#civil engineering is interesting sometimes

[ask-senku-ishigami]

// Heyyy I got my first sciencey ask... this may take a while because I cannot find the density of hair gel. I don't own any hairgel either so I can't weigh it myself. I will not elaborate (help)

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

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The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass

The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.

"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed. 

You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology. 

"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.

"How does it feel, Jamie?"

 Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."

"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"

You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.

“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”

She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.

“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”

The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.

"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"

Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?

"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.

“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”

“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.

"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily. 

You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”

You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.

“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”

You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”

Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”

Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”

With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.

*

Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.

"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.

"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically. 

"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"

It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."

His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."

Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.

"Cricket?"

"Is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.

"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."

"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.

"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."

"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"

Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."

"Then what is it? What is your problem?"

You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"

"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.

"Hello?" you answered the device.

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.

"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded, sadly.

"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."

"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."

The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.

"This one's important. We all need this to work."

"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.

Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.

Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.

Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.

Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!

"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.

He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes.  You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.

"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.

But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."

Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."

And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.

The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough. 

*

Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.

Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.

And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.

The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay. 

As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.

Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.

The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?

"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.

You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.

"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.

"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.

He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.

"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.

You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"

It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.

Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"

"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.

"Can't fuck anything else."

You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.

His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"

Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.

"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"

"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."

"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.

"What is it?"

"The competition."

"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."

"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?" 

"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."

"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."

It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.

"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.

"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."

"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.

"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."

Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.

"Ohhhh James!"

Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"

"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."

"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."

You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.

"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"

Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.

"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.

Focus! You told yourself.

"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall.  "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.

You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.

"Are you serious?" he muttered.

"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.

Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you. 

Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.

Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.

"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.

"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to make you come so hard." 

"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.

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[misdeliria]

bkg slowburn partners to lovers excellence

fyi: aged up, drinking, not beta'd, deal w it

Cupid's Chokehold (3.7k)

"I'm falling in love with you."

It rolls off your tongue without a second thought, and you relish the relief of your confession. Katsuki can't control his surprise, and you can read his answer off his face, and for a brief moment, you regret making your move.

The sting of rejection is quickly numbed purely by willpower, and you laugh airily.

"You have a terrible poker face," you tease lightly. You steel yourself for the next part by deeply breathing through your teeth. "You aren't interested in me."

"It's not like that," Katsuki mumbles quietly, his ears turning pink. "I need to focus on my career. We both do."

"Gotcha," you whisper, looking off into space, head turned away from him. "No, you're right." You clear your throat and begin to wrap up your trash from your forgotten lunch.

Katsuki seems to want to stop you, but he's silent as he watches you step out of your seat and make a quick visit to the nearest trash bin.

"Look, we're good," you assure him as you prepare to end this shared meal. "Nothing's changed. We're partners."

Katsuki raises a brow at you, remaining in his seat. "Then how come you're leaving?"

You respond with a dry laugh, fighting down the pit in the back of your throat. "Give a girl a second to wallow, Bakugo," you huff. Shrugging, you awkwardly shift your weight back and forth between your stance. "At least I won't be so distracted during patrols anymore."

It's your weak attempt to lighten the mood. Although, it's hard to commit when trying to come to terms with your rejection. Unfortunately, Katsuki doesn't find it amusing, and his expression remains a combination of surprise and confusion.

"I won't be as weird tomorrow," you brush off sheepishly. "Get home safe." With a single nod, you turn to leave before anything can stop you.

You feel like you can breathe again once you shut your door and feel your car engine rumble to life. Before you can shift gears, a wave of embarrassment and shame washes over you, and you throw your head back against your seat.

Pressing your hands against your face, you let out a sound of anguish, feeling like a fool. Raking your fingers back through your hair, you sigh.

"You just can't shut up sometimes, can you?" Your voice is quiet as it disturbs the otherwise silence in your car. "Brush it off. You're not dying." You shake your head and quickly note where the alcohol in your apartment is for when you get home.

-

Katsuki doesn't notice anything different about your dynamic in the days following your confession. You make eye contact easily and banter with him like nothing has happened. You're civil and, for the most part, stay on task during patrol.

You're the perfect partner, and yet, Katsuki can sense something has shifted.

"You're late," he grumbles, glaring at you as you stride to your desk with a compostable coffee cup in your hands.

"Would you relax," you dismiss him with a flimsy wave of your hand. You drop your bag onto your chair and start peeling off your layers. "We don't start for another ten minutes. I'll be right back."

You disappear to change into your uniform, and Katsuki takes this opportunity to invade your privacy.

"You don't drink coffee," he states skeptically after bringing your cup up to his nose and taking a whiff. The stench from the coffee is strong but not enough to cover up the scent of your lipstick coating the mouthpiece. He didn't even realize you wore makeup.

"Hey, don't drink my drink," you chastise as soon as you return, adjusting the sleeves of your uniform.

"You don't even like coffee," he accuses, setting your cup back on your desk. You respond with an incredulous laugh.

"No, you don't like coffee," you correct him. "I'm perfectly happy drinking coffee."

"Why would you need to drink it anyways? Didn't you get enough sleep?" Katsuki's glare softens as he gives you a quick scan, picking up the exhaustion clouding your eyes and the tentative way you handle your stationery. "Did you at least eat something? I don't need you passing out on me during a fight."

"You almost sound worried," you say with a dry tone, covering it up with a hollow chuckle. "Where's the trust, man?"

"There is none," Katsuki bites back quickly, but the humored glint in your eyes relieves him. "Are you almost ready to head out?"

"Can we ever just start when our shift starts?" You groan with a roll of your eyes as you return your stationery to their respective spots on your desk.

"Being on time is being late," Katsuki reminds you of what feels like the millionth time since he's met you.

He can hear you poorly imitate him behind his back, but when he turns to glare at you, you're inspecting your nails and obviously feigning innocence.

It's all too normal for his liking, and he's unsure why. He should feel grateful that you're not awkward after your confession and that you've moved past it and carried on your professionalism, but he's not. Not entirely, at least.

A little part of him can't stop hearing your confession.

"I'm falling in love with you."

Every time he meets your eyes, there's a brief pause, and Katsuki can't tell if it's imagination. You glow whenever you smile, even if it's not directed at him, and he can't look away from you.

You still grab lunch with him after your shifts, although now there's a thin blanket of tension veiling your conversations. And, outside of work, there's no contact from you.

Katsuki misses the days when you'd message him in the morning before your shifts, asking if he wanted anything from the shop that you stopped by for quick meals. He'd never take you up on your offer, but now he'll see you walk in with a to-go cup and wonder if you forgot to text him. He knows the truth, though.

You're trying to get over him. He can see right through your efforts, no matter how subtle you're trying to be. Katsuki notices the way you freeze up whenever he brushes his hand against your arm or grabs at you to check for injuries.

Every time, without fail, you'll clear your throat and yank yourself away from him, avoiding his accusing glare.

"I'm fine," you grit out, holding your arm that's obviously in pain. "I'll be good. Thanks."

Just let me take care of you, Katsuki will think bitterly to himself, watching you stagger away and doing nothing about it. You never used to be this difficult when he was just trying to do his job.

You'd argue that caring for you wasn't part of the job, and he'd find every fiber of him disagreeing with you.

"What are you doing this Friday?"

You're obviously surprised once you comprehend what Katsuki is asking towards the end of your patrol. You look flustered and waging an internal battle in your head.

"My idiot friends are having their monthly get-together," Katsuki explains, uncharacteristically mumbling. "They asked if you wanted to join."

"What?" You laugh, amusement washing away your nerves. "You're inviting me? What are they holding over you to do this?"

Katsuki glares at you, irritated that you guessed correctly. Mina threatened him to invite you, otherwise, she'd show up unannounced at the agency and introduce herself.

Normally, he'd go unphased by her threats, but ever since your confession, Katsuki's felt a shred of anguish that you'll disappear one day.

Even if he couldn't give you the relationship you hoped for, he wanted to provide for you somehow. And, if he had to expose you to his personal life a little more, then he was okay with that. As long as it meant you'd stay with him.

"They threatened to ambush us during a patrol if I didn't."

You fail to stifle your laugh, and Katsuki hopes to elicit more of that from you.

"I appreciate the offer," you eventually answer, and Katsuki feels elated at your initial positivity. It quickly dissipates when you reject his invitation. "I have plans this Friday, actually. For once." You laugh at your deprecating allusion, but Katsuki maintains his aloof expression.

"Suddenly, you're too good for my friends?" It was meant to be a joke, but his abrasive tone reveals his vulnerable ego.

You visibly hesitate to respond, and Katsuki wonders what you're fighting yourself on. What are you holding back from him?

"I have plans already," you repeat with more force, finalizing your explanation, and Katsuki feels irritation bubbling in his stomach.

You didn't make plans that required you to leave your apartment often – Katsuki knew this. You lived with your best friend, so most of your time outside of work was spent at home. Whenever you managed to come across real plans that involved wearing nicer clothes than sweatpants, you'd normally chat Katsuki's ear off about your anticipation.

"Do you have a date?" He blurts his question out before he can comprehend the thought, and he can feel the tips of his ears get warm with embarrassment.

You can't fight back the surprise from reaching your face, and Katsuki knows the answer before you nod.

You laugh sheepishly at getting caught, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear – a nervous habit Katsuki has caught on to after two years of working with you.

"Yeah, I do," you murmur, looking everywhere but at him. "My roommate set it up with her boyfriend's friend."

How come you didn't tell me, he wants to ask, but he already knows. "Is he nice?"

"Yeah, he's..." He watches your eyes glaze over as you get stuck in your head before clearing your throat. "He's nice. Why?"

Katsuki shrugs, feigning indifference. Inside, he's frustrated, but he knows he shouldn't be.

You're his partner. His work partner.

As long as this random head that's taking you out doesn't distract you during your patrols – when you're with him – then he can't shouldn't complain.

"Will you tell me how it goes?" His question is quiet because he's embarrassed to ask, but he wants to know. He knows not knowing will bother him, and he can't explain to himself why.

"Um, sure," you hesitate to answer, almost questioning yourself.

You keep details of your date private from him after Friday comes and goes. The curiosity eats at Katsuki whenever he catches you glancing at your phone or smiling at yourself at your desk, but he keeps it to himself.

-

Your shift today was harder than usual. A few minor misdemeanors followed up with a villain attack.

You could tell that Katsuki was frustrated throughout the whole time, keeping quiet and growling to himself more often than usual.

After, when you were packing up your things to leave for the day, you noticed Katsuki sitting at his desk with his head hanging low. His arms are relaxed against the chair handles and you think he looks defeated as people walk past him without a glance.

"Trying to get food?" You pipe up, sliding past him to lean back against his desk. You keep your demeanor light, resting your hands against the surface and keeping your chin up. "I'm starving."

"You head out without me," he mumbles, flicking his hand.

"Nah," you hum, smiling at him with encouragement. "Come eat with me."

"Wouldn't that make your boyfriend uncomfortable?"

Boyfriend? You frown at your partner, tilting your head with a curious look.

"My nonexistent boyfriend would probably be more concerned with my obnoxious partner giving me attitude when I'm hungry."

Katsuki finally looks up at you, and you widen your eyes in exaggeration.

"Oh my god, finally," you rasp, holding your hand against your chest. "I was planning on getting you a vest for your birthday to help you with your posture."

"You don't even know when my birthday is," he answers with a sneer, but it doesn't phase you.

"Of course I know when your birthday is, Bakugo," you tell him. "Now, can we please go eat?" You bounce off of his desk and pat his bare shoulder, shortly relishing the satisfying warmth that emits from his body.

Katsuki catches you by surprise when he holds your hand against his arm, squeezing gently.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, knowing what his answer will be but hoping for a rare moment of vulnerability.

"Just tired," he mumbles, not looking at you. You smile softly, understanding where his exhaustion might be coming from, and use your other hand to pat his spiky head.

"You're working hard," you remind him with sympathy. "You did a good job today."

Katsuki doesn't say anything, just responds with a nod.

You start to pull away, but he holds you in place for another moment. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you're hit with a familiar wave of infatuation that you've been desperate to avoid.

"We did a good job today," he finally says. "We're partners."

"I know, Bakugo." As badly as I want to be more, we're just partners. "You're not getting rid of me, unfortunately."

You're forced to yank your hand out of his, avoiding his glare when he turns back to look at you.

"Let's head out already," you plead, creating some distance between you before checking back to see if he's following you.

You can't fight back your smile when you find him out of his seat and pacing over to you.

-

Katsuki hates seeing you in Mina's apartment. It's like his worlds are colliding, and he's still not mentally prepared after a week.

He's grateful you let him pick you up and take you instead of finding your way there. He's also quietly pleased that you're glued to his side because you don't know any of his friends.

"I hope your friend likes this wine," you nervously babble in his ear, and it makes his skin vibrate with how close you are. "How do you not know what alcohol your friends like?"

"Cause I don't care," he bites back, arms crossed over his chest and sending you his normal glare. "And you shouldn't either. Not like they're your friends."

That was obviously not the right thing to say, and Katsuki immediately regrets it when he watches your expression fall.

"Then, why did you invite me?" You sound frustrated and lean away from him slightly. "What am I doing here?"

"Saving me from a night of nuisances."

Katsuki thinks he hears you mumble "Typically," but doesn't respond because Mina and Eijiro approach.

"Hey, Bakubro," Eijiro greets with a wide smile, clapping a hand against Katsuki's arm. "And hello to you too!"

