#finally my lazy ass edited his textures

[suhjihanma]

─── Variety of Flavors

Pairing

Hanma Shuji / Female Reader

Summary

As the summer temperature rises, so does the action within the bedroom. Thankfully, Shuji offers ice cream in a time like this. You know the man all too well for him to simply suggest ice cream. More would be placed on the table.

Word count

3,942(?) words - editing.

Content warning/kinks

Pet play, pet name(s) - mentions of "kitty", "kitten", fingering, fellatio, dirty talk, ownership, and smut.

Author's note

This story was based on the poll that I created this past Friday. I wanted to post this to my main page but, I figured to post this on a fanfic blog in order to gain some type of traction. Anyways, we now have come forth to engage in fatherless activities. Shuji Hanma is aged up based on the time leap presented in Season one. Also, this is a new imagine blog so, for those who have any requests or suggestions, feel free to shoot a message, follow and check out the blog.

“Man, its hot as hell out here.” Running errands while battling the heat is no joke. Hanma could have been more proficient and decided to gather things with an earlier convenience but in the end, laziness triumphs everything. Not to mention that most stores around the area were not obliged to serve cold sweets before breakfast was served. Not that it matters or anything but, Hanma was seriously regretting his decision. Reaching up the steps to the apartment that both of you shared, he was eager to come inside to surprise you with some good ol’ fashioned ice cream. One cup filled nicely with “cake batter,” the other with “cookies and cream.” It was kudos from his significant other that you recommended the place for him. An American-owned restaurant that serves flavors that well more distinguished than the Japanese counterparts gave him a run for his money.  

Then again, he questions about the amount of sugar and extra conservatives being placed inside.  

“Hopefully, she won’t complain about the melting.” Desperate enough to get in, Hanma quickly opened the door to escape from the scorching temperatures. A brisk wind blew across his body as he closed the door and placed his shoes by the entrance. It was a blessing to be finally home from the heat, especially with someone who has been good this entire day. Hanma recalled the conversation that he had with you last night regarding to receive more rewards for good behavior. Funnily enough, he mentioned how ice cream was on his list considering the other actions had already been done or it grown to be a bit repetitive. 

 Walking towards the living room area, he passively remembers how obedient you became. Punishments grew to be less, let alone with the constant backtalking and misbehaving. Rewards had come more familiar within the household. The sounds of pleading, crying, and moaning had become a familiar sound within this home, and Hanma didn’t want to take that away from you or him. There’s something about seeing you fully submitting. The eyes that swell with fear, the scent that musk's with sweat-an aroma that circles with anxiety, and the knees that stain themselves with dirt and embarrassment. 

 Hanma’s inner thoughts are entranced with impurity as he looks towards you lounging, seeming as if you were in and out of her sleep. A light tint of the sunrays was beaming across your well-nourished skin. As you tossed in your sleep, a pair of cutely laced cat ears were rubbing at the texture of your hair, along with the fuzzy tail that prodded against your bare ass now rests at the top of your upper thighs. The blanket was the only piece of fabric that was holding you together, let alone it was underneath your body. Hanma could be a believer of a deity but, even so, you were a gift of a creation from God. How could a man like himself be blessed to have such fine beauty being presented to him. His life precedes ugly, yet you make it to be as beautiful as possible. 

Still, the blanket that you were lazing about on did not help what Hanma was going to do with you.  

His smile grew wicked as he walked over to you, favorite flavor of ice cream in hand. As his steps towards you grew to be closer, your eyes slowly opened at the man coming towards her. The sense of curiosity grew towards the man as he finally came to your view. You knew that his smile read nothing but trouble, but you couldn’t help but to be indulged with his trouble.  

“I’m back! Hopefully, you were good while I was gone.” Chuckling lightly, Hanma sat down on the couch and placed the cup of creamery on the table. You looked at him with a hint of caution while looking towards the cup that he placed on the table. An excited mewl escaped one of your lips as you came out from your nesting place. Stretching your body, it’s not you were trying to remove the kinks from your resting muscles. Rather than, you were trying to get a reaction out of Hanma. The arch of your back slowly rises with the tail that was resting on your thighs falls, the hips slowly pivoted from one side to the other as you began your crawl, and the smirk that stayed on Hanma’s face was all too familiar to you. Second nature be damned, it’s a scene that plays too well for the both of you. 

“Welcome back, Master.” You happily announced, slowly crawling to the gap of his thighs, resting your hands on each side. You can't help but to be excited to crawl in his presence. The ache of wanting to please him grew to be overwhelming as he buries his unoccupied hand between the textures of your hair. You swore to yourself that this man’s hands were anything, but bliss given. Comfortable scritches were layered across with loving as you purred lightly from his touch. An excited hum slowly rumbled through your throat as you continued to bask in the comfort of Hanma’s touch. It’s not only relaxing but something that perceives itself as assuring.  

“Aw, aren’t you an excited kitty?” The sultry tone of voice became sugar coated with coos as he stops caressing your hair. The matching collar that resembles well with your cat ears were now being held with Hanma’s fingers, forcing your head to tilt upwards to him. You ignored the drop of anxious pressure as you were now greeted with a smile that beamed uncertainty. Hanma was a difficult person to read faces off from, especially with his counterpart. Then again, his counterpart had cues.  

