#binary choice contest

[inventors-fair]

Modal Duality Entries! ~

@bergdg — Dictate of Keranos @bread-into-toast — Pharika's Intervention @curiooftheheart — Mabel's Intervention @deg99 — Mystifying Mooze @dimestoretajic — Double or Nothing @fluffycattens — Exarch of Divinity @harunakonomi — Soporific Somnobara @helloijustreadyourpost — Adapt or Perish @hypexion — Umbrafall @i-am-the-one-who-wololoes — Peruse the Library @izzet-always-r-versus-u — Defy the Odds @melancholia-ennui — Last Days of the Empire @misterstingyjack — Industrialize @mrcatfishing — The Shadowmirror @nine-effing-hells — Bane of Frontiers @piccadilly-blue — Hazardous Research Zone @reaperfromtheabyss — Gift of Iroas @sparkyyoungupstart — Admirer's Charm @teaxch — Arkbow Shot @wildcardgamez — Pantry Raid @xenobladexfan — Ransack the Evidence Locker @yourrightfulking — Dreamspore Thallid

Thank you all for your entries! @abelzumi

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁  ! ⺌ . ⸺  NPE! 

PART ONE! | Volume I

Synopsis; "So, you’re an alien, huh?" Yeah, sure, maybe you’re a little... different. But honestly, who isn’t? The earthlings think you’re weird? Nope. It’s just that they’re a bunch of clueless humans, totally missing the point. You, on the other hand, have a higher calling. A mission to discover the meaning of life—you know, the whole ‘why am I here, and what am I supposed to be doing’ thing. Simple, right?

Except, uh... there’s a small hiccup. You don’t even know what species you are, because someone forgot to leave the alien instruction manual. Oops. So, while you’re out there doing some random side gig (you know, the one that might help you find out more about your roots and, oh yeah, pay the rent), you accidentally get tangled up in the lives of two earthlings.

Of course, you swear to protect them because, well, you kind of owe them. Maybe. Or maybe not. Who’s to say? Either way, your purpose might get a little... distracted. But hey, priorities, right?

Pairing ── Dan Da Dan x Alien! Fem/Neutral? Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Manga Spoilers, Violence/Death, Blood, Invasion of Privacy, Invasion of Mind, Abduction, Kidnapping, Angst, Murder, Disturbing Content, Corruption, Isolation,Paranoia, Manipulation, Unintended Time Travel Mishaps, Alien Romance Tropes, Sudden Existential Crises, Unexplained Tentacle Appearances, Turbo Granny's Sass, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Gravity-Defying Physics, Psychic Overload, Ambiguous Yōkai Allegiances, Excessive Hair-Related Powers, Sudden Dance Battles in Crisis, Outdated Alien Fashion Choices, Malfunctioning Spacecraft Humor, Intense Staring Contests, Time-Dilated Cliffhangers, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Polyamory, LGBTQ+ Content, ¿Gender-fluid or Non-binary Character? (Not with respect to pronouns, but to their genitals xd), Unconventional Relationship Dynamics, Consent Issues in Alien Interactions, Mind-altering Love Spells, Extreme Jealousy, Existential Dilemmas on Love and Identity, Mind-Controlling Aliens.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Oh my god, how did this happen 😱 sorry to everyone (@flwes & @redberrysstuff) who saw the incomplete story, I feel SO embarrassed. Ugh, I swear, autocorrect and my clumsiness are going to kill me one of these days. :"(( But seriously, I promise the full version is coming, just give me a second to fix it.

"Idiot! Moron! Squid! Tuna!" Momo Ayase shouted from the ground, her face flushed with rage as she watched her now ex-boyfriend walk away with that annoying mix of guilt and annoyance in his eyes. "Never call me again!"

"Momo? Are you okay? Or should I sign up for the next round of sea insults?" asked a familiar voice behind her.

Momo turned around, still frowning, but the sight disarmed her a bit. There was Y/n Seigai, with that carefree energy that always seemed straight out of a movie. She wore a short plaid skirt and a white blouse that highlighted her figure, complemented by long socks and platform shoes with a puma print that screamed confidence. Her makeup was simple yet striking, enough to make anyone turn to look at her. And, as always, she had something in her hand: this time, a frozen yogurt popsicle that she licked absently as if nothing in the world could disturb her calm.

"Late again, huh?" Momo huffed, crossing her arms and standing up, her gaze as severe as a frustrated mother.

"What? Was that a 'thank you for coming to the rescue, Y/n'? Because if so, your tone needs a little work," Y/n replied with a cheeky smile, making an exaggerated gesture to offer her a lick of her popsicle. "Want some? Frozen yogurt cures broken hearts. It's science."

"I don't want your stupid popsicle, idiot! And stop changing the subject! You're late to school again! Do you know how many times I've been asked why you can't arrive on time? I feel like your babysitter!"

Y/n theatrically sighed, placing a hand on her chest as if Momo had wounded her pride. "Oh, Momo. Always so responsible, so punctual... except when you decide to sleep in on Mondays. Remember last Monday? Because I do; you were running out with a toast in your mouth."

Momo opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it, blushing a little. "That was different! And don’t change the subject!"

"Okay, okay, sorry, mom," Y/n said with a mischievous smile, raising her hands in a sign of surrender. "But in my defense, it's not my fault that the coffee at that corner is so good it makes me lose track of time."

"You have a watch on your wrist, Y/n! And a phone with alarms! ALARMS!"

"Well, my alarms and I have a complicated relationship..." Y/n murmured as she took another lick of the popsicle.

Momo couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh, although her lips curled slightly into a smile. That was the dynamic with Y/n: serious and responsible when necessary but with enough chaotic moments to drive her crazy. And even though sometimes she wanted to give her a good lecture, she couldn't deny that Y/n always knew how to lift her spirits, even on days like today.

"Come on, Momo. Let's get to class. I promise we'll make it before the bell rings... probably," Y/n said, offering her the popsicle as a peace gesture.

"Probably isn’t good enough! And I don’t want your silly popsicle," Momo shot back, but she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as they started walking together.

As they crossed the school gates, Momo and Y/n couldn’t help but draw attention. They were, without a doubt, a striking pair: Momo, with her natural charisma and perfectly polished gyaru style, walked with purpose while continuing to rant about her now ex-boyfriend; Y/n, on the other hand, exuded a magnetic nonchalance, her skirt swaying with each step and a yogurt popsicle still in her hand, as if school were just another runway in her day.

"And then he has the nerve to say I’m playing hard to get! Can you believe it?" Momo gestured dramatically, as if still arguing with her ex.

"Mm-hmm," Y/n murmured, not stopping her slow lick of the popsicle. "Sounds like someone needs a 'How Not to Be an Idiot' manual. Should I mail him one?"

"Not even that! He’d probably lose it, like he loses all common sense," Momo shot back, rolling her eyes.

As they made their way down the hallway, students stepped aside to let them pass—some admiring their style, others whispering comments among themselves. Momo was so engrossed in her complaints she barely noticed the stares. Y/n, however, threw the occasional wink or offered a carefree smile, as if she were used to being the center of attention.

"Can you stop flirting with the entire hallway? I’m having a crisis here!" Momo snapped, giving her a light nudge.

"Flirting? I’m just being friendly. But if you want all my attention, Momo, you only have to ask," Y/n replied with a mischievous grin.

"God, you’re unbearable!"

Finally, they reached their classroom, where their other two friends, Miko and Muko, were waiting.

Miko was seated by the window, her small bow perfectly in place and her uniform impeccable, though always with her personal touch. Her beige sweater and loosely tied ribbon gave her a relaxed vibe, but her bright smile showed she was ready for a day full of energy.

Muko, in contrast, was impossible to ignore. Her tan skin stood out against her blonde hair styled into pigtails, and the manba makeup she wore proudly added a bold edge to her look. Her uniform followed the same pattern as the other girls', but on her, everything seemed a bit more daring—from the slightly oversized sweater to the way her loose socks fell perfectly over her sandals.

"Wow! Took you long enough," Miko said with a smile as she saw them walk in. "I thought you’d actually be on time today."

"Tell that to Miss 'Coffee is More Important Than Punctuality,'" Momo replied, giving Y/n an accusatory look.

"Me? I arrived just in time to make this spectacular entrance," Y/n said, spinning dramatically before flopping into her seat.

"Jealous, Miko?" Muko chimed in as she adjusted one of her pigtails. "They walk in, and the whole hallway stares. People only look at us when Miko shouts something ridiculous."

"Hey! That was one time," Miko retorted, crossing her arms with feigned indignation.

Momo let out a sigh, but a smile began to form on her lips. Being with them was always like this: chaotic, fun, and somehow reassuring.

"Alright, girls, now that we’re all here, I need advice. How do you get over an idiot who just wants you to pay for everything and only cares about sleeping with you?"

"Easy," Y/n said, raising her popsicle as if it were a trophy. "You get over him by being yourself: brighter, more fabulous, and completely out of his league. Like always, Momo."

"Amen," added Muko, lifting her phone for a quick selfie with Miko, who automatically struck a pose.

Momo rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. Yes, her group was a mess in its own way, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

"Okay, seriously, what happened? Why are you so upset? We know it’s not because of Y/n, because when you’re mad at her, you yell louder than a megaphone," Miko said, raising an eyebrow with that teasing attitude she always had when she wanted to get under Momo’s skin.

Momo let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto the desk. "Nothing... that idiot dumped me, and then I started insulting him... using fish names."

Y/n, who was lounging back in her chair with her feet on the desk as if she were at home, couldn’t hold back a laugh. "Fish names. Like ‘Tuna’ and ‘Squid’. Because I’m sure that hurt his feelings a lot. Wow, Momo, terrifying. Do you really think that’s going to change his mind?"

"Ha, I’m dying," Muko said, testing a bit of her makeup while laughing. "Fish names aren’t insults, Momo. What were you expecting, ‘Shark’ or ‘Piranha’? Now those might be scary!"

Momo frowned, looking at her friends as if they were aliens. "You’re supposed to comfort me! He was my first boyfriend! My first, girls!" Momo waved her hands dramatically, as if she had lost something truly valuable.

Muko looked at her with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. "We told you to forget about him, Momo. It was obvious he wasn’t worth it."

Y/n nodded with mock seriousness, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. "Yeah, can you remind me what was supposed to be so great about him? Was it the guy who always wore shirts two sizes too small? Or was it his talent for making you feel bad every time you talked about your dreams?"

"It’s just... he looked like Ken Takakura," Momo replied, as if it were an irrefutable justification, throwing her hands up as if there were nothing more to say.

The three friends sighed in unison, a sound so synchronized it could have been rehearsed.

"There she goes again..." Muko muttered, shaking her head and placing a hand on her forehead in a dramatic pose.

"Ugh, here we go," Miko said, glancing at Y/n and raising an eyebrow. "The story of the guy who ‘looked like’ Ken Takakura. Momo, are you sure you don’t have a poster of him at home?"

"She doesn’t just have a poster, let me tell you," Y/n said, remembering the time she stayed over at Momo’s house while her grandmother was away for a few days.

Y/n, who had just finished her popsicle and was now grinning mockingly at the others, tossed the stick out the window with perfect precision. "Here we go with your nonsense again, Momo. First it was ‘Ken Takakura,’ then it’ll be ‘Tom Cruise,’ and next you’ll tell me you fell for some guy who looks like an anime character. Stop idealizing guys, seriously."

Momo shot her a glare. "It’s not the same, Y/n! Ken Takakura is an icon, a real man!"

"Yeah, a movie man probably under contract with boredom, because guys like him don’t exist in real life," Y/n said, striking a dramatic pose as she crossed her arms.

Momo shrugged. "I don’t know what it is about him… but there’s something, I swear."

"What he has is that he’s in movies, not real life," Miko replied with a somewhat philosophical tone, as if she’d just imparted a profound truth about reality.

"So what, huh!? I like tough guys, like Ken Takakura!" Momo shouted, raising her hand as if she’d just made a worldwide announcement about her love for cinematic men.

Miko and Muko exchanged glances and, with almost perfect synchronization, replied, "Momo, we’ve got a surprise for you… those men are extinct."

Momo immediately dropped her head, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her. Her shoulders slumped, and her smile vanished in an instant. "What? Extinct? That can’t be true!" she muttered, as if she’d just taken a direct hit to the heart.

"Sorry, Momo," Miko said with a mischievous smile. "Men like that don’t exist anymore. All we’ve got now are guys in sweatpants with cat wallpapers on their phones."

Momo let out a deep sigh, an exaggerated expression of sorrow crossing her face. "So what?! What am I supposed to do with my life? Settle for guys who don’t even know what a good hairstyle is?!"

With the theatrics worthy of a telenovela star, Momo stood from her seat, leaving the others watching as she exited the classroom as if she’d just lost the most important battle of her life.

"Did what we said hurt her feelings?" Miko asked, a faint smile on her face, though she already knew the answer.

"No," Y/n replied, standing up without looking back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and concern. "It hurt because it’s true."

Momo, on the verge of stepping into the hallway, didn’t notice Y/n following her. As Y/n caught up, she saw Momo walking with slumped shoulders, as if she were on a farewell mission for her love life.

Y/n walked up to her side and, with a playful smile, nudged her shoulder lightly. "Come on, Momo, don’t be like that. There are still guys out there who aren’t complete disasters."

Momo gave her a sad look. "I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe tough guys are just a fantasy. Like Ken Takakura. A legend of the past!"

"Well, if you ask me, the real tough guy is standing right here!" Y/n said, pointing a thumb at herself with a cheeky grin. "Forgot about us? We’re the tough ones now."

Momo glanced at her sideways, a flicker of humor returning to her eyes. "The problem is I don’t have time for girls who make bad jokes."

Y/n followed her, chuckling softly. "I’m the best company you could ask for, and I’ll prove it!"

The two walked down the hallway, leaving the classroom behind, Momo still a little down but starting to relax, with Y/n beside her as always—joking, stylish, and promising that there was always something better than a movie fantasy.

"Let’s go, Momo," Y/n said with a sly smile. "Tough guys may not exist anymore, but we’re unstoppable!"

Momo couldn’t help but smile, even if just a little. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad after all.

As Momo and Y/n passed by the nearest classroom, they couldn’t help but notice a group of boys throwing paper balls at a smaller, scrawnier boy with a hairstyle clearly modeled after Nobita from Doraemon.

Momo frowned immediately, spotting the bullying behavior. Y/n tensed beside her. Both of them hated bullies, and they weren’t about to stand by and do nothing.

