#ear buds review

[crazydiscostu]

Gravastar Sirius Pro Gaming Earbuds

Gravastar Sirius Pro Gaming Earbuds

Today we’re looking at the Sirius Pro Earbuds from Gravastar. War weathered, gun metal grey and looking like something out of Alien, these earbuds have been put through their paces and are ready for your perusing. Join us! Disclaimer : Gravastar Sirius Pro Earbuds supplied for review purposes. Case Design The case and pods feature a mecha-futuristic design and a weathered airbrush effect…

[9moodofficial]

OnePlus Nord Buds 2r: True Wireless In-Ear Earbuds

Elevate your audio experience with OnePlus Nord Buds 2r. These true wireless earbuds deliver enhanced sound, customizable equalizers, an impressive 38-hour battery life, IP55 water and sweat resistance, and a gaming mode for OnePlus users. Discover audio excellence today. Order Now              Order Now              Order Now              Order Now Unparalleled Sound Quality Experience audio…

[everytechever]

Bose QuietComfort Noise Cancelling Earbuds II now available in PH

The QuietComfort Earbuds II from Bose adjusts sound to your ears, offers adjustable noise cancellation, lifelike audio, and a comfortable fit. #QuietComfortEarbudsII #QCEII #BoseEarbuds #earbuds #tws #headphones #nextfeatureph

The company that created noise-canceling headphones is once again revolutionizing the market. Last September, Bose announced the much-awaited next generation of truly wireless noise-canceling earbuds — the Bose QuietComfort Earbuds II. with Bose CustomTune™ sound calibration technology that intelligently personalizes audio and noise cancellation performance to the unique shape of every ear —…

[doumadono]

Hiiiii!

Your annoying anon here! 🔥🔥🔥

sunday is approaching so I'd like to again ask for Enji Todoroki and maybe... reader wearing really short skirt! I wanna know his reaction and the things he would do with the reader.

Dear Nonnie! I had a sneaking suspicion you might drop into my askbox again, and you did! ♥ You're genuinely my preferred Sinful Anon! Whoever you are, let me send virtual kisses and hugs your way. I adore the fact that we both share a bit of a soft spot for Enji. If you're up for it, please, please, feel more than welcome to slide into my DMs so we can chat a bit more about our fiery man! 🔥

SINFUL SUNDAY

Sitting in the room just outside Endeavor's office, you were engrossed in the papers spread out in front of you, carefully reviewing each one. The door to his office stood ajar, and through that opening, you could feel his gaze, his strong presence. His watchful eyes followed your every move as you worked diligently.

His gaze moved deliberately, trailing down your form and then ascending again, lingering on your bare legs, the very short black skirt, and the crisp white button-up shirt. You might have been dressed more formally than necessary for the hero agency office, but his apparent approval made it clear that he didn't mind in the slightest.

You turned your eyes back to Todoroki, only to find he had vanished. Letting out a sigh, you returned your focus to the documents on your desk. Before you could scold yourself for being so concerned about your boss's attention, you sensed someone standing right behind you. If you could have caught your breath, you might have let out a surprised squeal. With an uncanny certainty, you knew it was Endeavor, a realization that sent shivers down your spine.

Endeavor whispered, "If you're as wet as I am hard, we'll be fucking amazing." His hot breath tickled your ear and gave you goosebumps. "4 minutes, 6th floor, government documents," he demanded and left.

You rose from your seat, a growing frustration propelling each step. Your irritation was evident as you jabbed the elevator button with more force than necessary, and your foot tapped impatiently while you waited. As the doors slid open, you entered the elevator. When the doors reopened on the sixth floor, you headed towards the government documents section. You spotted your boss at the end of one aisle, his gaze tracking your approach.

He closed the gap between you two, his fingers gripping your wrist as he growled, "Why did you choose to wear such a short skirt, hmm? Was it deliberate, an attempt to distract me? Or do you like looking like a cheap whore?"

Endeavor yanked you toward him until you collided with his huge chest. He growled and walked you backward until you felt metal shelves against your back. He leaned toward you, and his heat was intoxicating.

You nervously looked to see if anyone was around.

"I don't give a damn who's watching," Endeavor growled as his lips moved toward hers.

He forcefully pulled both your wrists above your head with one hand, his entire body pressing firmly against yours.

Your eyes widened as you felt his undeniable hardness within his pants.

Todoroki shoved your legs apart with his thick thigh so he could fit his hips better against yours. Your short skirt bunched up baring more of your legs. He just leaned in and licked your upper lip, soon kissing you fully, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He parted your shirt after every button was undone. One finger softly rubbed your bra back and forth over your left bud, and you whined quietly. "Such a needy, little doll," Endeavor mused, son sucking your lower lip into his mouth.

You lifted one leg up and wrapped it around his hip to pull him tighter against your body and rolled your hips forward. "Yeah, I'm so needy, boss," you admitted without a shame. "I need you to fuck me."

His hand fisted in your hair and yanked hard. "Look at me," Endeavor demanded.

You obeyed immediately.

"I am not fucking you here. I need a bed and about four hours for that." His hand slid beneath your short skirt as he added, "But I gotta touch you right now, I gotta check how wet you are for me." He groaned in frustration when his fingers met your cotton panties, and he pulled away slightly to yank them down. They wouldn't go very far since you still had a leg wrapped around his hip, but it was enough to slide his hand inside. Endeavor shoved a finger inside your pussy and growled. "Jesus, you're so fucking wet, doll. You can take more already."

Before you could process exactly what he meant, Todoroki added two more fingers inside you. All three stretched you painfully as he pushed a little harder. "So fucking hot. I hear how wet you are."

You flushed as you heard it too - the unmistakable sound of his fingers moving in your dripping cunt.

He let go of your hair, fingers scrambling to undo the fly his pants until he held his bare cock in his hand.

You watched Endeavor's hand as he began stroking himself at the same pace his fingers were withdrawing and thrusting inside your needy hole. You desperately wanted to touch his thick dick, wanted to help, but you were so overwhelmed all you could do was clutch his shoulders and hang on. "O-Oh, yes, yes!" You moaned for him, your lips parted, your tongue running along your lower lip as it got dry. "Oh God," you kept moaning over and over between grunts as he shoved his fingers inside you at fast pace. Your head rolled back, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure.

Endeavor almost yelled, "Look at me when you come, bitch."

You opened your eyes and looked into his.

"I need to hear you," Todoroki demanded as he was jerking off so fast his hand was a blur.

He pumped his fingers into you harder. His thumb grazed your slick clit, and your fingernails clawed at his shoulders. He panted, "Mine, you're all fucking mine."

You screamed with your orgasm, forgetting where you were or who might hear. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers, and your leg tightened around him. "Enji, oh my God, yes!"

With a few loud grunt Todoroki came all over his hand, his semen slowly dripping down his calloused fingers. He groaned deeply in satisfaction. "Damn, you're so hot, doll," he slid his fingers out of you. He licked his forefinger. "Delicious. I need to lick you, taste you." He tucked his cock into his pants and fastened up as he turned away from you. "Come on."

You held onto the shelves behind you for balance as you stared after him.

He got halfway to the elevator before he realized you hadn't moved. You saw him turn around and head back your way. "I said, come on," he explained as he began buttoning your shirt. "I'm granting you a free afternoon. Now, we need a bed. I said I need my cock inside you."

[moonstruck-poet]

No Sleeping

Pairing - Fred Weasley x wife!OC, Fred Weasley x Lupin!OC

Summary - You come home late from work and get surprised by your husband and little Teddy.

Warnings - none

"Ted," Fred's tired voice was heard as he walked behind his naughty godson.

Teddy Lupin giggled as he willed his small feet to go faster, his turquoise hair flopping as he ran. He looked behind to see and lost his footing as a result.

That's when Fred saw his chance and swooped in, picking the little boy in his arms. "Gotcha you little wolf".

Teddy simply grinned and rested his head on Fred's shoulder, "Dada".

"Hmm?"

"No sleepy".

He looked incredulously, "Bud we've been going on for like half an hour. It's way past your bedtime now".

"No," he shook his head frantically making Fred sigh as he sat on the couch.

"Don't you feel sleepy?"

"Want Mama," he looked up at those chocolate brown eyes and changed his own hair color to a sandy brown, matching Ophelia Lupin's.

Fred smiled at the change, noticing them to be the exact replica of his wife's, "You miss her that much huh? She'll be here soon enough, although she's late today," he frowned and glanced at the clock.

"Mama...." Teddy's smile slipped off to replace a miserable face.

"Oh don't be sad," he pulled him closer and rubbed his back, hoping he'd go off to sleep. "Mama will be here, I miss her too. Wanna play with your toys till she comes back?"

He nodded and jumped off Fred's lap, darting towards the box kept in a corner and taking his favoured things.

While Ophelia Lupin-Weasley had just finished her work for the day. Everybody had been working late today so there wouldn't be any pressure before the weekend.

She had done reviewing atleast a dozen files regarding the protection of magical creatures, and it was safe to say that she was completely drained.

Ophelia got up from her chair and placed her palm behind her neck, massaging the stiff muscles and moving it side to side. She couldn't wait to get home and was waiting eagerly for her boss to come in and close everything.

And of course the man himself arrived as if summoned, "Alright everyone, thank you for your extreme hardwork today. Please know that I do appreciate it. And you can now leave and be back home".

All the workers broke into huge smiles as they quickly packed up, almost all of them having done their share.

So nobody, including Ophelia wasted another second as they moved out of their office and started disapparating one by one.

She too followed the others, feeling that sensation of your ears and eyes being pushed back into your skull and your insides twisting uncomfortably.

And with a crack, she had appeared outside her cottage.

Walking up the narrow path, she pulled out her keys and opened the door, inhaling a familiar and intriguing scent of jasmine.

The house was dark as she had expected, with the only lighting being the small lamps in the living room and the burning fireplace. She knew instantly that her husband was awake.

Her footsteps were heard as they padded towards the living room, "Fred?" She said softly after spotting the familiar ginger head sitting on the couch.

"Oh hello," came his reply as he looked up with an adoring grin making her smile. What she didn't expect was a tiny pair to come bounding over with outstretched arms.

"Ted?" Ophelia muttered in disbelief. "What're you doing up, little man?"

But the said little man just giggled in total happiness and jumped up as she picked him and narrowed her eyes in mock anger.

"Well, someone here missed his Mama," Fred chuckled and walked over to the pair, wrapping his arms around the two. "And I must add, I missed you too, love".

"Aww you did," she laughed at her two boys and pressed a kiss to Teddy's forehead who surprisingly looked at his Dada and smirked as though teasing him.

"Who are you teasing?" Fred grumbled and sulked at being jealous of a two year old.

Ophelia just looked amused at their banter, "Ted," she said softly, immediately gaining the boy's attention. "Dada's looking a bit sad isn't he?"

He looked at the man in question and assessed his expression, "Yesh, Dada's sad".

"So should we make him happy?"

"Mhmm".

She grinned and placed a gentle kiss on her husband's cheek, who smiled back tenderly.

"Bed time now?" Fred questioned with a raised eyebrow and sighed in relief when the boy nodded enthusiastically.

"Wanna sleep wiff you!" He exclaimed, his hair color turning back to turquoise.

"Whatever you want, bud. Let's go".

And so the trio slowly walked towards their bedroom, closing the door behind them and quickly making themselves comfortable on the soft mattress.

Ophelia had Teddy in her arms as he straight up refused to be parted with her. His head was placed on her chest and his small fists gripping her shirt as she held him close to her heart.

But that wasn't enough apparently, because he wanted Dada too. And of course Fred obliged, shifting closer and placing his arm protectively over them. "Sleep now yeah".

"Good night sweetheart".

"Night night," Teddy replied adorably making them chuckle and shut his eyes, yawning already.

Ophelia rubbed his back with slow circles, helping him rest faster and soon enough he was snoring softly and exhaling deeply.

"Gave me a hard time that one," Fred whispered after a moment with a small laugh.

"He's repaying you for all those times you trobled your own mother. Just you wait till we have another one," she responded with a twinkle in her eyes.

"He's lucky he's cute," he murmured and smoothed the wild and tousled blue hair.

"That he is," she smiled fondly and turned slightly towards him. "Sorry I got a bit late today, you had to stay up for a long time. I know you were tired".

"Oh come on, love. It's completely fine. I can do it for a day or two, doesn't matter that much. And well the wait was worth it".

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep," he said firmly before leaning over and locking their lips in a passionate kiss, moving in a rhythm that was already well-known to the both of them. He pulled away, a little breathless and smiled that gorgeous smile of his. "I love you, a lot".

"I love you too, Freddie," you replied with a twitch of your own. "So, so much".

[remembertheplunge]

To achieve escape velocity from Presentism

5/29/2024

I have been an attorney for 43 years today. I was sworn in as an attorney in California on May 29, 1981. I was 25 years old, almost 26. 43 years later, I am 68 years old, almost 69. I got on the treadmill this afternoon  at there gym , popped in my ear buds and “Celebration” by Kool and the Gang, 1980, started to play. I began to run the events of the last 43 years through my head. Between the rhythm of my body on the treadmill, the beat and the spirit of the song and my memory parade, my present became fused with the panorama of my past. I had reached solid personal density. 

In the book" Breaking Bread with the Dead” by Alan Jacobs, Mr Jacobs describes the theory of a character, Kurt Mondaugen, in the novel “Gravity’s Rainbow” by Thomas Pynchon. In the novel is a passage in which “Mondaugen’s Law” is described:

“Personal density …is is directly proportional to temporal bandwidth. Temporal Bandwidth is the width of your present, your now…the more you dwell in the past and in the future, the thicker your bandwidth, the more solid your persona.

Mr Jacobs goes on to say at page 23 of “Breaking Bread With The Dead” that “presentism, is being “wholly creatures of this particular intersection of space and time." “To achieve escape velocity from presentism.”  “You have to step out and away and back and forward, and you have to do it regularly.”