Hanma was a gamble. 

“Such a good kitty.” You saw him briefly looking over at the container before placing his eyes towards your vulnerable eyes. “You bought me ice cream, Master! How kind of you!” Excitement was steadily yearning in your voice as you looked at him with an expressive face. Your ecstaticity couldn’t handle itself anymore as you wanted to indulge in the sweet treat from him. “I am a good kitty.” You encouraged your reassurance by playfully nipping his hand that was still holding onto the collar, being careful not to bite over the tattoo that was on top of his hand.  

“That you are.” Releasing his hands from the collar, Hanma collected himself and opened the container. Grabbing a plastic spoon that was nearby, he scooped a small serving that looked like it had already softened from the heat earlier. Your eyes pleaded with hunger as you voiced a pouted response, begging for him to feed you the reward that you so ever pleaded for. With your soft mewls, that only made Hanma reach out underneath you with one of his free hands to add pressure to your clit. Two of his fingers pressed against the area with numerous nerve endings and you couldn’t help but moan out in protest. If this was his way of getting an unruly kitten like yourself in check, then it was considered cruel.  

He simply wanted you to fall in line.

“I’m not having any of that.” The sinister smirk faded to a stern look of disapproval. The man continued to rub underneath you as you tried your best to create a sensible reply to his order. “I can make you mewl, kitten.” Hanma noticed that the mewls coming from your mouth grew to be coherent with his taunting. “Just you got to be good to me.” A cool yet soft texture formed in the inside of your mouth. Without a notice, Hanma quickly serves you the spoon and places it inside your mouth. The taste coats your palette as you can’t help but to mouth off a pleasurable moan from the action that was happening underneath you. Senses begin to confuse you as you fully succumb to Hanma’s touch. Him feeding you ice cream can wait, rather you want to fully be tormented by touch. Disobedience is now aching to turn another chapter into you as Hanma continues with his enjoyment of torment. Oh, if only you had the chance to overtake his role and make him succumb to you.  

There will be a snow day in hell before that happens. 

“And I’ll be good to you.” The mewls that were exiting from your mouth had grown to be suppressed by a warm mouth pressed against yours. The noises had partly ceased from a kiss now grew to be anything but moans of pleasure. The warmth of his tongue coating alongside the coolness of the treat in your mouth became intoxicating. The softness of his tongue explored the open areas of yours as you began to dwell deeply into an abyss full of enticement. Seconds grew to minutes, and minutes grew to hours as you were fully locked within Hanma’s kiss. You barely noticed it but, Hanma started to palm himself between the area that rests against his upper thighs. No wonder the breaths grew to be more deepen by each stroke. Seeing him get more excited made you grow familiar with a certain pit inside your stomach. A feeling that rushes towards the bottom of your sex, you couldn’t help but to mewl out again in pleasure.  

“Master, are you playing with yourself?” You whined. Looking at Hanma, you break away from your kiss while Hanma continued to pepper kisses across your lips. It’s quite rare to see this side of your master come out. The lovingness nature of a sick and stricken man was unfamiliar in your eyes in the bedroom, yet you could imagine that the heat could be a play in factor in regards of submission and dominance. Hanma looked at you with a soft smile and moved his hand away from your sex. The glistening fluids coated his fingertips as he brought both fingers to your mouth. He could only imagine how wet you are down there, more wet enough to slightly decorate the floor with secretions from being under his control. It was a non-verbal command for you to lick the remaining excess from his fingers. The strong taste that carried from underneath now mixes with the saliva that the both of you secreted, along with the creamery sweetness that lingered long enough in your mouth. You couldn’t help but become drunk in the aftertaste that coated the inside of your mouth. Hanma teased his fingers inside of you, slowly prodding them in and out before letting themselves be removed.  

“Master's can play with themselves too, Kitten.” He moaned out before slowly unbuckling himself. You sat and watched Hanma take his precious time in getting his belt off along with the button and zipper. It’s as he is teasing you with his slowness. “Although, you got to have a bit of patience.” He spurted out a soft grunt before showing off a smirk in your response of what happened earlier. “Oh, I couldn’t help myself, Master. I need you to fill me.” The last sentence of your protest made you rub your thighs together by the thought of having Hanma inside you. Patience is considered a virtue, but it only became an afterthought. You couldn’t help yourself to give into temptation. It made its mark before you could be an obedient pet by obeying his every command. Still, Hanma can be considered the most forgiving when it comes to correcting misbehavior. Thankfully, this was the last time that your master would let this one slide.  

“I know, Kitten. Still, you got to be a good kitty for me.” Hanma slowly adjusted his pants down to the start of his knees. “And how good kitties correct their behavior, hm?” The tail that was resting against the floor now gets lifted by one of Hanma’s hands as he moves the plug in a torturous, slow pace. The movement of the plug made you whimper out in excitement as you completely folded to his thighs, grabbing whichever flesh is present. “M-master, my t-tail!” You cried out as the movements were too much on a sensitive person like yourself. You wanted Hanma to stop but then again, you want him to still maintain his exact composure with torture. The beginning piece continued to go in and out as you pleaded with Hanma to stop, the mewling grew to be constant as you started to buck your hips to the motion of the plug, daring yourself not to get uncoordinated with his movements.  