You give them your name with a polite smile and present Mina with your gift. Katsuki has to fight the urge to put his arm around you – to protect you from his friend.

"I didn't know what to bring, but I hope you like this wine."

Mina squeals in delight, taking the bottle from your hands and inspecting it before throwing herself at you. Katsuki's skin prickles at the sight.

"I love wine!" She cries with glee. "You're so considerate! Bakugo never brings me anything."

"When do you ever bring me anything?"

"When do you invite me over?"

The glare Katsuki sends Mina is fatal, but she's unbothered, much to your apparent satisfaction.

"Let's open this right now!" Mina drags you away by the arm, and your panicked expression is enough to bring a soft smile to Katsuki's lips.

"So, she's the partner?" Eijiro takes your spot next to Katsuki and nudges his arm. "Think she's into you?"

The question makes Katsuki scoff, sending his friend a silencing look.

"She is? How'd you find out?"

"She told me," he answers gruffly. "Over a month ago."

Eijiro's eyes almost bug out of his head with how surprised he is.

"Why didn't you say anything? That's awesome, dude."

"Why would that be awesome?"

"Because it's obvious you're into her too?" Eijiro's brows furrow as he looks at Katsuki, who feels a burning fire in his chest light up.

"Excuse me?"

Eijiro sighs, scratching the dark scruff under his jaw. "Come on, man."

"What?"

"You invited her to Mina's shindig," Eijiro points out. "You've been her partner for, what? A few years now, and you're finally bringing her around to meet us?" Katsuki just glares at him.

"Maybe you should mind your business," he tells his friend.

"You're defensive because you know I'm making a good point."

"When have you ever made a good point?"

Eijiro feigns offense when he puckers his bottom lip out in a pout. "I've been known to have good insight occasionally."

"This isn't one of those occasions." Katsuki notices you reappear from the kitchen with Mina, carrying four glasses of wine between you. He clears his throat obnoxiously, successfully silencing Eijiro with a look this time around.

"Hey, here's a glass," you tell him, handing him one from your hand. Katsuki takes it but isn't sure what to do with it.

"I didn't ask for this," he mentions as Mina hands Eijiro his glass.

"He means, 'thank you'," Eijiro answers for him.

"You don't speak for me," Katsuki barks, but your soft laughter kills his irritation.

"Don't worry, I know how he works," you tell his friends as you sip your drink. "He's actually holding my second glass for me."

Mina giggles at your statement, but the smile on your lips tells Katsuki that you aren't joking.

A short while later, after Mina moves on to her other guests and Katsuki has resituated you and him on the couch, you swap glasses with him.

You're invested in a conversation with Sero, angled away from Katsuki, but your legs are curled under you, and the fabric of your socks flick against his legs.

"I'll be back," he mumbles as he rises to his feet, empty wine glass in hand.

He finds himself in Mina's kitchen, a few guests lingering around and chatting. He comes across the wine you brought, empty in an ocean of half-drunk bottles.

Before returning to the couch, he refills your first glass with another wine he finds himself hoping you'll like. You're alone and on your phone by the time he comes back.

"Decide to join in on the fun?" You ask with a beaming smile once you realize he's returned. Katsuki finds himself pleased at the sight of you dropping your phone into your lap without hesitation as he falls into the cushion next to you.

"For you," he says plainly. "For when you finish that glass."

You frown at him playfully, taking another swig from his original glass. "You trying to get me drunk?"

"God, no," he exasperates. "Wanna make sure you're having a good time."

"Good call filling up another glass then," you laugh.

I know how you work too, he finds himself thinking.

"I am having a good time, though," you confess, resting your hand on his leg and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you for inviting me. I like your friends."

"I think they like you more than they like me."

"Everybody likes me more than they like you. That's how our dynamic works."

Our dynamic. Everything you tell him comes out more meaningful than he assumes you intend. Katsuki doesn't know when that started to happen.

He cherishes the dynamic between you, and for the first time, he's worried that it's in jeopardy. That it's been strained since you confessed to him, and, right now, he's on borrowed time with you.

"Thank you," he tells you. "For coming. You didn't have to."

"I did, though, " you correct him. "Mina tells me she would have shown up unannounced at the agency if you kept me from her any longer."

"Well, she's an idiot."

You give him a knowing smile, leaning against his arm. "Then, you're an idiot by association."

"Shut the hell up."

Your gentle laughter is muffled by the wine glass against your lips. You finish your drink in a single sip and immediately hold the emptied glass to Katsuki. He wordlessly switches your glasses.

He watches intently as you take an experimental sip from the wine he chose for you, and the satisfied hum you release tells him you approve of his choice.

"This is really good. Nice choice," you tell him, holding it out for him. "Did you try it?"

"I'm driving us, remember?" He glares at you for your ridiculous question, but you roll your eyes.

"It's a sip, Katsu-" You stop yourself midway, and Katsuki notices the flush in your cheeks, but not without actively searching for it. "it's just a sip, okay? Try it."

You're shoving the rim of the glass to his lips before he can call you out on your mistake. He reluctantly takes a little sip and his face twists in disgust.

"I don't like wine," he tells you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after you spill some against his face.

"Well, that's a shame," you sigh dejectedly, throwing back the remaining wine with a few swigs. Even Katsuki knows wine isn't chugging alcohol. "I'm gonna run to the bathroom."

And when you return a few minutes later, Katsuki notices you curl up in your seat a little further from him.

an: wrote this for @/sarahlovesseb ♡

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I get an Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that finds out they used to eat a lot of weird creatures and monsters.

I may be obsessed with delicious in dungeon, but like maybe Mc got to try dragon meat and realized that despite it being an 'exotic' food, it tastes familiar. Only gets more surprised. The more weirder foods they end up trying that rnd up tasting familiar.

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC eats monsters

Julian

From a scholarly point of view, he's actually quite interested in learning more and documenting your finds as medical research

Who knows what medicinal properties these creatures might contain that have gone previously ignored? You could find some miraculous cure or random medicine if you keep snacking your way through the monstrous ecosystem!

Then again, he'd be lying if he said that practice was just as easy as theory. He's pretty well traveled himself, but some of the things you seem so eager to dig into are just ... so ... off-putting

He'll push through with most things but he will draw the line at anything resembling a plague beetle. He was force-fed one of those once and he never wants to experience that again

(he'd never try to keep you from making your own decisions, but to say that watching you eat things resembling plague beetles doesn't turn his stomach and make him anxious would be a lie)

Still one of the best researchers you could have helping you

He's got the background to understand physical nutrients and the importance of a diverse diet - and he's plenty dedicated to you

Asra

They are even more enthusiastic than you are

Sometimes you wish you knew what his limits were, because if things keep going at the rate that they are you might find out that he doesn't even have any

Faust is not helping either - she can and will help distract you if you've finally come across something you're hesitant to try so Asra can sneak a mouthful without being caught

On the plus side, they've tried so many different cuisines already that they have plenty of ideas when it comes to figuring out how to cook something new - and spice combinations you wouldn't dare dream of on your own

He also happens to have plenty of tried-and-true remedies for food poisoning as well (wonder why he learned all of those ...) and is more than happy to share with you if things go south

Absurdly creative with the whole cooking process in general

Keeps trying to incorporate magic. This does occasionally backfire when the beast being cooked is also magical by nature, and the two don't mix as intended

Nadia

She's politely unconvinced, but still mildly invested

Is she personally interested in trying all manner of unconventional dishes? Sure, if it's a well-established recipe from a trustworthy source and contributes to her cultural education

Your recipes, darling MC, do not cleanly fit into that category

She'll still try some, but only after you've been able to replicate the dish multiple times to the point that it's reliably delicious and safe to eat. Otherwise, she'll happily pass her portion to you

However, once you do find a creature that can be reliably cooked as part of a nutritious diet, she is all ears

Do you know what the state of Vesuvia is right now? Any new food source is a welcome food source, especially if it's a resource that isn't being tapped into otherwise. Tell her more about its properties

Will work with you and other nutritionists, chefs, and civil engineers to find a way to introduce it to the populace so they can take advantage of it

Who knows? Maybe if it's popular enough, it can be purposefully cultivated and turned into a major food export ...

Muriel

Not remotely surprised by your habits, for multiple reasons

For starters, he spent his teens living with Asra. In the woods. Who do you think came up with all those natural remedies for food poisoning??? Not the kid picking every mushroom they saw!

Second of all, he lives off of the land himself. The reason his grocery list is so short is because he's learned to find most of his sustenance in the woods around him. You're just doing the same

Third of all (and most importantly) - if it's food, it's food. It's that simple

Will eat anything you hand him as soon as he knows it won't poison him, no hesitation in sight and no further questions asked

His only concern about the whole thing is sustainability. He knows firsthand what happens when something throws the delicate balance of an ecosystem out of whack and he wants to make sure that doesn't happen on accident because you're new to it

Never really stops to appreciate any of the good flavors at first, but eventually develops a palette for the different spices

Insanely good at assessing what kind of nutrients it'll have

Portia

Being an excellent chef herself, she doesn't see much point in eating mostly monster food once the initial excitement has worn off. It was fun for several meals, but now she wants bread

This does not change her general fascination with monsters or magical beasts in general, though, or her overall interest in helping you on your special monster cuisine endeavors

Share the monster facts - all the monster facts

Will work with you on putting together notebooks full of information on monster behaviors, nutritional values, hunting and preparation methods, and ideal flavor profiles

Unrivaled at giving good cooking advice. The meat's good to eat, but too tough? Marinate it in something acidic

It's too spongy to be a starch, but too starchy to be a vegetable? Try roasting or grilling it plain and putting sauce on top

Knows all about how to maximize the "scraps" so that nothing edible goes wasted, and knows how to do it in a way that still tastes good and fills you up

Curious enough to try most of it, smart enough to avoid poisoning

Lucio

Okay, okay, so he'll admit it - he does get squeamish (just a little bit) at the thought of eating the monsters that tried to kill him earlier and he's not particularly fond of revisiting the "eat or be eaten" mentality that was instilled in him as a small child

That said, he is curious

And he very much enjoys all the hunting (and bounties!) involved

You're telling him that he gets to chase down a rare beast, enjoy the thrill of conquering it and the bragging rights that entails, get paid for disposing of it, and then get a free meal after he forgets about it for a couple hours? Sign him up!

Just, uh. Just don't remind him what exactly he's eating if it's from one of the grosser monsters. Devouring a deadly ancient boar? Awesome! Devouring a worm monster? ... yeah, don't ruin it

Has no issues with putting more resources into what you're trying to do. It means free food, bragging rights about killing and eating monsters, and dinner not getting dull and boring

Will not-so-subtly feed anything he doesn't like to Mercedes and Melchior when he thinks you can't see him

[lalalian]

futuristic dr ideas pt.1 : jobs

date: march 24, 2024 (technically march 25, it's 2 AM rn)

If you're interested in more futuristic dr things, I posted a video on tiktok with more futuristic stuff

A lot of this stuff is inspired the things I've read in cyberprep books!

disclaimer: none of my ideas are made by AI, sometimes I may be aided by AI to get inspired (especially with civilizations). If I do use AI somewhere in my ideas I’ll be sure to let you guys know!

World Acclimatizer

Also known as an ‘Acclimaitzer’

These help people move to other planets by aiding them in adapting to either living in space or living on different planets. World Acclimatizers often work closely with primary care doctors, and are extremely well-versed in non-earthly sicknesses and the effects space has on the human body. Realtors from other planets will always refer their clients to an Acclimatizer if the house is located on another planet.

Planetary Humanitarian

Planetary Humanitarians promote natural and peaceful development in other planets. These people typically advocate for limited human interaction with other life, some even going as far as to never stepping off earth. Planetary Humanitarians tend to dislike Civilization Examiners.

Cybernaut

Cybernauts work with techspace (technology relating to space) engineers to test out products. These people are often pretty popular in the media sphere because, as I mentioned earlier, many engineers are inclined to sponsor them. Cybernauts can frequently be seen in AR Gaming hubs and Cyber parkour arenas (more about those in the tiktok linked to this post)

Cybernetic Designer

Cybernetic body parts are designed by these people. These parts are not designed to look realistic like the prosthetic parts we see today. Most designers specialize in a body part, the most popular one being the left arm. Cybernetic designers are not licensed in creating full body AI androids, but they can create parts for androids.

Android Engineer

Android Engineers obviously do have some sort of license to make androids, but there are different tiers to an android making license:

Limited 2D Design: Very similar to character ai or j.ai bots, these bots do not have a physical form and can only be spoken to through text. They may have voices or a 2D body.

AR Immersive Experience: Like love and deepspace but with AR, you can feel, hear, and taste the android only through AR goggles. Some android engineers make their own goggles to allow their customers to feel a more personalized experience with new features. Why is this a completely different tier from 2D design? There's more room for corruption both mentally and digitally (hacking). The AI that makes the bots act so human can make the bot become too sentient, which could make them want to break free from the simulation.

Small Non-Human Physical Design: Most people with this license make android pets. Dogs are obviously the most popular, but jelly fish and vampire squids are popular these days. This license requires more training than the AR experience degree because these androids exist in the physical world.

Non-Human Physical Design: Designers with this license are not always involved in the abstract or purely artistic sphere. Many make hyper realistic android animals to blend in with the environment to either monitor species development, observe other planet-life in a non-invasive way, or encourage certain behaviors in animals. Even if the creature is not considered large, designers who plan to enter this field of design must earn this license because of this job requires complex AI design and ultra realistic visuals.