I couldn’t believe what I had read. He caught the feel of this huge  book writing, journal experiment and blogging adventure that I have been on now for over three years. Reviewing my 46 years worth of journals has caused me to live both in the present and in the past. It has expanded my being to incorporate and to communicate with the past. It has exploded my presentism. I have said for a long time that it broadens my pallet. Meaning, I now perceive life from the vista and vantage point of spans of time. Not just from the narrow confines of the hurried, worried NOW. A broadened pallet is temporal bandwidth.It is personal density.  

[medea10]

My Review of Tokyo Revengers: Tenjiku-hen

Okay, new season, new characters, new gang, same opening theme song…

Wait, what?! I mean, the graphics are different, but still.

HISTORY: Takemichi. Time travel. 2005 is a cunt year. I’m not going over it again. Here’s season one and here’s season two. Read up.

SEASON THREE: Previously on Tokyo Revengers, Takemichi returned to 2006 after a glimpse of the most depressing future yet. But that’s going to have to wait as a gang he has no recollection of just kicked the ever-loving crap out of him, Chifuyu, and most of his bros. This is Tenjiku. This gang has Tokyo Manji outnumbered. Many of their captains are so soulless that they’ll beat you within an inch of your life. And worst of all, Kisaki has joined this group. Seeing as Kisaki would be so defiant as to go to another gang five seconds after being thrown out of a gang for trying to turn it into a bloated monster, it gets Takemichi thinking. What if Kisaki is also coming from the future like Takemichi?

While we have that to ponder, we see the leader of Tenjiku, Izana popping up around Mikey. Turns out there’s more to these two leaders than you would let on. And finally, Takemichi knows another person in Tenjiku. It’s not one of Kisaki’s cronies, it’s actually a childhood friend. His name is Kakucho. Despite him and Takemichi being old buds, Kakucho is going to remain loyal to Izana and Tenjiku. Although, Kakucho does distrust Kisaki. So, there’s that! Takemichi (despite the promise he made last season) returned to the future to see what he could find out about the Tenjiku gang. This ended badly. Oh sure, he got some info from reformed Cocaine Bear from last season Taiju. But Takemichi and Naoto wound up gunned down by Kisaki, Kakucho, and Izana.

Back in 2006, Takemichi tested if his line to the future is cut off. It is. He shook hands with the young Naoto and no-go, future Naoto is dead. Takemichi’s muttering about the future hit the ears of Hina. Okay, so she knows but will pretend she didn’t hear a thing…for now. And then we learn that Izana is actually Mikey’s half-brother. Mikey’s family tree is fucked up. Add to that, Mikey’s (deceased) older brother Shinichiro was the original leader of Black Dragon. He planned to let Mikey be the leader, but of course he started Tokyo Manji. But then we learn Izana was the 8th generation leader of Black Dragon (the prior leader to Taiju). Okay, my head is spinning with everything happening here.

NEW CHARACTERS: Onto the Tenjiku arc characters. There’s really only two notable new characters here. One more thing, Hulu hasn’t dropped any of these episodes in English so I’m only giving Japanese seiyuus here.

Izana Kurokawa is the leader of Tenjiku. This is a person that up to this point Takemichi knew nothing about. This season, he’ll know it all. First of all, he’s revealed to allegedly be Mikey’s half-brother. Second, he was once the leader of the Black Dragon gang (the gang that was started by Shinichiro and was to be given to Mikey.

And then there’s Kakucho! Kakucho was friends with Takemichi back when they were children. But Kakucho went away. I think he went into a group home because his parents died in some sort of accident. I gathered since the anime really didn’t talk much about Kakucho, but the scar on Kakucho’s face tells a big story. While there, he makes a life-long friendship with Izana.

*Izana is played by Nobunaga Shimazaki (known for Haru on Free!, Yuki on Fruits Basket 2019, Yuno on Black Clover, Eugeo on SAO: Alicization, Sengoku on Horimiya, Shinichi on Parasyte, and Sunakawa on Ore Monogatari)

*Kakucho is played by Seiichirou Yamashita (known for Ishikawa on Horimiya, Raiden on 86, Edward on Black Butler, and Clay on Soul Eater NOT)

SHIPPING PART THREE: This does dip into spoilery territory, so I’ll try to mind my words.

Hina! Yes, Takemichi x Hina is still a thing. They’re cute together. She sees him as a personal hero. And I honestly think that Hina’s love for Takemichi grew when she knew what Takemichi has been doing in terms of leaping through time. There is however one person who has been eyeing Hina for a long time. And that’s Kisaki.

Back in season two, we do get a flashback of Kisaki and Hina together when they saw Takemichi do something impulsive yet heroic. I kinda thought that there might have been something there, Kisaki-wise. Who knew I was going to be right? Hina said some kind words to Kisaki about him being so smart that it reached his cold, calculating heart. Kisaki loves Hina and that’s all I can talk about as I want save it for the finale portion. Let’s talk about another ship.

Koko x Inupi. I wasn’t expecting it. I probably should have since our bro Inupi slays in them heels. I’m just a little confused by it. Koko was in love with Inupi’s older sister and Koko’s crusade of earning more and more money was driven because Inupi’s sister was burned in a house fire. But she dies, Koko still strives for more money, and he kisses Inupi because…??? Dead sis, something…Um, let’s talk about another ship.

Emma x Draken is…oh!

YEAH, THIS PART HURT: Emma’s death. Yeah, just going to come out and say it. She dies.

Now, you would think that Emma dying wasn’t going to cause a ripple. Fuck are you huffing? This ripple caused a major tsunami that shook the foundation of Tokyo Manji to its core. First of all, Emma is Mikey’s little sister. He barely got over his older brother’s death. Second, Emma was Draken’s girlfriend. But then Kisaki came in swinging and knocked Emma off…while Takemichi just stood there.

I saw a lot of comments about this part and a lot of anger towards Takemichi. I am actually going to defend him to an extent. Have you ever been in a situation where you had the opportunity to stop something and you were just frozen in your tracks and couldn’t do anything? It happens! I know he can be impulsive sometimes, but coming from personal experience, I can’t hate on him when this fear hits.

I can however fucking hate Kisaki and Izana. Women are supposed to be off-limits. So, this is the plan Kisaki had to warp Mikey. I hate you.

ENDING: Tokyo Manji vs. Tenjiku. This is not going well for Tokyo Manji. Their fight between Tenjiku did not start well and they are very much outnumbered. Smiley and Mitsuya are out of commission for the big fight as they were taken out prior. Mikey and Draken are not going to come to this fight as…fucking Emma died. Mikey’s sister, Draken’s girlfriend! Mikey is wrecked and Draken hates everything. So, it is up to Takemichi, Angry, Chifuyu, Hakkai, Inupi, and…this one guy I can’t remember his name up against over 300 grunts, 4 angry big boss guys, Koko, Kakucho, that dick-head Kisaki, and Izana.

There were some solid hits from Tokyo Manji. Angry went full “Blue Ogre” mode which somehow surpasses his twin brother Smiley’s wrath. And I’m going to admit this. Up until season three, I didn’t know that Smiley had a twin brother. So, color me surprised when I see the blue-haired wonder show up all of a sudden. Back to the fight, Inupi got into Koko’s mind as we got a backstory involving them. All the while, Takemichi pulls his immovable Homer Simpson spirit during the fight. Even Kisaki shooting him in the foot couldn’t stop him. But you have to admit, these boys are outnumbered and not going to win this fight. IN COMES DRAKEN AND MIKEY!

I knew it was going to happen. Didn’t know how or the provocation, but I saw it coming a mile away. The reason was that Hina let it slip out to both boys that Takemichi has been going back and forth from the future to prevent his friends from dying. Mikey vs. Izana actually lasted a lot longer than the October and Christmas massacres with the main bosses. Mikey’s kicks only worked part of the time against Izana. What Mikey doesn’t know is that Izana learned how to fight from his own older brother Shinichiro.

We get some flashbacks of Izana’s youth (as well as Kakucho). Izana gets the surprise of his life to know that he has an older brother. Shinichiro made a big impact on Izana and was happy any time he came to visit. It wasn’t until Izana was going to get the Black Dragon gang passed down to him that everything changed. Shinichiro just happened to mention having a younger brother and that just didn’t sit right with him. Younger Mikey seemed okay with the idea of having another brother. Izana was not thrilled. Add to that, Izana blames Mikey for Shinichiro’s death. Kazutoro strikes again! Izana ends up suffering a pretty big mental breakdown during this showdown. The other Tenjiku members were in an agreement that Tokyo Manji won and to just back off gracefully. No. That’s not happening. Kisaki goes and does a stupid thing that ends with both Kakucho and Izana getting shot.

WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE TAKE THAT GUN FROM KISAKI?!

Oh, now you’re going to be a punk-ass bitch after shooting Izana and Kakucho. Yeah, they’re dying. We get some more flashbacks including an important fact that you can be both shocked and not surprised at the same time. Say it with me now.

IZANA IS NOT RELATED TO MIKEY, EMMA, AND SHINICHIRO!

Emma’s cunt mother said it to Izana when he ran into her. And then Shinichiro admitted the same. Izana and Kakucho hold each other’s hands as they both die on the ground…or so it seems. More soon! Mikey announces the fight is over and that Tokyo Manji won. Kisaki bails with Hanma. Draken and Takemichi trail this asshole. Once Takemichi caught up to Kisaki, that’s when he learns something important.

Kisaki loves Hina. He’s a strategian by heart and had a 10-year plan to rise the ranks of the gang underworld and to make Hina all his. And during this interaction, Takemichi caught a glimpse of a future moment where Kisaki proposed to Hina and she rejected him like one of those rejection scenes from Tomodachi Life. But one thing Takemichi learned this night with Kisaki was that he was not a time traveler. He’s just bent to the point of wanting to warp Mikey and steal Hina from Takemichi or kill her. And then, things took a turn for the worst…for Kisaki.

These are the following three things that are acceptable to say for this scene: *Truck-kun saved the day *Best re-dramatization of Phil Ken Sebben’s death ever *Australian fatigue driving PSA in a nutshell

Okay, I will also accept the phrase, “Ding-dong, the dick is dead”. I am not going to sit here and feel sorry for Kisaki. He was a smarmy bastard in the past and future. And the shit he did in the past should never absolve him. Emma did nothing wrong. Not a fucking thing! Her only crime is that she shared the same blood as Mikey. I’m sick of getting the sad boo-hoo moments for characters who were maggots through and through. You want people to say nice things in your passing, don’t be a dick-bag while you’re alive!

In this aftermath, there were a total of five arrests and three deaths. The arrests were all the top men from Tenjiku. The deaths were Emma, Izana, and Kisaki. Kakucho survived being shot. He’s got a lot to mull over now that his best friend is dead and the gang is pretty much done. It is unknown about Takemichi and the future as we see him talking to Kakucho in the hospital and he hasn’t stopped trembling after witnessing Kisaki be flattened by a truck. So, we don’t know if Kisaki’s death changed the future for the better or if Takemichi can even go back to the future considering what happened to Naoto.

Okay, I loved this season compared to the Christmas Massacre arc. I just wish the season was an episode or two longer just to fulfill my wants of seeing if the future changed for the better or worse. That last future Takemichi was in had Kisaki and Izana in it, so that must mean Naoto is alive again. I’m going to keep with my thoughts and be a good girl who doesn’t look at manga spoilers. For now! I’m sure there’s gonna be more content in the future. The manga is finished with an astounding 279 chapters and the anime is just under 40 episodes currently. I’m sure there’s more to unfold.

Knowing the setup, I’m pretty sure there’s another gang about to pop up or Hanma is gonna avenge Kisaki or some other drama with Koko and Inupi. Again, I don’t know because I didn’t read the manga. But we still need the conclusion of Hina and if she’s past the point of being saved from a grizzly murder. Kisaki is taken care of, that’s good. I still don’t trust Akkun and he’s still around. Every stinkin’ timeline, he’s the one who does the deed. In the meantime, let’s wait a bit for the next installment. Nothing has been announced as of posting this review, but I’ll remain positive.

Once again, because of Disney+’s acquirement, watching the whole season can be troublesome to those who don’t have a multitude of streaming accounts. Season one can still be found on Crunchyroll. Christmas Massacre and Tenjiku arc will be on Hulu.

[aliensupersyn]

An Ajin Manga Review: Discussing the Art

Part 1: Art Style in Relation to Storytelling

I entered this manga not knowing the first thing about it. I was scrolling through Manga4life after catching up on Hunter x Hunter and came across Ajin on the highest rated filter. I read through the comments and saw the praises for the story. I was collecting a number of different titles to read through and chose Ajin to begin my series of readings.

Why did I choose Ajin as a starter? What stood out to me about Ajin was its art. For many mangaka, the art begins somewhat immature and the artist hones their skills throughout the serialization. For example, there's a noticeable change in Tokyo Ghoul, Bleach, Naruto, HxH, etc. Ajin began with a recognizably polished art style thanks to Gamon Sakurai. The lines were confident and the scenes were already challenging in a way a veteran artist might be expected to execute. I was grabbed immediately!

These two pages are both from the first chapter. Note the details on the folds of clothes, the sneakers, the officer's ear, and his uniform even. I have not come across many manga who's art begins with dramatic detail in the most mundane things such as clothing, at least not in such a way. I'm reminded of how in sports manga, the mangakas take a lot of time to detail a player's shoes, because those have importance to the sport itself.

To clarify, Ajin still went through a maturity in its art. Obviously, there was a change when the original writer Tsuina Miura left. With Sakurai having more control over the story, it's clear his change in story affected the characters and art style as well. For example, Kei Nagai goes from a rounder more doe-like appearance to sharper and straighter lines. His original design fit alongside his character portrayal as an innocent kid unfit for the severity of the story's premise; Kei was perhaps meant to be pitied in the original story.

After Sakurai became the writer, Kei changed into an untrustworthy character who could shift personalities, utilizing both the younger look of the first volume, and the more confident and mature appearance Sakurai had created. Sakurai says that after volume 1, he "tried to move the art gradually closer to [his] own style" (ch.83, pg. 82). I recognize Kei's purposeful tonal changes as a creative method to transition the manga into Sakurai's own style and design changes that he had decided for the story.

Below, this series of pages illustrate first the differences between Kei in volume one and two. Then, the ways Sakurai uses both the softer and sharper designs to convey a transition of his character.