“What about your tail?” Hanma questions you in a dull tone of voice before now guiding his hands along the container of ice cream. Whining out of agony, how dared he stop pleasuring you, cursing him about worrying about trivial things rather than giving you the satisfaction that you ever so desperately need. Frustrated, you nudged your cheeks to his opened thighs, playfully nibbling at the area. “I need more.” You couldn’t take it anymore. The desperate need of wanting more than just his fingers grew to be a bit out of control as you slowly bring yourself to the head of his cock. The anger of wanting pleasure overshadowed the presence of Hanma’s cock that was profusely a hint color of red. Hanma didn’t say a word, he just looked over at you, studying the hardened form with your hands and lips. One of your fingers had gone downward to his balls as you gently lick the head in a lapping motion, almost identical to a cat’s. As the motion continued, you caressed his balls with one of your hands as you carefully moved them in the palm of your hand. A response from him squirming underneath you made you mewl ever so sultry. The heavy pants of Hanma as he slowly tries to buck inside your mouth gave you enough edge to continue. Giving his own rights of punishment would be listed enough as equals, but you wanted to indulge in your fruits of labor. That part can come soon, right now you want to please Hanma with one of your mouth techniques  

“Fuck, Kitten. Fuck. You take my cock so well. Drink all my milk, okay?” You made a slight face as you locked eyes with the man who continued to move his hips gently to the movements of going down on him. “Drink your milk?” You broke character, as if you want Hanma to try again with his dirty talk. You playfully swipe your tongue across the tip of his cock, only to have him shudder in response. “Less talking, more sucking.” He groaned out, grabbing another spoonful’s worth of ice cream and without warning, the soft contents that were melted from the cup slowly started to drip on his cock. You watched him with curious intent as he continued to drench the contents of melted cream, as each hint of coldness touches his skin, a slight shiver of discomfort grew to be more visible.  

“I said that I was going to reward you today, so here it is, Kitten.” Hanma chuckled as the components of the spoon were now gone. The excess that was layered was wiped away from the spoon as he placed it back on the table. Eyes that glow of pure bliss, the sensual touch of his fingers danced back towards the opening of your sex, fingers now circling around the entrance is now being plunged deep into the sensitive cavity. The whorish moans that eroded from your mouth now became silenced as Hanma forcefully guided your head to take him whole inside. The quivers of body tensions were released as Hanma quickly was to fold from the sensitivity of your mouth, he cries were more of a plea in dirty talk, begging you to take him from the inside. The hardness and warmth of skin made perfect ties with the sweet cream that fell into your mouth. The mixture of saltness and sweetness was quite intoxicating for someone who had such a greedy palate for your master. As you continued to move yourself up and down on his sensitive cock, Hanma continued to work his fingers alongside the deepness within your sex. Muffled cries and pleadings were sacred beyond this point. Hanma wanted you to submit out of pure intoxication. Handling out rewards that were traced with impure intentions was something both of you had grown to comprehend. As he reached to the sensitive spot that hid inside of you, his fingers slowly curved into a come-hither motion, making sure that you cry out on his cock. The movement of his fingers grew too much for you to bare as you lifted yourself off from his cock, the contents of the cream still linger over your lips as you mewl out in pleasure, body slowly starting to shake from the overstimulation in which your breathing began to become shallow.  

“Please reward me, Master!” You cried out, hips swaying in motion with Hanma’s fingers as he continues to stroke the sensitive area inside of you. “I need your reward...please, give me your reward!” You begged out pleadingly as you placed both of your hands to the base of his cock while continuing to lap at the head and tip like a cat in heat. “Reward....” A mindless repetition of sorts grew from you as your speech began to be muffled by the swelling size of his cock. Looking over, Hanma couldn’t take the pressure of you pleading so needily underneath. He could bring you to a field full of mind break by you constantly pleading over his cock, but then again, it’s nice for him to see you this vulnerable in a state of bliss. A submitting pet like yourself who only thinks about getting fucked from his fingers made Hanma want to take you all. “Such a needy little kitty.” Hanma slightly huffs at your needs before making a grunt in return. “You want your reward. Huh?” He questions you as you continued to suckle on the tip, which made him want to jump from the couch and fuck you from behind with the tail plug still intact. “Please, master? I’ve been such a good kitty.” Your mewls continued out in protest until Hanma got closer to your face. “God, you look cute with my cock in your mouth.” The nerves of embarrassment seemed to show in place as he continues to watch you suck him, knowing how which nerve correlates to the correct spot when going down on him. A grunt form in the back of Hanma’s mouth as he forcefully guides your head to the end of the base, violently going up and down which each cough or sputter gets muted with words of encouragement. 

 “Since you asked. You are such a well-behaved kitten.” The forcefulness of his motions was becoming a bit too much as Hanma continued to face-fuck you, hips moving rapidly along with the fact that you sensed that he’s about to orgasm soon. “Shuji!” You muffled out while the grip of his hands grew to be tighter with each stroke, let alone the continuous motion of his fingers that were inside of you didn’t seem to stop either. Being this sensitive grew to become more than enough to bear. If this way Hanma’s way into creating an orgasm from you, then it was complete torture yet, there was something beautiful in his torturous ways. At the end, he still wanted you to reach your climax even if he didn’t reach his. Maybe that’s what you liked about being under his control. No matter how overwhelming the sessions are, it still leaves you satisfied by the sense of his touch.  