Non-Interactive Human Design: Designers with this tier do not create androids with crazy complex AI models. These androids are often displayed in museums, and are no where near sentient enough to even speak outside of a few lines, if that.

Life-like Interactive Human Design: This is the highest tier. People with this license often advocate for equality amongst humans and androids. Anyone with this license should exercise caution when making their androids, as talented designers can make androids that are so indistinguishable from humans that they become acknowledged as civilians rather than 'product'. Reports against designers with these license are taken extremely seriously.

Civilization Examiners

I'm planning to have a DR with this job kekekeke. I'll tell y'all storytimes if I can get myself to focus on shifting instead of scripting 😞

There's two kinds of civilization examiners: public or non-public. Public examiners assist journalists and researchers after living for days, weeks, months, or even years on a different planet. They collect data like plants, animals, environmental samples, and most importantly, get as much information as possible about other civilizations. Civilization Examiners are required to be at least semi- decent artists because they need to be able to draw what they see. They are required to come back with information about the civilization's culture, religious customs, traditions, language, fashion, appearance, parenting style, government, and more importantly, alliance potential.

edit: I forgot to talk abt non-public examiners 😭 non-public examiners work for the government and are apart of the CIA. Public examiners research about alliance potential, but not nearly as intensely as gov examiners.

istg more shifters need to talk about their futuristic drs :(

[eroguron0nsense]

Assorted One Piece Modern AU HCs

The Whitebeard Pirates are all part of a shelter/relief/mutual aid network for drug users, unhoused people, and vulnerable youth. Ace looks up to them all immensely and volunteers part time, but he's still very much on a journey of self discovery and healing

Ace is a massive music nerd and hobbyist with a near encyclopedic knowledge of genre histories and subcultural spaces. He goes to a lot of local acts his friends are involved in, plays the drums and bass and hangs out at Brook's recording studio/jams with him from time to time while he's in town (Brook loves Luffy and his family, and he's just happy to entertain young people who make or love music and let them use the space). He's undecided in his major but kinda leaning toward sociology or social work.

(Rayleigh is his prof, and unbeknownst to him, a college buddy/old flame of his bio parents who recognized him immediately and has no clue what to do with himself.)

Sabo is, of course, a socialist student organizer in a poli-sci/law program and interning at Dragon's practice (grassroots activist turned civil rights lawyer). The ASL brothers live together in a shitty apartment with barely any heat. He's secretly a massive film snob and organizes Radical Documentary Screenings with Koala from time to time.

Dadan has a cabin like 2 hours outside the city in the mountains and the brothers crash there every now and then over the holidays. She's retired now and constantly gripes about having to feed and shelter her stupid kids every time they come home but she still gets teary whenever she watches them go. Their childhood bedroom and three bunk beds are perfectly preserved and cleaned, and she wouldn't ever dream of moving Ace's posters or Sabo's old bookshelf and criterion DVDs or Luffy's plushies and taxidermied insects.

Brook's band is a genre-blending indie darling that occasionally tours the country. I'm definitely not the first one to think of this, but Laboon is a Newfoundland with severe separation anxiety and Brook has to bring him on tour or to half of the group outings. The Rumbar Pirates are a local jazz act he performs with from time to time, and he may or may not have dated Calico Yorki.

Usopp (fresh out of high school) only recently reconnected with his father and they've been having awkward family dinners with Kaya but it's getting less weird having Yasopp around. He babysits the Usopp Pirates part time and they love him to pieces; he's low-key interested in studying Botany and horticulture and has been checking out local degrees and training programs.

Franky's in the middle of an auto mechanic apprenticeship and is debating trying to get into a mech eng program at Robin's university; he was raised by Tom as a carpenter, and has worked as one for a really long time, but he's increasingly getting into engines and inventing things and the family's very supportive. Robin's a Masters student doing an hourly TA thing in Clover's class on Archaeology of the Void Century, and they're married.

Sanji, naturally, works at the Baratie and Zeff lets him brainstorm and test daily specials or set menus for holidays. He and Pudding are in the same patissier courses at culinary school (she's obviously a baking major); they're exes who've stayed friends and care deeply for each other. The ASL brothers sometimes pick up shifts at the Baratie (with the exception of Luffy who broke way too many dishes)–Zeff really likes all of Sanji's friends and dumps leftovers on them

[fefeman]

Oban Star Racers review

Yesterday I decided to watch Oban Star Racers, since it was a series I slept on when I was a kid and I heard a lot of good for it. So I binged the 26 episodes yesterday and today.

Overall verdict: FUCKING DOPE. 9/10

Very good series overall. It has a pretty unique art style (most notable on the humanoid characters) but it makes it work and uses it well to have pretty dynamic and expressive characters and gorgeous environments. And it's a very neatly written story, that finds the right balance between a sport fiction (racing), the overarching space opera/space fantasy narrative, and the interpersonal drama.

And the OP is pretty good and sells the color.

The plot :

(two ships preparing for the preliminary of the Oban Star Race)

In the future, humanity is set to participate in a racing competition between civilizations of the galaxy, where the winner will receive the "ultimate prize" from a sort of "god" of the galaxy. Eva, a young girl who wishes to be recognized by her father (both literally and figuratively), gets involved in this race when said father becomes the manager of the earth team... And it soon turns out the competition has way higher stakes than everyone believed.

The plot reminded me bit of Red Lines, albeit with far looser vehicle rules than it (one competitor rides a giant beetle... ONE COMPETITOR JUST FLY HIMSELF), although I don't think a more in-depth comparison is worthwhile. Ultimately they provide different experiences despite the similarities.

A more in-depth rating would be :

Story:

very well written with good dialogue. None of the 3 main storylines (racing, drama, mystery) feel underdeveloped compared to the other, and they all manage to fit right into place as the plot progresses. The only downside is some plot points could have been introduced earlier and in more detail, but this only concerns a few.

9/10

Characters:

The characters are colorful and interesting. The secondary cast have a lot of personality, with unique ship design that sometime really push the definition of "racing ship".

(one of the secondary cat... I mean cast, Para-dice)

And the recurring cast isn't left behind. They are complex and nuanced, flawed people who sometimes make bad decisions, but always act in an understandable way. Sometimes their reasoning is more implied than explained, but it's not easy to miss it.

(The short guy with black and white hair is Don Wei, the protagonist's father. The tall dude with his tits out and sunglasses is Rick Thunderbolt, a pilot for the earth team)

The only issues are that one character is developed and leaves the story way too quickly and that some are a bit too simple/one not. But it's a minority and it's probably to balance give more time to the interpersonal drama.

8/10

Art :

The art style surprises a bit, but you get used to it quickly. It makes for expressive characters, and it's stylization make the humans not feel boring compared to the many aliens.

(you may have noticed they don't have noses)

There's also some clever use of 3D here and there, but it's well integrated so it doesn't feel too jarring. And the environment are fun to look at.

(This isn't what you expect to see when you're told you're going for an interplanetary racing competition. But I really like this planet, Alwas)

8/10

Music:

The music is good guys. I put the OP above, but the ost is also great, both for actions and non-action scenes. I really like the preliminary planet's theme... it really sells the confusion of humans reaching a new world they've never seen before with a pre-fire spacefaring civilization (that uses caterpillar-powered engines).

And Prince Aikka's theme is also cool.

Anyway, for the music, I was gonna give it a 8/10, but now that I listened to them again for this review, I realize they do carry a lot of making this experience pleasant. So

9/10

Worldbuilding:

That's a very important factor if you make Sci-fan, so I thought it was good to make it a category. Oban's setting succeed in the two key point I look for in a fictional universe: It makes its own sauce, and it looks alive.

Not everything in the setting is unique, but it offers some fresh concepts or visual identity make the inspiration turn. Like, I really enjoyed Ceres' ship being an amalgam of tubes that shouldn't fly, and that he rode standing on it rather than in a cockpit.

or spirit weird anatomy that looks like an unraveled humanoid

Or hell, Oban (the planet) itself functions in a way I haven't seen yet in sci-fi. that's what I mean by "make its own sauce". I can look at some elements of it and say "Wow, you don't see that every day" and get a rush of inspiration from the new flavor.

As for the "looks alive" part, by that I meant that the series gives the impression if I put the camera away from the main plot, there still would be interesting things to see. We know a lot is going on offscreen. We only see one of the 3 preliminaries... that's a lot of teams we haven't met... And even with the one we met, there's political intrigue in their homeworld, tragedies they wish to repair, etc... It's a universe where you feel you could always find something new to look at.

10/10

So, once again

OVERALL RATING: 9/10

[flames-unicorns-and-sentryguns]

Larping AU

or: everyone is just playing pretend. The Administrator is someone just kinda watching from the property next door.

Everyone's real life deal

Scout: community college student in his first/ second year. Works part time at subway, working on/ wants to be a voice actor and artist. Not related to Spy here.

Spy: an actual Actor, befriends Scout and males their characters have the Father son relationship. Wears lots of costume pieces and clothes to hide himself.

Demoman: a Scotsman who owns a bar and has a special interest in explosives.

Solider: a history teacher at the college scout goes to. Knows his stuff and will throw in some factual historical/ casual knowledge into his pretend nonsensical yelling.

heavy: a literature teacher at the same college. Befriends Solider, got introduced to Demoman via Solider. Zhanna hangs out with him and ends up as part of the Lore of their game. Met Scout outside of work because he happens to visit the same shop scout works at.

Engineer: is a civil/ electrical engineer. Has wrist and hand problems and wears a brace. Can't actually play the guitar ( partially due to his wrist pain). So he brings around a guitar hero guitar to pretend to play it. Accidentally said yeah I'm playing an engineer because he did not realize they were picking their roles. All his machines are made of cardboard boxes. The dispenser is a cooler people can come by and grab snacks/ drinks and take a break.

Medic: an actual medic, dating heavy still. When he activates ' Uber' he makes the medic theme song with his mouth for 8 seconds.

Sniper: a park ranger at the local wildlife preservation park. Im not taking away the Bushman thing.

pyro: worked or works with some sort of painting/ spray paint and needs the suit/ mask. Friends with engineer still.

They all kinda know each other/ end up visiting the same bar. They got to talking and made a goofy story/ wouldn't it be funny if - situation and started making up a whole lore behind it..

Spy's cloak: he is throwing a blanket of some sort and everyone pretending not to see him. Doesn't smoke, but likes to chew on things. His knives? A Popsicle stick. His disguises? Still the paper masks

Engineer pretends his wrist brace is the Gunslinger and he gets to slap people.

the guns and bats? Nerf guns and the like. Heavys boxing gloves? Socker boppers.

The bombs? Glitter bombs.

Rocket jumping? A pogo stick/ trampoline.

Saxton Hale is a gym bro that comes by sometimes.

pyros flamethrower ? A broken vacuum cleaner/ hair dryer.

Medic carries around a toy medic bag. His medigun? A flash light/ a vacuum hose.

the classic mercs are some old people/ people from the old folks home they invited over for some of the main comic plot.

Merasmus is Soliders room mate and insists on trying to Play regular DND in this larp.

[mysticstarlightduck]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕃𝕦𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕀𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨) - 𝔸𝕞𝕪 𝕄𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕙𝕒𝕟

Let's go!!! This is the first character introduction post for What Lurks In The Hollow, Amy - the story's central character.

If you like this, pls reblog! 💕

🎞️About/General Info🎞️

A sixteen-year old highchool student, Amy Millihan moved back to her eerie childhood hometown - Vinethorn Grove - with her older brother after the death of their toxic grandmother left them with only debt, forcing them to leave the big city - where they'd lived for almost a decade - and go back to their long since abandoned roots. What she expected to be a calm clean slate for the two of them during the peaceful vacation period of the Harvest Break, swiftly takes a darker turn as an ancient curse and a string of mysterious murders/disappearances begins to unravel, revealing that, underneath the small town's apparently normal surface lie bloody, and paranormal, secrets. With the lives of her and everyone she cares about on the line, finding a way to thwart this ancient curse and defeat the Mayor's corrupt family traditions, may be their only chance to survive.

🎞️ More Info 🎞️

Pronouns - She/Her Age - Sixteen Appearance - Amy has long, wavy brown hair, which she usually keeps loose or - on rare occasions - tied into a ponytail or braid. She is average height, and usually favors pastel clothes with fun patterns, especially long sleeve shirts (the kind that the sleeve is a difference color/hue than the shirt's body) and light denim pants, and usually wears purple sneakers with star patches, being a big fun of space themed stuff. She usually rides a pastel yellow bike with a straw basket, and sometimes has her backpack on her to carry things she needs. Amy has a self defense baseball bat she takes with her when investigating or going places she deems unsafe.

Personality Types:

📸Enneagram: 6w7

📸MBTI: ENFP

Occupation: Student (currently on school break), Paranormal Investigator & Enthusiast

Place of Birth: Vinethorn Grove (moved away to a big city when she was six, after their parents died, moved back in with her older brother recently, now 16)

Orientation: Straight

🎞️ Personal Life 🎞️

Family:

Dylan Millihan - Older Brother & Legal Guardian

Status: Alive Age: 23 Occupation: Former Medical Student (had to drop out because of their grandmother's death + to take guardianship of Amy), now works 3 jobs - security guard at a lake resort, delivery driver and warehouse loader Relationship: Good, but he can be a bit too serious at times.