Finally, in chapter seventeen, page seven, Sakurai commits to the shift and reveals this new design and characterization to be the "real" Kei all along. Nakano comes to the same realization as the reader.

Sakurai used Kei's earlier more pitiful appearance to show Kei's softer mask that he wore to hide his true, more cold and calculative nature. After the moment between Nakano and Kei, the later design remains more consistent and total. Personally, I enjoy the later design more than the first and what it implied for the story. Along with a change in Kei's character was a change to the story's tone as well. Sato became more devious, and so did Kei. These character changes, in a way, foreshadowed the extremes in which the plot would take as well.

Though, still I would have enjoyed the closer relationship that was foreshadowed for Kei and Kai. I mean, look at these pages and tell me you don't see a budding homoerotic romance on the rise!

To round out my thoughts, I enjoyed the first premise, but overall enjoyed the second premise even more. In the next review, I'll dissect Sato's character and how he was handled from an authorial point of view. I just needed to discuss the art style change and what it implied for the story, especially Kei, as he plays an important role for the overall tone of the story.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 10, Number 5

Arab Strap

It’s lovely out. The lilacs are in bloom. The weather is warm enough to make a sweater/sweatshirt/coat redundant, and the bugs are swarming happily all over the garden. And yet, here we are, inside, ear buds in place, music on high, because however nice the weather, what if we missed something? What if, you, our readers missed something? Well, fear not, because we’re back with another set of short, impassioned reviews. Scottish lifers obsessed with their phones, South African jazzmen nearly forgotten, mumbling rappers, untethered improvisers—it’s all here for you. What, you were going out? Too nice to stay inside? Well, okay, it’ll be here when you get back.

Contributors include Ian Mathers, Justin Cober-Lake, Ray Garraty, Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell, Christian Carey, Alex Johnson and Jennifer Kelly.

Arab Strap — I'm totally fine with it 👍 don't give a fuck anymore 👍 (Rock Action)

Even more surprising than this Scottish duo’s perversely triumphant return a few years ago is that in 2024 Aidan Moffat is writing more about the internet than about cheating and booze. (He’s still writing about those things too though, don’t worry.) Less shocking is that his laceratingly keen eye is no less effective when turned on his own relationship with his phone, or the way women are treated by the “fathers, husbands, sons and brothers” around them as soon as the deniability of a screen is in place, or the psychology of someone who turns to QAnon. And not just technology; with songs addressing those who’ve never recovered from the early-pandemic hit to their ability to go outside and those capitalism leaves to die in solitude, this might be the least relationship-y Arab Strap LP to date. Malcolm Middleton roughs up their sound again to match the bruised, heartfelt brutality of Moffat’s subject matter and the result is one of the most simultaneously empathetic and unsettling records from a band who’ve never been short on either quality.

Ian Mathers

Bad Nerves — Still Nervous (Suburban)

For their second album Still Nervous, punk rockers Bad Nerves take their ready-made formula and just amp everything up. Everything's loud and fast; the band clearly descends from the Ramones, but they've gone more manic. They secretly mix in flourishes of power pop. Underneath all the ruckus, they have a knack for catchy melodies, guitar solos and even vocal harmonies. Then Bad Nerves rough up the pop elements to make sure their disaffection comes through with enough spite to keep everything properly punk. The record does little to vary mood or tempo, but it doesn't need to. The band does one thing, but they excel at it. The Strokes comparisons the band's received mostly work, but the lo-fi production keeps everything sounding as if it's in an actual garage. “Plastic Rebel” offers a youthful rampage, bubble gummy enough to touch on Cheap Trick, but continually plowing forward. The Essex quintet closes the album with “The Kids Will Never Have Their Say,” an evergreen sentiment for the young and irritable. The point doesn't break new ground, but it's beside the point. Bad Nerves tap into something long running and rush the tradition on with plenty of verve and a hint of bile.

Justin Cober-Lake

Conway the Machine — Slant Face Killah (Drumwork \ EMPIRE)

If it wasn’t for Conway’s name on the copy to the album you’d think this was a long solo producer tapes with 40 guests on it, each mumbling about something nobody’s interested in except for the mumbler himself. It is not an exaggeration: it really lasts more than an hour, has close to 20 guests (depends on how you count) and even though Slant Face Killah is produced by a dozen of people the beats all sound the same. If it already sounds awful even for the diehard Conway fans, grip for the worst part of it. It ain’t even worth the trouble to skip all the tiring guest verses for the Conway verses because they are not good anyway. A total failure.

Ray Garraty

Alex Cunningham — Rivaled (Storm Cellar)

Remember October 2020? The time of still-subdued traffic, no shows and a looming election? Rivaled is an artifact of that moment. Nowadays, Alex Cunningham is an intensely active improviser, based in St. Louis but active all around the middle of the USA. Back then he was stuck at home and moved to make some noise. “Faith” and “Void” offer two paths to obliteration. The former is pretty plugged in, with electronic effects and appropriated radio noise turning Cunningham’s violin into a full-on electrical storm. The latter is unreliant upon electricity, but maybe even more dogged and savage. Originally released as an edition of 20 cassette, Rivaled is now a CD with a bonus remix that mashes both tracks together, both vertically and temporally, like a piggybacked highlights reel. Of noise relaxes you, you’ll want this close at hand when the next election rolls around.

Bill Meyer

Dun-Dun Band — Pita Parka Pt. 1: Xam Egdub (Ansible Editions)

Dun-Dun Band is an all-star cast of characters comprising some of Toronto’s most creative musicians and led by musical polymath Craig Dunsmuir. Dunsmuir is a shape shifter, trading guises and styles for decades: a guitar loop conjuror known as Guitarkestra, a purveyor of mutant disco vibes alongside Sandro Perri in Glissandro 70, a welder of minimalism, dub, and avant-garde weirdness as Kanada 70. His Dun-Dun Band collects members of Eucalyptus and Badge Époque Ensemble along with stalwarts Colin Fisher, Karen Ng, Josh Cole and Ted Crosby. Pita Parka is the group’s debut on vinyl and features three extended cosmic jazz jams that fuse multi-horn interplay to African-inspired polyrhythm. The music slyly winks at 1970s fusion but is more akin to that of modern ensembles such as Natural Information Society. The extended nature of the pieces allows the reedists to stretch their lungs and roam around, and for the rest of the ensemble to engage in creative interplay. Pita Parka is a stellar offering from some of Toronto’s finest players and one of the city’s most inquisitive and inventive minds.

Bryon Hayes

Roby Glod / Christian Ramond / Klaus Kugel—No ToXic (Nemu)

The three participants in this session are all veterans of middle European jazz that’s free in spirit, if not always in form. Bassist Christian Ramond and Klaus Kugel are from Germany, and soprano/alto saxophonist Roby Glod is from Luxembourg; their collective cv includes work with Kenny Wheeler, Ken Vandermark and Michael Formanek. Online evidence suggests that they’ve played together as a trio since 2015, which explains their easy rapport and nuanced interaction, but this is their first CD. Freedom for these folks means having the latitude to linger over a tune or to settle into nuanced timbral exchanges, but if you carded them, they’d all have jazz driver’s licenses. This music swings, often at speed, which is a very important aspect of their shared aesthetic; the excitement often comes from hearing Glod invent intricate, evolving lines that are lifted off by fast walking bass lines and kept in the air with light but insistent cymbal play. While the album is named No ToXic, the sheer pleasure of hearing these guys lock in could truthfully be labeled counter-toxic.

Bill Meyer

Göden — Veil of the Fallen (Svart)

Longtime listeners of death doom will recognize the name Stephen Flam, guitarist and co-founder of storied band Winter whose Into Darkness (1990) concretized the subgenre in the US; the record was great, and still is. For his recent work with Göden, Flam has dubbed himself “Spacewinds,” and his bandmates follow suit, with stage names that are equal parts risible and ridiculously gravid: vocalist Vas Kallas performs as “Nyxta (Goddess of Night)” (those parens seem to be her idea…) and keyboardist Tony Pinnisi appears as “The Prophet of Göden.” Okay. This reviewer’s inexhaustible appetite for Winter’s slim output disposes him to think kindly of Flam, and there’s nothing especially terrible about Veil of the Fallen — but that’s only because there’s nothing all that special about the record. The sound of the title track is appealingly austere, and the NyQuil-chugging riffs of “Death Magus” are sort of fun. But any listeners hoping for flashes of the inimitable, awesome awfulness of Winter would be well advised to recall the meaning of inimitable. Not even Flam, it seems, can provide a convincing replica of those energies and textures.

Jonathan Shaw

Mick Harvey — Five Ways to Say Goodbye (Mute)

Former Birthday Party and Bad Seeds member Mick Harvey looks back at his life on his autumnal new album “Five Ways to Say Goodbye.” Although he contributes only four original songs, his skill as an arranger and interpreter reaches its zenith. Harvey imbues his own and others’ songs with intense emotion that never tips into melodrama or histrionics. Augmenting his acoustic guitar with evocative string arrangements which provide counterpoint and color to his lyrics “When We Were Young and Beautiful” may be the finest song he has written; poetic in structure, elegiac in feeling, Harvey faces his past with dispassionate empathy for lost friends and acceptance of where he is now. His version of David McComb’s “Setting You Free” locates a Faustian menace in the song, using the strings to carry the dynamic thrust and emphasize the turbulent ambivalence of the original. “Like A Hurricane” becomes an intimate, piano ballad. By changing the tense from present to past and stripping the song of its rock roots, Harvey creates an emotional impact missing from Neil Young’s original. On “Demolition” Harvey replaces Ed Kuepper’s funereal drums with an off-kilter drum machine that clatters like an old projector to evokes the disconnections inherent in the lyrics. Harvey’s treatment of songs from The Saints, Lee Hazelwood, Lo Carmen and Marlene Dietrich are beautifully rendered. A wonderful summation of Harvey’s often underrated talent and an album that deserves a wider audience.

Andrew Forell

I Like To Sleep — Bedmonster’s Groove (All Good Clean Records)

This combo from Trondheim, Norway started out bridging the sound worlds of Gary Burton and Sleep. That’s a canny move if you’re looking for relatively untrodden ground, and as it turns out, a successful one. On Bedmonster’s Groove, which is album number four, the trio has dialed back the heaviness; you won’t hear a power chord until the beginning of side two. Instead, they have taken a turn towards experimentation. The microscopic applications of filters and effects give confer a variable glitter to Amund Storløkken Åse’s vibraphone, squeezable padding to Nicolas Leirtrø’s six-string bass, and some texturable variety to Øyvind Leite’s drums, which are all shown to good effect by some lean grooves and uncluttered melodies. Åse has also added some instrumentation; synths flicker and swirl in the empty spaces, and a mellotron heads a deliberate charge towards prog territory.

Bill Meyer

Kriegshög—Love & Revenge (La Vida Es un Mus)

Throughout the long existence of Kriegshög, it’s been customary to identify the band as a d-beat act. Love & Revenge is Kriegshög’s first release since 2019 and only its second LP in their (at least) 16 years of playing in and around Tokyo. Prolific, they ain’t, but the music is always worth waiting for. On this new record, the band rolls back the pace a bit and amps up the crusty, metal textures. Less squall and rampant chaos, more muscle and riffs that roll up in well-worn biker leathers — but all those qualifiers are relative. There’s still a raw edge to the production (if that’s the term we want…); the bass is laced with so much fat crackle that you’ll want to fry it and eat it. Sort of fun that one of the most volatile tunes on Love & Revenge is titled “Serenity.” Make of that what you will, but don’t spend too much time thinking about it. You’ll miss the next couple songs.

Jonathan Shaw

Niels Lyhne Løkkegaard and Quatuor Bozzini — Colliding Bubbles: Surface Tension and Release (Important)

Niels Lyhne Løkkegaard is a composer based in Copenhagen. On his latest EP he joins forces with the premiere Canadian string quartet for new music, Quatuor Bozzini, to create a piece that deals with the perception of bubbles replicating the human experience. In addition to the harmonics played by the strings, the players are required to play harmonicas at the same time. At first blush, this might sound like a gimmick, but the conception of the piece as instability and friction emerging from continuous sound, like bubbles colliding in space and, concurrently, the often tense unpredictability of the human experience, makes these choices instead seem organic and well-considered. As the piece unfolds, the register of the pitch material makes a slow decline from the stratosphere to the ground floor with a simultaneous long decrescendo. The quartet are masterful musicians, unfazed by the challenge of playing long bowings and long-breathed harmonica chords simultaneously. The resulting sound world is shimmering, liquescent, and, surprising in its occasional metaphoric bubbles popping.

Christian Carey

The Ophelias — Ribbon EP (self-released)

Ribbon is stormy, scathing and often quite beautiful. “Soft and Tame,” the EP’s emotional center, is all three. It begins wistfully: easy acoustic guitar strums and Andrea Gutmann Fuentes’ layered violin, nostalgic and close to sweet. Vocalist Spencer Peppet also starts slow, talking us through the aimless sensory motions of missing someone – “the sun on my cheek/as I walk around/I pick up a pear/I put it down/the radio plays a song we loved.” It doesn’t take long, however, for the skies to darken and the scene to become bleaker. By the line “the hollow sound/my jugular makes as it rolls around,” Mic Adams’s foreboding drums and a percussive creep of electric guitar have stalked in. And by the time Peppet has shown us “an overturned bus on the highway,” heard a“tornado warning” and told her subject to “stay the fuck away” for the second time, the band has built to a blown-out, climactic frenzy, the violin finding operatic heights over mammoth cymbal crashes.

In her review of The Ophelias’ last album, Crocus, Jennifer Kelly described Peppet as sounding “like she’s tilting her chin up and squaring her shoulders.” Likewise on Ribbon, where the band seems resigned to but also quite prepared for a fight. If “Soft and Tame” is aimed to knock “love in southern Ohio” down for good, then “Rind,” the final song, may tell us why they’re in the ring at all. At a brief break in the dynamic, flowering arrangement — it could be a particularly bucolic Magnetic Fields instrumental, especially in Gutmann Fuentes’ spry riffs — Peppet bursts out, “There you go!/On tour with my hometown friends/fucking score/they must have all forgotten!/Look back at what I tolerated.” There’s more to the story, but Peppet pulls back from the fray, settling things ominously: “to name it/makes your life/a little complicated.” Whatever “it” is, The Ophelias seem to have landed their punch. I don’t think I’ve heard more cutting, triumphant “Oohs” than those that end the song and Ribbon’s multifaceted fury with it.