“The more I fuck you, the more my name comes from your mouth.” Grunted Hanma as he continued to work his fingers inside of you. You moaned out in satisfaction as your hips began to furiously work themselves with the rhythm of his fingers. Pressure was building as you held yourself on his knees. You couldn’t take it anymore. All you wanted was some release and thankfully, Hanma could give it to you. 

 In his own way, of course. 

“Master, I’m about to come!” You cried out while lifting yourself from his cock as the orgasm overtook your body, a loud moan started to drag. Sensations in your body grew to overly sensitive with shock as you cry out in pure bliss, then going back to suck on Hanma’s cock while muffling cries are heard. “Come for me, Kitten. Come on my fingers.” Hanma repeatedly starts to stroke in gentle motions before he continues bucking his hips, this time in a slower motion. “Fuck, Kitten, I’m about to come.” He cries out. You gently remove yourself from his cock as your tongue swipes the hole entrance. “Master wants you to come for Kitten.” The sultry tone didn’t help Hanma as without warning his orgasm came over him like waves. The unexpected sensations of the orgasm slowly dragged itself from his body as each spurt slowly drenched the top of your tongue. As Hanma slowly begins to come down from his orgasm, the warmth of him coats well with the aftertaste of sweets as you swallowed the cum that rests on your tongue.  

“You taste amazing, Master.” Cheerfulness along with a hint of exhaustion grew from your voice as you continue to lap the remaining excess from his cock. A sensitive Hanma playfully tossed your hair before readjusting the kitten ears that became lopsided. “Even better than the ice cream, kitten?” Hanma looked over at the empty container before looking at you with an expression that reads tiredness as well. You shook your head in response to his question before climbing up on the couch to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for the meal!” You chipperly stated, bouncing up and down happily as you playfully move your fur tail, sweeping it left and right. Hanma looked at you with disbelief before scrunching his eyebrows. He tossed his head on the headrest of the couch before motioning you with one of his hands to come nearby. “How do you have this much energy after I just finger fucked, and face fucked you?” Specifically stating out each position, Hanma playfully pats your ass while you snuggle up to him, making sure that skin contact is close as it ever needs to be in this dire moment. “Because you give me energy, Master!” You playfully stated. “Master’s milk is Kitten’s energy.” A sense of pride grew in your voice as you nuzzle your face in your chest, a satisfied purr grows slowly again in your vocal cords. Hanma scoffed and laughed at the response you gave to him. “That it is.”  

Cute bantering now became small traces of silence as neither of you didn’t want to move from comfortable positions. Appreciating skin contact is one of those things Hanma likes to enjoy, you included. After rough sessions, you can’t help but bask in the warmth of your partner. The touch of one another can make the both of you melt, but touch is communicated all too well in play sessions that grew to be more intense than this. Before getting into having a relationship like this, you always thought that Hanma didn’t believe in aftercare due to the nature of his lifestyle in the criminal underworld yet, here you are, being vulnerable to someone who tries his damnedest to not be vulnerable to certain people. It’s funny how things turn out.  

What’s even more funnier is that Hanma didn’t care to place your ice cream in the freezer before he walked in.  

[ladymiseria]

Smut Alphabet - Belphie

Finally, I’m posting Belphie’s entry in this little series.  I could’ve elaborated more on some points, but then I would never shut up so.  I’m also kicking my own ass because I’ve thought of additional things I could have included in Levi and Satan’s but now it feels dumb to go back and edit them.  Oh well.  Hit up my ask if you’re really curious about what I left out and I’d be happy to talk to your ear off lol

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

-Lots of cuddles and kissing and just overall closeness.  He doesn’t like to be left alone even if he’s just going to fall asleep right afterward: he feels better if you’re still there with him, especially if it was a particularly intense session.  He wants to be reassured that you still want him and want to be with him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

-He loves basically everything of yours from chest to thighs: that’s the best place to sleep on another person, after all.  But he also loves it because it’s so soft and warm and comforting.  He loves listening to your heartbeat while his head is on your chest or falling asleep in your lap while you play with his hair.

Belphie is very fond of his demon form, probably the most so out of all the brothers.  He loves when his tail and/or horns are incorporated in your sexual encounters, and even gets excited when you pay attention to his cow spots.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

-He always wants to come inside, but if he’s in a submissive mood, he’s really into you making him come all over himself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-He would never admit it to anyone but you but he yearns for punishment.  Belphie is a switch and, whenever he’s submissive to you, he loves to be punished, especially physically.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

-Fairly experienced, and probably the most so when it comes to being intimate with humans given his past affinity for visiting the human world.  This makes him an exceptional partner for a human like you, though.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

-Anything that lets him lay back and be close to you, so side-by-side or you on top.  Basically the most intimate position(s) possible.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

-Fairly serious, but he still loves to tease (and be teased) during the actual act, and making you smile feels like a victory to him.  He’s quite capable of levity, despite what his brothers may think.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

-Belphie doesn’t pay much mind to his body hair situation, but he does clean himself up a bit for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

-Intimacy is very important to Belphie.  He loves spending one-on-one time with you, and you’re one of the few people who can actually get him out of the house.  He likes to do little things for you that may seem insignificant from the outside, but you appreciate the hell out of them.