Laura Millihan (neè Hartwell) & Jeremy Millihan - Parents

Status: Deceased (have been for a decade now) Ages: (Laura) 35 at the time of death, (Jeremy) 36 at the time of death; Occupations: (Laura) Civil Engineer & Interior Designer, (Jeremy) Veterinarian and Artist Cause of Death: Undisclosed Freak Accident Relationship: Good but short-lived

Edith Millihan - Paternal Grandmother, Former Guardian

Status: Deceased (recently) Age: 80 Occupation: Widow (inherited her husband's fortune - as he had been a wealthy businessman), Compulsive Gambler Cause of Death: Heart Attack Relationship: Bad (Edith, due to her past and grief, was very distant and cold towards the siblings, often being downright absent or toxic when she was alive)

Best Friends/Allies:

Zach Taylors:

Status: Alive Age: 16 Occupation: Homeless/Runaway, Paranormal Investigator, Goth Enthusiast, Avid Reader Relationship: Good, is her current best friend and later on becomes her love interest as well.

Indigo "Indie" Lauriel:

Status: Alive Age: 15-16 Occupation: Student (currently on school break), Conspiracy Theory Enthusiast, Unnofficial Hipster Relationship: Good, is her former childhood friend who is reconnecting with Amy after she came back to town.

Christine Nespor:

Status: Alive Age: 22 Occupation: Freelance Artist, Artisan/DIY-er, Former Wanderer, Aspiring Poet, works from home + works at a local craft store as well Relationship: Good, Chris is Dylan's first friend in town and later becomes his girlfriend, so she's like a sister-in-law to Amy and takes up the role of the "laid back/friendly older sister".

The rest of the "Cryptid Crew" - Amy's other friends and allies who help her in her investigation and searches (those friends are: Savvanah "Savvy" Hahn, Erin Niemand, Liam Steele, Conner Watsen, Maeve Fernandez, Hayden Brooks and Charlotte "Charlie" Fritzgerald)

🎞️ Likes & Dislikes 🎞️

Hobbies/Interests:

Watching horror movies with Dylan, especially vintage ones or funny ones, but she also loves the actual scary ones as long as they're not too gory

Listening to music and journaling, especially doing random doodles

Reading mystery books

Riding around on her bike and enjoying the lakeside

Investigating the mysteries and secrets of Vinethorn Grove

Spending time with her new friends, especially Zach - who is her current best friend and future love interest.

Learning about history, especially historical secrets and unknown facts, as well as reading about folklore

Going to the local diner when they have the money

Additional Favorites (extra list here):

Music: Pop Rock, Dance Rock

Person (her 'comfort people'): Dylan, Zach, Christine & Indie

Candy: Sweet & Sour Strawberry Lollipops

Place: 1. Their lakehouse, 2. Her room, 3. The local diner

Fictional Creature: Nantinaq (alaskan cryptid), Aliens/UFOs

Scent: Chocolate, Vanilla, Petrichor and Lavender

General Dislikes/Hates:

Prejudiced people who treat others as lesser just because they don't understand them. That also includes small-minded people, especially elders who think that anything that strays from 'tradition' is bad or not good enough.

Anyone who makes a big deal out of something simple that could easily be solved or explained otherwise without much of a fuss.

People who spread harmful or unwanted humors about others, especially if the intent is to discredit them.

Feeling unsafe or uncertain about a situation or about a certain outcome, worrying that something out of her control might go wrong.

People wasting money like its nothing - reminds her of Edith and not in a good way.

Amy despises Mrs Draycott with the strenght of a thousand suns and hopes that 50-year old creep rots in the hell she must've crawled out of 💀🔥

Another person Amy hates is Zach's stepfather (when she learns about the boy's past), and she has VERY GOOD REASONS to.

Excessive summer heat or when the sun is too bright

Corny country songs

🎞️ Playlist: 🎞️

Butterfly Fly Away - Miley Cyrus

Girls Just Want To Have Fun - Cyndi Lauper

Fox On The Run - Sweet

Here's To Never Growing Up - Avril Lavigne

Up - Olly Murs, Demi Lovato

Welcome Home, Son - Radical Face

Bad Feeling (Oompa Loompa) - Jagwar Twin

What Lurks In The Hollow Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @finickyfelix

@lyutenw, @elshells, @thelovelymachinery,

@bookwormclover, @an-indecisive-nerd, @the-letterbox-archives

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[rmoonstoner]

Kinktober 18+

1 - First Time

Pairing: Virgin Jake Lockley x fem Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, injuries, angst, p in V sex, virgin Jake, not virgin reader, Jake as Khonshu's Avatar is hinted, reader is vaguely aware that Jake works a dangerous job, yes they both are attending university, small Easter eggs to show Marc and Steven are still there.

I DID NOT GET ANYONE TO PROOF READ.

***

You had been dating a wonderful man for a long time. About a year to be exact. His name was Jake Lockley, and he was everything you had ever dreamed the perfect man to be. He was tall, dark, mysterious, and sometimes brooding, but you had managed to brighten his world so much, he never brooded around you. Loving him was easy, right from the very start.

You met him one night after one of your night classes at the campus that you attended. Your class had gotten out just minutes after the last bus, which left you humming and hawing about a way home. You didn't live on campus, and your home was a good hour away if you walked. You didn't want to walk.

Luck seemed to be on your side, because you could spot a cab parked in the farthest edges of the parking lot. The driver just happened to be turning his car lights on with the press of his fob button as he approached his vehicle. You found yourself breaking into a brisk jog towards him, the poor cabbie having no idea someone was booking it towards him.

You could see the man opening his trunk and putting what appeared to be a laptop bag and his light blue canvas jacket away. As you got closer, you could see him grabbing a new jacket, this one bigger and in a bluish slate grey. He pulled it on, then switched his shoes from grey sneakers with velcro, to nice looking black leather dress shoes. He started putting on a dark grey flat cap, what appeared to be a black tie, and some black driving gloves as well. He looked like a student who was getting ready for work.

You were almost there, feeling like you were close enough to shout at him and possibly gain his attention, and that's what you did.

"Excuse me! Sir!" You yelled between your heavy breaths from running.

The man went rigid and he slowly turned around to see you barreling towards him. He wore an uneasy look on his face and he seemed to back up against the trunk while moving one of his hands to the interior of it.

"Please, sir. I saw your cab, and there are no more busses tonight. I was hoping you were on duty?" You panted as you stopped just about six feet away from him. He seemed to relax a bit and he slammed his trunk shut.

"Sí. Sure. Just getting on shift, actually." The man replied as he procured a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. He put one of the cigarettes between his lips and lit it, then he looked you up and down.

"Student?" He asked, probably trying to gauge the type of fee he needed to charge.

"Yeah. I'm majoring in a few different things actually. You look familiar… Do you also go to this campus?" You asked him as you studied his face. He looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn't place why. He appeared to be surprised, but then he smiled charmingly. That made your heart flutter to see. That smile paired very nicely with his dark brown eyes.

"Sí. I do." He said.

"What are you majoring in? I'm doing mechanical engineering, physics, robotics, and computer programming." You tried to see what classes he took, and he seemed nervous about answering you.

"Ancient civilizations, specifically Egyptology. I am also taking anthropology, archeology, astronomy, automotive mechanics, and forensic sciences." He listed off the things he was taking, and the last two were surely a surprise given all the other courses he was taking. You smiled at him, looking him up and down. He did not look like the type to be interested in any of the things he mentioned, except the last two.

"Oh, wow. That's pretty amazing. Which one is your favorite?" You asked, and he smirked, his eyes seemingly catching the moonlight just right. They appeared like a sheet of glowing white for a brief moment.

"My favorite is forensic science. It's fascinating yo see how criminals get caught." He said, then he took a long drag of his smoke, while the other reached out for a shake. You took his hand, noticing how soft the expensive leather of his glove was. His hand was so much larger, nearly engulfing yours.

"My name is Jake Lockley." He finally introduced himself to you. You smiled and squeezed his hand as you told him your name.

"So, about that ride, doll?"

***

That was a year ago today. Today was the day you decided to plan a test anniversary date on him. Your actual anniversary was in a month, when you two started officially dating. You had gone the whole nine yards for this, hoping that today would be the day you could move on from just making out, heavy petting, and him giving you the best oral you had ever experienced.

You got everything did. New lingerie, new dress, new shoes. You had your hair cut, dyed, and styled, then had your makeup done, and a mani and pedi all done that morning, while he was away on a weekend business trip for his boss, Conrad.

He was due back around the early evening.

Right now, you were just putting the final touches to your plan. You had the whole flat cleaned yesterday, and you had added a whole hoard of LED candles to the entire flat, with some real scented candles in the mix. They were scents you knew Jake loved. Cinnamon, coffee, citrus, and pine notes.

You had his favorite dinner roasting in the oven, a large rack of beef ribs, slathered in his favorite homemade barbecue sauce. It was a sweet and smokey, brown sugar, with jalapeños in the rub, coated in honey and maple syrup. For the sides, you made thick potato wedges and a very nice hearty salad. For dessert, you had made a butter pecan pan of cinnamon rolls with a thick and gooey icing.

It was absolutely perfect. You were sure this perfect night would finally knock the last brick loose in Jake's wall. The one that allowed you access to whatever goods he was packing. Fuck, you wanted so badly to have sex with him. He was so good with his hands and mouth, you imagined his dick would feel even better.

Nothing could derail this night for you.

Or so you thought.

The first thing that went wrong, was that Jake didn't come home in the early evening, which would have been a little after six. He had texted you to let you know he had blown a tire on his car, and he had to change it. Okay. No big deal. That would maybe take him what, thirty more minutes, tops?

But then, at around seven, nearly forty five minutes later, he sent another text to inform you there was a road block, so he had to take a detour. That would force him to double back about twenty minutes, only to take a new route that would add another hour to get home that you both hadn't planned on. By now, you had turned the stove to a holding temperature, and had cracked open one of the beers you had bought for him while you watched videos on the internet.

By eight, Jake still wasn't home, and he had not sent any more messages. You sighed heavily and turned to the stove, turning it off completely and putting the food out, cooling on the counter so you could put it away into containers.

By nine, Over half of the LED lights had gone out, the batteries dying from hours of use. The scented candles were still going strong, though, only being about a third of the way through.

And now it was ten. At this point, you were ready to accept defeat, and possibly go to bed once the food was cooled enough to put away. You felt like you had wasted the day. All that effort and planning, ruined because of a slew of bad luck that you couldn't control.

You slowly peeled off your pretty new dress and stared at yourself in the mirror for a bit. Perhaps you would at least leave the lingerie on, just in case, and you hung the dress up over the mirror by his bed. You grabbed one of his graphic tee shirts that you honestly had never seen him wear. It was a night sky print with a full moon on it and you basically were the only one who ever wore it.

You came back out to the kitchen and started to pack up the ribs into containers with a heavy sigh. At least your man would have a good lunch for work tomorrow. Just as you were putting the first container into the fridge, you heard the front door. The locks came undone, and the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was Jake, shoulders slumped, duffle bag at his side, and a wilted bouquet of flowers in one of his hands.

His face showed how tired he was, and it also showed you that something had happened to him. As he stepped into the low light of the room, you could see a bloodied plaster over the bridge of nose. His lower lip was split, and he had a black eye. You saw the slight limp in his step as he went to the shoe rack and toed off his dress shoes that were now almost completely destroyed and caked in crusty mud. He made sure his dirty shoes didn't touch the heels you had discarded earlier in the night. Heels he knew you hadn't even worn yet.

"Oh, Jake! Did you get into a fist fight again?" You asked and clicked your tongue as you came over to him. He set his bag down on the couch and turned to look at you with open arms. By the way one of his shoulders was significantly lower than the other, you knew he wasn't asking for a hug. He needed help removing his jacket.

"Hola, mi amor. I did." He answered you with a rough and scratchy voice. He sounded like he smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in a few hours. He smelled it too.

"Did Conrad at least help this time?"

"Yeah. Fucker owes me a new car, though." Jake murmured with a wince as you helped him out of his jacket, then his blazer. The moment they came off, you could see multiple splotches of blood soaked through his blue dress shirt, holes in almost every patch of blood.

"For fuck's sake. What happened to it this time?" You asked him calmly. By now, you had grown accustomed to him coming home from work like this. It was a silent understanding that you wouldn't ask more than he told you. In his words, a private detective of sorts that used his cab as a clever disguise to blend in easily.

"Shoot out. Took the scumbags down. Conrad covered the clean up." Jake huffed while you removed his shirt and went to grab him a cloth.

Whatever happened, must have happened right before he left to come home, as he still had open wounds all over him. You knew Jake had some sort of weird healing factor that he never fully explained, and you didn't question it one bit. He was always forever grateful that you never harassed him about it and that you always took the time to help clean his wounds when the healing was taking longer than expected. You knew by morning, he would be free from any marks.

As you cleaned him up, he gave the air a good sniff and he noticed the half put away pot of ribs. His stomach growled loudly and you giggled as he gave you a cheesy smile.

"Are you hungry? I made your favorite." You asked while wiping the last bit of blood from his stomach.

"Sí. It smells really good. You made that for me?" He husked the question as he pulled away to look at the food.

"Yes I did. I was just putting it away in the fridge when you came home. Would you like me to reheat some for you while you go have a shower?" You said. He shook his head with a grunt and started to grab a plate and fill it up, before popping it into the toaster oven.

"Okay. There's salad and dessert in the fridge, too. Cinnamon pecan rolls, with lots of that icing you like." You said. Jake hummed and when mentioned the dessert he groaned.