Alex Johnson

Paperniks — Oxygen Tank Flipper 7-inch (Market Square)

Jason Henn is a master of catchy psychedelic punk. Honey Radar, his highest profile outfit, has unfurled a constant stream of hook-laden gems for well over a decade. Paperniks is his newest guise, a solo home recording project that amplifies the Guided by Voices meets Syd Barrett vibe of Honey Radar and doses it with nuggets of guitar noise. This tiny slab of wax is the sophomore Paperniks outing, following a single-sided lathe cut that strayed toward the clamorous edge of the octopus’s garden. On display are a pair of tunes that bear a striking resemblance to Honey Radar. “Oxygen Tank Flipper” is a groovy dose of psych replete with a catchy riff and a roller coaster bassline. Handclaps up the catchiness factor, as does Henn’s honey sweet sigh. “Essex Poem Dial” is a punky, garage-inspired tune. Henn’s reverb-soaked vocal hides inside the propulsive guitar chime. A noise interlude leads to a mellow vignette that slowly fades away. Paperniks showcases Henn’s boisterous side, and the music is certainly engaging, so hopefully there are more songs on the way soon.

Bryon Hayes

Ribbon Stage — Hit with the Most (Perennial/K)

Ribbon Stages hits the giddy sweet spot between punk and pop, their raucous guitar-drums-bass racket pounding on sweet, wistful little songs. The mixture varies with some cuts veering into the snaggle-toothed dream pop of, say, the Jeanines, while others rage harder and more dissonantly. “Stone Heart Blue,” the single, pulls the drums way up in the mix and lets distorted guitars and murmured vocals do battle attention behind them. The result is an uncanny balance of urgency, angst and solace, which is exactly what you want from pop-leaning punk. “Hearst” pushes slashing tangling guitar racket up to the foreground, letting a billowing squall spill over crisp drums and shout-sung vocals, while “Sulfate” lets a sighing romantic croon loose over boiling lavas of rock mayhem. Nice.

Jennifer Kelly

Rio Da Yung OG — Rio Circa 2020 (Boyz Ent)

This is exactly what the title says: a compilation of Rio songs stashed on the label’s HDD, no more, no less. No filler but no hits either. The tape has a “Circa 2020” feel to it, reminding us of when Rio did what he wanted with no shades of doom hanging over the songs. It’s unlike the music he wrote after the trial when he knew he had to do some time. There’s a little bit of everything in here: three songs with RMC Mike, two tracks featuring Louie Ray, a song on a Sav beat, a song on an Enrgy beat and a song on a Primo beat. Yet it’s hardly enough to last us until Rio is free.

Ray Garraty

Spirits Rejoice—S-T (Fredriksberg)

Spirits Rejoice! by Spirits Rejoice

A remastered reissue of a 1978 recording, Spirits Rejoice captures boundary-crossing South African jazz scene, which touches on fusion, rock, funk, soul, disco Latin and African sounds. The ensemble includes some of that time and place’s pre-eminent jazz musicians, Sipho Gumede of the fluid, loping bass lines, breezy, insouciant reeds-man Robbie Jansen, South African pioneering percussionist Gilbert Matthews, keyboardist Mervyn Africa and a very young Paul Peterson on electric guitar. The music is ebullient and clearly tilted towards pop accessibility, and the gleaming sheen of 1970s often dilutes its heat and fury. This is especially true on “Happy and in Love” which could double as a lost Earth Wind and Fire cut. Elsewhere, though, as in “Woza Uzo Kudanisa Nathi,” fervid polyrhythms, tight squalls of sax and an exhilarating call and response light up the groove, fusing African chants with a swaggering samba rhythm. And “Papa’s Funk,” is just what it sounds like—a slithery, stuttery, visceral bass-led swagger that bubbles and smolders and twitches in a universal funk.

Jennifer Kelly

Various Artists — GmBH: An Anthology of Music for Fashion Shows 2016 – 2023, Volume 1 (Studio LABOUR)

GmbH: An Anthology of Music for Fashion Shows 2016-2023 Vol. 1 by Various Artists

LABOUR is a multimedia project of Iranian musician Farahnaz Hatam and American percussionist/composer Colin Hacklander. Based in Berlin, the duo has collaborated widely and eclectically to produce soundtracks for sustainable, underground fashion house GmBH. This compilation collates 12 examples and showcases a variety of work from an international roster of artists including Iraqi-British oud player Khyam Allami, Turkish born DJ Nene H, Kuwaiti musician Fatimi Al Qadiri, American performance artist MJ Harper and Indonesian noise duo Gabber Modus Operandi. The thread that runs through all this is cross pollinations between genre, geography, and chronology. Allami’s oud plays against LABOUR’s electronic washes and synthetic percussion with each element emphasizing and interrogating differences in modality and structure. On “White Noise” LABOUR contrast a 16th century harpsichord piece with static and effects dissolving into a robotic club beat which ends up evoking a cyborg Hooked on Classics. Their collaboration with Harper on the spoken word “ablution” is a reflection on love, religion, and abnegation with elements of gospel, eastern and creeping doom ambience. The Anthology has much of interest but is essential for Belgian composer Billy Bultheel’s “YLEM” featuring German countertenor Steve Katona who soars incandescent from a backdrop of industrial grind. The contrast between earthly weight of the music and radiant purity of the voice is breathtaking.

Andrew Forell

Vertonen — taif’ shel (Oxidation)

taif' shel by Vertonen

Give the Oxidation label credit for radical truthfulness. One of the bummers of our time is the frequency with which folks on BandCamp and elsewhere will call a short-run, blue or green-faced disc a CD when they are selling you a CD-R. Oxidation, on the other hand, is named after the process that will eventually render its products unplayable. On to the sounds. Vertonen is Blake Edwards, who has been working around the edges of sound for over 30 years. On taif’ shel, he displays absolute mastery over the combination of collected, electronically generated and carefully edited sounds. His skill rests on three qualities; knowing where to place sounds, knowing how long to let them carry on and having some pretty good ideas about which ones to use in the first place. He can make a drone of infinite (but never unnecessary) complexity, or punctuate flipping film-ends with a precisely situated, never repeated sequence of chops and splices, to name just two examples found on this impermanent but thoroughly rewarding disc.

Bill Meyer

Villagers — That Golden Time (Domino)

That Golden Time is Villagers’ sixth album. The Conor O’Brien led project presents its most eclectic outing to date. A number of the songs are afforded pop treatment, consisting of memorable tunes and gentle, polished arrangements. The double-tracked vocals on “First Responder” is a case in point, about a relationship fragmenting while the singing coalesces, an interesting tension. “No Drama,” initially pared down to piano and O’Brien’s laconic vocals, eventually adds a coterie of Irish traditional instruments. “Keepsake” veers closer to mid-tempo electronica, with overlaid synth repetitions and treated vocals. The title track employs sustained violin lines, played by Peter Broderick, and an intricate form with supple harmonic shifts. “Brother Hen,” on the other hand, recalls the folk influences present from Villagers’ beginning. The diversity is diverting, even though That Golden Time feels like a collection of singles instead of an album statement.

Christian Carey

[virtualcarrot]

[KKIR] Modern AU - Teaching Pains Pt5

Part 4

Prompt 5 : Exes/Memories

.

Iruka's bleary eyed and still half-asleep when a similarly out of it but powering through Kotetsu hooks an arm around the back of his neck.

“Sooo… You and Kakashi-sensei stayed up late together at the gym, uh.”

Iruka doesn't react. In all fairness he's too busy trying to figure whether or not he’ll capitulate to the early hour and abstain from one of the cheap donuts on the counter. On the one hand, he’s vaguely queasy. On the other hand, it’s free food, and also sugar, which should give him the necessary boost of energy to hang on until his brain gets fully online.

Before he can decide, Anko makes a grand entrance, her drill sergeant voice announcing her arrival. “All right, losers! The bake sale's ready and the Headmaster's office’s shut off from the public. Y’all ready to be productive members of society or are you gonna keep mooching off our hard work?”

With a coffee in hand and a coworker hanging off his shoulders, Iruka blinks back slowly. He barely registers Kotetsu hiding his face in his shoulder with a groan.

Ignoring them for the coat rack, Mizuki hangs his bag with a huff.

Anko meets Iruka's eyes and grins toothily. “Why, hello lover boy,” she drawls. “Have fun yesterday?”

Iruka pulls a face. “It's not like that and you know it.”

“Oh, do I?”

Faced with her too sharp eyes and growing all too aware of Mizuki's presence, he hides in his drink. “We were sparring,” he mutters into the mug.

“What was that?”

“We were sparring.”

Kotetsu releases him with a snort of laughter. “Is that what the kids call it, now?”

Sometimes, being on friendly terms with your coworkers is a curse.

“I assume most kids aren’t familiar with kumite, so I’d say: yes,” Iruka retorts curtly.

He doesn’t really like bringing up martial arts around Mizuki. There are old wounds they’ve rebuilt their friendship around that still remain tender. But he can’t let this sort of insinuation go unanswered either. It’s unprofessional, for starters, and also he could really, really do without the risk it might reach Kakashi’s ears if Iruka doesn’t nip it in the bud.

Much to his relief, Mizuki doesn’t sour at the topic. He draws closer instead, eyeing Iruka up and down the way he used to when they were kids and he was looking for injuries. “Are you alright?”

Iruka ducks his head. “Yeah, don’t worry. He went easy on me.”

He pauses, remembering his surprise of the previous evening, the warm feeling of making a pleasant, unexpected discovery.

“He’s actually really good, uh,” he adds, somewhat breathily.

Ever the realist, Mizuki gives him a little smile. “It’s more likely that you’re too out of practice,” he says gently, which Iruka can’t really dispute. “But it’s good that you had fun.”

Then, because they’re not actually paid to gossip, they all leave the teachers’ lounge and go open the school to the public. Mizuki falls into step with him while he goes to round the last arrived volunteer students--for a value of volunteer where Iruka just ended up conscripting additional kids until they had enough people.

That Naruto didn't put up more of a fight feels like an admirable growth of his character, truthfully.

“You should be careful,” Mizuki says, breaking the companionable silence.

In the process of a mental review of the performances and workshops they've got planned for the next day, Iruka has trouble following the non sequitur.

“What?”

“Kakashi-sensei. You had a tense relationship, and he's been mellowing to you--which is great. But it wouldn't do for people to think it's in return for… services. Or that you'd compromise your students for that.” At Iruka's stricken look, he waves a hand in the air with a rueful smile. “Don’t worry, I don't think that. But you know how tongues wag.”

Which is of course the moment Iruka’s phone chooses to chime with a new text. Any cheer he might have derived from Kakashi asking about his morning freezes over. He hastily shoves his phone back into his pocket. Mizuki gives him a pointed, knowing look but is kind enough not to comment.

Thankfully, Iruka doesn't have time to ruminate. Visitors may be slow on the first hours of open day but that's all the better to ready them for the later inpouring. Future students, their parents and concerned family members number that crowd, along with the visiting families of their current ones; the true bulk of it, though, are the random bystanders excited for the free spectacle Ebisu sets up with the kids every year. If only for Sasuke, Lee, Tenten and Neji’s feats of gymnastics and martial arts, the trip is worth it.

By the time the rush fully starts, Iruka has already broken two fights between Ino and Sakura, yelled Shikamaru awake from a nap, reminded Chōji that the cakes from the bake sale are for sale, and stepped in to support Hinata before she passed out at the prospect of talking to a group of total strangers asking for her opinion on the school curriculum.

After which lunch-time arrives.

He distributes the complimentary sandwiches the school provides their little volunteers--but not the teachers--and then takes a very hypocritically cake-filled break in guise of a meal. It's more sugar than he enjoys, but he didn't have time to cook the evening before and knows from experience that the local shops will be crowded from their own visitors looking for something to eat.

Somewhere past two in the afternoon, Kakashi shows up with takeout coffee from Iruka's favorite place. Iruka's never resented someone more for making him like them.

“Isn’t today a university day?” he asks, washing the lingering sweetness from his mouth with a blessedly dark roast.

It's a bit rude, by way of greetings, but Kakashi doesn't take offense. If anything, his eye curves in that congenial arch like Iruka's just the most entertaining thing he's been given to see.

“Had two free hours ahead, thought I'd check how it's going,” he replies, with the sort of nonchalance that tells Iruka those hours were probably not supposed to be nearly this idle.

“Office hours?” he can't help but ask, trying to ignore Suzume adjusting her glasses at them a few classrooms over.

Unperturbed, Kakashi chuckles. “Office hours,” he confirms with an expectant smirk.

But Iruka doesn't segue into his usual rant about responsibility and student needs. Leading a group of wide eyed pre-teens and their flustered parents across the hallway, Kotetsu's just sent a thumbs up behind his back and with it, made his spine freeze.

He doesn’t have time to linger anyway. The gymnastics performance is drawing near, which means it’s almost time to begin corralling the interested visitors towards the gymnasium that a not insignificant proportion of them won’t fail to miss, and that’s in spite of Izumo’s indications on the PA system and the many printed signs they’ve tacked all over the school in preparation.

To top it all, Iruka hasn't seen Naruto in a while which never bodes well.

He heaves a sigh at the thought. “Sorry, Kakashi-sensei, I’ve got to get back to it. Really appreciate the coffee, though.”

Kakashi takes one look at the milling visitors and nods. “Sure. Don’t let me keep you. And good luck.”

It takes all of Iruka’s willpower not to smile in thanks, lest he look too familiar, though he doesn’t get long to brood over it. He’s barely walked past one classroom that he's caught by a family of four asking about the facilities and the disciplines taught and whether there’s a waiting list they might sign on to make sure their daughter of six years old gets in when she’s of age. He wants to sympathize with wanting to do good by one’s child, but his experience teaching the kids of such parents, pressured towards performance like the adults around them think they’re coal they might compress into diamonds, makes him deeply skeptical. And anyway, there’s no such thing as a waiting list, which he tells them, before directing them to a few booklets in the library and drafting Sakura to lead them there and answer any further questions.