One of the boys, grinning stupidly, picked up a paper ball and said loudly, "Stick a magnet in it! That’s gotta hurt!"

As he prepared to throw it, now with a magnet inside, a shadow loomed over him. Turning around, he found Momo sitting in front of him, her expression unimpressed. Behind him, Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her gaze so intense it could’ve melted anything in its path.

"Hey," Momo asked, looking at the boy with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. "What are you reading?"

"Uh… this…" the boy stammered, glancing nervously between the bullies and the girls.

The boys throwing the paper balls didn’t seem to realize what was happening. They turned back to their antics, ignoring the two girls who weren’t about to stay quiet.

Momo quickly stood up, shooting the bullies one last look. "What a bunch of idiots," she said, rolling her eyes. "It’s like this world is full of losers."

Y/n sighed, observing the chaos with a smile that hid something deeper. She was about to leave with Momo until her eyes caught the title of the magazine the boy was reading.

"The Occult," she read aloud, raising an intrigued eyebrow and smiling faintly. "Interesting…" she murmured before stepping toward Momo, leaving the minor chaos of the classroom behind.

"Come on, Momo," Y/n teased as she walked alongside her. "You look like you just had to pay taxes or something. Relax."

"You’d feel the same way if you were surrounded by idiots!" Momo snapped, crossing her arms indignantly.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice thundered behind them:

"MOMO AYASE! Y/N SEIGAI!"

"Huh? Now what?" Momo said, turning around with a frown.

It was the nerd from earlier. He was running toward them with all his might, gasping for breath as if he’d just escaped a marathon. When he reached them, he stopped so abruptly he almost fell over.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he shouted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What?" Y/n asked, visibly confused, glancing at Momo with a raised eyebrow.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he repeated, louder this time, with an oddly intense conviction. "That’s the only reason someone like you would talk to someone like me!"

Momo blinked slowly and then let out an exaggerated sigh. "You’ve already said that. Can you switch up your dialogue? You sound like a broken record."

Y/n put a hand to her face, muttering, "Have you lost your mind? Where did you even get that crazy idea?"

The boy looked at them with desperate eyes, as if he was about to reveal some cosmic secret. "I’m talking about this!" he exclaimed, pulling something out as if presenting irrefutable proof.

Both girls tilted their heads simultaneously, trying to figure out what he was holding.

"Is that... a magazine?" Momo asked, squinting.

"Yes! A limited edition of The Occult! I know you’re into this because I saw how you looked at it earlier! President Obama has already been to Mars! This is the full story of the Pegasus Project! You’re into the paranormal!"

Momo closed her eyes and ran a hand over her forehead, clearly trying to summon some patience. "Look, genius, we’re not planning to be your best friends or start a paranormal book club with you. We don’t believe in UFOs or aliens."

"They’re not UFOs, they’re UAPs! Unidentified Aerial Phenomena!" the boy yelled enthusiastically, holding up the magazine like it was some sacred manifesto.

He began talking again, with a passion that seemed endless. Y/n listened with a half-smile, entertained by the chaos he brought with him. But soon, she felt Momo’s hand squeeze hers—a clear sign: Momo was about to lose her temper.

And then, she exploded.

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?! MY HEART’S BEEN BROKEN, AND I’M NOT IN THE MOOD! AND YOU’RE SO ANNOYING WITH YOUR NERD STORIES THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT, OKAY?! THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE NO FRIENDS!"

The boy froze, his mouth open and his eyes wide like saucers. Even Y/n, who was used to Momo’s outbursts, raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. Low blow," she murmured, mostly to herself.

Still fuming like a volcano, Momo pointed at the boy. "Don’t even think about talking to us again! Let’s go, Y/n!"

But Y/n didn’t move. She looked at the boy with some pity, her eyes softening. She stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey... she didn’t mean it, okay? She’s upset because she had a bad day. Don’t take it to heart," she said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Momo stopped and turned around, clearly picking up on Y/n’s accusatory tone even though she hadn’t said anything else. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine! I’m sorry, dude! I went too far. Happy now?"

She picked up the magazine that had fallen to the floor and handed it back to the boy, though her lips were still pursed. "But don’t get excited. I don’t believe in aliens. I’m more into ghosts and spirits, got it?"

Out of nowhere, the boy started laughing—not a polite chuckle, but a full-on belly laugh that echoed down the hallway.

"Don’t tell me you actually believe in spirits," he said, still laughing as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Momo froze, her frown deeper than ever. "Are you making fun of me?!" she shouted, stepping toward him with clenched fists.

Before anyone could react, the two launched into a heated argument. Momo insisted that spirits were real, while the boy passionately defended his UAPs. Y/n, stuck between them like a referee in a wrestling match, glanced toward the hallway. There stood Miko and Muko, watching the scene with amused smiles as they whispered to each other.

"These two are hopeless," Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling her patience wear thin.

Finally, she snapped.

"ENOUGH! YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!" she yelled, pushing them apart with a hand on each shoulder. Her voice was so loud that even Miko and Muko stopped laughing to peek in with curiosity.

"Here’s the deal," Y/n said, crossing her arms authoritatively. "If Momo proves that spirits exist, you’ll become her personal errand boy. But if you prove that UFOs—sorry, UAPs—are real, then she’ll be your errand girl."

Both of them stared at her in disbelief.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" they shouted in unison, their faces a mix of shock and panic.

Y/n smirked, her tone daring as if she’d just announced the rules of a reality show. "It’s a bet. Take it or leave it."

Momo opened her mouth to protest but then glanced at the boy with a competitive glint in her eyes. "Errand boy, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad."

The boy blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. Finally, he raised his chin, determined. "Fine! But get ready to carry my stuff when I win."

Momo narrowed her eyes. "Me? Carry your stuff? Dream on, loser!"

From the hallway, Miko and Muko started laughing again.

"This is gonna be good," Miko said.

"I’m definitely not missing this," Muko added.

Y/n sighed, looking at the two challengers with exhaustion. "Great, now you’re both committed. But if you waste my time, I swear both of you will end up being my errand boys!"

They both nodded, though they still exchanged defiant glares. Y/n couldn’t help but smile. This was either going to be very interesting… or completely chaotic.

⊹ ・・───・・・・───・・ ⊹

"What is this place?! I’M GONNA DIE OF FEAR!" screamed Momo, clinging to you like a lifeline in the middle of the ocean. Her grip was so tight that you seriously considered whether you’d pass out from lack of air or from the creepy atmosphere of the hospital.

"Relax, Momo," you sighed, trying to wiggle free while scanning the surroundings. Nagi University Hospital didn’t disappoint: graffiti-covered walls, broken windows, dark hallways, and that classic feeling that something was watching you from the shadows. "Though… yeah, this place is pretty unsettling."

"UNSETTLING?! THIS IS STRAIGHT OUT OF A HORROR MOVIE!" Momo shrieked, practically climbing on top of you.

On the other end of the phone, the guy sounded thrilled. "Stop whining! Nagi Hospital is one of the prime spots for UFO sightings! They say if you’re on the rooftop, you get abducted!"

"What’s abduction?" Momo whispered in your ear.

"It’s when aliens kidnap you and experiment on your body," you whispered back.

"Hey, genius, why the rooftop?" you asked, frowning as you tried to keep Momo at a reasonable distance. "What does the rooftop have to do with UFOs?"

"Because UFOs can’t land in the basement, OBVIOUSLY!" he replied triumphantly, as if he’d just solved a universal mystery.

"Are you kidding me…? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND BUILDS A HOSPITAL WHERE YOU GET ABDUCTED?!" shouted Momo, clearly on the verge of throwing the phone out the window.

"And who in their right mind goes willingly to an abandoned hospital for fun? Oh, wait... you two."

"THAT’S IT!" Momo yelled, red with indignation, and if you hadn’t stopped her, she probably would’ve smashed the phone against the nearest wall.

"Okay, okay, enough, both of you!" you interrupted, rubbing your temples. "Listen, Nobita of the UFO fandom, you focus on your tunnel and tell us if you see anything weird. We’ll try not to die or get abducted, deal?"

"Perfect! And record everything! This could change history!" he said excitedly, as if already drafting his speech for NASA.

"Sure, sure. If aliens take me, I’ll make sure to Facetime you," you muttered as Momo tugged at your arm.

"YOU GO FIRST! I’M NOT GOING ALONE!" Momo demanded, pointing at the dark hallway leading to the rusty elevator.

"Me first? I’d rather we just go home and call it a day. We’ve done enough for one evening."

Momo huffed but then crossed her arms and stared at the floor, thoughtful. "If we leave now, that idiot’s gonna laugh at us all week."

"What do you prefer? Him laughing at us, or us getting abducted? Because I know where my priorities lie, and aliens don’t make the top 10."

There was a brief silence as you both weighed your options. Finally, Momo sighed dramatically, like she’d just decided to climb a mountain. "Fine, but if anything weird happens, you handle it. I’m just gonna scream and run, deal?"

"I wouldn’t expect anything less from you," you replied with a tired smile as the two of you ventured into the dark hallway. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the empty walls, while the guy on the other end of the phone kept rambling about "electromagnetic phenomena and alien microwaves."

"By the way!" said the guy, as if he had just remembered something. "If you see strange lights, don’t get close. They’re a sign of imminent abduction."

"Great," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Anything else we should know before we get abducted?"

"Yeah, if you get abducted, ask them how they travel faster than light. I’m really interested in that!"

"WHAT KIND OF PSYCHOPATH THINKS ABOUT THAT AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" Momo screamed, and this time, you couldn’t help but laugh. At least the strange humor was helping to calm the terror a little.

"Hey, kid, let’s be honest... you’ve never seen a UFO in your life, have you?" Momo asked, crossing her arms and looking at him with a mix of disdain and curiosity.

The guy adjusted his glasses, clearly offended. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT REGRESSIVE HYPNOSIS IS?"

"DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" Momo snapped, pointing at him with an accusing finger. "I asked you something very simple."

He raised a finger, completely ignoring her while striking a dramatic pose. "THE QUESTION ISN’T WHETHER I’VE SEEN A UFO..."

"Uh-huh, sure," murmured Y/n, rolling their eyes.

"WHAT MATTERS ARE THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE THEORY!" he continued, in such a serious tone that it sounded like he was giving a lecture on astrophysics.

Momo sighed, clearly losing patience. "Again with your nonsense, oh my god. Don’t you ever get tired? Or do you recharge with solar batteries?"

"THIS ISN’T NONSENSE! IT'S SCIENCE! IT’S TRUE!" he protested, with an almost comical intensity.

"Yeah, sure. And how’s it going there, huh? Anything interesting besides your ‘theories’?" Momo said, looking around with feigned indifference as she tried to change the subject.

"I’VE ARRIVED... TOO SHY... SHY... TO THIS MYSTERIOUS PLACE..." the guy shouted on the phone, his voice echoing in the dark, damp tunnel. "WELL... NOW IT'S TIME TO PROVE IT!"

Momo frowned, not as convinced by his enthusiasm. "Please, do you really think this place is special? It’s all dark and super creepy!"

"YOU’RE SCARED! YOU KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE INTERNET, HAVEN’T YOU EVER SEEN A GHOST?!" the guy yelled, his voice strangely echoing in the tunnel.

"Not at all," Momo replied with a nervous laugh, though her gaze darkened a little.

"WHAT WAS THAT RANT ABOUT EARLIER?!" she shouted, pointing at the phone. "TAKE BACK EVERYTHING YOU SAID! How can you believe in spirits if you've never even seen one?"

"What's so strange about that?" Momo shot back, crossing her arms. She lowered her voice a bit before continuing: "I told you... my grandmother is a medium. She raised me because... well, because I don’t have parents."

There was a brief silence. Even the guy on the phone seemed to be lost for words. Y/n looked at Momo, noticing an expression they rarely saw on their friend: nostalgia mixed with sadness.

"I didn’t know..." murmured the guy on the other end of the line.

"Yeah," Momo continued, trying to appear indifferent. "My parents died when I was little. So my grandmother took care of me. But of course, my grandmother wasn’t a normal person. She always talked about spirits, spells, energies. Before going to school, she’d make me do a ritual to protect me from ‘bad vibes’ or something like that. And if I didn’t do it, she’d get mad at me."

"And did you do it?" Y/n asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Momo sighed. "At first, I had no choice. But... it was horrible. The other kids would laugh at me. Even the guy I liked... one day he saw me doing one of those rituals and, well, he thought I was an idiot. From that moment on, he started avoiding me. It was the worst."

"That sounds tough," Y/n commented, with a more serious tone.

"Yeah, it was," Momo admitted, shrugging. "I got really angry with my grandmother for that. I think I even said things I shouldn’t have. I felt really alone. But... now that I think about it, it wasn’t so much the ritual that bothered me. It was seeing how they laughed at my family, how they didn’t understand what it meant to us."

"It must have been hard," Y/n said.

"It was," Momo repeated, looking down. "I didn’t regain trust in my grandmother until recently. I realized that, even though her ideas were strange, she did it because she wanted to protect me. And... well, it's all I have left of my family. So, even though it’s frustrating sometimes... I guess I understand her."

The guy on the other end of the phone cleared his throat, breaking the mood. "Well... I don’t know much about spirits, but your grandmother sounds... interesting."

Momo laughed a little. "That’s a polite way to put it. But yeah, she is."

"My grandmother..." Momo began, her gaze fixed on the darkness of the hospital, as if she were speaking more to herself than to anyone else. "Her work as a medium... I don’t know if it’s real. I’ve never seen a spirit. Never. I don’t even know if my grandmother can really perceive them. But you know something? I don’t care. Because, at the end of the day, she raised me alone. She accepted me as her family, even when I didn’t understand anything she did or said. And, in some way, I believe in her."

There was a silence in the group. Even the guy on the phone seemed to have fallen silent for a moment, as if Momo’s words had struck him.

"That’s why I believe in spirits," she continued. "Not because I’ve seen them, but because I believe in my grandmother. And that’s enough for me."

Y/n looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. It was rare to hear Momo speak so sentimentally, but somehow, the sincerity of her words hit like a punch to the chest.

"And you?" Momo asked, turning back to the phone. "Why do you believe in aliens, huh?"

"That... that’s different," the guy replied, somewhat uncomfortable. "You don’t have to see something to know it exists. There’s evidence, theories, data..."