It was mentioned before, but he loves any position that’s particularly intimate and allows him to touch as much of you as he can.  He likes feeling wanted and trusted.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

-Belphie masturbates fairly frequently, mostly because it’s easier than engaging with another being in hopes of sexual satisfaction, and he can do it from the comfort of his own bed.  He’s cut back since you got together, but it’s still a simple indulgence for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

-Breathplay/choking is at the top, but he was very nervous about bringing it up to you after, well, that whole incident.  Belphie also loves PDA of any kind, dom/sub (he’s a switch so he finds pleasure in both roles), impact play, orgasm denial (for either of you), and consensual somnophilia (again, for either of you).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

-It’s Belphie so his bed or your bed, obviously.  Anywhere soft and comfy is fair game for him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

-The teasing really gets to him, hence why the two of you keep up a constant stream of it.  Also, making out!  He could kiss you for hours and it’s the quickest way to get him excited.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

-He’s not into sharing you with anyone (though he’s not opposed to getting Beel involved).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

-He very much enjoys both giving and receiving, and he’s quite good at the former.  His favorite is when you play with his horns while he’s going down on you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

-Avatar of Sloth so...slow, generally lol That doesn’t mean that he can’t pick up the pace when the situation demands it, though.  He has bursts of stamina as opposed to a consistent speed.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

-Not really into them since he generally likes to take his time and go at his own pace (which is slow obviously), so quickies kind of go directly against this.  They’re not a hard no for him, though.  The two of you tease each other enough that sometimes he simply gets too riled up and needs you right then and there.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

-Yes, very much.  He loves pushing your boundaries and seeing how far you’re willing to go with him.  Pushing your limits plays into his more demonic tendencies, but it’s also because he wants to see how deep your love goes for him (and what he should avoid if he wants to keep you all to himself).

As mentioned before, he’s also very into PDA of all kinds so he has no problem fooling around in places where you might get caught.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

-Quite long, though probably the shortest of all the brothers given, you know, the whole sloth thing.  That said, still significantly longer than any human.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

-He honestly never cared all that much, but he’s now been converted.  Using them on you means he can still pleasure you even if his mantle is working against him in the moment.  And he’s down for almost any toy used on him if it’s for punishment purposes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-Belphie loves to tease more than anything.  He’s a snarky little trickster so teasing is all part of the sexual game for him.  Touches, whispers, suggestive texts, you name it and he’s probably used it to get you into his bed.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

-Belphie’s not very loud; he prefers for any noises he makes to be just for you.  Little groans and whispers and growls are the most common for him.  On the flip side, though, he loves when you get loud.  He loves your voice and the thought of his brothers (or anyone, for that matter) knowing exactly what the two of you are doing together.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

-He’s a little bit of a brat, but an even bigger brat tamer.  He’s never fully admitted it, but he loooves when you push back against him when he’s domming you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

-Belphie’s cow spots cover a lot more of his body than just his neck/shoulders; they’re also on his dick.  He’s bigger than most humans and it’s highly textured.  He also has a piercing on the underside.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

-Pretty high, but he’s lazy.  You’ve learned how to properly motivate him, though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-Almost instantly: it’s Belphegor, after all.  Sex is a big energy expenditure so he’s passing out almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.  Not before making sure you’re right there with him, though.

[sickjoonie]

could u pls write something where an omega is going through heat and an alpha on their rut (maybe the omegas heat triggered it?) and both feel miserable but try to take care of each other anyway? maybe the alpha tried helping the omega but ended up feeling sick too? idc which members you choose tbh, whichever ones you see fit for this, thank you if you decide to write this!

this is the ask that inspired the whole au :>> enjoy

-

heats were, and always had been, a pain in jimin’s ass. there was nothing exciting about spending half the week rotating between crying over spilling water to holing up in the bathroom with stomach pains to having his appetite go haywire.

the symptoms were different with every omega. some experienced no stomach pain, others got uncomfortably horny (which isn’t as sexy as it sounds and more incredibly annoying to deal with), and some barely experienced any symptoms at all. while social media liked to claim that sex was the solution to all their heat woes, that solution only lasted a couple of hours. usually by the time the symptoms returned, the omega was too worn out physically and emotionally to try another round.

jimin considered himself lucky; he only had to deal with heats every two months. at the same time, it meant he didn’t qualify for suppressants, seeing how his cycle was spread out enough that it didn’t greatly disrupt his work.

his coworker, namjoon, wasn’t as lucky. he was on the strongest suppressants possible yet still dealt with surprise heats. though according to him, it wasn’t as bad as it had been before.

“there was one month where i went into heat three times,” namjoon had told him once. “it really fucked up my body. i ended up in the hospital after collapsing.”

jimin had only been hospitalized for a heat once during college when he wasn’t eating as much as he should have been. it was an experience that he learned to avoid.

at the end of the day, however, heats were still unpleasant, even if jimin didn’t have them as frequently. he knew the symptoms of preheat and knew to dread them.

so when jimin woke up with no appetite and a headache that he knew couldn’t be chased away with some painkillers, he groaned loudly and buried his head under his pillow.

he felt his boyfriend stir, rolling over to make a lazy attempt at cuddling jimin. jimin groaned again, silently mourning the loss of being able to be productive for the next few days.