Finally free, he slips away.

The good thing about having been a troublemaker in this very school, is that Iruka’s well versed in its real estate of hiding places. The downside is, he’s grown complacent in updating that knowledge.

By the time he’s about to give up and rejoin the event, Iruka’s no closer to finding Naruto. At this point, he has half a thought that Naruto should hope he doesn’t find him, because he won’t make any promises as to the kid’s life expectancy once Iruka gets his hands on him.

Fate must really be conspiring against Naruto, then, because Iruka’s doing his last check in the remote corridor leading to the Headmaster’s office when he catches sight of a blue and orange sleeve hiding behind a cabinet with pictures and diplomas of former headmasters.

He sneaks closer for greater impact when he yells.

“Naruto!”

The resulting screech of horror is deafening.

Sitting on the floor with one hand clutched to his heart and his bag at his feet, Naruto laughs nervously. “Aaah, Iruka-sensei, you found me,” he says, rubbing the back of his head.

Iruka gives him the sort of even look that Naruto should know means this situation can go either way, and it’s all up to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

Naruto looks away with the jitters of someone readying a lie, and a bad one at that. Iruka crosses his arms sternly to dissuade him.

It’s enough that Naruto slumps, sullen, and draws his knees to his chest. “It’s just… There are a lot of people.”

“Ah?”

“Lots of… families…”

“Ah.”

Iruka steps around him and the cabinet, and slides down the wall until he meets Naruto on the floor.

“Can’t be easy,” he says casually, looking at the faded paint of the wall across.

“It’s fine,” Naruto mutters to his knees.

Iruka nudges his shoulder and doesn’t say anything. He remembers when he lost his parents, how it was to be young and alone and counting only on himself. Sometimes, a mere presence was enough to help. That, and warm food, which is his usual approach, but he doesn’t have any to offer Naruto at the moment. He makes a note to take him out for ramen sometime soon.

On the loudspeakers, Izumo informs them that the first performance of the afternoon will start in five minutes.

“Hey, Iruka-sensei?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’ll pass this grade?”

Truthfully, the question is one Iruka has been pondering himself. While Kakashi’s tutoring has noticeably improved Naruto’s grades in physics and chemistry, and given him confidence to tackle the other disciplines he had given up on, he still has a long way to go.

Iruka sighs. “I don’t know, Naruto,” he answers honestly.

Naruto hugs his legs tighter. “I’m not stupid, you know? It’s just difficult. But I’m really trying my hardest.”

“I’ve never doubted that,” Iruka says, because it’s true. He’s watched Naruto sit hours long in front of his textbooks, hair in even greater disarray than usual as he pulled it every which way in frustration. Truthfully, Iruka sometimes suspects part of his learning difficulties might be closer to disabilities, but he’s been having trouble communicating it to the head of the orphanage, who’s a bit too convinced that Naruto’s just acting out in a bid for attention--which he is--and would by extension benefit from being ignored so as not to reward his behavior--which he doesn’t.

Daikoku isn’t a bad man, but if anything Naruto’s been a harsh lesson to Iruka on the limits of his good intentions.

“I don’t want to repeat the year,” Naruto admits in a small voice.

And Iruka gets why. Kakashi’s guidance isn’t the only reason worth crediting for Naruto’s improvement these last months. Working in a smaller group, out of the more merciless dynamic of a full classroom, has finally given him an opportunity to bond with his classmates. He has friends now. And a rival. Which is kind of a friend, Iruka thinks.

He ruffles Naruto’s hair affectionately.

“Then let’s keep working hard to make sure you don’t, eh?” he says. “Come on, let’s go. Ebisu-sensei’s going to lose his mind if he’s missing one of his stars when the show starts.”

Naruto seems only slightly mollified, but that’s to be expected. Some things take time.

He does get up after Iruka, who counts it as a small victory.

~

Part 6

@kakairu-rocks (I'll finish the fic past the official allotted time of the event but at least these fills will have been posted on time)

[imdoingsortagay]

Alright, alright! I’ve been wanting to send you a request but couldn’t come up with anything until now so hear me out…

Agatha making reader hump/grind against something while she watches- a pillow, Agatha’s thigh, whatever- so they can be allowed to cum. But Agatha keeps making comments and saying shit that make reader laugh despite themselves and they loose momentum- over and over again. And they are INSANELY frustrated because they are essentially being edged but are still laughing because, well, Agatha’s infuriatingly funny! And make no mistake- reader is PISSED. (Think like when someone is tickling you but you’re angry/not in the mood but you still can’t help but laugh). So really reader is just suffering this new form of goofy ahh edging while Agatha’s being an evil pos >:3 Sort of fluffy and smutty ig lmao 😭

smut below the cut 18+ ni minors below

warnings: thigh riding, Mommy!Agatha

" Someone like their mommy watching be naughty," Agatha says as she kisses your neck.

" like when you watch," you moan out, happy for the relief she gave you after an especially busy day helping your girlfriend with her errands around town. She had also been in a silly mood, pulling all sorts of jokes out of her that you didn't think she had in her.

So many dirty jokes that she'd whisper in your ear which made you both giggle with delight but also made you wet at the same time while Agatha smiled like nothing happened.

The moment that both of you got back home, Agatha used her magic to bring the both of you into your shared room, wasting no time in getting naked before Agatha pulls you a heated kiss.

" If you don't cum right now bunny, Mommy will treat you like the sweet princess you are,".

" mommy being with you is like gardening outside," she tells you as you slowly start grinding, confused as to where she's going with her little comment.

" I'm getting down and dirty with my hoes," she tells you before you start to giggle a bit at her joke. You aren't the bit surprised that she was in a silly mood but what you did not think she'd do is bring it into sex.

" Mommy stop," you whine as Agatha helps you grind on her thigh," I'm so wet".

" Well i wanna tell my bunny some jokes," she tells you," like you wanna know what's better than a cold bud bunny?"

" What Mommy?" you whine in frustration but humor her either way to prevent she doesn't punish you.

" A warm bush" She tells you before sucking on your left nipples, stopping when you laugh a bit at her joke. This continues for the rest of the night until Agatha feels bad for you and helps you cum with the help of her magic.

Being the wonderful girlfriend that she is, Agatha doesn't fail at praising you as she helps you clean up, being the best mommy ever as per usual.

" My cute bunny," she praises as she gets back in bed with you while you lay next to her in silence.

" What did you think of my jokes bunny?" She asks you and pulls you into her arms to cuddle.

All you can do it nom on her shoulder after she asks you the question, a little annoyed that she wanted a review on the jokes she told you while all you wanted to do was cum.

" Bunny!" she yelps.

" That was for the jokes when i wanted to cum aggie," you tell you while she laughs at your antics. Agatha had told you many times about stuff like this but you didn't think she'd do it at your horniest.

" What if i wanted a review of my jokes honey?," she asks you in the sweetest tones that never fails on you," i just want to know i made my bunny even laugh a bit".

" The jokes were a 7/10 baby".

" THAT"S IT BUNNY ??? FOR MY JOKES??"

" if you would have let me cum sooner after the 6th jokes it would have been higher," you explain before she lightly slaps your arm and the two of you go to sleep in each others arms.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 2

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes

Synopsis:  When falling in love is the easy part where does the difficulty lie? In a society where we're defined by our job, it's those little details as a relationship goes on that ends up setting a course for whether or not a couple can make it in the long run.

Also available on Ao3

First

You stare up at the imposing structure of a skyscraper much like the one you work at. If you hadn’t just walked to this one you might have even thought you’d never left work at all. This had been your first perplexing halt. The second came as the building  appeared to have no storefronts around its base. There was just the shiny gleam of a half dozen glass doors and the stark interior of yet another standard lobby. Frowning, you dug through your bag for your device.

You: Hey, it’s Y/N. I’m going to assume you didn’t give multiple people your number and that you do in fact want my name.

It was the text you had sent him after work the day prior. Instead of responding, Donatello had simply applied a check mark emoji to your message and then sent the address for the next shop. Opening the follow through link to a map app, it indeed read that you were in the right place and just needed to scale a multitude of floors to complete your journey.

The only thing was, that simply didn’t make sense.

With the amount of suits funneling through the doors it seemed unlikely that this was a mixed used property. Tapping your phone screen several times, you brought up the shop’s information panel. There wasn’t even a single image or review uploaded along with the notation. Frowning, you wondered how Donatello would handle it if you questioned his accuracy. He seemed like the kind to take particular care in being right. Hovering a thumb over the shop’s entry, you debated.

“Odd, isn’t it?”

You jolted as the voice came directly by your left ear. Swinging with your device as a mock weapon, you watched as Donatello straightened up.

“Yeah, that’s one word for it!” Finding him not to be a threat, you rubbed the side of your head in an attempt to shake off the tingles.  

Instead of evaluating you, he turned and sized up the building. “Their SEO is atrocious.”

“That’s not-!” You started and then stopped along with lowering your limb. He surely knew what you meant and cooing into your ear was probably his odd way of flirting.

Your mind ground to a halt at the thought.

Was that what he was doing?

“Pathetic to be satisfied with nothing more than a trapped clientele.”

You gave him a curious look. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something that was worded a little strange, but you also barely knew him. Since you had been granted an extension on your budding affection, you’d decided to make the most of it. Resisting the urge to text him had been tough enough, but at least the time between stints had been short. “There’s really a restaurant here?”

That wasn’t exactly questioning his authority.

“Word of mouth.” He responded simply and started his trek. You chased after his coat’s swinging edge and admired today’s outfit from the back. It was similar to the previous one in shade, but he now donned a mock necked zipper henley beneath what had to be different piece of luxe outwear. His sleek boots made little noise amongst the rummaging throng of lunchtime workers. 

“That didn’t answer my question!” You called, making a few longer strides to catch up to his side.

He passed you a glance as you both reached the door. With a longer reach, he caught the handle and you watched with wide eyes as he opened it for you. Maybe yesterday you just hadn’t given him a chance to be chivalrous. Passing him an appreciative bob, you slipped inside. The quiet contrast of the lobby sank in. His boots now clicked with purpose and you rolled your eyes as you again had to scamper after him. You couldn’t help but catch the look the receptionist gave you as you passed. The concept had already been strange enough that you hadn’t taken the time to consider that you might not have access to this mysterious place.

“Uh-, Don-”

“At my 9th study, I heard two patrons discuss this location.”

You almost ran into him as he came to an abrupt stop at the elevators. Adjusting yourself, you got caught between smiling at his languid response time and mild embarrassment at your fumble. He seemed disinterested in the latter so you looked ahead to see if he had pressed the button. It was already lit so you craned your neck to see beyond your companion and found an annoyed businessman tapping his toe in wait. The man’s expression was already sour, but something about the way he glared at you for looking his way reminded you of the receptionist. “Are we supposed to be here?”

“What do you mean?” Donatello’s eyes were fixed squarely on the elevator’s display panel which read over 10 floors away.

“I mean…” You tucked yourself closer to Donatello’s side in an attempt to both shield yourself the other man’s annoyed aura and to keep the conversation for interested party’s ears only. “This isn’t like an exclusive dining room, right?”

Catching your little shuffle and hushed tone, Donatello swooped his gaze over you and then to the other man. With his head swiveled away you couldn’t see his expression, but you did watch as the other man suddenly snapped to attention and turned away with a cough. Your lids came down in slight curiosity as Donatello’s attention returned to the elevator panel. You studied his side profile until you saw the exact moment the muscle in his jaw tightened as he was about to speak.

“No security at the door, no keypad access to the elevators, and no check-in with the receptionist.”

You glanced to the front of the building. Everything he said was undeniably true, but something still felt off.

“It’s also publicly listed regardless of how terrible their online presence is.”

You slowly brought your gaze back and thought it over. The elevator arrived before you could come to a conclusion. You started to step forward when you realized Donatello hadn’t moved. You paused your foot’s journey and watched as the door opened. Several people got off and as soon as they were clear, Donatello moved to board. You followed, but just before breaching the threshold you caught a glimpse of the businessman from earlier who this time paled as you caught eyes.

“I-I’ll take the n-next one.” He stuttered out and glued his eyes to the floor.

What had Donatello done to the man?

You immediately swiveled your head to the mutant to find him punching in the number 27 on the panel. He then moved to stand with his hands tucked behind his back in the center of the elevator. You were about to ask when you noticed one of the corners of his mouth upturned slightly. It was the closest thing to happiness you’d seen him display, but your heart was caught in its excitement by what seemed to be the knowledge of its source.

What a menace he was.

The elevator doors closed and you leaned against the wall beside the panel.

You weren’t exactly sure what to think of his oddities, though you were still undoubtedly interested.

“Do you think I’d steer you wrong?”

You didn’t move, but his sudden question jarred you. You hadn’t expected him to lob you one, so you bided your time checking the floor counter before turning your attention to him.

“Well I would hope you wouldn’t kill me in a place this public.”

Though he also didn’t move, there was something in the way he brought his eye to you that felt like you’d surprised him. His mouth had flattened out, but it opened with intrigue.

“Was that a concern?”

You blew out so hard that a minor raspberry rumbled on your lips. “In this city? Heck! In this world? You always have to play that game with new people to make sure they aren’t serial killers!”   

“I’ll keep a better eye on you then.”

You laughed and the elevator chimed its arrival. Before the doors could open, you pushed off the wall and leapt forward. You watched one of Donnie’s brows raise in incremental curiosity as you planted yourself firmly facing him and away from the grand reveal. “For the record…” You trailed off and listened as the metal split behind you. “I don’t think you’d steer me wrong, but that doesn’t mean I won’t still worry!”

With your point made, you did a little hop to see what the 27th floor looked like. There was a small landing and the walls continued the same sterile motif from the lobby. Beyond that there were a set of two clear glass doors that revealed a dining room that disappeared out of sight on the right and an odd test kitchen sort of set-up to the left.

“Woah…”

You felt a hand press against your mid back just as the elevator doors began to close due to inactivity. You stepped forward and mourned the loss of touch as you made it onto the landing.