Momo let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, sure. Evidence and theories. But tell me something, genius: have you ever seen an alien with your own eyes?"

"Well... no," he admitted, somewhat hesitantly.

"Then what makes you different from me? Why do you assume that yours is more real than mine?"

"Because it’s science," he quickly responded, defensively.

"Science?" Momo raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "You call science looking at forums on the internet and reading conspiracy theories from people who’ve probably never left their basement?"

"It’s not the same!" he exclaimed, clearly frustrated.

Y/n decided to intervene before the conversation turned into an argument. "Okay, okay, both of you, calm down. Look, I think Momo has a point. But you do too, mysterious guy. At the end of the day, if you like something, you don’t need reasons to believe in it, right?"

They both fell silent, though their expressions showed they still had a lot to say.

"By the way," Momo added, slightly changing the subject, "you talk about aliens like you know everything about them, but... you have the voice of someone who doesn’t leave the house much, am I wrong?"

"What are you implying?" he asked, clearly offended.

"That you probably haven’t talked to another person in months, other than us on the phone," she replied with a teasing smile.

"That’s not true!"

"Uh-huh, sure."

Y/n chuckled softly while observing their dynamic. Even though they argued constantly, there was something strangely entertaining about their interactions.

"Anyway," Momo said, returning to the previous topic, "I don’t know if aliens exist, but one thing I’m sure of: we don’t need evidence to believe in what matters to us. That includes my grandmother... and I guess your aliens too."

"I guess you’re right," the guy admitted, in a somewhat resigned tone.

"Of course I am," she responded confidently.

"Well," Y/n interrupted, looking around, "before we continue to philosophize, can we just focus on not dying here? Because this place still gives me the creeps."

"I'll second that motion," Momo added, adjusting her hair. "Come on, Y/n. And you, kiddo, keep looking for your evidence. We'll do our thing."

"Don't forget to record something if you see a spirit!" he replied.

"Sure, and if we see an alien, we'll introduce you to it in person," Momo replied sarcastically as she walked with Y/n into the darkness of the hospital.

The boy moved slowly through the tunnel, his flashlight wobbling with each step. The place was dark, damp, and had a strange smell, as if time had stopped there. The echoes of his footsteps made him think he wasn't alone, although he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Suddenly, something stopped him.  A few feet in front of him, a figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was an old woman, hunched over, dressed in worn clothes and a hat that looked like it was from another era. Her face was covered in deep wrinkles, but what stood out the most was her twisted, almost grotesque smile.

“What the…?” he muttered, trying to back away.

The old woman looked up, and her eyes shone with an unnatural intensity.

The old woman took a step forward. “I’ll let you suck my… tits,” she said with a twisted grimace, “if you let me suck your dick.”

“WHAT?!” the boy shouted, jumping back. His flashlight shook in his hand, and, in his panic, his phone almost slipped from his grasp.

“Momo! Y/n! It’s a ghost!” he shouted into the phone, although he didn’t know if they were still on the line.

From the other side of the tunnel, Momo looked up, irritated.  “What is this idiot saying now?”

The boy ran as fast as he could, not daring to look back. Each step echoed like a drum in the tunnel, and his panting was deafening.

“This can’t be happening!” he shouted, stumbling slightly but staying on his feet. “It’s just an old exit! YES, THAT’S WHAT IT HAS TO BE!”

He reached his bike, parked at the entrance to the tunnel, and began to wobble as he tried to mount it. His hands shook so badly that he could barely grip the handlebars. “Come on, come on, come on!” he muttered frantically as he tried to pedal.

At that moment, the cell phone in his pocket rang again. It was Momo. With clumsy hands, he pulled out the phone and answered, still panting.

“AYASE! THAT THING IS FOLLOWING ME!”

“Don’t stop, you idiot!” Momo shouted from the other end of the line. “If it catches up with you, you’re done for!”  “It’s the curse of the Old Turbo! If you lose the race against her, she curses you!”

“WHAT!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE!?”

“Because I didn’t think anyone would be idiotic enough to provoke her!”

The boy looked back as he pedaled, and his blood ran cold. The old woman wasn’t running… she was floating towards him, with terrifying speed.

“NOOOO!” he shouted, pedaling even harder.

“Don’t look back!” Momo exclaimed, almost hysterical. “Just keep pedaling!”

Suddenly, the tunnel was filled with a strange echo.

Momo, who was still shouting into the phone, noticed something strange. “Hey, wait a minute! Y/n?”

The silence on the other side made her stop. She turned her head and realized that Y/n was no longer there.

“Y/n!? Where are you?!”  he screamed, looking around in panic.

The boy’s cell phone began to crackle with static, and the call was abruptly cut off. He was now alone, the echo of the Turbo Old Lady’s laughter filling the tunnel as he pedaled madly towards the exit.

Momo, still holding his own cell phone, felt a chill run down his spine. “This isn’t right… Y/n? Answer!”

Momo made his way down the hallway, the light from his flashlight shaking with each step he took. The air seemed colder with each meter, and darkness enveloped everything around him. “Y/n? Are you there? Please answer…” he muttered, gripping his cell phone tightly.

Suddenly, a strange sound echoed in the distance. Footsteps.

Momo stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing quickening. “Boy? Is that you? Answer!”

But what emerged from the shadows wasn’t Y/n.  They were three tall figures, oddly proportioned. They wore human clothing: buttoned-up shirts with collars, tucked neatly into their pants. The pockets of their shirts were filled with small items, such as pens and a notebook sticking out of one of them. They wore perfectly fitted belts and shiny shoes, as if they had just left an office meeting.

Their heads, however, were anything but human.

They looked like grotesque humanoid masks: expressionless faces with motionless eyes and thin mouths that curved unnaturally. Their movements were stiff, but their eyes followed her with chilling precision.

Momo took a step back, her body trembling. “Who… what are you guys?” she stammered, trying to maintain her composure.

One of them took a step forward, his head tilting slightly, as if he were studying her. Momo didn’t wait any longer.  She turned on her heel and began running down the tunnel, quickly dialing Y/n’s number on her cell phone.

“Y/n! Please answer! There are some weird guys here and—!”

She couldn’t finish. One of the men appeared out of nowhere, blocking her way. Momo screamed and backed away, but she collided with something hard. She quickly turned around and found another one of them, who had appeared behind her without making the slightest noise.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, throwing the flashlight at one of them in a desperate attempt to escape. The flashlight bounced harmlessly off his chest, and he showed no reaction.

Before she could do anything else, she felt an icy pressure on her arm. One of the men had grabbed her, his grip firm but inexplicably cold. “No, no, no! Let me go!”

The cell phone fell from her hands and hit the ground, illuminating for a moment the expressionless face of one of the men.  “Y/n! Help!” was the last thing she managed to scream before she was dragged into the darkness of the tunnel.

The phone was left there, illuminating an empty, cold hallway. In the distance, the echo of the men’s footsteps carrying her away could be heard, but soon, even that sound disappeared.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Momo opened her eyes in shock and confusion. The room was cold, with metallic walls illuminated by bluish lights, and in front of her were three disturbing-looking figures. With elongated heads, greyish skin and large, dark eyes, they looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie. One of them stepped forward and spoke in a monotonous, metallic voice:

"Greetings, human. We are Serpoians. We are called that because we come from the planet Serpo."

"Aliens?" Momo frowned in disbelief. Her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. However, the evidence was undeniable: she was facing something that surpassed any logical explanation.

"Do not be afraid," another of the Serpoians continued with inhuman calm. "We are a peaceful species."

Momo, far from calming down, gritted her teeth. Her eyes frantically scanned the room as she tugged at the restraints holding her wrists.  “Peaceful? Nice guys don’t kidnap girls! Where are my clothes?”

One of the aliens pointed to a nearby table where his clothes lay, in tatters. “Your belongings were handled with care. The damage was… accidental.”

“Accidental?! This isn’t cheap! You’re going to pay for this! And I demand that you return me to my home right now!” he shouted, his voice filling the room.

Despite his protests, the Serpoians seemed immune to his fury. “Our species is entirely male,” one explained in a mechanical tone, as if he were reciting a lesson. “For millennia, we have reproduced through cloning, but this has led to the loss of our emotions and genetic diversity. We seek to regain our biological capabilities… using your genetic code.”

“My what?” Momo looked at them with a mix of confusion and disgust. “You’re completely insane! I will not be a part of your Frankenstein experiments!”

Before she could say anything else, the sound of a sliding door interrupted the tension. A tall, sleek figure strode into the room. His futuristic suit gleamed in the light, form-fitting and full of metallic detailing. His face was hidden behind a sleek helmet that reflected his surroundings like a liquid mirror. His presence was imposing.

“Where is my payment?” he demanded in a firm, authoritative voice.

The Serpoians turned to her. One of them held up a black suitcase. “Here you go. However, it is less than agreed. You delivered late.”

The woman crossed her arms, her posture conveying palpable disdain. “My mentor accepts no excuses. Neither do I. This deal was for a larger sum.”

“The delay justifies the reduction,” one of the aliens replied coldly.

The woman clicked her tongue, visibly upset. Meanwhile, Momo, though still terrified, could not take her eyes off the newcomer.  There was something in her voice, in the way she moved… Something that felt strangely familiar.

Her eyes widened as she connected the pieces. “Y/n?” she muttered, almost breathless.

The woman stopped. Slowly, she turned her head towards Momo. Although the helmet still obscured her face, the slight shift in her posture made her discomfort clear.

The room fell into a tense silence following Y/n’s words. Momo stared at her in disbelief, her lips trembling as tears threatened to fall.

“What are you doing here, Y/n? What is this? Why are you with them?” she asked with a mix of rage and desperation.

Y/n let out an audible sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not personal, Momo. It’s just work. You… were the target. I was paid to bring them what they needed. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Momo raised her voice, her tears finally overflowing. “Is that what I am to you? A job? We were supposed to be friends! I was supposed to be able to trust you!”

Y/n’s helmet reflected the cold lights of the room, hiding any emotion that might have been on her face. But the stiffness of her shoulders gave her away. She tried to stand her ground, looking at Momo from a distance. “This isn’t about you or us, Momo. It’s about… surviving. You don’t understand how my world works. No one survives without making sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?! Is that what I am to you? One more sacrifice to keep you going?” Momo screamed, struggling against the restraints that kept her immobilized. “You were my friend, Y/n! I trusted you like no one else! I always thought you would understand me!”  But here you are, giving me away like I'm... like I'm a thing!”

Momo's words hit like a hammer. For a moment, Y/n stood still, unable to respond. Something in Momo's voice, in the broken sincerity of her words, touched her heart.

“Do you remember what you told me when you picked me up that night?” Momo continued between sobs. “You said that no matter what, you'd be there for me. That friends never betray each other. And look at you now... giving me away like I'm worthless.”

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Even the Serpoians fell silent, watching the confrontation.

Y/n lowered her head slightly, her voice sounding lower, almost unsure. “It's not that simple, Momo... I—”

“Don't give me excuses!” Momo interrupted her, her voice cracking. “Look at me! Tell me that all of this is worth it!  “Tell me you’re okay with what you’re doing!”

Y/n stood still for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity. Then, she took a step back, clenching her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, barely audible. Without another word, she turned to the Serpoians. “The deal is done. I’m leaving.”

“Y/n!” Momo screamed, her voice filled with desperation. “Please! Don’t leave me here! Please don’t do this to me!”

But Y/n didn’t stop. She headed for the door without looking back, her bright figure disappearing into the dimness of the hallway. Just before the door closed, Momo, her voice cracking, let out one last scream that echoed in the silence:

“I would never have done this to you, Y/n! Never!”

The echo of her words hung in the air, and for an instant, Y/n stood on the other side of the door.  Her shoulders shook slightly, but she didn’t turn around. With a quick movement, she disappeared, leaving Momo alone, her sobs filling the room as the Serpoians turned their attention back to her.

“Why…?” Momo whispered through her tears. “Why did you do this to me?”

The Serpoians had run out of patience. One of them approached with cold, calculated movements, a strange humming sound emanating from his device.

“Let us prepare to extract the necessary organs. Your resistance is irrelevant,” one declared in a metallic voice.

Momo struggled uselessly against the restraints, her face drenched in tears. “Get away from me! You cannot do this!”

The alien lifted the probe, slowly bringing it closer to Momo. “We will begin the procedure now.”

Suddenly, the sound of a ringtone broke through the air, Momo’s mobile phone began to vibrate on the nearby table. The Serpoians paused, staring at it curiously.

“External interruptions are not acceptable,” one of them said, reaching out a hand to take the device.

Before she could touch it, the phone’s screen lit up in a deep red.  A deep vibration filled the room, and suddenly, a figure emerged from the screen: Y/n, holding a strangely designed pistol.

“Did I interrupt something again?” she asked in an icy tone, pointing directly at the Serpoians.

Beside her, staggering, appeared the boy possessed by Turbo Granny. His body was bent at impossible angles, and his eyes shone with a mix of fear and rage.

“Ayase!” Ken shouted, struggling to stay on his feet as Turbo Granny seemed to control his movements.

The aliens took a step back, observing the scene with a mix of shock and wariness.

“How did you get in here again, Agent Jean Jacket?” one of the Serpoians demanded, raising his hands in a defensive stance.

Y/n let out a dry laugh, though her gaze remained fixed on them. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

Momo, still trapped in the chair, stared at Y/n in disbelief and rage. “Now you decide to show up?! After everything you did?!”

“This doesn’t change anything, Momo,” Y/n said without looking at her, her voice strained. “This is still not personal.”

“Please don’t give me that again!” Momo screamed, tears sliding down her cheeks.

For an instant, Y/n hesitated, but didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled the trigger on her gun, firing a beam that struck one of the Serpoians, knocking it to the ground.

Turbo Granny, controlling Ken, let out a terrifying shriek and launched herself at another alien, biting it ferociously on the torso.

“Momo, take cover!” Y/n screamed as the remaining aliens began to respond to the attack, their suits glowing as they prepared to fight back.

“I can’t! I’m tied up!” Momo screamed in desperation, pulling at the straps with all her might.

Ken screamed in desperation, his body still fighting against Turbo Granny’s possession. Tears fell from his eyes as the words filled the room, his voice cracked from years of repressed pain.

“No matter how many times I called you, you never came!” He exclaimed, fists clenched, body tense under Granny’s control.  “There I was bullied by children, ignored by aliens… children paid me to beat them up!”