"¡Mierda! You're so fuckin' good to me, mi vida. I hope you didn't wait for me." Jake said as he dove into the fridge to grab the salad and the tray of cinnamon rolls.

"Actually, I did. I haven't eaten yet." You replied sheepishly. He whirled around and pointed his finger to you, his face showing his obvious annoyance.

"What have I told you about that? If I am more than an hour late, don't wait." He scolded you, and you looked down.

"I'm sorry." You quietly replied while playing with the edge of the shirt you borrowed. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes from everything not going the way you had planned.

Jake's eyes skimmed your form and his expression softened. He set the salad bowl down and padded over to you. He placed his hands on the side of your face and tilted it up so you had to look at him. He finally noticed the makeup on your face that was slightly smudged, the tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

"Hey, no, don't be sad, cariño. I just mean that you should not go hungry while waiting for me, okay?" He whispered, his voice suddenly several octaves softer.

"I know… It's just… This was supposed to be a romantic dinner, and now it's cold, and you're all banged up, and…"

"Shhh, no. No, don't think that way. It's my fault." Jake hushed you and drew you in a firm embrace. He stroked your hair and back and he started to sway with you to muted sounds of the radio that was playing in the kitchen. It did but it also didn't help. The flood gates opened, and you sobbed into his shoulder.

"¿Lo entiendes? Do you understand?" He asked, and all you could muster in reply was a strangled 'yes' and a nod.

"Why was tonight so important to you, mi vida?" Jake asked, sounding genuinely baffled about it. You took a deep breath in, and buried your face into his neck. You didn't want to tell him why, because the reason sounded so stupid and pushy.

"Nothing-"

"I don't think it's nothing." He said as he noticed the smell of your hair products. The fancy ones you saved for dates with him. He sighed and pulled back as he found your hands. He looked at them, seeing you had a fresh manicure.

"There must be a reason. You did your makeup and hair. Your nails are done up, and your brand new shoes are by the door." He listed off all the things you had done in preparation for the night, and you felt even more defeated.

"It's just the anniversary of the day we met. I wanted to do something special for it. You've changed my life for the better. I felt that day was just as important to celebrate as our anniversary…" You whispered and he squeezed your hands gently.

"Oh, cariño… I am so happy that you remembered that day. That's why I brought you flowers. Though, now they are wilted and useless." He paused for a moment and went to cup our cheek.

"I thought you would be upset when I came home so late."

"No. I am not upset with you. I'm upset things didn't go according to plan." You replied while moving your hands up into his sweaty hair. He sighed and rested his forehead against yours.

"So, even though it's later than intended… How about we have that dinner you made together, hm?" Jake suggested with a smile. You smiled back and nodded.

"Okay, though I didn't intend to have a romantic dinner in one of your tee shirts… Haha."

"That's okay. I didn't intend on coming home, covered in bloody holes, a black eye, and a busted nose and lip with wilted flowers. If it makes you feel any better, I'll go have a quick shower, and you can put whatever it was you had on before. We will pretend it's six o'clock again." He said, then checked the toaster oven.

He had just enough time to have a very short shower and get redressed. You nodded and dabbed at your eyes with his shirt. The idea didn't sound bad at all. It meant you could somehow salvage this night just a little. You just wanted him to relax, and now maybe when it was over, you could curl up to him in bed and have a good sleep. The sex part of your plan was long forgotten.

While he showered, you changed back into your dress and put your heels back on, then you touched up your makeup so no one could tell you cried. You quickly set the table and moved one of the unscented candles to the center, along with the flowers you put in a vase. Most of them were too far gone, but four of them were still as fresh as when he bought them. Just as you grabbed the reheated ribs from the oven, Jake came strolling out of the bathroom in the same outfit he was in, minus the jacket, shoes, hat, and gloves when you first met him.

His hair was slicked back, making him look sleek and clean. When he grinned at you, his eyes went wide as he took in your dress and shoes. You watched his face contort into look of longing with his brows furrowed, pupils blown, and his lower lip between his teeth. You noticed the plaster on his nose had been replaced with a fresh one. His black eye didn't look so bad with the mud and blood washed from his face. You could see his week's worth of stubble, with not a speck of grey. He smelled like his blood orange soap and his woodsy cologne, making your nose tingle with the pleasant and fresh scent.

"¡Dios mio!" His words sounded almost punched from his lungs as he came up to you and held you flush against him.

"You're so beautiful, mi amor." He murmured right before capturing your lips with his. He seemed almost desperate as his fingers spread out on your lower back and ass, trying to pull you somehow closer. You blushed as he let go and gestured to the food.

"We should eat, cariño. I know I am starved, and you must be as well."

You both ate without talking. All that could be heard were happy grunts and slurping as you dug into the ribs and salad. Jake had two plates full of ribs, and a fairly large portion of the salad. He always ate so much, you wondered where he put it other than his delectable ass, thighs, and chest.

When dinner was finished, Jake cleaned up the dishes, while you did the table and reheated the buns. When they were sufficiently hot, you took the pan to the couch and sat down to eat them while watching an old mobster movie he liked. Half way through the movie, and half the pan of cinnamon rolls later, Jake had become a little restless.

He was fidgeting with one of his Rubik's cubes in one hand, his other twitching on the back of the couch behind your shoulder. One of his legs was bouncing up and down, which was a tell tale sign that he was nervous. You couldn't really fathom why.

"Hey, can we… Uh, can we go to bed now?" Jake asked in a slightly timid voice. You looked at him, seeing that he looked like he definitely should be going to bed, and you smiled.

"Of course." You replied with a quick kiss to his cheek as you got up and took the pan away to deposit back into the fridge.

Jake had scrambled up and to the bathroom the second you got up. What you didn't see, was him doing a quick once over of himself. He brushed his teeth and applied another half spritz of his cologne, then he used the facilities. He fixed his hair from the neat and sleek look, to slightly messy with just a curl or two hanging loose over his eye on his left side of his face. When he came out, you were sitting on his side of the bed just about to take off your shoes.

"Por favor, mi amor… Leave those on for me for just a little longer." His voice was a little deeper with a slight whine to it.

He sounded almost needy as he padded over to you and fell to his knees between your legs. He rested his forehead against yours and sighed as he wrapped his arms around you. You put your hands on his shoulders and rubbed his sore feeling muscles as he whimpered and nudged his nose to your neck.

"Te amo… I hope you know that, mi vida." He rumbled softly. You smiled brightly while creeping your fingers up the collar of his shirt.

"Yes, Jake, I know. I love you, too." You murmured, hands rubbing his neck, finger tips slipping into his hair. You could feel his lips mouthing at your skin, right on your sensitive spot.

"I think I'm ready… To take things to the next level… If you are?" He groaned with a firm nip to your pulse point. You whimpered and tugged on his hair.

"Oh fuck, Jake. Yes, please…"

Jake hummed in response as he went to pull off your dress. He was used to seeing you naked, so he was utterly unprepared to see lingerie. Pretty white and black lace framed your breasts and hips, and he let out a deep groan at the sight. His rough hands came up to cup each breast delicately with his hands.

He was always so gentle and delicate with you. Sure you hadn't had real full blown sex yet, but he was accustomed to your body through his mouth and hands. He was so good at eating you out and fucking you with his thick fingers, that you honestly had been satisfied with that alone. He knew every sensitive spot on your body and how to make you gush for him.

You likewise knew most of his erroneous areas. You had only ever given him touches through his clothing. He never let you pull his cock out to see it, and he never accepted your offers to suck him off. You never knew why, and you almost thought that perhaps something was off with him. He clearly found you attractive, and his dick got hard for you almost at the drop of a hat or a suggestive whisper. You thought a man like him surely would have been a stud in the pasture before you came along. He was sexy, gorgeous, beautiful, and handsome…

You were brought out of your thoughts as his hands moved down from your breasts, fingers ghosting over your stomach in a twitchy manner. He seemed nervous this time, more so than he usually was. You cupped his face and forced him to look at you.

"You're nervous… You don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." You whispered to him. His reaction surprised you. Full on tears filled his eyes. He bit his lower lip and pushed his forehead against yours, his eyes sliding shut.

"Mi amor… You're always so patient with me. You don't push me for more information about me, like you should. You don't question where I go for days or weeks at a time, and you always welcome me back without question… I love you so much."

"Jake… Sweetheart… Why are you so upset?"

"It's just… You deserve so much more than I can ever give you. I don't deserve a woman like you." He said solemnly as the tears fell down his cheeks.

"Honey, no… You give me everything I could have ever dreamed of. A loving, caring, and protective boyfriend. You're sweet and very smart. You're the man I love, and if you don't want to have sex with me right now, you don't have to-"

"No. It's not that." He interrupted and opened his eyes.

"Then what is it?"

"I… I've been keeping secrets from you. I am afraid you might leave me…"

"What sort of secrets? You're not married, are you?" You jokingly asked. His face stiffened up and he huffed.

"Oh God… You are married-"

"No! I am not married. I… I just… Fuck it's hard to explain. All of it is."

"Well then… Take your time." You said and kissed his nose. He smiled weakly then took your hands in his.

"Mi amor. I truly do love you. With all of my heart. You accept me for me, even though I am a dangerous man. I gave you a key to my flat, to allow you into my life more. To open up… But I have been dishonest with you…"

"Jake, whatever it is, we will be fine. I promise." You said and then rubbed his knuckles with your thumbs. He sighed and sat back on his heels.

"You know how I said I have two flatmates that are barely ever here?"

"Yeah. I found it odd how there's only one bedroom, though. Is it a timeshare thing? It would explain the baseball stuff, and the desk and shelves you won't let me touch. And all the little notes I find on the fridge or the fish tank."

"Yes… I… They aren't flatmates. There is reason you never see us together." He replied flatly as he searched your face for a reaction.

"Okay… Care to explain that further to me so I don't make assumptions?"

"The notes you find are from Marc and Steven. They are… They are like my brothers, but aren't. And no, don't let your mind wander. They aren't fuck buddies, either." He started to say, then he squeezed your hands a bit more.

"You know how we never really run into each other at the university?"

"Yeah. I thought it odd you never told me I could come to any of your classes, except the automotive one. I find it weird you're taking so many classes, yet you are also always busy working for Conrad." You remarked and he winced.

"There's a reason… I… Fuck this is so hard to explain. Again, I… The automotive class is far away from all my other classes. None of my classmates there are in any of the other ones I take. It is also the late night class, so I can just go straight to work in my cab. What I am trying to say is… I'm only Jake in that class. All of my other classes, I go by Steven Grant…"

Your brain nearly broke when he revealed to you this information. Steven Grant was one of the people that supposedly lived in this flat with him, and one of the two people who always left notes around.

"... Except for the astronomy class. That one I go by Marc. I lie and say it's my middle name to get around the fact that all of my paperwork is under Steven Grant Marc Spector…"

"So you mean to tell me that your name isn't even Jake Lockley?" You asked, your head tilting to the side in confusion. Jake huffed and let go of your hands to grab at his hair.

"No. My name is Jake Lockley. It is. I promise you it is. It's just… I have a disorder that was brought on by childhood trauma. Back then, before the trauma, there was only Marc Spector. Then after the trauma, there was Marc Spector, Seven Grant, and then me…"

"Oh. Okay. So you have that multiple personality disorder. Uh, disassociate… Uh, dissociative identity disorder?" You bumbled your way through the term and he seemed to smile at how calm you were. You seemed more concerned about saying it correctly, then him having the disorder.

"Yeah. That one. I'm sorry I never told you… I was so scared that you would leave me. I begged my headmates to be nice to you, and let me front when you were around."

"Oh… Okay… Have I met the others?"

"Yes and no. I was so tired last month after I came home from Spain, but I promised you a movie night. I couldn't keep my eyes open to save my life, and you were holding me and rubbing my back. I felt so safe, that slipped away into the back, while Steven came out to watch the movie with you. He didn't talk for a reason, because he sounds nothing like me. You haven't met Marc."

"Oh… Are they okay with us dating?"

"Sí. Are you okay with me having two other dudes in my head?"

"Yes, so long as they aren't mean to me. I would, however, like to meet them and get to know them as well."

"That's it? You're seriously okay with this? With them, and me?"

"Yes, Jake. I am seriously okay with this, with them and you. We are okay. I thought this was going in a different direction, honestly." You giggled a bit and ran your fingers through his hair.

"What do you mean, mi amor?" He asked with a small smile.

"I thought you were going to say you were a virgin, and that's why we haven't had sex yet." You said with a teasing smile. His smile slowly faded when you said that, with him looking down at your lap with a frown.

Oh no. Was he a virgin as well?

"I've never… I've never had sex before. I'm a virgin. I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh… I am so sorry… I didn't mean… Fuck, now I feel like an ass. Are all of you virgins, or just you?" You asked, hoping to not sound rude. Luckily he let out a small laugh.

"Marc isn't. Steven is."

"Okay. I understand. It is okay if you are a virgin. That doesn't change anything for me. It does let me know why you won't let me touch your penis." You replied with a chuckle and pulled him close, putting his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He let out a small chuckle as he hugged you tightly.

"You're not mad at me?" He questioned. You kissed the top of his head and squeezed his shoulders.

"No."

"Can we… Do you want to have sex with me? Even if it's my first time and I might suck at it?" He asked while sounding a lot less nervous.

"Of course, my love. Tell me how you want this to go."