“mm, minnie is grumpy today,” his boyfriend teased, drawing small circles with his finger on jimin’s back.

“hobi hyung,” jimin whined. “my heat is tomorrow.”

jimin felt hoseok’s hand slowly settle on his back. “ah, i suppose it’s about time you had one, huh?” 

jimin sighed, pulling himself out from underneath the pillow and sitting up. he could feel his hair sticking up in all sorts of directions in little tuffs. he pouted down at hoseok, silently conveying his need for attention.

hoseok had been with him long enough that he knew right before a heat hit, jimin needed cuddles. he wanted to be held and have his hair pet; little reassurances helped him face his heat a bit better. he sat up and draped himself over jimin’s side, one hand coming up to pet the younger’s hair.

“i’ll have to tell my boss today. we’re in the middle of revising a book as well, ugh. my body hates me.”

hoseok hummed softly, scratching lightly at jimin’s scalp. “i’ll take the days off too, baby. we can start preparing your nest tonight, does that sound good?”

jimin nodded, leaning back into hoseok. he sighed. “i still have to go to work today.”

“mhm.” hoseok nuzzled into jimin’s neck, pressing light kisses to the exposed skin. he rubbed his cheek over the junction between his shoulder and neck, leaving his scent there. he knew well that jimin loved his citrus scent, often asking hoseok to scent him when he wanted comfort.

jimin smiled softly, then gently swatted at hoseok’s arms. “i need to get up now or else i never will.”

hoseok reluctantly pulling away, laying back against the bed. “i’ll leave the dance studio a bit earlier so i can help you prepare.”

“thank you, hyung.” jimin leaned over to steal a kiss before finally going through his morning routine.

jimin was about to head out the door when hoseok got up, making a point to see jimin off.

“you’re gonna be okay, minnie.” hoseok kissed jimin’s nose, arms circled around the younger’s waist. “if it gets too much, you can always come home.”

jimin smiled, warmed by the affection from his boyfriend. “i’ll handle it. see you tonight, hyung.”

jimin left, departing with one last kiss. already, he felt exhausted, as if he had just finished a work day. the bus ride to work felt too long and he wanted nothing more than to go back home and curl up in bed with hoseok.

he entered the office ten minutes later than he normally would, having stopped to get some caffeine. it would help settle the migraine that seemed to be settling in and at least get him through the work day.

he sat down at his desk, sighing quietly and sipping at his too sugary latte. it was a testament to how often he drank; he could only handle the coffee taste when paired with something sweet.

his desk was connected to namjoon’s. namjoon was an omega as well, with round cheeks a bit of a tummy that he always blamed his boyfriends for. the two had bonded quickly, jimin’s sweet personality mixing well with namjoon’s calm one.

namjoon raised an eyebrow upon seeing his coworker with coffee. “rough night?”

jimin gave a friendly smile. “heat’s tomorrow.” he knew the other omega would understand.

as predicted, namjoon winced in sympathy. “if you need me to help with any projects while you’re gone, let me know.” 

“i’ll forward some stuff to you. there’s no way i could finish everything today,” jimin sighed, running a nervous hand through his hair.

he set to work, sending off an email to his boss right away to warn her of his upcoming absence. jihyo was more than understanding of heat or rut related absences, having to deal with ruts herself.

the day passed slowly, everything seeming soaked in molasses. jimin blamed it on his exhaustion and the lingering headache. it made all the work that he desperately needed that to finish so much more difficult to complete. he couldn’t wait for the end of the day.

he groaned, stretching out his back. it was nearly five, the typical time he would normally get off. however, he was currently halfway through editing a section. it seemed namjoon spotted his reluctance as the omega quickly spoke up.

“forward it to me, jimin ah. you need to go home and rest, staying overtime would only make you more miserable.”

jimin sighed, though he knew namjoon was right. he saved the file and forwarded it to namjoon, giving the other a grateful smile. 

“i’ll be back in a couple of days,” jimin promised, gathering up his stuff and putting it away. he pulled on his coat, stretching his back out.

“say hi to hoseokie to me!” namjoon waved him goodbye, making no move himself to leave. most likely he was picking up the overtime for jimin; he was too sweet. jimin made note to help the older out in the future, specifically when his heat rolled around.

the journey home was uneventful, with jimin yawning more times than he wanted to admit. he made it back before hoseok, sighing softly into the empty apartment. 

without much energy to do much else, he headed to their bedroom. he was more than eager to strip out of his work uniform, the fabric scratchy and uncomfortable. his heat always made him more sensitive to fabric and different textures.

he replaced his uniform with his favorite pajama pants and a sweater that smelled distinctly of hoseok. the citrus smell always blended well with his own, a sweet ocean scent that hoseok always complimented.

jimin stretched his arms over his head, yawning loudly before collapsing on the bed. he curled up on top of the bedsheets, grabbing hoseok’s pillow to cuddle in his arms.

he closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. he could feel the tension falling off his body, sleep quickly overtaking him.

he dozed lightly, waking only by the feeling of hands in his hair. he groggily opened his eyes, blurry vision revealing the familiar shape of hoseok. he automatically reached out, wanting more contact. he was rewarded by hoseok gathering him in his arms, lifting the younger to sit up and rest on his chest.