Ken’s words were desperate, but the fury and pain seemed to give him the strength to keep fighting. “My life sucked! And no one cared if I was alive or dead… but (Y/n) and Miss Ayase were the only ones who stood up for me! So get your filthy hands off her!”

At that moment, a spark of control seemed to surge within him. His body trembled, but his mind struggled to take back the reins, preparing to attack. Anger fueled him, his will finally regaining some strength.

Momo, from her position, screamed in desperation, unable to do anything but watch as the fight raged. “Hidden-kun! Do it! We need you!”

But amidst the chaos, the aliens began to move, aware of the growing threat Ken posed. One of them, still reeling from Turbo Granny’s impact, gave an order. “Get those humans! They won’t let this end well!”

The tension rose, but the worst seemed yet to come. A Serpoian, with cold, calculated movements, approached Momo, holding her by the shoulders tightly. “If you don’t give us what we ask for, you’ll regret it,” he said in a monotone voice, while his companion watched Ken, who was still trying to break free from Granny’s influence.

“Gross!” one of the other aliens commented, watching the scene become more and more chaotic.

Momo looked at Ken, fighting against his own body, knowing that control was fragile. “Ken! Don’t give up! You can do it!” he shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

“Enough of all this!”  The voice, firm and full of power, boomed through the room.

It was Y/n. Her presence was imposing, the helmet reflecting the light from the screens, but behind it, her expression was determined.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Momo!” she said, as she raised her gun towards the Serpoians.

One of them tried to react, but a direct shot to his torso stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Hmm?”

Momo briefly looked away at Ken, but soon returned her focus to Turbo Granny, whose teeth were still piercing her calf.

“I’ll eat your cock!”

“What?” Y/n stepped back, horrified, but still trying to understand the situation.

“I… it’s not me! It’s Turbo Granny!”

“Are you really the only ones who can save me?” Momo thought, as her eyes focused on Ken. The situation was becoming more and more chaotic.

The alien and Momo watched the conflict in silence. Finally, the alien turned his gaze to Momo, noticing the chaos between the humans. “Now I will begin with the excitement.”

He extended his hand over Momo, who closed her eyes, feeling a growing pressure. Her face twisted in disgust as, for a moment, she thought she could no longer get out of this situation. It was then that, in her mind, an image from her childhood began to emerge: an important memory of her grandmother.

“Release your chi.”

“I don’t want to...”

Momo, as a little girl, found herself at the entrance of her grandmother’s house, long before she met you or Ken.

“The other kids always make fun of me for that. I look stupid.” Momo explained to the older woman, as her grandmother knelt in front of her with a calm smile.

“No, it’s not like that… When you release your chi, you will never get hurt or sick.  It will also help you keep evil away.” Grandma placed her hands gently on Momo’s shoulders, before taking her small hands firmly.

“Now, tense your abdominal muscles and imagine your chi rising from the top of your head.”

Momo, with effort, tried to follow the directions. Immediately, a painful memory flashed through her: the children laughing at her when she tried to do that pose.

“I hate it! I won’t do it again!” Momo screamed, shaking her head as her eyes widened in fury.

Her grandmother, still patient, held out her hand, asking for calm. “Momo! Wait!”

“I hate you, Grandma! You’re an imposter!”

That moment of anger made the memory flash through her mind in a distorted way. However, deep down, Momo knew she didn’t hate her grandmother. She only felt ashamed, something she was now beginning to understand.

Then, he began to imagine his grandmother’s words, remembering the technique she had taught him. As he visualized the flow of her chi, something inside him triggered, and, in that instant, the chair containing her broke under her energy.

The fight between Ken and Momo stopped at the same time, both of them staring in amazement as Momo began to levitate.

“What?! She never said she had psychic powers!” Ken exclaimed, his eyes wide as Momo floated.

With a slight bend in her legs, Momo raised her hands, looking at the two men around her in surprise. “I… I didn’t know I had them either.”

The alien who had tried to attack extended his hands towards Momo, but she, now fully focused, stared at him. “My psychokinesis is being repelled by a higher force. What’s going on? Maybe the human’s brain waves were overloaded, allowing her to access her chakra.”

Momo, fascinated by the piece of metal floating above her hand, turned her gaze towards the alien with a determined smile. “She’s not an impostor! My grandmother is a genuine medium! Thank you, Grandma!”

Meanwhile, the boy tried to bite Y/n and in the process, ripped off her helmet, revealing Y/n’s pastel blue skin and the dark blue glowing antennae emerging from her head.

She tried to defend herself, trying not to shoot him with her gun, but he scratched her skin, making fissures that healed automatically.

Momo stood up and, with her newly acquired powers, launched a powerful kick at the alien. However, he raised his arm and stopped her with force. “Now I have the power to face these monsters! And make them fly!” Momo shouted, full of determination.

With a last effort, she kicked the alien, sending him through the walls. The explosion that followed was deafening, and the lights in the room began to flicker violently.

Momo screamed as she felt her body collapse, as she watched the destruction falling around her. “We are inside a real UFO!” she exclaimed, surprised, looking around for Y/n and Ken, and finding them on the ground fighting, she was horrified. “(Y/n)! Occult-kun!”

Swiftly, Momo approached Granny Turbo. Suddenly, her body began to glow with a clear light, while her hair flowed wildly. At that moment, the curse that weighed on Ken disappeared.

Suddenly, the room darkened, turning red. Before them, Granny Turbo appeared, her gaze fixed and malicious. “Who the hell are you two?” she said, her voice cold and challenging.

Turbo Granny curled her fingers, causing Ken to pull away from Y/n, his body arching as a painful gurgle came from his lips. Momo watched, eyes wide, recoiling slightly as she saw how Ken was still under Granny’s control. “Granny is out of her body!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “But he is still under her curse!”

“This child belongs to me,” Turbo Granny said with a mocking smile. “As long as I have him, the curse will not be lifted.  I can't stay here for long, but if you want me to free him, go to the tunnel. If you want to fight me, come to me. Damn classless bitches!”

“Who are you calling a bitch, you filthy old woman?! Give him his penis back!” Momo shouted at the ghost that was walking away.

Y/n, seeing Momo so worried and determined, quickly approached her and, with unexpected strength, lifted her into her arms. Momo blushed at feeling so close to her, her cheeks turning red as she couldn't help but look down, avoiding Y/n's eyes, which were shining with determination.

“Don't worry! We're going to get out of here,” Y/n said firmly, beginning to quickly climb the walls of the UFO with the agility of an expert. Momo clung to her, the warmth of her body comforting her, but her mind was filled with chaos. In her chest, a strange feeling was born, something she had never felt before.

Ken, still disoriented from the curse and the explosion, was on the ground, slowly recovering. Y/n, still moving, lifted him up with one hand, placing him on her back as she continued to ascend.

“Come on, Ken! You have to get up, we have to go now!” Y/n shouted, and Ken, his eyes still somewhat clouded, nodded weakly.

The room was crumbling around them, and a dark energy filled the air. The walls were beginning to shake violently, and the lights flickered desperately. Momo, her face still flushed from the closeness to Y/n, looked down as they ascended, unable to stop her heart from beating faster than normal. What was this strange feeling that was invading her?

Suddenly, a loud boom shook the UFO, and a gigantic explosion went off behind them. The walls began to give way, and the ship seemed to be on the verge of total destruction. Y/n, not losing her cool, leapt forward, bringing Momo and Ken with her in her leap, escaping just before the UFO exploded into a ball of fire.

With a deafening bang, the UFO disintegrated behind them, and in the air, Y/n, Momo, and Ken flew through space, jumping out of the ship's reach, completely safe but on the verge of despair.

Momo hugged Y/n tightly, no longer caring about the blush, as the wind whipped at them, and Ken's body rested on Y/n's back.  The scene was chaotic, but it had all happened so fast, and the only thought running through Momo's mind was how she felt so strangely calm in Y/n's arms, as the ship crumbled behind them.

"Are we safe?" Ken asked, his voice weak, as he watched the distance between them and the exploding ship.

"Yes," Y/n answered, without hesitation. "We're safe... for now."

But as they floated in the air, Momo couldn't help but wonder how they could have survived all of that. And even more so, how her feelings towards Y/n seemed to have changed in a matter of seconds, and what it all meant to her.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Near Kamigoe Prefecture, a curious pastel-green being walked casually through the crowded streets of the city. It had the appearance of a puppy dog, though its size, its long antennae that glowed faintly in the daylight, and its tail that swung like a whip of jelly made it clear that it was no ordinary dog. In one hand it held a burrito wrapped in silver paper, and in the other, a large soda that made gurgling sounds with each step.

The little alien eagerly bit into the burrito, spilling some of the sauce on the ground. It paused for a moment, sucking its fingers before continuing to walk. Its attitude was that of someone who belonged there, though it didn’t bother to hide the strangeness of its appearance. People watched it in awe, but the alien seemed immune to the curious glances.

“Mom, look! A puppy!” exclaimed a little girl with braids, pointing at it with joy.

The being stopped dead in its tracks, its ears (or what seemed to be ears) perking up at the sound. It slowly turned its head towards the little girl, its eyes shining like a pair of tiny green suns. “Who are you calling a puppy, kid!?” it shrieked in a high-pitched voice with an accent that seemed to be from another planet… literally.

The little girl’s mother froze, tugging on her daughter’s hand as she tried to process what had just happened.

“Speak, Mom! The puppy is speaking!” the excited little girl shouted, tugging on her mother’s arm.

The alien, offended, snorted and raised his donkey towards the little girl, as if it were some sort of weapon. “Hey, on my planet, insulting someone by calling them a puppy is a declaration of war, you know? But I’m too busy today to respond to your taunts.”

The mother, now completely terrified, dragged her daughter away from the little being, muttering something about “moving to the country.”  The alien pup shook his head as he took a long sip of his soda, producing a clattering sound that drew even more stares.

“Humans…” he muttered tiredly, his antennae twitching in slight annoyance. “You can’t just walk around town without someone mistaking you for a pet.”

He continued on his way, dodging the crowd with surprising agility for someone with a burrito and a soda in his hands. Every so often, he would stop in front of a store to admire some product, though he quickly grew bored and kept moving.

A man in a suit saw him pass by and frowned. “Is that… a dog in a costume?”

“I’m not a dog!” the alien shouted without even turning around. “And stop looking at me like that or I’ll throw my burrito in your face!”

The threat seemed to have an effect, and the man walked away muttering something about “needing more coffee.”

The little creature finally reached the entrance to the town, where the lights were beginning to fade and the shops were turning into open fields. It stopped and looked out at the horizon, its antennae leaning forward as if it were sensing something. It took a last sip of its soda, letting out a loud burp that echoed through the air.

“Fine…” it said, wiping its mouth with the back of its hand. “Now I just need to find that damn ship before someone else calls me a puppy.”

He continued walking towards the end of the city, his half-eaten burrito still in his hand. Behind him lay a line of perplexed humans, and ahead of him a fate awaited him that, as always, would be anything but boring.

The little alien continued to walk with a sure step, enjoying his half-finished burrito, when suddenly, his antennae began to vibrate intensely. A slight buzzing sound went through his head, as if he had tuned into a distant frequency. His expression tensed, and his eyes, which used to shine with indifference, now narrowed with seriousness.

“What the…?” he muttered, looking around as if searching for the source of the phenomenon. His antennae continued to vibrate, and the buzzing sound grew higher. Then, looking up, he saw it.

In the distance, a thick column of black smoke rose from the old university hospital, followed by an explosion that lit up the sky as if it were a misplaced fireworks display.  The alien dropped his soda, which slowly rolled to a stop in a sewer.

“No way!” he screamed, bringing his hands to his antennae as if trying to stop the humming. He looked back at the hospital, frowning in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Y/n did it again?!”

The small being began to walk faster, then trotted, muttering under his breath. “I told you not to go soft on the merchandise! But no, you always have to play the heroine, dammit!”

He paused for a moment, as if he had remembered something, and shook his head in frustration. “And you sure left a mess behind, like always! By all the rings of Saturn, you’re really going to listen to me this time!”

With one last glance at the burning hospital, he let out an annoyed growl.  “I hope you at least saved something valuable, because if not…”

The little alien ran off on his short legs, leaving his donkey forgotten on the ground. His pastel green silhouette was lost in the shadows, while the smoke from the hospital covered the horizon, promising chaos and answers in the distance.

A/N ── Oh, hey, it's me again.

First off, let me tell you something: I'm in love with Dandadan. Seriously, I can't even explain how much I was hooked on this series from the moment I found out how it went. It was like a cosmic crush. Each chapter left me more hooked, more obsessed, and obviously I couldn't resist. I ended up buying the ENTIRE manga set that was available so far. I literally couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen with Momo after those last chapters that left me with my heart in my throat. This series is pure magic and chaos, and I can't get over it.

Now, let's talk about my baby, or Y/n. Let me tell you that her spacesuit is directly inspired by Smart Lady from a Japanese series (if you know which one, you're one of mine). I wanted something that screams alien but with style, and I feel like I nailed it... sort of. But, here comes the kicker: her personality is still not well defined. She's a mess, I admit. But that's the whole idea. Because she's an undercover alien, her personality changes depending on the environment she's in. It's like she's constantly adapting to fit in, but at the same time, that lack of consistency is part of her identity. Existential drama at its finest!

And here comes the tricky but interesting part: the character doesn't have a defined gender. Visually, she could pass for a woman, and she identifies as a woman because that's how she feels, but here's the plot twist: she has no defined genitals. Yes, you read that right. She's neither biologically male nor female. She's something beyond that, something that she may not even fully understand. For now, she treats herself as a woman because that's what feels most comfortable and natural to her earthly experience, but... does it really matter? I want to explore how that ambiguity affects her, how it influences the way she sees herself and her interactions with others. It's a key part of her story that I hope to develop little by little.

Oh, and regarding the technical chaos... I know this first part had its problems. It was published by itself, the dialogues were poorly arranged, it was very long, blah, blah, blah. But now, it's all well and good. I think.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

I can see Squid Game season 2 being used as a tool by political science professors to teach their course (for the record, I am a poli sci graduate). What I mean is:

1) The group that is voting for their survival are being held hostage by the group that is voting only for their self-interest (tyranny of the majority).