Donatello clicked his tongue and for a moment you thought he could read your thoughts. A defense was on your lips about your fleeting feelings when he spoke something else more to himself. “Asinine waste to not market this.”

You wanted to laugh again, but you bit your bottom lip and scrunched up your face to keep it in. He was really hung up on their e-commerce.

“Is that what you do?”

Since you were a step ahead, you caught a door handle and held it for him.

He eyed you as he passed. “No.”

You gave an interested hum as he evaluated the space. You ignored the actual counter in favor of gawking at the dining room. From the sliver you had seen before, it stretched even further out of sight and presumably all the way around the floor. Various tables, chairs, pergolas, and plants filled out the space, but left the grand view of the blue sky outside stretched unobstructed. For each wooden structure, there was a fan turning on a lazy setting to keep what could have been a greenhouse effect at bay.

With your head coming back from reviewing the display, you found Donatello watching you with his head tipped ever so slightly to the side. You could feel the fondness in your expression grow as you wondered if he had been watching your excitement. He was as nonplussed as ever, but knelt down incrementally and you leaned is as he seemed to want to discuss something.

“There’s a cashier at the far end.” He pointed and you finally took in the kitchen portion of the restaurant. A long stretch of various foods were laid out buffet style with a divider thrown up to separate the open kitchen. There was a single break between the glass panes that seemed to be a place where you could order something that wasn’t readily available on a hot or cold bar presentation. “You get a tray and we’ll meet there.”

From the looks of it, there only seemed to be cold slider style sandwiches laid out in a pallet. “Think we can order our clubs from the window?”

His head turned to you a little bit more and his chin was tipped up. Though you had only seen it once before, you had a feeling it had something to do with appreciation. “If not, we’re wasting our time.”

“This was definitely not a waste.” You threw an arm out to the room in demonstration, but found you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his.

A slow blink passed between you both before he finally moved away. Your racing heart beat only became apparent when he parted though you had a feeling it had started up long ago.

“I’ll see to the order and you scout the other offerings.”

“Sounds good.” You gave a nod and he moved straight for the kitchen window. You glanced over the cashier who was absorbed into a novel she had propped against the register. Gathering a tray, you used it as a sort of partition as you slowly looked over the bars. It had a standard fair of salad building blocks, fresh cut fruit, and grab-and-go lunches. On either side of Donatello sat a few heat lamps with side dishes and a variety of beverages. Suddenly hyper aware that you had no idea what your companion liked, you reminisced on the feeling from the day prior. There was so much to learn. It felt as daunting as the choices laid out.

Sneaking a peek at Donatello, you watched as he conversed with someone on the other side. The tone sounded genial and a satisfied smile graced your lips. You were glad he could continue his conquest, but that didn’t help your task at hand. Shooing the happiness away, you furrowed your brow. Going off what little you knew about the staunch man, you bypassed the fruit as no matter how bright it looked, it was all definitely out of season. Salad seemed like a pass as it felt more like a counterpart as opposed to a companion to sandwiches. Something about that thought sparked something another, thankfully.

Turning, you moved to where some whole fruit and prepackaged snacks that required only ambient temperature were stacked. You stared at a menagerie of chips and felt flicker of pride in your chest. You had a feeling that this was some kind of test. It didn’t feel malicious, but it fell in line with his methodical sandwich choices. It all lie in if you had correctly identified that chin move as appreciation. If that were the case then him allowing you to chose an accompaniment meant he had some sort of value in your culinary decisions.

You were definitely over thinking this.   

Still, it was a fun game. Ignoring the typical name brands, you perused a set of locally made kettle chips. Anything too potent would skew the sandwich evaluation so you knocked those competitors out of the ring. It left only variations of salt which at first glance seemed like the safe choice. Chuckling to yourself you tried to imagine how his computer would process the data. He probably went through whatever you were going through but charged up to some astronomical degree. There was no way a man who was trying his 13th sandwich shop would do any less. Pinching two bags together by their top corners, you hoisted them onto a tray and went to join Donatello.

He was standing off to the side waiting with a slip of paper clutched prominently in one hand. The way his eyes went right to your tray said all you needed to know about how he’d considered the endeavor.

“Sea salt and cracked pepper.”

You waited for his eyes to flick up to yours. You gleaned nothing else until that moment finally happened. When it did you were ready, you said your prepared line. “A little extra seasoning, so to speak.”

He made a clear sound of acceptance before his chin tipped up and then down into a nod.

He then turned into the motion and headed towards the cashier. You were able to keep a lid on your delight until his back was to you and you nearly skipped after his form. It wasn’t conclusive, but whatever it was still sent your heart aflutter. He paid and when you stepped up to the cashier next you watched the woman go back to her novel. Waiting further, you blinked as Donatello headed towards the dining room. The woman didn’t part you a glance.

“He got you.”

“He what?” You wondered aloud and she must have heard the rhetorical note to it because she simply turned the page in response. You frowned and tightened your grip on the tray. “Hey!”

From several lengths away, Donatello was evaluating which table would be best.

Cheeks taunt with irritation, you brushed passed him and plopped down at a table perfectly shaded by a monstrous plant and just outside of the gusty radius of a nearby fan.

“You paid for me.” You ground out as he sat across from you.

“I did.” He responded simply and picked up a bag of chips. “You forgot napkins.” He added before plopping down a few onto the tray in demonstration.

You pouted at them and watched as he turned the package over to read the back. It was clear he’d dropped the conversation and you could have just enjoyed his contribution, but you were seized with obligation. “I’ll get the next one.”

“If you want.” He set the bag down. “They’ll bring out the food when it’s ready.”

You gave a curt nod.

“What flavor do you actually get?”

“What?” You momentarily surfaced from your sulk.

Instead of repeating himself, he gave a single finger tap to the chips.

You stared at the bag with growing wonder before turning an accusatory glare on him.

He cocked his head the slightest degree.

“How’d you know?”

“I didn’t.”

“But you asked.”

“I did.”

You frowned and the corner of his mouth upturned in a tempered version of when he scared the man outside the elevator. Your jerk senses were tingling, but there was an infuriating beguiling quality to it. Probably because he was right; this wasn’t what you would normally choose in normal circumstances.

He certainly was far from average.

“It depends on my mood, but if the sandwich is gonna be more on the plain side then I get a more potent chip.”

He gave a single nod.

“How was my choice?” You absolutely wanted to know.

He opened his mouth, but another voice came out.

“Here we are!”

You startled at the sudden approach of an aproned man, but Donatello simply straightened. The man set down a tray with two sandwiches and Donatello parted the man a thank you as he left. You made room on your tray as your companion placed a plate onto it before setting up his own arrangement. You watched him take the same care as to where to pick his club up from. Shaking your head at his absurdity, you grabbed your sandwich and bit right in. They had added an herbed blend or perfumed their oil. You thought it over in way you might not have if it weren’t for your opposite.

You continued to eat, popping your chip bag open about halfway through and considered the flavors. The calm of the moment swallowed you up until Donatello finally spoke.

“Not bad.”

You looked up to find his finger still pinched from where there was presumably a chip.

“You’re just saying that.”

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite read, but there was an air of disdain to his slightly arched brow.

You suppose he hadn’t minced words before this point.

“The pepper offsets the aromatic quality.” He lifted the bread off the uneaten half of his sandwich in examination

“I couldn’t have known about that…” You responded with a heavier quality to your voice than you hoped. You weren’t actually upset about something as silly as potato chip choices, but you had been betting on a solid win which felt stripped from you.

“Don’t point out a flaw the other party hasn’t caught on to. It shows your hand.”

You brought a questioning gaze to him and found him staring back flatly.

“You think I knew…?”

“No, but you could have made an educated guess.”

You broke eye contact to glance at your surroundings. Though it were smack dab in the middle of a trade building, the ambience had an upscale quality. You almost wished you knew how much the meal cost though you wouldn’t have been able to take it into account as you’d already made your choice by then. Something about the whole thing seemed planned all along. 

“What do you do?” You adjusted how you sat in your chair.

“Freelance.” There wasn’t a single moment of hesitation.

That was unusual.

You gave him another incredulous look that he pointed ignored by popping another chip in his mouth.

“Broad and vague.” You noted, doing the same.

You swore you heard another of those plausive hums, but between chews you couldn’t be sure.

“So serial killer is still on the table.” You crunched down on another chip and heard what you thought was a snort. Your eyes flew to him instantly, but found only composed stoicism there. “Did I just get you?”

He gave you that look again.

He was never going to tell.

Unfortunately for him, that in and of itself was quite telling.

You let out a little bit of laughter and shook your head. “You’re something, you know that?”

“’Broad and vague.’” He quoted with an almost amused air.

Something you’d said so candidly got a positive response. Internally you rode the high, but externally you only showed how pleased you were with a grin. “Actually, it’s a turn a phrase.”

“The intent of which changes upon inflection.”

“How did mine sound?” You put your elbows to the table and placed your chin upon your hands in a show of awaiting his response.

He looked back to his meal and lifted the last bit of his sandwich. “You’re so busy pining that it’s hard to see past that.”

You had the urge to duck against that return shot. He had a certain command for conversation even if he seemed to be in a perpetual state of not wanting to be in one.

“That obvious?” You gave a little wince.

You received that patented look for the third time.

It was unmistakable now.

The epitome crossroads between ‘you already know the answer’ and ‘I’m not going to dignify that with a response.’

At least he was aware of your intentions.

That thought had you faltering in your posing. Head now below your hands you were slow to raise back up.

What were those exactly?

Hadn’t this been a fun little crush accommodation?

Your face felt hot, but you weren’t sure it read blush.

Finally heaving your chin onto your hands, you watched as Donatello tidied up his mess. He’d already finished his meal and you weren’t sure what this whole meeting had really gotten you.

“Did you pacify your boss?”

You were thankful for the perch that allowed you to loll your head. “No way, I just don’t care today.”

“You must not be since you’re already later than yesterday.”

“Am I?” There still was a quality of fear to your voice that couldn’t been quelled. When it hit your ears you gave a synthetic laugh in a pathetic attempt to dispel it.

He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off for a fear you couldn’t quite place.

“Do you like eggs?”

His mouth closed and he just openly stared.

You did so back with what you assumed was the same amount of tempered confusion.

The old saying of every step being one in the right direction sure didn’t account for your mouth.

“It depends.” He responded after what seemed like an eternity passed.

At least you’d had time to fill your treacherous mouth enough to finish your meal.

“On what?” You mumbled through a napkin.

“Time of day and mood, I suppose. I’ve never thought about it in exact terms.”

“Are there any egg dishes you like?”

He leaned back in his chair.

With all your trash squared away on a tray, you gave him a sympathetic smile. “It seems odd.”

He gave a single knowing nod of agreement.

“You were so upset by the thought of them being in a club the other day I thought I’d ask.”

His shoulders seized in the smallest way. It was a telltale sign of his displeasure with the matter. “They aren’t a component.”

His tone was so dark you’d think he was talking about something pure evil.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

His displeasure must have continued because he stood to take his tray.

“W-wait, wait!” You got out between chuckles.

He waited beside his seat and looked down his snout at you.

“We can table the egg thing, how was the sandwich?” You hustled to grab your belongings.

 “A solid choice, but not what I’m looking for.”

“It was like real shaved turkey, but the add-ons made it too deluxe!”

He waited until you joined him to move to the designated dump area. “I appreciate how it showcased the ingredients, but they also can speak for themselves.”

“You’re looking for a mom and pop shop kinda meal…” You nodded to yourself as you dumped your trash.

He seemed to be looking elsewhere. You watched him curiously as he was trapped within his thoughts. You reached out unconsciously to rouse him and he flinched away when you got within centimeters of his coat. With your hand still outstretched you gave an apologetic frown. His eyes flicked from your appendage to your face before he moved to the door.

He held it for you, but the atmosphere had changed in a way that words didn’t feel could penetrate. Hearing the door close as he followed you into the lobby, you moved to press the down button. You both stood, staring at the elevator screen as one unit moved down and the other up.

“If inclined I enjoy a plain omelet on occasion.” 

You brought your head up a little higher before turning it on him.

“It’s something I make myself to ensure it’s cooked to my specifications.”

“Are…” You tapered off and watched him to see if a follow-up question were appropriate. Instead of his usual parted gaze, he brought it to you and seemed to wait. Something about the act made your chest tighten. “Are you a good cook?”

“To an extent.” His eyes shot to the corner as he presumably considered his catalog. “I make what I like.”

“I get that.” You stuffed your hands into your coat as an elevator arrived.

“What about you?” He asked only in passing as soon as the doors opened. 

“Am I a good cook or do I like eggs?” You snickered and joined him.

You pressed the ground floor button as he hadn’t yet and when your attention returned to him, your heart nearly stopped. Though it were still tucked under that same stoicism, there was the ajar door quality to the curiosity on his face. You were beyond elated with a torn undercurrent. If he really were letting his real emotions slip through then this was a show you’d be stuck examining for the foreseeable future. It could be anything from interest to goodwill for whatever had happened when you’d gone to touch him. There was also the chance that it was all just a put on. Though if that were the case, you weren’t sure why he’d suddenly try to trick you when he seemed to staunchly only do what he wanted. Paralyzed by the many scenarios, you short circuited as the doors closed.

You could feel his eyes on you, but no matter how hard you tried your body and even your mouth refused to cooperate.

The floors ticked by as silence filed in.

Your heart sank in time with the elevator’s descent.

“I suppose I can handle the suspense until tomorrow.”

“You still want to see me again?” The question jumped off your lips so quickly, your eyes widened.

Why after all that time was that what was easy to say?

“Your phrasing could use work, but I believe our agreement was for this area. We have two more locations to cover.”

The elevator chimed and the air felt too thick to turn to him.

That made sense.

He was meticulous if nothing else. 

You gave an odd laugh. “And here I thought you might have liked me or something!”

The doors opened and it was only when he also didn’t move that you felt some semblance of control.

You clutched the bottom of your coat to ease your nerves.

A flash of movement caught your eye and in your distraction you watched Donatello’s arm shoot out to keep the doors from closing automatically.

Otherwise, he still hadn’t moved.

The doors sensed his presence and opened back up.