“mph,” jimin groaned, a bit disturbed by the sudden movement.

“my sleepy jiminie,” hoseok cooed, hand stroking the back of his hair on his neck. it felt nice, jimin noted. “you must be so exhausted after a day of work, huh baby?”

jimin nodded against hoseok’s chests. his hands reached out a grabbed the loose fabric of his mate’s shirt.

“you’re so clingy when you’re sleepy. so adorable.” hoseok kissed jimin’s hair. 

jimin didn’t counter that. he was already nearly completely asleep, cozy and warm against hoseok’s chest.

hoseok tsked, scratching lightly at jimin’s back. “come on, you need to eat. hyung made you food. afterwards, we need to set up your nest.”

jimin whined, feeling hoseok pull away. he pouted, seeing how he was forced to wake up. he watched as hoseok left the room, forcing jimin to get up. jimin grumbled, forcing himself up and sleepily trudging after him.

he found hoseok in the kitchen with a plate set on their table, smiling fondly at seeing his sleep ruffled boyfriend. jimin sat himself in front of the plate, stomach grumbling with a reminder of how hungry he actually was. he smiled; hoseok knew how hungry jimin got after naps and had gone out of the way to prepare a meal.

“love you hyungie,” jimin sighed happily, grabbing his chopsticks and scooping food into his mouth.

hoseok sat next to him, his own plate of food out. the two ate in silence, jimin focused on eating and hoseok content with observing him.

jimin cleared his plate, leaving his tummy full and warm. he traced his tummy lightly with his fingers, the tingling sensations making him sleepy all over again, while hoseok cleared up the dishes.

hoseok was ridiculously endeared when he came back and found jimin sleepily patting his tummy. he walked over so he was standing next to jimin, his hand settling on his mate’s neck. it was an intimate move, one that was reserved for mates only. it wasn’t a symbol of claiming but rather a sense of taking care of the other.

jimin let himself sink in the comforting feeling, knowing that by tomorrow, it would be gone. “i need to start on my nesting soon.”

hoseok hummed in agreement, fingers moving to play with the hairs on the back of jimin’s neck. “just tell me what you need and i’ll get it for you, minnie.”

jimin finally stood up, moving to cup hoseok’s cheeks with his tiny hands. “i just need you next to me.” he kissed hoseok softly, earning a content sigh from the other. “i also need you to gather all the blankets from the closet and your favorite hoodie.”

hoseok giggled, used to the younger’s demands. “i don’t think it’s so much my favorite hoodie as it is yours,” he teased.

jimin pouted, hands falling back to his side. “whatever. get moving, this nest isn’t gonna build itself.”

hoseok mock saluted jimin, earning him a whack on his ass when he walked away, laughter trailing after him.

the whole process of nesting took forever, in hoseok’s opinion. jimin justified that he was simply picky. certain blankets had to be located in certain locations, pillows needed to provide structure, and some blankets were merely for the outside structure.

jimin let hoseok gather everything for him and set to work constructing his nest, sniffing each blanket and pillow carefully. once hoseok had everything gathered, he was instructed to stay back and watch jimin construct the nest independently. after all, by nature, jimin was very independent and a perfectionist. hoseok could respect that.

jimin was exhausted by the time the nest was finished, yet satisfied with how everything was. he poked his head out, gesturing hoseok to come in. carefully, the older made his way in, snuggling up to jimin’s side.

“it’s perfect, love,” hoseok praised. they were surrounded by their own scents, giving the area a comfortable and cozy feeling.

jimin nodded, relaxing into hoseok’s arms. “‘m exhausted. nesting is hard work.”

“you put a lot of effort into it, but it makes you comfortable, so that’s what matters.”

jimin sighed, closing his eyes. “can you scent me hyung?”

hoseok easily obliged, nuzzling his scent onto jimin’s neck. jimin let it relax his muscles, letting him drift off to sleep.

hoseok held him close, knowing well what was coming. he fell into a light sleep, unable to properly relax knowing that his mate would soon be in pain.

-

jimin woke up in the early hours of the morning to his stomach churning with nausea. he groaned and rolled onto his back, a hand finding its way to his stomach. he was sweating and shivering in discomfort.

he knew the signs far too well. it seemed his heat didn’t want to wait until the morning to hit, instead choosing the dead of night.

whenever jimin felt nauseous, he began to hiccup. they were tight and uncomfortable and often trailed off into a retch. they were loud too, not tiny and adorable like his normal ones.

he rubbed his stomach, feeling it jolt with each hiccup. next to him, hoseok stirred, body naturally reacting to his mate’s distress. jimin whimpered, body begging to be comforted, knowing his mate was nearby to take care of him.

it didn’t take look for hoseok to clue into what was happening. this wasn’t the first time he had woken up to a heat-sick jimin. “my poor jiminie,” he cooed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “come on, let’s sit up, okay?”

jimin let himself be guided into a sitting position, encouraged by hoseok’s soft touches. despite being cautious, his stomach still lurched with the change of position and his mouth watered.