2) It’s not black-and-white as to why people make their choices on whether to leave or stay. Hyun-ju is an O, but she only voted to stay because of her medical expenses. Meanwhile, shitty old guy 100 is there because he wants the money for himself. As for the X’s, we still like Jung-bae but we understood why he was an O at one point. Myung-gi/MG Coin isn’t that sympathetic due to his past actions as a cryptobro, but you understand that he’s not completely awful since he genuinely cares for Jun-hee and their baby. (the political spectrum not being a perfect binary system)

3) Front Man genuinely believes the games and prize money are good since it’s a way for the poor and unfortunate to rise out of their situation (capitalism). He also believes it’s pointless to convince the contestants to vote for their survival as people are inherently selfish and will choose themselves before anyone else (Thomas Hobbes).

Gi-hun, the former political activist who was part of a workers protest, is appalled at how the poor and unfortunate are treated by the rich and powerful. He believes the games are corrupt and that the money he won from the previous game is cursed since it’s the result of the exploitation and murders of his fellow contestants (communism). He also believes that it’s worth trying to reach out to the O’s since he believes that people are inherently good and cooperative, which we also saw in S1 when the homeless man was saved by a group of strangers (Jean-Jacques Rousseau).

[youre-ackermine]

⋆⁺₊❅. Sweater Weather ⋆⁺₊❅.

❅ Prompt 27 "Ugly sweaters"

❅ Characters Levi x Gn!reader - Hange - Moblit - Miche

❅ Content Modern AU / SFW / Non-binary Hange

❅ Warning Swearwords / Slightly suggestive

❅ Wordcount 845 approx.

❅ Requested by @littlerequiem

“I’m not wearing this.”

Perched on the edge of the bed, Levi was scowling at the woolen monstrosity in his lap.

The hideous, garish knitted crap was not the only reason that got him so grouchy. As if the icy roads and blinding snow weren’t enough torture, the car heater breaking down halfway through the drive to the chalet had pissed him off to no end.

Yet, it was nothing compared to the sensory overload that had hit him like a slap in the face as soon as you had finally crossed the threshold together, snow melting off your boots and chilled to the bone.

Hange had welcomed you with a beaming smile, their reindeer antlers headband bobbing ridiculously as they had pulled Levi in a crushing hug that had knocked the wind out of him.

They had plucked your suitcase off your hands and shown you around the house with unconcealed pride, raising their voice to cover the Christmas songs blasting away in the living-room and blabber about how long it had taken them and Moblit to decorate, the poor man failing to tone down their festive enthusiasm, thus ending in an eyesore of multicoloured blinking lights, glittering tinsels and kitschy ornaments.

Visibly weary after hours of dealing with his friend’s antics, said man was currently slumped in the couch, nursing a glass of amber liquid as he stared into space, barely waving as you greeted him on your way to the stairs.

“We need help for the food and other stuff down there, so don’t fool around too long!” they had said -with what they intended as an impish wink but ended up blinking instead- before closing the door of your bedroom upstairs.

You turned from the wardrobe where you were hanging your coats, raising an eyebrow at his statement.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice, given you agreed to come,” you smirked.

“And I already regret it,” he groaned, fingers clutching at the fabric.

“Oh, c’mon Vi!” you urged him on, plopping down on the bed and prodding him in the ribs. “It’s festive!”

He grabbed your hand to push it back.

“What’s festive about my best friend roping me into this kind of crap whenever they get the chance?” he spat, his brow furrowing deeper with irritation.

“Don’t be so dramatic!” You scooted closer to him, your hand now resting on his thigh.

Your voice softened.

“You knew the sweater contest was the highlight of Hange’s party, right?”

He cursed under his breath. “Course I knew, but…”

His face puckered into an adorable pout.

“But what?” You whispered, gently drawing circles over his thigh with your thumb. “Why did you agree if it miffes you so much?”

“Tch, as if I could say no,” he sighed. ”Ever.”

“What?” You chuckled. “Why?”

He seemed reluctant but replied nonetheless.

“Hange’s my friend, my best friend, and you..” he trailed off.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He pointed a finger close to your face. “You paired up with them and pulled me down into your shitty trap!”

As much as you wanted to act offended, you laughed and moved closer to him instead.

He didn’t resist when your hand slid up his toned chest to push him down slowly.

“You mean you can’t resist me?” you teased in a low voice, crawling over him as soon as he lay on the comfortable mattress.

A faint blush crept up his cheeks and he averted his gaze, muttering something unintelligible.

“So… you’ll wear it?” you whispered with your sultriest tone, your hot breath tickling his ear.

“Nn-noo,” he moaned, trying his best to resist the soft caress of your thumb on his lower lip.

“Please, Levi,” you murmured, “do it for me!”

“Wh-why would I?” He was panting now.

“Because you love me,” you breathed seductively before kissing that sensitive spot under his ear.

He gasped.

“Ff-fuck! O-okay, I’ll wear whatever you want but…” his hands rested on your waist and his lips sought yours, “but just kiss me already!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the endearing desperation in his tone and leaned in to kiss him.

As your lips met his in a soft touch, the door burst open, allowing both Hange’s off-key caroling -which had been conveniently muffled so far- and a blond hairy mug to invade your bubble and stop you dead.

“The hell you doing, sasquatch?” Levi snapped. “Never learned to knock?”

You rolled over the bed and stood up, smoothing down your shirt.

“Glad to see you too, midget,” he smirked. “Everybody’s here by now, so drag your pretty ass downstairs and make yourself useful for once!”

“Shit!” Levi hissed between his teeth.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Five minutes later, you dragged Levi downstairs, his ugly sweater matching yours, his face sourer than you had ever seen.

Bursts of laughter broke through the loud music from the living-room.

"This is hell," he muttered, pinching his nose.

Before stepping in, you squeezed his hand in yours and placed a kiss on his temple.

“C’mon, Grinch,” you spurred him on. “We’ve got a party to crash.”

❅ A/N Not beta or proof read / English is not my usual language

❅ All graphics by me

❅ ❤︎ REBLOGS APPRECIATED ❤︎ ❅

Holiday drabbles Masterlist

[starsfic]

Random facts about the Contestant (and some RabbitRoyale:

Is actually in mid-twenties, is guessed to be in late thirties all the time- doesn't mind

Got disowned from big close-knit family when they came out as non-binary

Family was also supporting their college education, so they had to leave in the middle of their communications major

Knows how to bartend

The tape player they had was something they got for Christmas and something they stole from their family's house out of spite

They loved the Frankie cartoon as a kid, hated the cereal.

Used to take ballet and gymnastics and keeps up with it

Adrenaline junkie, love horror movies, and used to watch the streams commenting on how they'd survive

This wasn't helped by the fact that they lived on a shadier part of town

They have gotten into fistfights and is a fairly decent brawler

As Morgan they did have a beginning to be decent streaming career, but as the Contestant, it has exploded

Frankie matches their freak, in a way that subjecting anyone else to them would be a war crime

Is very "Eh." on Henry Hotline while he doesn't like them. He does appreciate them for bringing the ratings up, but their choice in relationship...

Deputy Duck doesn't like them but will work with them

They like to grab Frankie's face and he likes to lightly squeeze their neck. He's promised them that he'll keep their heart when they die.

During shows after they got their knives, they will occasionally bow or curtsy to the camera. They're doing it to Frankie

Their ribs are fucked up from constant falls. They've never broken a limb but their ribs...

They bribed Swansea and Mitchell, the mechanics of the palace, to teach them how fix Frankie just in case. They have held Frankie's core.

Very calm and collected. It takes a lot to rattle them. If you see them grinning like a feral animal, run.

[lovelanguage-if]

DEMO | FAQ | PATREON | STATUS: TENTATIVE HIATUS

Get ready for the most captivating and unconventional reality dating experience ever witnessed!

Set out on a thrilling six-week journey that defies conventional beauty standards and dives deep into the realm of emotional connections. Prepare to be swept away to a secluded waterfront estate, where masked contestants will embark on a quest for love like no other.

In this extraordinary social experiment, aesthetic attractions take a back seat as the focus shifts towards forging genuine, soulful bonds. Each contestant will don a unique mask, concealing their physical identities, allowing them to explore the depths of emotional connections with their fellow love-seekers. Stripped of preconceptions based on appearance, they can truly delve into the essence of each person's character, values, and compatibility.

But here's the twist: as the weeks progress and relationships blossom, the contestants will have the opportunity to remove their masks and reveal their true identities. However, this choice comes at a cost. A portion of the $60,000 secondary prize pool will be deducted with each mask unveiling. This intriguing dilemma adds an exciting layer of tension, as the contestants must decide if the potential reward of revealing themselves is worth the sacrifice of the prize money.

The public will have the power to determine an array of benefits for their fan favorites as well as the winning couple who will claim the coveted primary prize of $500,000. Viewers will witness the rollercoaster of emotions, heartaches, and unexpected connections as the contestants navigate their way through challenges, group activities, and intimate one-on-one dates. Alliances will form, trust will be tested, and hearts will be on the line as they strive for a shot at love and the chance to win the grand prize.

Who will find true love and claim the public's admiration? Who will choose to unveil their mask and reveal their true selves? And ultimately, who will emerge as the last mask standing, securing the secondary prize?

Join Love Language: Masked and prepare for a journey like no other!

Love Language: Masked is 18+. It contains disturbing elements such as mature language, drug/alcohol use, sexual themes, mental health issues(suicidal ideations, depression, anxiety, PTSD.), death, sexual assault, abuse, and more TBA. 

This list will be updated as the plot progresses. Read at your discretion.

Please note that not all features will be immediately available. There are grand plans to continuously enhance the game, new and exciting elements will be added as the development progresses.

❥  Step into the world of romance, intrigue, and intense competition. It all begins with you—create a character that reflects your true self. Choose your name, gender, pronouns, and even customize your appearance, right down to the mask you'll wear.

❥  Romance is in the air, and you have the freedom to pursue any of the fifteen contestants. Whether your heart beats for a male, female, or non-binary partner, love knows no boundaries. But that's not all—there are exciting plans for polyamorous routes, ensuring you can explore all the depths of your desires.

❥  Unleash your personality and witness the thrilling reactions of the contestants. How you navigate the game's twists and turns will shape your journey. Will you be the messy rebel stirring up trouble, the kind-hearted hero everyone adores, or perhaps the sly strategist playing the game behind the scenes? Every choice matters, as not only do your relationships within the house hang in the balance, but also your popularity with the public. Walk the fine line between spiciness and blandness, because in this game, losing the prize or even getting eliminated is a real possibility.

❥  Prepare for an enthralling experience where the fate of your couple—and your own destiny—is waiting to be discovered. Multiple endings await you, each with its own unique path and surprises. Will love conquer all, or will unexpected twists lead you down a different road?

Stay tuned for updates on new features!

❥ Meet the Cast! ❥

[monster-match-if]

Is the mc human? What will we be able to customize?

MC is human, but I'm thinking of maybe letting you choose if your MC wants to transform into a vampire or werewolf towards the end. And maybe the option to discover they can do magic (witch/warlock/mage type). This will happen maybe in the last week of the show. You'll be able to customize MC's appearance (skin, hair and eye color as well as height and body type... tattoos, piercings, freckles, glasses/ contact lenses.) I'm not entirely sure if I want to add a beauty option (like if MC sees themselves more/less attractive than the other contestants), but they will always be alluring to the ROs, obviously, lol. I'll get back to this in Chapter/Day 2.

You will have to choose between male and female MC. The game won't specify if MC transitioned or not, but the respective body parts will be used in the spicy scenes and will probably be reflected in the clothing options as well, though there will always be at lest 3 options varying from prude to skimpy - and I'm always open to suggestions for these. I suppose I could always add at least one more gender non confirmative option🤔 Neither MC nor the others will be grouped into Women vs Men activities/challenges, it will always be by couples or decided by the public (aka me😂). I think the only route where this will be slightly relevant is Ragnar's (werewolf) since there will be talk about eventually staring a family, so all F MCs that can't or don't want kids (biological, surrogate or adopted) will be locked out of the romance from this one route only.

I also kinda wanna add that I will not be changing this (MC binary sex or Ragnar's sexuality). This is a side-side-side project of mine and I'm already codding a bunch of stuff that were not in the original plan I had for this story. If I had more time, I would. I'm also thinking of making the game downloadable once finished and let anyone add/change upon it whatever options they want. If anyone will want to code/write different customizations or routes or just check the code or have it as a template for their own stories, I'm fine with it.

I haven't gotten to the coding yet, but I'm thinking of adding pronouns as well. The only issue is I HATE 'they' from a purely codding standpoint cause then I have to code all the freaking verbs I use to plural for this one set of pronouns that I'm not even sure if anyone uses in game... I'm thinking of letting everyone customize their pronouns, as well as change them whenever from the Profile tab, with the added note that all verbs will just be in singular form when referring to MC. Again, I'm sorry, it just takes time and patience, things I'm lacking more and more.

Personality wise, there will be 3 options: The Sweetheart - timid and, well, sweet The Charmer - friendly, average flirt, cracking jokes here and there The Flirt - very bold, very flirty

These will never lock per se, but the highest stat will always trigger some flavor text. But they are a bit separate from the actual romance choices (MC can be a sweetheart and still initiate things, but it will probably be mentioned they are not so bold otherwise, or a complete flirt and still get shy in some instances). There will also be a few choices where MC can follow their emotions/ heart, or logic/ brain.

I think I got everything and then some 😂

[nekropsii]

Have you ever thought of starting, or contributing, to a Homestuck wiki page? Pure curiosity. /genuine.

Fuck no. I have worked on a Fandom Wiki before, and they’re actually physically painful if you have any level of common sense. Do you know how hard it was to get other editors of it to accept and acknowledge a character being Non-Binary. Do you know how aggravating it was knowing how difficult it was when the Non-Binary character in question literally used They/Them and literally had a Non-Binary flag and specified they were using They/Them Pronouns specifically as a gender-affirming choice.

Even worse was that I was actually a writer on the piece of media in question, so I knew for a damn fact what was going on, and people still contested most of everything I tried to do because Fandom People get Really Fucking Touchy when canon doesn’t align with their specifically crafted headcanons or ships. In fact, contesting me was just about the ONLY thing other people did with that particular wiki. I was SOL if I wanted anyone else to make any meaningful contributions alongside me. Either they were fighting me for no reason, or they were doing nothing.

Fandom Wikis are where brain cells go to die. I’m not willing to fight for truth in a room full of stupid people who are willing to die on the hill of Trying To Make Fanfiction Real and Being Wrong.

They never did accept that character being Non-Binary, by the way. Not while I was still there, at least.

[real-total-drama-takes]

“Three queens stand before me,” Ru-Chef began, sizing the dolls up and down.