"I want you on your back, head on the pillows. I want to hold your hand and your hips up as I fuck into you nice and slow. I want to make you moan, and come all over my cock while we kiss. I want to keep going until I come inside of you." He explained to you what he wanted, which made your heart swell. That was so intimate and passionate sounding.

"Yes. I love that idea. Let's try to make it happen." You purred as you gave him one last kiss to his nose and scooted backwards to the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Jake chased after you while he discarded his clothing. By the time he got to you, he was naked, his cock throbbing and leaking.

"Fuck… Baby, you're so beautiful…" You cooed to him as you reached out and stroked him. He groaned and rutted into your hand.

Jake slowly took a pillow from beside your head and he put it under your hips. He smiled as he reached down to slip his fingers inside of you. You groaned and arched your back, feeling the pads of his middle and ring fingers press against your gspot. Jake growled, his other hand slipping your panties off and throwing them over his shoulder. He sighed when you whined and tensed, your pussy squeezing his fingers as you soaked his hand.

"Mierda, that's so hot." Jake murmured as he took his wet hand and stroked himself, mixing your slick with his generous amounts of precome.

"Can I make love to you now?" Jake asked, his voice sounding sweet and desperate.

"Yes." You nodded and opened your arms, beckoning to him.

He leaned down and kissed you hard, his free hand finding one of yours. He laced his fingers with yours and he slowly slid himself inside of you. He groaned with every inch that he sank, his eyes closing as his tongue danced with yours. He bottomed out with a growl and he pulled away to look down at where your bodies were connected.

"You're so big… Jake… So good… Please…" You whimpered for him. Jake hummed and started to move his hips, his eyes glued to how he slipped in and out of you. The sight made him feral, and he moved to kiss you again.

"Mi vida… Mi amor… Te amo." Jake whispered as his hips sped up. You groaned and held on, feeling him hit that perfect spot inside of you.

"Jake! Oh, yeah… More… Harder, please…" You gasped and wrapped your legs around his waist to encourage him. Jake grunted and went harder, dipping himself even deeper with each thrust. He started to grind and rock into you, causing you to come undone and soaking the bed under you.

"Te amo… I'm not gonna last much longer, mi amor." He grunted as he moved a hand down between you. He was quick to find your clit and make sure you came at least once more before he filled you.

"I love you, Jake, fuck, fill me, please!" You begged him as he drew another shattering orgasm from you. He groaned and kissed you as he pressed as deep as he could go. He went rigid and spilled inside of you as he whimpered your name.

"Thank you, mi via. Te amo."

"No, Jake… Thank you. Te amo." You whispered back and then drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

***

Tags: @snippychicke @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @queenofclassy @clairewinchester14 @promiscuoussatan @mona-has-friends @lazyotakujen @timeless-crow @crazylittlereader2474 @bibibeu @novagonz3elz7799

[thosearentcrimes]

Read The Traitor Baru Cormorant, The Monster Baru Cormorant, and The Tyrant Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson. The series is quite well written on the whole, but I have some very significant caveats that will make my recommendation a bit narrow. In particular, the books ask the question "Is it possible to replace imagination wholesale with trivia?". The answer, by the way, is no.

I really like the characterization of Baru Cormorant. Most of the time. It is an interesting character conflict for the main character to have a deficient theory of mind and be continually blindsided by the behavior of others, either because she has not sufficiently informed herself as to what the rational thing for them to do would be, or because they are behaving non-rationally. It would be even better if this conflict consistently manifested in scenes other than those in which other characters berate Baru for this failing. Unfortunately during much of every book all other characters acquire Isekai disease. That said, the books do a good job of allowing character growth without robbing her of her characterization the way removal of character flaws can sometimes.

I mentioned that the books felt lacking in imagination. Instead of developing the various cultures that exist in this universe, they have all been randomly assigned a set number of inventions and social structures and geopolitical phenomena known from our world, unmodified, except with less/different misogyny. What if there were Romebritain and Chinafrica and Centroasiamerica and Just The Norse Basically, and they were all around the Mediterranean Atlantic Ocean. Sometimes the name of the invention is kept, like with hwachas, and sometimes it is changed, I'm not entirely sure what determines when. Ultimately, I am not of the opinion that pressing Randomize on the Age of Empires 2 civilization creator mod constitutes worldbuilding, though it certainly could be the first step towards it.

Now, this is perhaps a purely personal gripe, but every time a semi-vague allusion to a real-world thing was made, I winced, and every time it was "revealed" to be a real-world thing, I started swearing mentally. It was genuinely unpleasant to read when the density of references got too high. And the worst part is, I recognized every single reference, I think (at least, I'm pretty sure I know what the ant thing is, but I'm not sure what ants actually have to do with it). There's ways that moderately deep engagement with a handful of obscure fields can, if not quite substitute for, then at least enhance the effect of creativity or reduce the amount required. Unfortunately, outside of neuroscience (guess what Dickinson studied in college) and to some extent cryptography the engagement on display is remarkably shallow, and if I'm not mistaken consists primarily of the front page of r/TIL, CGP Grey videos, Mike Duncan's podcasts, the occasional wikipedia binge, and memes (though I salute the restraint it must have taken not to reference the ability of a trebuchet to launch a 90kg projectile over 300m oh god now I'm doing it).

Many of the references don't even make sense, I mean maybe the ant thing is just my ignorance showing, but there's other stuff. Pointing to the South Sea Bubble and John Law's Scheme as models for geopolitically disastrous market crashes is bizarre, since over the course of the ensuing century France and Britain occupied half of Europe and conquered India respectively, with literally all of their notable setbacks in the time period having been engineered at great expense by the other party. Of course peer conflict is not a thing in the Ashen Sea because each polity is a representation of a different colonial concept rather than a country per se. A market crash being totally devastating might perhaps be made to seem more plausible if the Ashen Sea economy as described made any goddamn sense. Falcrest has extraordinarily advanced metallurgy and tooling, which they use to do unreasonably complex cryptography and surgery and for no other purposes, presumably because Dickinson is mostly interested in cryptography and surgery.

Additionally, there are maybe two things that as far as I can tell aren't straight up lifted from reality (unless we count the general gender rebalancing), and they are the cancer cult and the lightning cult. Both fundamentally run on blatant author fiat. Now, I imagine Dickinson would prefer to call it plausibly deniable magic, but, well, it isn't. What he is putting in his books is physically impossible technology. It is described in technological terms and references mechanical phenomena, just in a way that does not hold up. I've seen Baru Cormorant described as Hard Fantasy. In my opinion it is actually low-tech Soft Science Fiction. This is going to be a matter of personal readings and I'm not saying it's impossible to interpret as Magic and/or Fantasy, but, well, I got the vibe that I got.

A thing I really appreciated about The Traitor Baru Cormorant is that a man wrote a book entirely from the perspective of a woman without ever seeming uncomfortable with it or getting weird and off-putting. Ideally this would not be a thing to point out specifically (it's not a thing I point out in books whose protagonists are men or boys written by women) of course. I apologize to men for what this implies. I just think it's worth highlighting and praising. For the other books, the point of view jumps around, but is still handled pretty well.

That said, I think for all their predominantly laudable handling of race, gender, and sexuality, I think the books highlight a substantial drawback of the concept of sensitivity readings. Obviously I don't have access to the drafts sent to sensitivity readers, their feedback, and the differences that feedback made to the result, but it's easy to get the impression that one of the most significant products of sensitivity reading is a proliferation of caveats and redundancies. Now, ultimately I suspect sensitivity readings probably helped rather than hindered the books overall, but it's something to watch out for and hopefully improve as it becomes an industry standard.

Between the haphazard assembling of moderately well-known references in place of worldbuilding, occasional clumsily didactic tone from both the characters (sometimes makes at least a bit of sense) and the narrative itself (less so), and seemingly morally insecure caveats, reading these books often feels like wandering down a street and seeing a building site, only to realize after a couple of minutes that there's a perfectly fine building there, except nobody ever took down the scaffolding, so now there's protruding steel bars and walkways and torn green netting all over. In other words, I suspect the books could have used a fair bit more editing, though of course I do not have sufficient information to assign responsibility.

I've been really mean about these books, I think. I did actually enjoy them quite a bit, when I wasn't cringing at the real-world references or the inexplicably didactic passages. I'll read the fourth one if it comes out, probably. Who should read them? Hm, it's tricky because I don't know whether you will consider it Fantasy, (Alt-)Historical Fiction, or Science Fiction, all of which you could reasonably consider it to be. If you like any or all of those, don't particularly mind seeing references all over the place, and like smartass protagonists, this is probably a series for you. Otherwise, read it if you like but it's by no means an instant classic or a must-read.

[dballzposting]

I don’t know how to fucking draw. 

Yamucha mall santa

BELABORED Textpost about Yamucha Dad Swagg under the cut

It’s a very simple equation .. it takes a village to raise a kid and Yamucha is a part of that village.

Picture this. Trunks is just a little guy walking around Capsule Corp. Sometimes he goes days without seeing his father, and when he does see him there is no warm greeting. That’s fine and cool because that’s just Vegeta’s way and Trunks is used to it / raised to it. He sees his mother more frequently than his father, but she is just as busy, and she is always trying to teach Trunks about computers and whatnot - this is fun and fine because Trunks doesn’t yet know that he lacks the natural spark for invention and that his potential pales in comparison to his mother. So it’s good bonding time.

Ultimately, his parents are concerned with his growth, and they do much to encourage it, and that’s awesome. But warm family time just isn’t the love language of the house. Trunks’s grandparents are pretty warm, but they also aren’t that interested in playing video games, just the technicalities of it, so Trunks’s conversation material is stunted.

Trunks will see the other Z Fighters occasionally, but he mostly knows Of them than Knows them. Sometimes, though, his mother will have a friend over.

And something interesting happens when Yamucha visits. Trunks can actually hear his mother laughing from the other room. 

And if he sneaks around the corner, he can see his mother actually having a real damn conversation with someone for once. Trunks never sees his parents converse like this, so it’s odd and enamoring to see Yamucha and Bulma talking like normal people. 

It’s weird, because it’s not typical to Trunks’s house, but he’s seen it in others, like how Gohan and Videl talk for instance, and it’s sort of .. nice to see.

Not that he’s thinking in those terms - he’s like, IDK, 9, and though he’s a precocious kid, he’s not yet adhering to adult standards of what’s “nice to see.” He doesn’t think that it’s “nice to see” his mother be able to have a non-argumentative conversation with a man. He’s not concerned about what’s good for his mother or not, not in that way. He’s still a kid.

But. He does grow comfortable to the sight.

Bulma and Yamucha’s conversations are still pretty much what you’d expect - Yamucha is only visiting to get this car fixed, she makes some harshly-toned but inconsequential joke about his being unwilling to pay someone to fix it so he’s hoping to get it fixed for free by a friend, and he rubs his neck and says “everyone’s a critic,” and she fixes his car and makes him have tea with her as payment. She complains that he never fucking visits unless he needs some help and he says the same to her. She asks him how life is going and he tells her that Puar is starting a new semester at Shapeshifting University, that he’s working on his Master’s. She says that she’s working on a new type of engine that will revolutionize the industry and he says that his wood stove keeps breaking in odd ways that he can’t make sense of.

She asks him if he still trains and fights and he says Sometimes. He asks her if she finds herself yearning for adventure and she says Sometimes.

IDK where I’m going with this. I don’t know what I haven’t already said in previous posts. It’s just that Yamucha is a nice man ...

Trunks is used to being either A.) treated like a little adult or B.) brushed off, so when Yamucha literally treats him like one would a child, it completely throws Trunks off of his rhythm and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

He ventures into the room where Bulma & Yamucha are conversing and Yamucha is quick to be like HEEEY KIDDO! THERE YOU ARE. WAS WONDERING WHEN YOU’D SHOW UP. HOW’RE YOU DOING?

and Trunks is like HWAH becasue now this man is talking to him and now he’s gotta snap to attention and be polite and civil like his parents taught him. But also it’s Yamucha he doesnt hold him in a very high regard at this time. And he’s just gotta get throuhg this exchange of pleasantries so that they can all move on with their day.  

Unfortunately however Yamucha is not Vegeta and he is not bored with pleasantries, he’s honestly interested to see Trunks join the conversation. Trunks is a funny little DUDE yknow? He’s always running around and defeating bad guys and stuff. Yamucha held him when he was a baby a few times and he always sends him a birthday card in the mail. He’s honestly interested, at the high point of the day before the daily fatigue has set in, to invite him into the conversation.

Trunks has no tact for this however becasue he’s not used to this senseless genuineness from an adult. Usually adults will get whatever info they need out of him and then exit the conversation. Usually there’s a point where the adult gets bored and tired and Trunks is used to this pattern and he knows how to recognize it and stop talking about things that only he cares about.

But before Trunks can understand what’s happening he’s being launched into this conversation about Minecraft because one thing led to another and now Bulma has momentarily adjourned the room and Trunks is sitting at this table explaining Minecraft to Yamucha. And he’s sort of fretful and stressed about it because he doesn’t know why Yamucha is doing this to himself? This isn’t typically how things go. 

