hiding behind witty remarks and sarcastic or snarky comments, she off-handedly pronounced the issue and pulled Emile in, gently pulling at the leather collar of this damn self-improved jacket.

It was surprisingly soft, compared to last time, at least.

 Their lips were raspberries squeezing together ever so slightly, merely touching more than for a fleeting moment.

 Virgil was the one to pull away.

It was Emile’s turn to be flustered at this moment. Fae slowly backed up, settling into faer space on the couch and taking another one of the beaked treats. They nibbled on them, hiding their face while Virgil pushed her legs onto faer lap and rested her head on Remy’s happy thighs. His skirt was rolled up a little so he got to feel his hair.

 “You two taste so sweet...”

 Remy shrugged, face still ablaze without his knowledge. He suspected it, though.

 “Hey, Em. You going to college when the holidays are over?”

 The taller one took the moment to appreciate Remy’s timing and tasteful change of topics while Virgil delightfully brushed over his exposed stomach in mild interest.

 “I am just here for a summer job, I guess I told you guys”, fae mumbled softly as faer fingers moved to catch up to Virgil’s tracing fingerpads.

“After that I am going to Yban University further up the north. What about you guys?”

 Virgil was chuckling and squirming when Emile started stroking his exposed skin.

He was ticklish, Remy remembered fondly.

 “Virgil is gonna go up there too, but for working. So you can hang out with Logan if you want to!”

 Remy winked and Emile stuck out their tongue at him.

 “Don’t fuck the baby sibling.”

 The small anger dwarf flailed and gasped.

 “Nu, fuck me instead!”

 Emile fucking starting to cough up during a weird mix of laughing and choking on his own mind and his partners’ words.

 “Not na- now!”, fae gasped out, wiggling a bit but staying in place, more or less.

 “Man”, Remy started, softly offering his hand for Emile to hold while his other was still carding through Virgil’s hair, “I will go up and study. It is surreal.”

 He blinked.

 “Holy fuckening, we are going to the same spot! I will move in with Virgil, like, fucking literally. As soon as I get my acceptance email and letter.. I .. I am.. gonna.. I will fuck your landlord.”

 Emile was playing with their hair while stroking over these exposed legs.

 “You two.. wanna hang out if we all end up in the same spot? That would be cool.”

 Remy patted the spot close to him and gestured towards Emile, then back to the spot as he started to lay down. They got the message and followed suit.

Together, the three cuddled up, now laying and still high off their butts.

 “It is perfect”, Em yawned, gently kissing the back of Remy’s hand.

 Virgil nodded softly and pushed her nose against the other two pals’ noses.

 “If you guys are with me, I can do all. I will get all done. I can do it.”

 At least he tried saying that. His words came out as a jumble of weird sounds.

Laughter erupted and Virgil snuggled up, eyes closed and gently smooching the two before drifting off to sleep while the others whisper-screamed whatever thing seemed absolutely hilarious at the moment.

 If they would stay together, she knew they would all be fine. They would all make it.

 He was certain of it.