“Only two of you will move on to the finals, and one of you will bid your adieu and go out in a a burst of glory, in our giant Cum Cannon of Slay-me.”

Brown Sugar and S-kai eyed each other up and down. Brown Sugar, having acquired a Republican-woman tan the shade of burnt caramel, was dead set on getting that Olympic wannabe eliminated. In turn, S-kai, the non-binary short king who merged her deadname Sky with the name every non-binary short king who watched LEGO Ninjago as a kid chooses, also wanted that Alberta asshat eliminated. Shawn-tay, on the other hand, was just focused on not getting his wig snatched by the millions of wig-snatching zombies in the wild of Pahkitew Island.

“So who stays? And who goes?” Ru-Chef was turning up the heat. She got right up in the final three contestants’ faces.

“Brown Sugar, you were terrific in the Dolly Parton drag/moose rodeo double-challenge today, but you completely tripped on your stilettos during the 100m gogo-boots race! What happened, queen?”

S-kai smirked. Yes, Mama Ru! Read that flop to filth with the rest of her hog-tying hick cousins! she thought.

“And S-kai, my darling…”

The non-binary Olympic short king gulped.

“Musical legend Madonna originated the vogue walk. We wanted to see that passion in you during the reward challenge today. Instead, much like said legend herself in present day, I almost went into a mid-life crisis from that godawful posing! This is Ru-Chef’s Drag Race: Pahkitew Island, not a soup kitchen! Let’s straighten that neck up, and act like we’re in a photoshoot, m’kay?”

S-kai reddened, and Brown Sugar hooped and hollered at Ru-Chef’s insult.

Further back, Sis McSlay, co-host of the show, was fine-tuning the Cannon of Slay-me for maximum propulsion. Xe took a moment to rub the sweat off xis forehead from doing repairs to laugh at xis lover’s read. Ru-Chef didn’t just read people–she brought the whole damn LIBRARY.

Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Ru-Chef’s pink Louboutin heels carried the queen over to Shawn-tay, who hadn’t bathed all season.

“Shawn-tay,” said Ru-Chef nasally, as a clothespin pinched her nose from the zombie conspiracy theorist queen’s stench. “You didn’t do terribly in today’s challenges. Nor did you do particularly well. Just…middling. Mediocre. Milquetoast, if we want to keep this trend of “m” words meaning “bland” that perfectly describe you.”

S-kai and Brown Sugar’s eyes widened. Shawn-tay gulped.

“In fact, my dear,” Ru-Chef continued, “If I had a glass of lukewarm Pepsi, I’d offer it to you, because much like a glass of lukewarm Pepsi, you are both unimpressive and nobody’s first choice.”

Shawn-tay’s jaw fell to the floor of the makeshift stage set up on the island. She was thoroughly gagged.

____________________________________________

After Ru-Chef had gotten those bitches together, it was time for the elimination nomination.

“S-kai,” Ru-Chef said, her pink dress shimmering in the summer sun. “You are a phoenix. Bright and awe-inspiring when in action, but pathetic and ashy otherwise. You are an Olympian in training, and you haven’t won a single challenge on your own all season! You’ve got so much potential, crazy abs, a killer bod, insane upper-body strength, sexy flexibility, and a calm head that would soothe any acid-attack victim’s chemical burns! But is athleticism and levelheadedness all that can carry you to the crown?”

S-kai braced xishelf.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but you are up for elimination.”

S-kai’s heart sank. Xer blue chiffon ball gown seemed to shrink and pucker with every condemnation from Ru-Chef, and with this final blow, with this heart-halting threat of elimination looming over her, it finally gave away. S-kai sank to xer knees and wept.

Unfazed, Ru-Chef turned to the next contestant.

“Brown Sugar. Your performance in today’s challenge was…shall we say…Sugar Honey Iced Tea.”

Brown Sugar’s wig was snatched. Her bedazzled blue-denim bell bottom jeans swished pathetically in the wind.

“Let’s just say, if I wanted a performance that tried way too hard to be modern but ended up being a downright offensive yet horny hick fest, I would’ve just created an AI deep fake of an uncomfortably sweaty sex tape between Lil Nas X and Billy Rae Cyrus to the tune of “Old Town Road.”

S-kai stifled a giggle. Brown Sugar’s eyes went as wide as the sticks of fried butter she ate for lunch.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but you are up for elimination.”

Brown Sugar started boohooing instantly, her blonde locks billowing in the breeze.

“And Shawn-tay….Con-drag-ulations, you are the winner of this challenge! You stink like Selena Gomez’s acting, Jennifer Lopez’s singing, and Sofia Vergara’s English accent, but you’ve got that it factor, despite an initially lackluster performance. You’ve got a ticket to the finale, my darling. Sashay to backstage, and spectate these two queens battling it out if you dare.”

Fixing her ratty orange beanie, Shawn-tay ran to the back of the stage, endlessly relieved that she wasn’t being eliminated that round and that no zombies had snatched her wig to get her brains!

____________________________________________

“Queens,” Ru-Chef said, after the commercial break. “It is time…to lip-sync…FOR. YOUR. LIFE.”

S-kai and Brown Sugar hated each other all season. Brown Sugar’s loud hillbilly antics and cruel, manipulative tactics like bullying their teammate Sn-hoe White out of the competition and breaking up S-kai and Dirty Dave’s showmance rubbed S-kai the wrong way. Similarly, Brown Sugar was repulsed by S-kai’s good sportsmanship, sense of fairness, and potential alliance with Dirty Dave. They couldn’t be more different. But the two shared one thing in common at that moment, judging from their shaking knees, as jiggly as Season 1 Drag Race winner Ho-wen’s belly: they were scared shitless.

“Good luck, and don’t fuck it up.”

Having uttered this warning, Ru-Chef pressed Play on the hot-pink Disney Princess Karaoke Machine. On either side of him, co-judge Sis McSlay and celebrity judge, current Prime Minister of Canada, Cunt-ney, were staring at the queens coolly.

A remix of Disney Princess “I Want” songs began playing, starting with Snow White’s “I’m Wishing” melody that she sang into the wishing well, still in her peasant clothes. But unlike a peasant, S-kai and Brown Sugar were in full force, grooving around the stage, lip-syncing as best as they could to this childhood medley.

The remix switched over to Cinderella’s “A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes”. Channeling her inner Gus, Brown Sugar tumbled and scurried around the stage, posing perfectly under the spotlight. Ru-Chef looked impressed.

Quickly, the lyrics morphed into Sleeping Beauty’s “Once Upon A Dream”. Channeling xer inner Aurora, S-kai fluttered around the stage, dancing with a deer and gaggle of birds that had wandered in from the forest. Prime Minister Cunt-ney seemed amazed.

It was when the music shifted gears into Ariel’s “Part of Your World” that a lightbulb went off in S-kai’s pixie-cut-adorned head.

The medley is going chronologically, by order of the Disney Princess movies! she deduced.

Hmm, right now is 1989’s The Little Mermaid. What’s next…was it Beauty and the Beast? No, Aladdin!

Distracted by her mental calculations, S-kai didn’t see that she was twirling right next to the front of the stage. Brown Sugar slyly stuck her foot out in front of her competitor. S-kai tripped.

Tipping over the edge of the stage from the momentum of her twirling, the queen gasped. At that moment, the Disney Princess animals from the forest dashed to her rescue. A gaggle of bluebirds grabbed onto her ballgown. A nest of robins held onto her velvet cape. Using their paws and hooves, a deer and a rabbit steadied S-kai’s high heels, which were teeter-tottering from the impact.

Once again, fully upright on stage, S-kai flashed her brightest smile and continued twirling. Sis McSlay narrowed his eyes, but looked satisfied by her recovery.

Shooting a glare at Brown Sugar, S-kai focused on what lyrics would be next. Correctly predicting that Ariel’s signature song would shift into Jasmine’s “A Whole New World,” S-kai used xer cape as an imaginary magic carpet, and, combined with xer acrobatic skills, pretending to glide around the stage in it. All three judges exchanged looks of wonder.

Fuming, Brown Sugar planned to crush that gymnast out of the competition once and for all. In the meantime, though, she’d bide her time and pretend-lasso S-kai out of the way, as the medley changed into Belle’s reprise.

Ironic that Brown Sugar, who thought that books were just government conspiracies to “kill trees and stuff them between boring covers,” would dominate in this portion of the lip-sync, but that’s exactly what happened. Dizzy from all her spinning and flipping, S-kai moved around the stage in a daze. Taking the opportunity to hip-check xer out of the way, Brown Sugar shoulder-shimmied her way into the judges’ hearts.

The sun beat overhead as fiercely as the two lip-syncing queens’ competitive spirit. Neither was backing down, and Shawn-tay watched from backstage in amazement. Maybe life wasn’t all about zombie apocalyptic survival, she thought, inspired by their desire to snatch the crown.

There wasn’t much choreography during S-kai and Brown Sugar’s lip-syncing renditions of Mulan’s “Reflection”, but the emotion in their faces, no doubt spurred on by their hunger to stay in the competition, brought Prime Minister Cunt-ney to hysterics. Even though queen never cry, she couldn’t help but dab at her watery eyes with her mindful and demure platinum-plated handkerchief. Ru-Chef and Sis McSlay held each other for comfort as they sobbed.

Princess Tiana’s “Down in New Orleans” was the segment which made S-kai and Brown Sugar vie for the spotlight the most. Hips swayed, toe-taps cascaded, fingers wagged, and legs sashayed through this jazzy tune. Brown Sugar “accidentally” bumped S-kai into a stage prop, which came crashing down on the queen. With xer out of the way, Brown Sugar pirouetted to her heart’s content, letting out years of Little Miss Hillbilly pageant experience. The judges oohed and aahed.

Crawling out of the rubble from the stage-prop sabotage, S-kai’s ears steamed. Xe wanted to run out there and drop-kick Brown Sugar off the stage and onto the judge’s table to expose that fraud who wore…Sh…Shake….

S-kai shuddered. Even xe couldn’t speak that godawful piece of cheap hair technology into existence. Much like Lord Voldemort, Shake-N-Go wigs were an evil best left unspoken, lest it secretly grow power whenever it was uttered. All of Canada knew that only the trashiest queens wore them, and a secret like this that S-kai had caught wind to would destroy Brown Sugar’s drag career, and on national television at that. But….

No. S-kai wasn’t that low. As angry as xe was, xe wouldn’t stoop to Brown Sugar’s level just to win a lip-sync. Instead, S-kai would win with xer killer physique and discipline. “Fly like a butterfly, sting like a queen”, her intense drag trainer Mr. Mi-yas-gi had taught her. That, and “Wax on, wax off” (when it came to styling eyebrows).

Picking xerself up and dusting xerself off, S-kai was just in time as the remix moved into Rapunzel’s “When Will My Life Begin”. Despite xer obligatory short haircut like all non-binary short kings with some variation of the name Kai, S-kai wasn’t deterred from using xer flowing ballgown to cosplay as Rapunzel’s magical locks. Swirling them around and combining hairography with classical ballet, S-kai zig-zagged around the stage, trapping Brown Sugar in a whirlwind of chiffon and pixie-cut dandruff. The judges were surprised at S-kai’s recovery, having been almost ready to disqualify xer for xer absence for most of the previous lip-sync segment.

S-kai’s dancing whirlwind spun faster and faster, as Brown Sugar, feebly shaking her blonde curls, became disoriented. Making a mad dash out of her opponent’s ballet-based natural disaster, Brown Sugar’s head was clocked by a stray wind from S-kai’s choreography of fury. Flying off the stage, Brown Sugar smashed into the judges’ table and sent an intern running away in fear.

Having knocked her rival off stage, S-kai took center stage, the spotlight on xer, as the final song of the remix, Moana’s “How Far I’ll Go”, began playing. Despite Moana’s Polynesian roots, as a First Nations (indigenous Canadian) queen, S-kai resonated with Moana’s indigenous heritage.

By the time S-kai’s lips, perfectly aligned with Moana’s voice, mouthed the final “how far I’ll go,” all three judges were brought to tears. Even Brown Sugar, as much as she hated S-kai, had to admit that xe sounded pretty good. Shawn-tay sobbed tears of awe.

____________________________________________

The stage lights went dim. Just the natural sunlight, the summer breeze, the chirping birds nearby, and the applauding judges were the only sounds left.

Having defeatedly risen back onto the stage, Brown Sugar faced her judgment. She stared daggers at S-kai, who stared daggers right back. The two were having a mental diva-off, a stare down of the gods, and only one would walk away. That is, until–

“We’ve made our decision,” Ru-Chef called.

“S-kai,” Prime Minister Cunt-ney began.

A pit of nervousness rose in the Olympic queen’s stomach.

“Shantay, you stay,” Ru-Chef proudly finished.

Xer mouth agape, S-kai took in Ru-Chef’s words. Xe was in the finale. Xe was IN the finale.

Beaming, she ran over to hug Shawn-tay before halting inches away. Shawn-tay did still smell like raccoon ass and her outfit did still look like she had gotten mauled by attack dogs and fire hoses at a civil rights protest (seriously, what was Mama Ru thinking giving her invincibility??), but….who the hell cared! The two queens embraced, congratulating each other. Discreetly, S-kai sprayed some Chanel No. 5 perfume on Shawn-tay as they hugged.

“Brown Sugar. Your performance in this lip sync matches your tan exactly: skanky and reeking of bad judgment. If the sabotage wasn’t enough, the hair was my last goddamn straw, honey…a Shake-N-Go wig? How dare you.”

Having had her secret exposed for the entire viewing audience of Ontario, British Columbia, Nova Scotia, and Quebec, Brown Sugar stood frozen in her tracks, a white-hot fury and mortification petrifying her. She could kiss her brand deals with Juggy Chunks and Darwin’s Food Safari goodbye.

“Brown Sugar,” Ru-Chef looked upon her like gum on the bottom of her stiletto. “Sashay away.”

____________________________________________

Not even giving her enough time for a farewell, Ru-Chef’s bulging biceps hoisted Brown Sugar up and tossed her from the stage into the Cannon of Slay-me across the forest. Promptly pressing a shiny red button, Sis McSlay watched as Brown Sugar screetched, “I’M COMING, WIZARD!” as she blasted away into the sky. For the record, by “wizard,” she was not referring to Leonard, a black queen LARPing as a sexy mage who was eliminated 2nd in the competition, but instead to her illicit American lover, a “Grand Wizard” in an organization whose three initials are all comprised of the same letter…

“Taking the trash out, one silly billy (hillbilly that is!) at a time!” Prime Minister Cunt-ney dusted her hands off, a self-satisfied smirk on her ever-so-cunty face.