Swallowing desperately, you felt the pull of his gaze. Tracing back to him via his still outstretched arm, your muscles tensed as you finally glimpsed his face.

Painted on it for the fourth time was what you now considered his trademarked look.

You knew what it meant.

There was no way.

He let you drink it in for enough for the doors to attempt a second close before he finally moved.

“Donatello?” Your voice sounded so small because you still couldn’t believe what you’d seen.

He, however, was long gone. You scrambled out just as the elevator doors made their third annoyed attempt to close. They bumped your shoulders and caught you. Breaking free, you sprinting out only to find him already reaching for a door handle across the lobby.

“Donatello!” He didn’t stop his trek as he exited the building.

NEXT

[lutawolf]

"I Will knock You" Power Play Explained Episode 1 and 2

Luta! It's a high school kid! How sick of you to see a power play. Um, no. How ignorant of you not to see a power imbalance in any age gap romance involving a school. There is no equal balance in that dynamic. The oldest one holds control unless he is the submissive. Which is the case here. If you are cruising the "I Will Knock You" tag, it means you like the show. I think it's far more gross that you don't see Noey as Dom, but I still want to watch the show. You're more accepting of a young teenager being taken advantage by an adult than a D/s element where he holds control? Make that make sense.

Episode 1 and 2 just a bunch of bullying by Noey.

Now keep in mind, when we first start out. The first few episodes are more bully than power play. I enjoy that for multiple reasons. We see the evolution of it becoming a relationship that has an unequal power balance. We watch two baby kinks, figuring themselves out. I'm not a huge fan of age gap, but damned if I don't love these two, and it's because the youngest is a Dom.

We see Noey trying to give a lotas to Pam, to represent his heart. The whole situation becomes a horrible mess that ends with Thi stepping on said heart. Right off, we see Noey coming off as aggressive and poor Thi being unable to stand up to it.

Noey follows Thi to his apartment and is straight up abusive. From dropping him down some steps to forcing him to look for a lotus at night. Helping him drop into water, not helping him out of said water. This continues on until Thi gives him a charm in exchange.

The turning point is when Thi is asked over by Noey's mom, and they are talking about tutoring. When Thi leaves, he runs into Noey in which humorous misunderstandings take place. I mean, Thi little sub baby literally passes out because of seeing Noey! It's adorably cute but leads to Noey feeling like Thi really does love him and while he doesn't reciprocate (lies, I tell you! Lies!) He likes the pursuit and determination by Thi and this is where things really begin. He gives him one side of his ear bud to listen to music with and kisses his forehead. From this point on, we see the dynamic between Noey and Thi change. While Noey is still in control and in charge, he's softened his demeanor towards Thi.

Hope you guys enjoyed this first review. I look forward to writing more. Wishing you guys the best New Years! 💜💜💜

[blech]

Why I Use An iPod in 2024

Please forgive the YouTube-inspired title. It's a joke. Mainly.

Anyway, yes, I do actually use an iPod (specifically, a fourth generation (2004, click wheel) 20 GB model) as my music player when I'm out and about, or occasionally when lounging around the house. There are a few reasons for this that work for me that probably don't for most people.

Firstly: I still use wired headphones (over-ear at home, in-ear outside). The iPod has a 3.5mm headphone jack, obviously; equally obviously, my iPhone (like almost all recent phones) does not. Sure, there are convertors, but that's faff. So while I still avoid dragging myself into the 2020s and use Bluetooth, the iPod is actually more convenient.

As a digression: it's really nice being able to use my pocket computer without a wire getting tangled up in it. Maybe this argues for AirPods, but I noticed because of the iPod, so why not just keep using it?

Secondly: I listen to albums. All the way through, in artist-decided order. Old ones, that I've had for years, usually. I also don't use Spotify, Apple Music, or any other streaming source. So it's not important for my music device to actually be connected to the internet, ever. An occasional sync to put music on isn't the worst thing, especially as my tastes change glacially nowadays (and have for years).

Like I said, these are almost certainly unusual preferences now, at least if the flood of Spotify years in review and wireless buds are any indication. If I get AirPods, I'll probably switch back to music on my phone (which certainly handles compilations better). Still, it's nice having the music I own on a device, and that's far less likely to change than headphone technology.

I will say: if you're like me, and listen to albums (or rarely-changing playlists) on wired headphones, consider a dedicated device (either an old iPod, or something like the Shanling M0 Pro, which looks like an iPod nano 6th gen, but better). It might work for you, too.

[waugh-bao]

So I was reading some concert reviews on IORR (I know) about the Ottawa 2005 concert. I'd read that Charlie left the stage during SFTD because of some technical troubles and wanted to know more about it. The reviews mentioned that both he and Keith left and Charlie seemed upset about his headphones. Then somebody mentioned that Charlie came in wrong on Brown Sugar and that Mick walked over and smiled at him and then Charlie got back on track. I think there might have been some technical issues for everyone because they also said guitars were cutting out so I assume Charlie was maybe having a bit of trouble hearing.

Anyway, two of the people who were there mentioned that at the end Keith, Mick, and Ronnie were trying to get Charlie to take a solo bow but he refused. One reviewer said they then "attacked him with kisses." And it made me think of how this was after his cancer and wondering if he could still play and keep up with the band and that they must have realized he felt down after the mistakes (whether or not they were his own or related to technical difficulties) and wanted to make him feel better and show him love. My heart!

Based on this:

Something definitely happened. I would hazard to guess there were issues with the sound engineering that were affecting both the instruments themselves and the monitor set-up (what the musicians are hearing in their headphones/ear buds).

What I hate about this, and what is so typical of IORR, is that all of these dipshits come out and act like they’re musicology professors at Yale when the extent of their musical training or ability is the 3 weeks they played guitar in college to try to pull girls.

Like the genius who wanted to inform us that the “click track on the drum machine must have failed” and that’s why Charlie didn’t enter right on “Brown Sugar”:

I have no clue what he means by drum machine, because the only time the Stones utilize drumming that isn’t Charlie himself playing in a live context are the pre-recorded bits of atypical drums for a few songs, like “Sympathy.” They never used any kind of drum machine before Hackney Diamonds. And they’ve very famously never used click tracks, which are a tool for drummers, not a component of a drum machine. Keith and Mick have both mentioned it multiple times, the only instance click tracks were used was one singular day in 1989:

Which all culminates in this pièce de résistance from the same reviewer:

Because somehow, while Keith’s fuck-ups are a charming example of how ‘raw and real’ he is and Mick’s are excusable, it’s all Charlie’s fault that the sound engineering equipment failed on him and the rest of the band.

That said, I absolutely love the descriptions of what happened after. How they tried to get him to take his own bow:

And, when he wouldn’t do that, the way they responded:

[shadowbunnydragon]

The Keyhole Halloween Special!

Oh wow! Heyo, folks! It's been a while since I had any updates for this story! I've been thinking about The Door/Keyhole a lot lately, and I've decided to finally get back to it. Specifically, to finish off the trilogy! The final story in this series will be called The Key! Not sure just when I'll be writing it, as I have a LOT to review from the previous two stories. That being said, all this thinking about it got me in the spirit to write this little Halloween Special! Nothing fancy, just a cute little peek into how various characters are celebrating my favorite time of the year! It just felt so odd and nostalgic to come back to these characters after so long! I hope you guys like it!

The Keyhole Halloween Special

by

ShadowBunnyDragon

"Okay, do you have your phone?" Judy asked, smiling up at her son. She was wearing an orange sweater and simple blue jeans. Eli was currently dressed in his ZPD costume, blushing a little while he rubbed the back of his head.

"Yep. And I made sure that it's fully charged," the human boy said, holding up said phone for emphasis.

"You worry too much, Carrots." Nick casually sauntered his way over to them near the front door. Looking out the window, he could see that dusk was inching closer, his ears picking up the sounds of chatter and shrieks from excited kits outside. He was wearing a gray sweater to help ward off the chill, at least until his winter coat would grow in, as well as a pair of brown slacks. "He'll be just fine." He gave Eli a wink along with his smirk.

Ignoring her mate, Judy looked up at her son with wide violet eyes. "I trust you, sweetie," she said while reaching up to give him a hug, that he was quick to return.

"I promise, we'll be safe, Mom." Eli smiled while leaned down and held his bunny mother. Sometimes, when he would first wake up in the morning, the human boy would feel dejected. His sleep-addled mind assumed that coming to Zootopia, meeting Judy and Nick and all his new family and friends, had all just been a happy dream. But the joy he would experience once the cobwebs from the previous night were quickly shaken off and realize that it was no dream, was a feeling he was unable to put into words. Just as they let go, that's when the doorbell rang. Opening the door for his much shorter parents, Eli grinned at the sight of his friends.

"Trick or Treat, bud!" Big Mike called out from atop Isaac's headfur. The mouse boy was dressed as a vampire, complete with a cape. "I vant to suck your blood, blegh!"

"You know," Isaac said, the coyote boy was wearing a dark trench coat over a suit and tie, with a pair of sunglasses on as well. "The vampire bat who played the original Batcula, Bela Desmodus, had a tic that caused him to make that blegh noise."

"What are you supposed to be again?" The deep baritone of Darryl asked. Eli looked down to see the chinchilla boy wrapped in gauze, yet still wearing his aviators.

Isaac rolled his eyes before pretending to speak into his lapel. "I'm a government agent! My job is to find and erase all evidence of aliens, catsquaches, and the paranormal in general, and make any and all witnesses disappear." He held up his paws and wiggled his claws in a spooky fashion.

It was then that Eli spotted Adam, who was standing a little in the back, wearing a costume very similar to Mike's. Seeing Eli's eyes alight on him, the adolescent elephant winced and nodded. "Yeah, apparently me and Mike both decided to go as Batcula tonight," he mumbled.

"I told you that it's okay, Adam," Mike said, turning to speak to the pachyderm. "Next time, whenever costumes are involved, we all know to call each other now."

"Not that that would stop someone." Isaac giggled, only to be silenced by Mike tugging on his headfur. Eli was a little confused by that, but didn't have long to ponder it.

"Hey, Eli," Chuck mumbled while munching on a Whoseawhatsit bar. The snacking cougar boy had his fur dyed gray with green painted veins visible, with a fake bloody bite mark on his shoulder, visible through a hole torn in his white t-shirt. Overall, his zombie costume was simple, yet well-executed. He grinned at the human boy, some fake blood slathered going down his chin. "Ready for the best night of the year?"

"You bet!"

Judy stood there, watching her son excitedly converse with his friends, struck by the contrast of how he was when she and Nick had first met him. Scared, alone, hurt, and somewhat withdrawn into himself. A warmth spread through her chest, that only grew in intensity when she felt her mate slip his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. The fox's muzzle parted her ears as he rested his jaw on her head, his tail curling around her feet.

"I think it's safe to say that he's come out of his shell." Nick's smooth voice was too low for Eli or his friends to hear, but Judy heard him perfectly. She resisted the urge to turn in his arms and bury her face in the soft fur of his neck and simply nodded.

"I'm just so proud of how far he's come," she quietly replied.

"Me too... he really is a strong kit."

"He's our strong kit." Judy turned and kissed the corner of Nick's mouth before they broke apart.

"What do you think?" Ned and Ted asked in unison. The two black bears were wearing a single flannel shirt that covered both of them, with both of their heads poking out of the neck hole. Ned's left arm was sticking out of the left sleeve, and Ted's right arm was being used for the right sleeve.

"That's a pretty cool idea, guys." Eli smiled, fighting back a giggle at the twins' antics. The two ursine were beaming with pride before a white tigress hopped in front of them. Kimi was also wearing a costume ZPD uniform, and struck a pose as she whipped out a fake ticket book.

"Ready to hit the streets, partner?" Kimi purred, her black and white striped tail swishing mischievously.

"Oh wow, Kimi, we both picked the same kind of costume!" Eli spoke, completely oblivious to the looks his friends, as well as his parents, were giving him.

"Yeah, what a coincidence," Isaac snickered, before a sharp tug on his headfur from Mike got him to settle back down.

"I think it really suits you, Eli," Lyla said while slipping in between him and Kimi. The zebra girl was wearing a pirate costume, complete with an eyepatch and a plastic cutlass. Eli blushed and looked away.

"Th-thanks, Lyla. Your costume l-looks really great too." Kimi pouted and crossed her arms, shooting a snickering Isaac a pointed look. Looking on, Judy struggled not to gush at the cuteness of the sight, squeezing Nick's paws with her own. The fox tod smirked at first... and then quickly suppressed a yip of pain as he forgot how strong his bunny's grip could be when she wasn't being careful.

"Alright, kids," Nick said, wincing a little as he managed to manually disengage the vice that were Judy's paws and step forward. "You all have fun tonight. Don't stay out too late, and remember to be safe."

The group of young mammals thanked Eli's parents and started to trickle away, with Eli being the last to leave.

"Thanks, Mom," Eli said, bending down again to give Judy another hug, which she was quick to return. When they let go, Nick found it was his turn. "Thanks, D-dad. I love you."

"We love you too, buddy. Now, don't keep your friends waiting." As Nick said this, he could sense that Judy was filming them with her phone, most likely ready to send it off along with all the pictures she had no doubt stealthily snapped of Eli in his costume off to various friends and family. With one last squeeze, the smiling human boy let go of his fox father and turned to jog to catch up to aforementioned friends. Judy and Nick watched from the open door, seeing the young tigress slip her arm around Eli's and start tugging him closer, her voice drifting over on the gentle October breeze saying that it was already chilly tonight. Nick chuckled as he watched Lyla take Eli's other arm in her own and agree.

"Poor guy still has no idea, does he?" Nick asked while closing the door.

"I thought about bringing it up with him." Judy grunted while she carried the big bowl of candy to set on the small table near the front door. Her smaller gray paw darted out to gently slap the red one that had tried to swipe some of the candy. "That's for the Trick-or-Treaters, Slick," she said, waving a finger in her face.

Nick chuckled and held up both paws defensively. "Can't blame a tod for trying." Judy rolled her eyes, missing Nick tucking the three little boxes od Dorks he had swiped with his other paw up his sleeves.

Meanwhile...