So Trunks at every sentence is trying to pull the brakes on this whole operation, growing more anxious about it the longer it persists, and it does inexplicably persists - Trunks just keeps trying to wrap up his thought but then Yamucha seems to keep encouraging him. “So it’s a computer game? You can play it with an XBOX too? What about a PS2, I used to have one of those.” “You craft what you mine? What do you mine, rocks and stuff? Oh, that’s just the term for the mechanism of acquiring world blocks? And you can craft? Oh, Minecraft, that’s clever.” “You can build anything you want? What do you build?” “What’s a mob? What’s an NPC? Oh, they’re bad guys? Sometimes? Do you fight on Minecraft? WITH A SWORD? I see why you like it.” “Is there a plot? What’s ‘sandbox’? It’s an ‘open world’?” “Can you play it with other people at the same time, like those arcade games where- oh, different screens, same world? REALLY? Over the internet you say? Now how does that work?” “THEY HAVE WOLVES IN MINECRAFT?”

And Trunks keeps trying to Not go overboard but if you ask an obsessed 9 year old about minecraft What TF Do You Think is gonna happen.

Trunks is WAITING, WAITING, WAITING for the inevitable “say, kid, yknow, it’s getting late, I gotta run...” or whatever polite manner Yamucha will use to end the conversation. Trunks is keeping vigilante for it. He’s studying Yamucha’s face and words for any hint of it. 

Eventually- “say, I don’t suppose you got any snacks around here in this house of fortune, do you?”

There it is, the Topic Change. Yamucha moves to stand and Trunks silences the urge to finish the tangent he was on. He’s actually relieved - that was getting scary, he didn’t know when the interruption would come. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself any further, so he’s glad for the long-awaited topic change.

They set out to amass a plate of snacks. Yamucha encourages Trunks to pick his poison, and Trunks doesn’t know why he’s still being involved in this operation but he likes snacks so he sticks around. Yamucha remarks that Bulma hasn’t yet returned and Trunks can’t stop himself from responding immediately with what was on the tip of his tongue: 

“Yeah, she doesn’t like to hear about Minecraft.”

Yamucha laughs it off, genuinely entertained, saying something about how Bulma didn’t have the patience for most things. He suggests that they go find her and bother her, and Trunks says that she doesn’t like to be bothered when she’s working, and Yamucha says “yeah I know.”

Somehow though they end up talking about Minecraft again. And this vexes Trunks so strongly. Especially when Yamucha finally says “yknow I don’t really understand the appeal of video games myself .. I dabbled in it but it didn’t really take me far” THEN WHY ARE YOU ASKING ABOUT MINECRAFT ???

My point is that the “topic change” was not a topic change, Yamucha was totally gonna return to the Minecraft thing. Which, again, makes no goddamn sense to Trunks. 

Yamucha’s just a nice dude. And he’s not annoyed with Trunks becasue he A.) isn’t as seriously-minded as Bulma and Vegeta are and B.) is not Trunks’s actual father so he doesn’t need to fucking see him all of the time and deal with his shit on a regular basis.

IDK. That’s just a story. I feel like it’s a good place to start the development of Trunks getting attached to Yamucha though. Like there are many ways you could spin this but it all sort of starts the same .. Trunks getting judgeless attention from Yamucha, who is warm and friendly and chill and visibly mature and middle-aged.

I mean this could happen at any time but hear me out:

Trunks ages 0-5 would respond well to any friendly adult because’s that’s what babies are like. As long as the adult didn’t have a scary face.

Trunks ages 6-9 will take a bit more convincing to warm up to you, because he’s got opinions and a snotty attitude. But ultimately he’s polite when it matters and he likes to have fun, so if you’re fun then he’s fun, and he’ll be excited to see you, because that’s what kids are like.

Trunks ages 10-15 is an even tougher sell, because his precocious self-awareness now actually MEANS something, and progressively more so throughout the years. And though he’s living life pretty naturally and in-tuned with himself by necessity of his craft, he would still shudder at the sensation of affection / want of attention from an adult other than the expressly accepted Bulma & Vegeta & his grandsparents & Gohan & Videl & to an extent Goten’s parents. Being a little baby kid and wanting to spend time with a beloved adult is one thing, but Trunks is much too self-aware at this age to allow the easy flow of vulnerability. Like, HOW STRANGE. How strange to think he would need something from someone. How strange to think that there could be a shift in the familial dynamic that’s always been. So he would experience some confliction and some shame at a perceived immaturity of the self. Even though he is getting older, humans develop in a gradual way, and by his Saiyan blood he is still a baby, so he is still responsive to warmth and attention, even when it is bewilderingly unconditional and pleasant.

Moreover: Trunks has himself a self-image of self-sufficiency and independence by this time, and he would struggle with how small and clingy he feels when Yamucha is nice to him, and he may just avoid him entirely for it.

Trunks ages 16-18 is no longer susceptible to a new juvenile attachment but he is a kid who likes to party. He is friendly enough and could make a mentor out of Yamucha yet. He could love him like one too.

However in the event that he already had the experience of wanting Yamucha to be his dad when he was younger: by 18 he thinks he’s totally over “it” though he never gave “it” credit for what it was: how much he appreciated the sense of safety that being raised by a village gave him. And that’s literally a normal thing and Trunks is literally capable of seeing that but he’s not Goten so he still is a little slow on the uptake. So he thinks he’s “over it” but as soon as he gets eyes on Yamucha he .. Oh my god I’ll just repost the last image file of a previously-shared comic

This is just so goddamn funny like .. That first panel I wish was way bigger becasue I think it’s everything. The crazed and vigilante yet amiable and PLACID look. It’s like he’s a shark and he’s caught blood in the water. It’s like he was a normal dude before but then he got eyes on Yamucha and his middle-aged man used-car-salesman swag and a biochemical reaction began to occur in Trunks’s brain and he’s become one-track and pursuit-predatorial and now he’s looking at him like this

With so much warmth and love and contentedness .. like he thinks he’s amazing. Like he’s out for blood.

And then he warmly says “you could marry my mom and I wouldn’t be mad.” LIKE ... that’s so funny .. he’s 18 so he thinks he’s an adult but he’s still Someone’s Boy. He’s still a kid. It takes time to mature fully. He’s tall and taught like a greenbean plant and he hasn’t actually yet matured into the heat of the season ... He’s tall and energetic and he wants Yamucha to marry his mom so that he can see his mom get along with someone and for that someone to be Yamucha. It’s not that Trunks dislikes his father - he really really doesn’t - but it’s that he also wants Yamucha to be his dad.

By the time we get to Trunks age 23 - GT times - he really is beyond this. He really is a chill young adult by then. He doesn’t feel the juvenile attachment. He’s a mature organism. He probably forgot he ever felt that way to begin with.

It’s just funny idk.

ANYWAY.

In the event where Bulma and Vegeta formally split (which wouldn’t happen because Vegeta has nowhere else to go really...), Bulma would be cool with it but like any woman with self-respect she would undergo a certain grief to start. It doesn’t last long and she knows she’s happier being single but she allows herself the tenderness. And in this time she may reconnect with friends to feel better, including Yamucha.

And Trunks is around age umm idk let’s say 9 again, and he doesn’t think that his parents formally splitting is a big deal. From his POV, the only thing that will change is that he won’t see his father at the dinnertable anymore and he won’t train with him in the gravity chamber for a while (I say “a while” because Vegeta will come crawling back to use that fucking thing). But Trunks still knows where to find him, and he will still be training and learning under him. So it’s not a big deal.

His mom seems a little sad, which he wasn’t expecting. But she’s said and will keep saying that it was for the best and the mature thing to do, so Trunks doesn’t think much of it.

But much like how this post started, there’s a day where Trunks can hear his mother laughing in conversation in the other room. And it strikes him, rings in his head like a knell, secretive in its pull but inexorable all the same-... it’s been a while since his mother seemed so happy to be talking to someone. 

Under the guise of helping Bulma through this difficult time, but really for old time’s sake, but really actually because Yamuch’s cabin has a cockroach problem right now, it’s been arranged where Yamucha is gonna hang out and live at Capsule Corp for a while. 

OK don’t let me make this damn post so damn long. You know where it’s going. Trunks despite himself warms up to Yamucha and at the end asks him upfront if he’s gonna marry Bulma. And Yamucha is like NOOO No No No NO! Lol. And Trunks is like WHY NOT?? YOU GET ALONG SO WELL .. 

and Yamucha explains that he’s just trying to be a friend right now because he and Bulma did NOT work out in the past. And Trunks is like “Ok so are you going to live here forever then..” and Yamucha is like..........nooooo.........I’m gonna go home to my cabin ..........

and Trunks is like WHAT ???

And Yamucha, who is not trying to become a father, and who has been unsure how to treat Trunks as he sees him getting more and more clingy over the weeks, has to finally concede at this moment that: Trunks evidently needs this right now. He needs a friendly father figure. Yamucha wasn’t trying to get involved in all of this because he at this point in his life does not feel confident enough that he has what it takes to be a good parent .. that he could really give a kid what he needs .. he doesn’t think he’s good enough ... but at this moment he realizes that Well Soemone Has to Watch Stupoid Movies with This Kid and It’s NOT gonna be Vegeta So.....!!

so he tells Trunks “you know where to find me..!” and that he can visit at any time. But Trunks still seems a little sad about it and I can tell you why: it’s because he wants to feel loved enough that people will seek HIM out, not that the onus is always on him to maintain connections.

Yamucha sees that he’s still kind of sad so he makes an impulsive promise to “visit sometimes” and Trunks seems happy to hear that.

In any story you want to spin about Yamucha Dad Swagg I think it pays to consider Trunks’s hesitance to attach, because of his attitude problem and because he does already have two parents, and also how as a kid he responds to the budding connection with insecurity and confusion because even as a kid he takes it upon himself to be totally self-aware and to know everything, because that’s how his parents are raising him.

And it pays to consider what type of attention and affection that Trunks is actually receiving at home.

And it pays to consider that Yamucha is sort of washed-up and is in some ways content with that and in other ways insecure, and that he doesn't feel quite good enough to be a father but he doesn’t want to be without a family for forever, but he is a nice person who is good with kids, and Bulma is a dear friend of his, and he will do what he can to do well by her son. And he’s just naturally friendly and goofy and that gets him into hot water when he accidentally causes Bulma’s evidently-underappreciated son to latch onto him, like a baby bird imprinting upon you because you just happened to be there.

It’s all very simple really. At a Z-team get-together Trunks really wants to pull up a chair between Yamcuha and Bulma but he doesn’t know how to do that without it being weird (he thinks it’s weird becasue he’s self-aware to his own detriment). And he really wants the simple comfort of physical affection that he stopped receiving when his mother set him down as a baby for the last time, but he doesn’t know how to hug Yamucha without it being weird. And he really wants to just like stand next to Yamucha or something but he feels like if his own real father sees him standing next to Yamucha it’s gonna be weird.

In reality Vegeta doesnt give a shit, and if he knew about all of this then he would encourage Trunks to seek out the humanistic family structure he evidently needs to thrive, becasue Vegeta knows that he’s not capable of paying out in that way. But this all goes unspoken so Trunks just feels weird about the way that everything seems like it’s going to be okay whenever Yamucha is around, and he’s trying to find a situation in which it would be acceptable for him to cuddle up with Yamucha like a cat. 

It’s sort of stupid because that’s literally all it is. And there IS a day where Trunks drags Goten over to Yamucha’s cabin and they roast chestnuts and watch Caddyshack (1980) (one of the only movies that Yamucha owns and he always watches it when he’s sad and drunk and he doesn't even recognize it when he’s sober? He doesn’t know why he has it.).

And it’s fun obviously becasue Goten is there and they eat popcorn but when they’re watching the movie on Yamucha’s new couch (it’s new at this time) (it’s red and swanky) (he thinks it really classes up the place) (now there’s popcorn oil stains all over it of course but he’s trying to be gracious about it), Yamucha realizes that it’s a movie unfit for kids, and Goten gets bored when the popcorn is gone, and Trunks is not watching the movie at all because he is taking this opportunity to hug yamucha as hard as he can as he settles next to him on the couch.

And Yamucha is thinking “ummm this isn’t a very good movie for kids” but he literally can’t get up and do anything about it because Bulma’s damn bastard whelp is clinging to his side with the ardent ferocity of a drowning monkey to a floating log. And also the kid is pretending to be asleep so that no one will try to disturb him but his grip strength gives him away. And so basically Yamucha has to just sit through this weird movie. And Goten gets bored and really does fall asleep next to Trunks. So now Yamucha is committed to this damn movie. And there’s popcorn butter everywhere

Anyway. If Trunks started to bond with Yamucha then he really would want to learn stuff from him / model after him. And that’s where we may run into problems, becasue in practice, their continued involvement may be more of Trunks fixing Yamucha’s car then it is Yamucha teaching Trunks how to do stuff.

But there is still quite a bit that could be done here. Trunks would learn the Spirit Ball from Yamucha. He would learn how to go to diners and tip 30%, 40% if the server was cute. He would learn how to relax and enjoy life. He would learn how to hang out. He would start getting into Yamucha’s music, and then music composition once Yamucha pulls out his old guitar. He would pretend to care about baseball. He would have a new appreciation for monocolored suits. He would try whiskey for the first time. He would develop on his emotional intelligence so that he would eventually be on-par with Goten. He would listen to stories of the past because lord knows that Trunks’s parents don’t fucking tell him anything. ETC.

One more thing. You know that one .. science experiment where they put a baby monkey in a cage of sorts and gave it two “mothers,” one made of warm cloth that served no function and another that was made of wire and that contained a source of food? And they discovered that when the monkey was scared, he always huddled up to the cloth mother for comfort, even though she was not the one to feed him? And the result was something about the realization of the importance of comfort for babies? Yeah well it’s kind of like that .. Bulma & Vegeta are the wire mothers who offer substance of body mind and character, and Yamucha is the cloth mother who can’t do much for him but he’s always down to watch a movie and hang out or something. 