“We are down to TWO finalists,” Ru-Chef announced.

“Who will be the queen that snatches the crown on Ru-Chef’s Drag Race: Pahkitew Island? Will it be S-kai, non-binary short king (pronouns xe/she/xer/her) and Olympian-in-training, or Shawn-tay, smelly but spirited QAnon conspiracy theorist Shawn-tay (pronouns she/her)–?”

"–It’s ‘zombie conspiracy theorist, not QAnon! And zombies are totally real–“

“–Find out next week on the season finale of Total…Mama💅…Island!”

[quajzen]

Resolution "Mechanics"

Some D&D resolution "mechanics" that reflect what you are resolving. No dice! All player skill, taken to extreme. Not written with a specific edition/game in mind.

Inspired by the stopwatch post at Dreaming Dragonslayer.

1. Dexterity/reaction check: play Red Hands 3 rounds, if the player escapes a slap 2 times you succeed.

2. Strength check: Arm wrestle your GM. Player win means check succeeds.

3. Charisma/Persuasion check: straight face contest. Persuading party (player or GM) must make their character's request in the most funny way possible. Check successful if straight face is broken. What can be done as part of the persuasion is up to your table.

4. Constitution check: GM sets a number of shots of a liquor of their choice. Finishing all the shots with a straight face/no complaints means a successful check. Gets more fun as the session goes on!

5. Wisdom/perception check: staring contest with GM. GM blinks first means check successful.

6. Intelligence check: Best of 3 rounds of rock paper scissors against the GM. You gotta out think your opponent!

7. Disarm traps/Pick locks check: solve a physical puzzle of some sort: blacksmith puzzle/Rubik's cube type of thing. This could be capped in duration for binary success/failure, timed to see how long in-game it takes, or be made a group puzzle.

8. Medicine check/bind wounds: set a fast metronome and play, using a blunt object, that game where you tap in between the player's outstretched fingers really fast (forget what it's called, see gif below but DON'T USE A KNIFE). Similar to 7, can be made binary resolution or a degree of success. You could increase the metronome 10 bpm every 30 seconds and see how many 30 second intervals are completed without a mistake, then have a rule on how to convert that to healing.

Overall, I think these are fun. They really make player skill not just a knowledge thing, but literally physical skills. It also allows real life downtime actions: become a speed cuber to waltz through a trap dungeon. Will almost certainly need a mixup after a while, whether increasing difficulty or providing different mechanics for diegetically different challenges (different lock mechanisms may require different size Rubik's cubes).

Any others?

[inventors-fair]

The Dividing Line

You've got some choices to make. In fact, you've got exactly two choices to make. And both of them will win you the game! But how? Let's think about 1v1 Magic for a second. Everyone's been in a situation when you're behind a bit and you really need to catch up. And sometimes you're in a situation where you're definitely ahead, but you've got a moment or two before you can really feel like you're winning. What do you do there? Where's the fork in the road?

I guess we'll see about that.

Design a modal card with exactly two binary* modes—one of them benefits you, and the other negatively affects an opponent.

* Binary meaning NO ESCALATE OR ENTWINE (or related wording/mechanics that would allow you to choose both). It's one or the other.

In terms of what "benefits you" and what "negatively affects an opponent," I want you to use your best judgement.

Something that affects each player? Not really good for this contest. Fascination is an example of a card that would be beneficial to only you in specific situations, but it's not what this contest is looking for.

Some cards have modes where it doesn't specify that you're targeting an opponent or their board state, but it's implied. Applied Biomancy is framed in such a way that you're expected to have a benefit/detriment binary, even though you could in theory unsummon one of your own creatures to save it. I'll give a little grace there.

I'll be the most impressed by a) unique effects that reflect the flavor of the effects, and b) mechanical technicalities that show an understanding of formats and/or planes.

Don't forget: you're designing a whole package here. You want your card to read, look, and feel as wholly polished as possible. Take your time messing with settings and exacting every aspect as much as they need.

Rain or shine. Life or death. Chocolate or vanilla. Profit or loss. Make your choices...or your choices will make you.

Have fun! @abelzumi

>> Desktop Submissions >> Mobile Submissions/Asks >> IF Discord Server

[silvysartfulness]

I am feeling increasingly salty about non-Europeans (Americans in particular) loudly, confidently posting anti-Eurovision rants on my dash lately.

Here's the thing. Eurovision is messy and problematic. Of course it is, it's always been messy and problematic! It's what Europe mostly does instead of ceaseless wars these days. It's not allowed to be too on-the-nose political (to avoid outright diplomatic incidents and more of said wars) but at the heart of it it is very much politics.

Eurovision isn't really about the "shitty music that no one will miss anyway", not really. It's not even an event, like the Superbowl or Met Gala or whatever your frame of reference is. It's an arena. A dialogue, the musical performances and resulting votes a call-and-response exercise between the actual people of the nations of an entire continent.

It is, in a very literal sense, the European Overton window in action.

The EBU administration is hypocritical as fuck, and I certainly don't agree with or excuse the shitty choices they occasionally make. That's not what this is about.

But some of you gleefully judgmental people shit-talking the concept of Eurovision itself and "hoping it'll crash and burn" show very blatantly you have no idea what it actually is. Which is fair! Because the combination of politics, cutthroat rivalry, unity and bloodthirsty festivity, the expression of (often deeply political) opinions through a creative medium like music, grudgingly uniting several dozens of nations that have spent a major part of the last thousand years at war in varying constellations... is something highly unique.

So sure, you may not get it. You don't have to get it. You don't have to like it. You certainly don't have to watch it. You can think it's as shitty or shallow or problematic as you like (it is absolutely all those things). But you're honestly entitled as fuck if you butt in with loud opinions about its very existence if you don't even understand what it's for, or grasp the very real impact that that call-and-response has on the lives and political direction of all the people actually living here.

This last weekend, a song about the struggles and euphoria of breaking free from the gender binary and getting to exist as yourself, as you are - performed by a proud and out non-binary artist - won the Eurovision Song Contest by a landslide. The Overton window, the people of Europe came together and loudly and unanimously said "trans rights!"

And if you can't grasp the insane impact of that because you're so focused on the hypocrisy of the group of people doing the administration, I really don't know what to tell you.

Maybe you should just sit down and accept that this once, something isn't for you.

[video-game-kids-tournament]

MEET YOUR CONTESTANTS!

Undertale spoilers under the cut!

Name: Frisk.

Age: “a kid. unspecified. like 8 maybe or something”

Gender + Pronouns: Non-binary, they/them

Video Game: Undertale

Backstory: “fell into big hole”

• “Fell down hole in mountain”

• “falled down a hole :(“

• “Backstory is unclear, we only know they climb a mountain, knowing it has legends of being dangerous, and falls into a hole (with it being implied there is possible sh implications). Throughout the game they are presented as a silent protagonist, as the player's surrogate. However when you examine dialog options, descriptions, and how characters' interact with Frisk, a personality forms. They're charismatic, a jokester, they love to perform and act, whether thats singing, dancing, joke dancing etc (i know i should be putting more here but its been a while since i played the game. Specifically while you choose dialog options, they generally have a coherent vibe that alludes to Frisk's personality outside of the player. hell an important part at the true ending of the game is learning Frisk's name. Its a sudden twist of "hey, this kid has a identity outside of how you molded their choices" i think its so neat)”

• “child who ran away from their home and fell into mount Ebot”

• “Fell into the Underground and either killed or befriend the population, depending on what you do and if you suck”

• “fell down a hole and became the avatar for the player (willingly or not). tbh i think everyone knows undertale by now”

• “They fell in a hole and now all the monsters in the hole wanna take their soul so they gotta make their way through the underground and then use a monster soul to get through the magic barrier to get out”

• “Just some kid that climbed a mountain for unknown reasons and fell down a hole.”

• “Vessel for the player”

• “Was bullied and ran to a big mountain to hide away only to fall in a big hole and meet a bunch of monsters trapped under there”

Why should they win the tournament?: “they're objectively the best videogame kid”

• “The child protag of all time, I love them”

• “frisk undertale”

• “I just think theyre neat. I feel like too often they're sidelined as just a silent player surrogate character, but when you actually dig into their character there's some wild stuff. Frisk is just so fun, actual madlad of a child.”

• “they are so cools <3”

• “Frisk has the best expression throughout the entire game: -_- . They wear a striped shirt. They are iconic. There is a lamp, conveniently shaped just like them

• “iconic video game child”

• “The most Child a kid could possibly be”

• “Undertale is probably one of the most iconic indie games out there, thus Frisk is one of the most iconic video game kids out there.”

• “I just want to see them lose cause pacifist ending or something idk”

• “Determination…”

[qnewsau]

The top 10 queer songs of 2024

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/the-top-10-queer-songs-of-2024/

The top 10 queer songs of 2024

The team at Popchops has revealed which songs by queer artists were most listened to in 2024.  

December brings a litany of lists like the best movies of the year, sporting moments of 2024 and, of course, the best music. 

So we’re joining the fun and highlighting some of the biggest songs of the year by queer artists. 

Instead of choosing our top tracks or Spotify’s most listened, we’ve enlisted the help of Popchops.

Popchops is a DJ team that puts on parties across Australia with a very lively online community of over 2,000 members.

This group is predominantly queer and each month Popchop’s own Brad Elias puts together a monthly chart of the most listened-to songs by the community.

He has crunched the numbers and collated the list of the top 10 most loved tracks by queer artists exclusively for QNews.

Here are the top 10 in reverse order:

10. Reneé Rapp & Megan Thee Stallion – Not My Fault

The collaboration between the lesbian Broadway singer and bisexual rapper was for the musical movie remake of the iconic film Mean Girls. Although it was released in 2023 we’ll allow its inclusion because it was late December!

9. Tove Lo & SG Lewis – Heat

The Swedish pansexual singer joined forces with England’s SG Lewis for this dance banger. It’s had over 25 million streams with the accompanying video “an ode to queer dance floors around the world.” 

8. Nemo – The Code

Non-binary artist Nemo did a little better at Eurovision than Olly did – they won the whole thing for Switzerland! Nemo described the song as “the journey I started with the realisation that I am neither a man nor a woman.”

7. Olly Alexander (Years & Years) – Dizzy

Gay actor and singer-songwriter Olly Alexander entered Eurovision for the UK this year. His performance embraced his queer identity and left some viewers clutching their pearls. Although he finished 18th at the Contest, it still found a loyal following. 

6. Orville Peck – Midnight Ride (feat. Kylie Minogue & Diplo)

Everyone’s favourite gay cowboy was back in 2024 with this Kylie Minogue collab. The song has racked up 15 million streams and is nominated for The Crossover Song of 2024 at the People’s Choice Country Awards. 

5. Billie Eilish – LUNCH

Billie’s second song on the list is the lead single off her album Hit Me Hard and Soft. The lyrics leave little to the imagination with Billie singing “I could eat that girl for lunch, Yeah, she dances on my tongue, Tastes like she might be the one.” It reached no.2 in the UK and no.5 in Australia and the US. 

4. The Blessed Madonna & Kylie Minogue – Edge Of Saturday Night

Although Kylie is beloved by the queer community, this song doesn’t appear on this list because of her. American bisexual DJ The Blessed Madonna collaborated with our pop princess on this track. The song charted ok across Europe but is certainly beloved by both their fans and the inclusion on Kylie’s album Tension II doesn’t hurt!

3. Billie Eilish – BIRDS OF A FEATHER

The singer properly came out in late 2023 saying she didn’t realise fans didn’t know saying “Wasn’t it obvious?” Birds of a Feather was her biggest hit of 2024 with it going no.1 in Australia and no.2 in the US and UK. She performed it at the Closing Ceremony of the Olympics and it is nominated for Best Song and Record at the Grammy Awards. 

2. Kesha – JOYRIDE

The bisexual pop star gave the gays exactly what they wanted this year: hyperpop-dance-banger-accordian realness. It barely charted reaching no.88 in the UK but has been streamed almost 80 million times—a true cult classic. 

1. Chappell Roan – Good Luck, Babe!

2024 was a huge year for out lesbian singer Chappell Roan. Although her debut studio album The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess came out in 2023, this stand-alone single made waves this year. It reached no.2 in the UK and no.4 in Australia and the US, and is nominated for Song and Record of the Year at the upcoming Grammy Awards.

You can join the Popchops group and help influence their charts by joining facebook.com/PopchopsHQ

Read next:

‘Wasn’t it obvious?’: Billie Eilish on her low-key coming out

Chappell Roan debuts lesbian country song on SNL

Orville Peck is GQ Australia’s inaugural International Musician of the Year

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[outeremissary]

Actually good gameplay/bad story vs. bad gameplay/good story poll has me thinking a lot about "bad gameplay." I feel like that's often treated as a really binary thing, but like. How many games out there is this subject often hotly contested on? How many older games, how many cult classics? I feel like for every game with "bad gameplay" there's at least one person defending the impact it has on the experience and atmosphere of the game. I've seen someone get heated about the idea of making inventory limits in older RPGs more lax when porting the games to modern systems because it removes stakes from the game to be able to carry More Items. You lose an edge of puzzle and of wilderness survival. The inventory management question is one that often pops up in discussions around horror games as well- what's a badly designed inventory and what's one that's frustrating intentionally? Or one that's excusable by the limits of its age? Is clunky combat bad in a combat heavy action game, or can it push the game's genre to suggest something else atmospherically? I really enjoy defenses of gameplay that's "bad" or "obsolete." I haven't been playing Dragon's Dogma 2 and have no way to judge one way or another, but I have heard it called unfriendly, backwards, and bad by detractors and unfriendly, backwards, and good by defenders. It's so fascinating where people draw the line and what criteria they use to determine what's passing and failing. And then when there are whole mechanics people love or hate too! I was looking at escort mission discourse just today. Conversation where on the one hand some people believe there's no way at all to attain a theoretically possible good implementation of an escort mission, while other people see even the most player unfriendly implementations as a challenge of player skill rather than a failure of design.