"Trick or Treat!" Sarah practically sang it as she stood on the stoop in her bright blue princess costume, looking up at the chuckling female lioness with her bright brown eyes. Her big brothers, Elijah and Elliott were standing on either side of her, Elijah dressed as Ironmammal, and Elliott as Doctor Odd. Nearby, Emmitt and Olivia watched their pups weaponizing the combined efforts of making their eyes as wide as possible, definitely getting larger pawfuls of candy as a result.

"She might not be an otter, but our little princess sure has gotten the hang of the 'Otter Eyes'," Emmitt remarked.

"I thought that it was called the Puppy-Eyes," Olivia said, feeling her husband intertwine their tails. Emmitt took a moment to clean his glasses, beaming at the joy on their pups' faces as they excitedly ran back, Elijah and Elliott now riding on their baby sister's shoulders.

"Mommy! Daddy! We've already got lots of candy!" The little brown-skinned furless mammal was hopping from foot to foot in pure joy.

"You sure have, Princess." Emmitt saw that their little plastic pumpkins were already almost at halfway full, and this was only the fifth house that they'd hit on their street. Internally he was grateful that Olivia had thought to bring some empty pillowcases to pour the candy hauls into. "Let's go on over to Mr. Hornsburger's house next." He motioned to the next house in line, this one with little plastic headstones planted in the front yard, with a large plastic bear skeleton strewn between them. Nearing the open gate for the white picket fence, Sarah stopped, a troubled look on her face.

"Something wrong, honey?" Olivia asked, looking up at her daughter in concern.

"Uhm... the skeleton's kinda spooky, Mommy." Sarah was hugging her pumpkin bucket to her chest.

"Don't worry, Sarah," Elijah piped up, his voice sounding a bit tinny as it came out of the speaker in the mouth of his plastic armor. He stood proudly on her shoulder, striking a heroic pose, one that Elliott was quick to imitate.

"Yeah," Elliott squeaked, swishing his high-collared cape. "Ironmammal and Doctor Odd will protect you!"

"... Uhm... okay," Sarah's face broke out into a happy grin that, despite missing a couple of teeth, was bright enough to practically light up the street. Emboldened by her big brothers, Sarah stood up straight and marched down the paved walkway towards the front door. She slowed a little as they neared the skull of the skeleton, but kept moving. A motion sensor in it was triggered, and the eyes glowed red before it let out a roar. Sarah shrieked and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. Olivia watched her reach up to ring the doorbell, and crossed her arms.

"That seems a little too spooky for little pups," she huffed. Emmitt nodded in agreement, but was happy regardless.

"Maybe, but I think the pups are making Mr. Hornsburger pay for it." As they watched, it was clear that their children were using the same trick as the one from the last house. The middle-aged rhino seemed completely caught off-guard before scooping out some large handfuls of candy for the awaiting buckets. "With interest, it would seem." Olivia wrapped her tail around her husband's and leaned into him.

At that moment...

"Enjoy braving the terrors from beyond," Chaz said, speaking in a deep and spooky voice. The timber wolf was dressed like Freddy Cougar, waving with his knife glove at the group of mammals that entered the entrance of the haunted house behind him.

"We're doing pretty well so far." Arnie, whose costume was that of Barkenstein's Monster, walked over, having gotten a fresh roll of admission tickets. "I think we'll be able to hit the goal for Mayor Snow's new human refugee center well before midnight."

"I still can't believe the Chief actually agreed to this," Chaz said this under his breath before putting on his spooky voice for the next group that walked up to their table. His tail started to wag when he recognized the couple holding paws. "Well, look who it is!"

Baily and Sophia were both blushing, the red-headed human man seeming a little flustered, until the lioness started to rest her head on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak when a loud voice interrupted him.

"Yes, yes, I know," Leodore Lionheart said while brushing past Baily and Sophia, a lioness in his own age range on his arm, a large politician's grin plastered on his muzzle. "No one expects to run into the former mayor, especially at a charity haunted house, but please, gentlemammals, I'm just an ordinary citizen like yourselves. There's no need to make a fuss over me."

The rhino and wolf officers shared a look but elected to say nothing. "Uh... okay, welcome to the ZPD's haunted house. All proceeds go to char--" Chaz found himself cut off by the pompous feline.

"Ah yes, the human recollection center! Had I still been in office when they'd started popping up, I would have happily set in motion a program just like it. We'll take four tickets, my good sirs. One for me and my special lady friend here," Leodore purred as he said this, leaning down and whispering something in the lioness' ear. She giggled and lightly swatted his shoulder. As Baily and Sophia watched her aunt flirting with her latest beau, the two were finding it hard not to cringe. "And for Barry and Sophie here. You could say that we're here on a double-date." He flashed the younger couple a wink, prompting the two to look at Arnie and Chaz with twin pleading looks in their eyes.

"Right away, Mr. Lionheart." Arnie quietly chortled, trying to disguise it as a coughing fit. He smiled sympathetically to the pair while accepting the money Leodore had tossed onto the table, tearing off four tickets in exchange.

"Actually," Chaz mused, his tail wagging again, "this whole charity was organized by Mr. Andrew Harcourt, the human whose boat crashed ashore a few months ago."

"You don't say?" Leodore started to scratch his chin, looking thoughtful. "I may have to introduce myself to this young up-and-comer. Maybe see how he would feel about running with me as my new assistant mayor. But, that's a plan for tomorrow. Tonight, we'll see how scary this haunted house actually is. C'mon Benji, Sophia. Let's see who gets startled first."

Baily and Sophia waited for the double doors to close behind Lionheart before they smiled at Arnie and Chaz.

"So how scary is it?" Baily asked.

"Chief Bogo is in a creepy clown costume, slowly stalking the halls in his section," Chaz explained.

"Oooh, ordinarily he's a rather large and... imposing mammal," Shophia chimed in.

"That's putting it mildly," Arnie snorted. "I think he was really excited for tonight." Just as Bailey and Sophia were getting ready to head in, out came a loud, high-pitched shriek. The doors were thrown open, and Leodore came sprinting out, passing right by Bailey and Sophia and the table, almost bowling over a group of costumed mammals.

"NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THERE BEING ANY CLOWNS!!!"

Elsewhere...

"Oh, Renato!" Lily set the bowl of candy she had been holding down on the coffee table, her heart skipping a beat as the large black jaguar entered from the kitchen, also carrying a bowl, this full to the brim with freshly popped popcorn.

"Yes, mi amor?" He purred, taking a seat at the couch. Lily cuddled up to him and pressed Play on the remote, resuming their Halloween Horror Movie Marathon. On the tv, Malevolent Deceased 2 started to pick up from where they had left off.

"You should have seen them! So many cute children with just the CUTEST little gray fox kit riding around on a sweet older human boy's shoulders! All the kids tonight have just been so adorable!" Lily gushed, before composing herself. Renato began to chuckle, it tapering off as he began to look pensive.

"Is something wrong?" Lily asked.

"... Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Before you came to Zootopia... had you ever considered... having children?"

"Oh." Lily looked away, fiddling with the sleeve of her white sweater. "Well... yes, I had... but with h-how... with how m-my marriage was... I think on some level, I knew that bringing any child into that situation wouldn't have been fair to them. So I... just pushed the thought out of my head..."

"I see." Renato felt like he could kick himself for asking such a question. Feeling that he had ruined the mood for their movie marathon, he opened his mouth to apologize for bringing it up, when Lily continued.

"But... I... w-well..." She was now wringing her hands a little, looking away. "I... would like to become a mother one day."

Renator felt a warmth in his chest.

"I'd like to... have a cub or two myself," he confessed. "But... with the scar... I'm afraid I might be a bit too... scary..."

"Nonsense," Lily said, startling the jaguar. "I've seen how you dote on your nieces and nephews. And getting to know you, I've seen firsthand that you are one of the sweetest, gentlest, and cuddliest mammals I have ever met." Renato was grateful that his dark fur could hide the blush he felt. He almost jumped a little when he felt her hand come to rest on his. Looking over, he saw that Lily was looking at him, the sad expression gone, replaced by one radiating joy.

"I think you'd make an amazing father, Marshmallow." He smiled at the embarrassing term of endearment that had seemed to stick.

"I think you'd be a wonderful mother, my Water Lily," he said. Their lips met, with the kiss ending just as the main character of the movie started to fire up a chainsaw.

In Savannah Central...

"Halloween... a night for costumes and candy and smiling happy kits. At least, that's what it looks like on the surface. But underneath the family friendly veneer, beats the dark heart of the underbelly. Tonight is when that darkness likes to float up to the surface. And we, this city's stoic sentinels, are charged with keeping chaos and anarchy from running rampant in the streets."

"I can see why the Chief wasn't too keen on the idea of you wearing your Batbun costume tonight," the human officer chuckled while his diminutive partner furrowed his brow. The two were presently on parking duty, wearing their meter maid vests and hats.

"Oh come on," Jack said, hopping down from the truck in front of the expired meter, having just tucked a ticket under the windshield wiper. "It'd look a lot better than this dayglow vest! Plus, as my side-kick, you could dress up as Sparrow!"

"I don't think so, Jack." Walter printed out a ticket for a mouse-sized SUV that was somehow parked in two average-sized handicapped mammal parking spaces at once. "Well now this just seems intentional."

"Yeah, the nerve of some mammals," Jack said, leaning down to check the license plate as well as to look inside. "No handicap plate, and not even one of those little hangey-things you put up in the rearview window."

"They're called disability placard holders, partner." Walter printed out a tiny ticket, and very gently tucked it under the wipers.

"I still can't believe that Bogo's still got us doing parking duty though!" Jack huffed and pouted, his foot starting to tap in annoyance. "We should be out there, getting into chases, slapping the cuffs on some perps, bagging evidence!"

"Hey now, a boring night is a good night when on the beat," Walter explained, seeing the smaller mammal rolling his eyes. "Besides, keeping new officers on parking duty for a few months is a great way to help get them familiarized with the city, as well as with dealing with less than friendly citizens. Most police work is actually pretty boring, and other times you're dealing with people who are not having a great day. Parking duty can also help weed out the officers who can't handle that aspect of the job."

"... So what you're saying is... we're being tested!" Jack was tapping his chin as he spoke.

"Yep."

"... Got it!" As Jack began to strut along with a newfound confidence, Walter felt a pit of worry start to form in his gut.

"Wait... Jack, what are you thinking?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, if that little country bunny could make a huge bust like she did with that little Nighthowler incident and become a hero, then how hard can it be for a couple of smart mammals like us?" Jack rested his fists on his hips, striking a heroic pose.

"Didn't that 'little incident' revolve around a large conspiracy involving several high ranking political figures?"

"Only, like, three or four officials other than that crazy ewe," Jack said, waving a dismissive paw. "... And around thirty other mammals, including a couple officers, after everyone was rounded up." He mumbled that last part under his breath.

"Uh-huh... and you think we're going to make an even bigger arrest than that before we've even finished our stint in parking duty?" Walter had become an expert eye-roller since being partnered with Jack.

"Well we've gotta because this is just dull." Jack threw his paws up at that in exasperation.

"Parking duty is also a great way to help some of the more excitable of the new officers help curb some excess energy." A feminine voice wafted over to the pair. Looking towards the source, they saw a pair of mammals that the partners had become more familiar with since joining the ZPD. Nadine Wolford-Fangmeyer came to a stop just short of the pair, with Ralph right beside her. The gray wolf was pushing a stroller, with a happily babbling little Rosalie inside. The human baby was cooing and looking all around with wide green eyes, sparkling with excitement and curiosity. She was also wearing a wolf footed onesie with the soft faux fur the same coloration as Ralph's.

"Well hey there, you two," Walter said, walking up and crouching down to tickle Rosie's feet. She squealed in delight and clumsily clapped her little hands. "And hi there, cutie."

"Hey guys, working a late shift?" Ralph snickered behind his paw. "I take it that someone annoyed Chief Bogo today?" At that, all eyes turned to stare at a certain hare, including Rosie's. The baby looked from Jack to her little stuffed bunny and giggled.

"Hey now, that warthog was looking real sketchy, and I thought he was throwing up gang signs. When he kept making more of them when I tried to question him... well, I thought he was being confrontational... how was I supposed to know he was deaf?" Jack looked defensive, his ears drooping as Walter sighed.

"I do know some sign language... though I've never seen hooves being used to speak it before. But anyways, from what I could tell, that guy was aggressively trying to dispute the ticket Jack gave his car." Jack looked vindicated at that. "But still... yeah, the chief wasn't happy that he kept theorizing that the guy was part of some kind of counterfeit turnip operation which... I'm not even sure how he got to that conclusion."

"The pieces were all there!" Jack huffed and crossed his arms, his ears drooping again. Trying not to laugh, the other three officers changed the subject.

"So... uh... Rosie's been having such a fun first Halloween," Ralph said, his tail rapidly becoming a happy blur, quickly whipping out his phone to show off the pictures in the different costumes they had tried on her.

"And there's been a significant drop in mammals asking if she's a little tiger or wolf cub that just has a condition to cause her fur to not grow in," Nadine said, leaning down to check and check on her little girl.

"Mama!" Rosie shrieked, reaching up for her. The tigress purred and happily complied, passing along the candy bucket to a surprised Jack. He set the jack-o-lantern bucket down on the stoop of the apartment complex they were standing in front of, vaguely aware of the gaggle of small children from multiple species milling at the door. A young giraffe girl dressed like a ballerina reached up to press a button, only for the door to swing open a second later. Out came a lynx wearing a skeleton costume with a plastic cauldron of candy.

"MWAHAHAHAHA! Take a pawful, if you daaaaaaaaaare!" he said in a spooky voice. The kids all found this silly and thanked him, each reaching up to grab some for themselves, quickly scurrying away. Jack was mulling over possible crimes he and Walter could check for while on parking duty, when a shadow loomed over him from behind. The lynx in the skull mask smiled and patted the confused hare on the head. "Here you go, little guy." The big cat dropped some candy into the plastic bucket Jack had been given before walking away. Jack felt a blush on his ears, ready to tell that guy off. Then he saw that one of the candies was a 3 Catketeers bar, and decided to let it slide for tonight.

Heyo! Be sure to keep an eye out for my final installment in The Door series, The Key! And have a Happy Halloween! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!