END POST. Good grief

[the12thnightproject]

6, 12, 19, 22 for Shingen? :o

Hi Lorei! Thank you for the ask!

Ahhhh.... Shingen....

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

I think we're both really good at organizing information from a variety of sources to put together a bigger picture. Shingen's a spymaster/strategist, and you often see him surrounded by piles of papers. I come from a research background (literary & history) and I love pulling together articles and resources.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Ha.... so many... Ok... a modern AU Shingen would be a civil engineer. He enjoys building and design (and a blink and you'll miss it note in his dramatic route discusses that he had built embankments to protect the people from yearly flooding ... which is true historically as well). In the modern world, he wouldn't have the kind of clan responsibilities that he does in the Sengoku, which means he would be free to pursue an interest that combines his intelligence, big picture thinking, interest in construction, and interest in projects that help people ... therefore civil engineering.

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

Hm. Well, Kennyo betrays his friendship in several routes, and Shingen continues to have faith that he's worth saving (which true in Kennyo's own route, but not in all of them). But that's actually a pretty fascinating dynamic between the two of them. I can't say that I dislike it. I do think that on occasion MC/Mai's relationship with him comes across rather shallowly. She's sometimes too focused on the fact that she's landed a hot boyfriend (but... you could say that about her in several routes).

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

I love it when a fic plays up his intelligence - both his smarts and his emotional intelligence but doesn't slide past the fact that he can be too stubborn and occasionally manipulative. And as a fic reader, one thing I am not going to do is criticize other people's fic... especially when I can criticize the source material instead. Cybird can get a bit lazy with his collection and story events, and default to MC trying to think of something nice to do for him, and Shingen being appreciative of her efforts. I'd like to the game give us a little more in the way of actual plot.

[scotianostra]

James Allan Mollison was born on April 19th 1905 in Glasgow.

Graeme Obree, Chris Hoy and a certain steam train have all bee called The Flying Scotsman in their time, but the original title goes to a man who actually did fly, Jim Mollison.

Jim would go on to become a pioneering aviator, breaking records for long distance flights. His marriage to fellow aviator Amy Johnson also saw them lauded as the golden couple during their time together.

Born the only child of Hector Alexander Mollison, a consultant engineer, and Thomasina Macnee Addie. He was educated at The Glasgow Academy and Edinburgh Academy and took an early interest in flying and obtaining his Royal Air Force (RAF) Short Service Commission at 18, he was the youngest officer in the service, and upon completion of training was posted to India, flying on active service in Waziristan.

At the age of 22, Mollison became a flying instructor at Central Flying School (CFS), again setting the record for being the youngest in this role. Shortly after, he transferred to the RAF Reserve and devoted his time to civil aviation. In 1928-29, he served as an instructor with the South Australian Aero Club in Adelaide, leaving that position to become a pilot with Eyre Peninsular Airways and Australian National Airways.

In July-August 1931, Mollison set a record time of eight days, 19 hours for a flight from Australia to England, and in March 1932, a record for flying from England to South Africa in 4 days, 17 hours flying a de Havilland Puss Moth.

Mollison eventually served in the ATA Air Transport Auxiliary in the Second World War. In June 1941 Mollison and an ATA crew delivered Cunliffe-Owen OA-1 G-AFMB to Fort Lamy, Chad. The aircraft was fitted out as a personal transport for General De Gaulle.

Mollison was feted in London and New York, and could lead the life he had always wanted. “I am a night bird,” he once said. “Life and enjoyment begin when daylight fades. Cocktail bars and clubs, music, beautiful women— that’s living. Daylight comes to me as an interval for sleeping until an afternoon drink helps to bring on another evening.” His autobiography was called “Playboy of the Air”.

When Mollison and Amy Jonson married in 1932 the press were delighted, they were dubbed The Flying Sweethearts by the press and public. . The match was was perfect for the publicity machine, and the two of them set about devising new aviation records: in 1933 they flew together from Wales to New York and had a ticker-tape reception in Wall Street. But marriage did not last long or end well. It has sometimes been assumed that the match was a simple career move on Mollison's part: certainly he did not halt his relationships with other women. Nor did it limit his drinking. As I said earlier, he got the tag “ the Flying Scotsman” but those close to him called him “Brandy Jim”.

As well as his Playboy lifestyle and heavy drinking Jim Mollison was also quick with his fists, and a manager from the Grosvenor House Hotel was reported as saying ” We've had the most awful night here. Jim Mollison and Amy Johnson had a fearful row and he's beaten her up. The bathroom looks like a slaughterhouse.” The marriage officially ended in 1938.

Mollison kept flying, and – like Johnson – flew in a non-combat role in WWII. Both of them flew in the Air Transport Auxiliary. Johnson died in 1941 after baling out of aircraft. Mollison had at least one close escape, when his plane was shot up, but survived the war.

Mollison later settled in London and ran a public house. He married Maria Clasina E. Kamphuis in 1949 at the Maidenhead Register Office. Mollison continued to abused alcohol and in 1953, the Civil Aviation Authority Medical Board revoked his pilot's licence. The couple separated but Maria bought the Carisbrooke Hotel in Surbiton for him – a temperance hotel.

Suffering from acute alcoholism, he was admitted to The Priory, Roehampton, southwest London, where he died on 30 October 1959, the official cause of death was pneumonia, but unofficially it was thought to be alcoholic epilepsy.

[dailyunsolvedmysteries-movedd]

Ape Canyon’s Bizarre 1924 Bigfoot Attack

In July 1924 five miners claimed that they were attacked by a group of apemen. The story goes that a member of the mining party, a man named Fred Beck, took a shot at one of the creatures after being spooked. Later that night, the monsters appeared at the miners’ cabin, tossing boulders and rushing the door to break it down.

According to The Oregonian, the first paper to break the story, the apemen were covered in long black hair. They stood at 7 feet, weighed over 400 pounds, and possessed great strength. At one point, they made a hole in the cabin’s roof and dropped a rock inside, knocking Beck in the head. Despite the apemen’s mastery of rock-throwing, the gun-toting miners were able to hold their ground. By the morning, the creatures had retreated, allowing Beck and the other humans to run out the log-fort and return to civilization.

At a time when the word “Bigfoot” hadn’t been coined yet, people referred to the miners’ violent apemen as “mountain devils” and “gorillas.” As word of the ambush spread, the story also became increasingly outlandish. A skeptical mention in the Engineering and Mining Journal put the number of combatants involved at “more than twenty animals,” while one Native American editor tied the apemen to the Seeahtik, a mythical tribe who used hypnotism to hunt for their game.

Although the Washington media’s interest in the Bigfoot assault eventually faded, the gorge where it happened was christened “Ape Canyon,” ensuring that the battle remained a part of local folklore. After the modern conception of Sasquatch took off in the late 1950s, researchers like journalist Betty Allen rediscovered the Ape Canyon incident and incorporated it into Bigfoot mythology. Probably encouraged by this new Bigfoot mania, Fred Beck sat down with his son Roland to create a memoir of the failed 1924 siege, titling his 1967 booklet “I Fought the Ape Men of Mt. St. Helens.”

Despite the long passage of time, Beck remembered the greatest Bigfoot brawl of the century rather well. Before that fateful day in July, Beck and the other miners had already come across large, unfamiliar tracks. The week of the incident, they heard whistling outside every evening, as though two creatures were trying to communicate with one another. During his description of the attack in the booklet’s first chapter, Beck clarifies a couple details that were misreported in the press. It was actually his friend “Hank” (a pseudonym) who shot the first apeman, for example, and it wasn’t true that Beck was hit in the head by a rock.

At most, Beck and his mining party saw only three apemen at a time, although there might have been more. When things quieted down in the morning, the miners came out of their cabin, and Beck spotted one of the creatures standing near a cliff. He shot it three times, sending the damn dirty ape over the edge, down to a fall that was four hundred feet below. After fleeing to a park ranger station at Spirit Lake, Beck wanted to keep the whole ordeal a secret, but “Hank” couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The story spread, journalists requested interviews, and curiosity-seekers and law officers scoured the area for signs of the attackers.

In the second chapter of the booklet, Beck reprints a 1964 news article about the Mt. St. Helen apemen, mentioning his own incident and the 1950 disappearance of a skier on the mountain. Further on, he admits to having been clairvoyant since childhood, noting a history of “visions” and “spiritual meetings.” Because a psychic element just wasn’t enough, Beck completely twists his story and speculates that the apemen were beings from a lower plane of existence. As a lost link between humans and their ancestors, the apemen sometimes manifested into our own dimension, anxious to ascend their petty state. They are curious, largely harmless critters, and are only searching for a higher consciousness.

This spiritual gobbledygook, although not entirely unwelcome for entertainment purposes, is entirely absent from the original ’20s reportage. There’s been debate over how much influence Roland had on his father’s written account, and even whether Fred Beck could remember the story as accurately as he thought he did. In terms of more practical solutions, a logger named Rant Mullins admitted in 1982 that he rolled rocks onto a cabin in the Mt. St. Helen area in 1924. Mullins had also faked giant footprints for decades, suggesting he was responsible for another important part of Beck’s “ambush.”

Another theory argues that the miners mistook a rock slide that hit their cabin for the monsters, and yet a third maintains that the assailants were teenagers from a local YMCA, who couldn’t be seen clearly due to the time of night. As for the Bigfoot that Beck shot and sent down into oblivion, this was either the case of an overactive imagination, or the brutal assassination of an innocent apeman attempting to reach a higher consciousness.

[aswegoalong72]

Reyal At A Glance - The Desert Rings

Map by @nexelart (twit)

The Desert Rings - Oceanside Paradise

The Desert Rings are the second most densely populated location in Southern Reyal, outside of the Land of Tenav's Dawn. Here is the location where many Alkanites fled to during the early migrations of the then recently civilized Lyratet. Surprisingly, the area is very fitting for their beliefs, as Alkan itself is a fairly salty world!

Today, while still being heavily in Alkanite territory, much of the religion in the region has switched more towards those who believe Reyal has magical abilities, or just one of the many flavors of Tenavism. Religious tensions have died down with the rise of globalization, and it is now a much calmer, happier place than it used to be.

The Desert Rings are located around the Great Southern Ocean, which is Reyal's only ocean. While seemingly inhospitable at first, due to the Lyratet's love for smaller lakes and other bodies of water, they quickly adapted to the saltwater filled environment.

The rings formed as a result of colliding continental plates, and can be very easily compared to the Ring of Fire on Earth, albeit much more pronounced due to Reyal's heavier geological activity. The region is very prone to quakes and volcanic activity, although the Lyratet have come up with ways to deal with this.

To make matters more interesting, a few hundred million years ago, a large comet hit the northern half of the ocean, digging up enough soil to create a small island. This island is now known as Therikine, which is a fairly important hub in the region for trade, mining, and paleontology.

u'un Nea'terno

u'un Nea'terno, or the Primal Desert, is one of the most inhospitable places on Reyal for habitation. Due to the mountains in the region, moisture is constantly wicked away layer by layer, creating a desert that never sees any rain towards the center of the area. Temperatures can reach up to 29C with no cloud cover, and the average rainfall is less than half a centimeter per decade. There have been wet periods in the past, but they've been incredibly far and few between. During these times, however, the desert has come alive, sporting very unique lifeforms that take advantage of the temporary situation. They hibernate the rest of the time, sometimes for centuries. As such, the region is an amazing time capsule for life, and has been the heavy focus of paleontologists and biologists in recent years.

Therikine

Therikine is considered to be the holy grail of Lyratet life. During early settlement, the region was discovered to sport a very unique biosphere, due to being so isolated from the rest of the world; many new types of food were discovered, with the most important of them being the components for ajjen. Ajjen is a traditional herbal brew which contains several stimulating chemicals, much like coffee here on Earth. Since its discovery, it has spread through the world like wildfire, and is on par in terms of consumption with just regular water.

On top of this, Therikine has one of the largest known reserves of rare earth minerals that are easily extractable, and is home to a series of caves that house some incredibly well preserved fossils, which were discovered by a team of scientists and engineers from the Global Resource Committee much by accident. They were searching for new phosphorus deposits initially, but two scientists used some ground penetrating radar to discover the caves after finding some loose fossils on the surface.

Gallak

Gallak, meaning "Long Shore" in the native tongue of the region, is the capitol of the Gallak United Territories. The city is the most populated in the region by far, boasting around ~163 million people. Gallak is the Alkanite's equivalent to Tyrateol, albeit much smaller in comparison to the hulking giant. Founded by settlers during the third exodus of Alkanites from the Land of Tenav's Dawn, Gallak quickly grew, slowly absorbing surrounding villages, all before turning into what it is today.

As religious tensions died down heavily over the centuries since its founding, Gallak has become more of a tourist town for those who wish to bathe in the warm, sunny waters of the Great Southern Ocean. On top of this, Gallak is known for its algae based dyes, which are only able to be grown in this area. The byproducts from bleaching the algae are added to food, leading to a unique yet savory and nutritious style of food. That's it for this entry; thanks for reading! Next week, we'll cover Therikine in more detail! Until then!

Directory: Intro | Climate | the Land of Tenav's Dawn | the Desert Rings | Therikine | the Great Central Desert Mountains | the North Glacial Plains | the Yuniv-Semat Basin | Juleg Marrdev Technocracy | Yuniv-Semat Trail | Ro | Velgae