I don't really have anywhere I'm going with this, I just felt that the more I thought about it the more interesting it was because of the ways that gameplay could be interpreted through age, technical implementation, genre, and player tolerance in ways very distinct from how story and writing are judged. I think "good gameplay" as a concept is often positioned as gameplay which is snappy, clean, and accessible (accessibility exception carved out for games that sell themselves as Hard Games) with precise and technically well crafted controls, but I've seen so many cases for good gameplay being the absolute fucking opposite if it produces an interesting play experience. And you could say "oh, that's determined by the intent of the creators," but do you always have a way to know their intent? And how many games come together actually according to plan, with no schedule slippage and everything implemented exactly according to vision?

To use an example near and dear to me- yeah, I'm not leaving the Kingmaker in the tags after all- a part of Kingmaker's gameplay loop is kingdom management. You're exploring, fighting, and interacting with the world, but you're also coming to rule it through the kingdom, and this has to be balanced as a part of this loop just like all the other pieces. Kingdom management feeds back into the other pieces of the game- it gives mechanical benefits, it opens up new interactions, and when you explore it backfills the empty space you leave behind with something new, the kingdom, which can be further transformed. It also fills a different kind of empty space, the temporal space between chapters, and gives you meaningful choices to make when the plot isn't at a fever pitch by making it so that how you use your time has stakes beyond what exploration and quests provide. Kingdom management is also timer dependent and RNG heavy as fuck, and at points can feel very unfair even if I'd argue it seldom ever traps you and never traps you without an actual reason. It's also situated in a genre, the RPG, where RNG is seen as an acceptable and even expected part of gameplay systems. For me, kingdom management enhances the experience of the game and is an extremely worthwhile addition to the gameplay which plays in enjoyable ways off of other aspects of the gameplay. It's a part of a memorable and fun play experience. But so many people fucking hate kingdom management and see it as not just something they dislike, but something which is Bad in design and implementation. It's positioned as disruptive, unwieldy, player unfriendly, overwhelming, and arbitrary. And I see the case for all of those points. And I don't think there's any final way to objectively settle whether it's Good or Bad, and that ultimately what it gives to the game very much comes down to player preferences and playstyle. How you interact with a game gives these systems their meanings and impacts.

I don't really have a conclusion to this. It's just kind of word vomit getting the thoughts out of my head. ^^;; But I don't know. I think it's something really interesting, the fact that there's not necessarily an objective way of seeing gameplay as good or bad the same way that there's not an objective way to see a story. I answered that poll "bad gameplay and good story," but when I think about the games that make me choose that, it's not like they're unplayable even if sometimes I truly hate the experience of playing them. I think that their gameplay gives them meaning, specificity, and staying power in my mind for how I experienced the game because of this gameplay in a way that games with "good" gameplay can't always provide.

[talenlee]

The Gliscor In A Coal Mine

Gunna talk about Smogon here. Oh, you don’t know Smogon?

Weeeeell, deep breath.

Smogon is a Pokemon fangame played with the basic components of the videogame series Pokemon, which is itself, made by Game Freak and distributed by Nintendo, which you’ll probably recognise as one of the largest privately held companies in the world. Smogon, by contrast, are a forum and some emulators and a surprisingly dense little bubble of Youtube content.

‘Smogon’ in this context refers to a bunch of related games, that form a single fandom game, a folk game. They have, in the terminology I’m fond of using, made a game out of another game, which is a super cool practice I actively encourage. It’s how we get great things like, for example, the entire Legacy subgenre of games, from its dizzying heights of Pandemic Legacy Season 1 to the shocking lows of Pandemic Legacy Any Other Seasons. I like Smogon as a thing to observe through some sort of astrolabe or other technical device. I have no particular interest in engaging with the game itself, as they play it.

I don’t want to get into a play space with these people.

Not because they’re bad or anything, though they are overwhelmingly split between the still-thinks-he’s-on-4chan shithead vs autistic trans girl social binary of internet niches and you’re never sure what side that coin is landing on when you flip it. I don’t want to partake of Smogon because the game they’re playing looks unpleasant to me to play, and because part of Being Into Smogon means looking around at the game Smogon has made and thinking: Yeah, this works. This is a good system.

The current news out of Smogon, such as it is, is that in their OU format (short for ‘overused’), just banned the Pokemon Gliscor. Gliscor is redacted information that doesn’t matter, because you don’t need to know what Gliscor is to come to understand the problem that Gliscor highlights, and the lesson you can learn about making games and control over those games.

Smogon’s banning policy reflects a truth I espouse as a game designer: Players are great at identifying problems and terrible at solving them.

Pokemon as it’s balanced and released and supported and played by GameFreak is, competitively balanced for 2v2, 4-of-6 teams, with information openly available to players through previews. This has some odd knock-on effects, like poor Zoroark kinda got pooched when they make this information public, but whatever, there are more Pokemon than that that aren’t really for playing. This is a kind of game I think of as a ‘pool game’ – the game is built ostensibly around a pool of potential pieces, and you choose which pieces you use and how. Magic: The Gathering is a pool game, Pokemon is a pool game, and even games like Dominion are pool games, because the game pieces that are in the game at the start of each contest are determined by choices outside the game.

In the official tournament context, when it comes to limiting access to Pokemon, there are ‘mythical’ pokemon where you can only have one (or two, depending on the regulation) from that category on your team. The game is broadly speaking open, where almost anything in that pool is available for use. Now, it’s hard to dig into this for hard numbers, because the pool has a lot of stuff in it that isn’t really expected to be played competitively. There are Pokemon who exist for, most likely, their place in a single-player RPG experience, like most first and second form evolutions, and some that exist as more world content. Think Unown and male Combee. Of the pool available, that means you’re looking a pool of, like, around 1,021 Pokemon, you can’t act as if all of those are going to find a place in a competitive head-to-head environment.

The stat site Pikalytics gives us numbers of about 310 Pokemon that showed up at all, and in that space, 37 Pokemon were not allowed. Some of them weren’t allowed because there’s no way to access them, but Game Freak get to make those choices and Smogon doesn’t. Now, that 310 number is a really broad net, and it’s just the stats from one tournament with over 700 players. In that space, two or three people bringing along something for a laff are going to make it show up. And if we say, limit ourselves to anything that had at least 5 people bring it (so, a representation of .71%), that gives us a list of 75 Pokemon that showed up in the tournament. And the stats aren’t telling the whole story just like that — after all, two of the most common Pokemon, Iron Hands and Flutter Mane, were played on 50% of teams.

That’s the metagame for an official tournament, broadly speaking; the full pool is somewhere around 310 Pokemon, but the core of the pool is much smaller. And importantly, when I say there are ’37 Pokemon that were not allowed,’ these are Pokemon who are very specifically set aside by the game experience and with related traits indicating that they are not for typical tournament play. You never could play with them in this format, they are not appearing and disappearing based on feedback.

Smogon doesn’t have tournament-to-tournament kind of environment like this; they instead have a tiered tournament system which cares about usage and then cultivates that usage. What his means is that the Pokemon are divided into groupings described by, well, how often they’re used. That means the main, core space, at least according to the Smogon people I spoke to about it, is ‘OU,’ for Overused. Overused is a 1v1 format. At the moment, there are 31 Pokemon legal in Overused. You can use Pokemon from a lower tier in this tier, but it generally works out badly, because those Pokemon are not strong enough for this tier. There are 19 other Pokemon that were in this tier, but have been banned out of it, sent ‘up’ a tier to the category of ‘Ubers’ for being, well, too good. Ubers, for context, has about sixty two Pokemon in it.

That is, Smogon centralises its design space around 31 Pokemon, and only after kicking 19 of them out.

In the announcement banning Gliscor from their format, there were people calling for bans to Sneasler, Samurott-Hisui and Gholdengo. That would bring it up to 22/29, which feels unpleasantly close to half the format being banned. Even at 19/31, that’s essentially 2/5th of the format banned. And when you dig into this situation, you wind up chasing details that can’t address the whole problem:

Gliscor was too powerful at setting hazards and being hard to kill.”

“Well, why was it hard to kill?”

“Because it could heal from lots of small hits.”

“Well why not hit it very hard with a big hit, since it has a 4x weakness?”

“Well nothing in the tier can hit it hard enough.”

“Well, why don’t you bring up something from a lower tier that could do that?”

“Well nothing in that tier is good enough.”

“Well why aren’t there good ice types in this tier?”

“Well we banned the one that hits really hard.”

“Why did you do that?”

“It was too good at hitting things very hard.

And like, this whole conversation is is continuing to diagnose problem after problem after problem, but never finding anything that solves those problems. Because Gliscor being banned resulted in people talking about how now, there were more problems that had to be fixed.

A lot of this is the peculiarities of what Smogon does and doesn’t allow. For example, hazards are so important because everything in Smogon is expected to swap out constantly, and hazards make that hard to endure over time, meaning that hazards pull the game towards an end state. This swapping out constantly makes some statuses pointless (like confuse) and a lot of setup moves pointless too. It means that multiple sequences of turns can happen where players don’t attack one another because they’re just swapping back and forth to jockey into position. There are whole move types that are banned (baton pass and evasion boosters), because if you didn’t, people would use them. They had to institute a 1,000 turn timer on games because some tournament games ran that far without anyone actually winning the game.

What if those 19 Pokemon were just left as it is? You got rid of the Evasion rules and the banned moves and just let the game settle, as it is, on what people can do, in that space, and see how it works. I’m told it becomes a pretty simple game where everyone does the same thing of trying to get an angry fish into play with baton pass and kill your opponent. This is apparently a bad thing, where by banning a bunch of strategies the format is instead facing a situation where the’re almost halfway through banning the entire tier, to try and capture a way the game ‘should’ be. It seems to me the point of a usage-based tiering system means that if one tier sucks, everyone leaves that tier and recognises that the Pokemon in that space push a style most of the people there don’t like, and instead they go on to play in other tiers, like Underused. The best stuff gets pressurised out of it, pushed up and out into that rarified atmosphere by the math and social pressure of the natural churn of the system, right?

Right?

But they don’t.

They want to play OU.

And they want OU to be the ‘main’ format.

There are two competing challenges here, for me. The first is that Smogon can’t actually add anything to the game. They see their place as having to exclude things. I get this problem, kinda because ostensibly, they want their version of the game to be a thing you can play ‘on hardware’ rather than through their emulator. This ‘on hardware’ play therefore can’t actually add anything or overlay new rules, like, for example, adjusting the stats of Pokemon, or instituting score-based team building or even elimination drafts. And you don’t get to go ‘hey, that’s really obnoxious or hard to do,’ because Smogon’s ruleset is not easily processed or parsed, and it is not welcoming.

The second thing is that Smogon’s process for changing the game is their idea of democratic. It’s voted on by experts who can identify the problems and supposedly make good choices going forward. This means these people need to be socially active and engaged in the forum place and capable of earning respect within the competitive and social environment that represents which, let me tell you, that’s a worrying place.

And the thing is, this is all being done with an assumption that they’re trying to carve away what’s ‘wrong’ with the format to find the right version of it. On the one hand, yeah, that’s cool, they’re making a game out of another game. On the other hand…

Says who?

They use terms like ‘noncompetitive’ and ‘unskilled’ to refer to when a strategy can present a player with an abrupt choice and if they choose wrong they’re at a disadvantage, as if games with sharp swings aren’t competitive games that require skill. The language has the familiar structure of designers discussing problems with games but without the fundamental idea of being able to actually change it. Much like Smash players who try to remove variance from a game built around it, Smogon is trying to take something designed to get out of hand with crits and failure chances and make it fit something else.

Famously, new ideas and new mechanics get introduced and Smogon tries to route around them, to preserve the way things were in earlier generations rather than adjust to what the new generation is doing. Back in Generation 8 of Pokemon, Smogon just straight up banned Dynamax entirely; a mechanic that meant any pokemon could have a big bulky tank mode for a short period of time and punch through protects. That meant they played the entire format without access to a mechanic the main game was balanced around. Anyone who played Smogon exclusively through all the years of Generation 8 is someone who has no idea what a core mechanic of that game does to the game based on their play experience.

When Gliscor went, in that same announcement, people were bringing up, again, that they need to ban Terastallize, for the whole duration of the generation. Because the current format and game’s defining special rule is something they want to ignore, which just further builds on the idea that they don’t want Scarlet Violet OU. They don’t want the Pokemon that would bubble to the top of those usage stats so they could select where else they’d rather play. The only tool is shrinking the game… and it just so happens that it means that each generation kind of slowly but surely winds up looking a lot like the previous ones. They don’t want this ‘Pokemon’ game interfering with their game. And they don’t want to take measures to address these problems,because whatever they’re aiming at, it has to be socially agreed upon, voted upon, enforced by bans only, and only validated by vibes.

It’s all said with the selfseriousness of people sitting on the sofa glaring at the TV that they know what the game ‘should’ be and not considering what the game is. Which is fair! They’re making up their own game out of this other game, after all, and that game could kick ass! It doesn’t look like it, it looks like a rat’s nest of rules corner cases, with a stone-faced defensiveness that suggests newcomers have to Get Good and Do The Readings, and if you’re not involved, you should not dare comment on their game. Any opinion about their game must show due deference, even if it’s just recognising that it exists. An absence of praise is a presence of violence.

It’s very funny when they complain about Gamefreak’s decisions, mind you. Gamefreak’s game is one of the most successful multimedia franchises in the world and Smogon is a forum for a few hundred very sweaty dorks. Like, yeah, I don’t think Gamefreak are thinking about you when they make their choices about how to continue ongoing engagement with their multinational game empire. Which isn’t to say their game is better, the game you play is the game you want to play, but acting as if ‘Gamefreak doesn’t know what they’re doing’ – they do. They aren’t caring about you and the way you play the game, and haven’t for like… fifteen years? Your game isn’t unbalanced because Gamefreak are stupid, your game is unbalanced because you’re playing in the space Gamefreak is explicitly not balancing.

But okay, let’s look at what I said up top: Players are great at identifying problems and terrible at solving them.

These players are able to identify the problems they’re having. They don’t want to play doubles, and the singles game is balanced around a kind of play they don’t like. And when you’re dealing with playtesting of your own game, you need to be able to listen to this kind of thing and accept it as entirely neutral and entirely correct feedback. Players might lie to you about how they feel but you should always trust it anyway. They have identified a problem.

As it stands, right now, Smogon’s only tool they consider acceptable for changing this game is to take things away from it, and for the process of doing those changes being entirely social, and ostensibly democratic, with a real ‘well, if you didn’t vote, you don’t matter’ kind of approach to that.

And this is what you get.

Gliscor was used in somewhere between five and one teams in the Pikalytics, by the way.

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