“hold on one second,” hoseok said before quickly exiting the nest and grabbing the nearby trash can. nobody wanted to rest in a vomit covered nest. he climbed back in and placed the trash can under jimin’s chin.

jimin curled over the trash can, panting through nausea. he could feel hoseok’s hand rubbing his back, providing some comfort against his revolting body. “i feel horrible,” jimin moaned, “ugh- my stomach…” he clutched his stomach weakly with his hands, feeling it gurgle unhappily.

hoseok kissed the back of jimin’s neck, hushing the younger gently. “it’s okay, just get it out, puppy.”

jimin took one last nervous gulp before leaning forward, stomach heaving. a loud gag echoed from the back of his throat. he coughed, then gagged again and brought up a mouthful of sick. he whimpered, barely being able to catch his breath before being thrown into a round of heaving and vomiting.

jimin spit into the bin, panting from exertion. he gave one last retch before his stomach settled back down, disrupted and aching.

he let hoseok guide him back against the pillows, body melting back into exhaustion. he watched hoseok move the trash can out of the nest and away from jimin. it was always the hardest the first time it happened during heats. the dread of repeating this scenario over and over again for the next few days made jimin tear up, frustration and discomfort bubbling in his chest.

hoseok was quick to notice jimin’s tears, the scent of their saltiness thick in the air. he sighed in sympathy, automatically moving to nuzzle jimin’s scent gland. his arms gently wrapped themselves around jimin, cocooning the omega against his body. 

“h-hobi hyung,” jimin sniffled, shaking against him, “i feel so awful.”

hoseok stroked the younger’s back, rocking him back and forth. “i know, puppy, i know. heats are never fun.” he pressed a kiss against jimin’s hair. “i’ll be right by your side the entire time. hyung is going nowhere.”

jimin sniffled loudly, a new wave of tears inspired by the warmth in his heart. he let himself be rocked back to sleep, surrounded by the warmth of his mate and comfort of his scent.

for the most part, he remained asleep, only waking up twice more to finish emptying his stomach. hoseok took care of him, letting the younger focus on resting.

it was early afternoon that he properly woke up and encountered his second symptom.

despite having puked his guts out and having struggled with an upset stomach all morning, jimin wanted food. his stomach growled, appetite having suddenly returned.

his stomach had double standards; it wanted food one second but also threw a fit when it received it.

when he was younger, jimin wasn’t as careful as to what he ate. he was more focused on getting food than on how it would feel when he inevitably vomited it back up a couple hours later. the most memorable time was when he ordered a shit ton of panda express and ended up stuck in the bathroom for five hours afterwards. he had never vomited as much as he had that day, to the point where he considered going to the hospital just to get some relief from the nausea.

jimin stirred lazily, rolling over and clinging onto hoseok’s leg. hoseok was currently typing away on his laptop, though he smiled at seeing jimin clinging onto him.

“hi puppy,” hoseok greeted, a fond smile on his face. jimin’s hair was currently sticking up in all different directions, the blonde hair soft and fluffy. he couldn’t stop himself from ruffling it up even more, earning a pout from jimin.

“i’m starving, hyung,” jimin whined, pulling out the puppy eyes. “make me food? please?”

hoseok’s hearts ached from the puppy eyes- there was no need to bring them out, hoseok was already whipped enough as it was. he closed his laptop and set it aside. “do you want to come with me? or do you want to stay in the nest?”

jimin checked with his body; he felt weak, but he honestly would prefer to be around his mate at the moment. “i’ll come with you. wanna watch you cook.”

the two got up, hoseok helping jimin get steady on his feet and wrapping the younger in a blanket. they moved to the kitchen where jimin claimed one of the barstools. he looked like a lump of a blanket with only his face and tufts of his blonde hair poking out.

“an adorable little mochi,” hoseok cooed, squishing jimin’s cheeks.

jimin pouted, but his cheeks were pink and insides warm with love.

hoseok prepared him some rice porridge. it was easy on his stomach and didn’t cause as much nausea or vomiting as heavier foods did. over two years of dating jimin, hoseok had become a master at the rice porridge.

it was a good thing too because jimin refused to eat any other kind of rice porridge.

hoseok brought the bowl over and set it down in front of jimin. however, the younger merely pouted.

“feed me hyung,” he whined. “i’m in heat.”

hoseok laughed, but obeyed and picked up the chopsticks. “you’re the biggest baby.” he brought up food to jimin’s open mouth, watching the jimin eagerly take it.

jimin smiled, cheeks round with food. he chewed happily. “‘m your baby.”

hoseok fed him another mouthful, followed by a kiss on the nose. 

once the porridge was eaten, the two moved back to jimin’s nest. jimin laid on top of hoseok, curling up and pressing his nose against hoseok’s neck. he felt warm from both the fluffy blanket covering the both of them and the body heat of hoseok.

it was moments like these that made his heat bearable.

-

it was on the third day of jimin’s heat that everything went wrong.

hoseok woke up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night. the only thing he registered was his stomach aching for food, driving him out of the nest and into the kitchen. barely awake and barely aware of what he was doing, hoseok let instinct take over as he pulled out leftovers and stuck them in a microwave. while that was going, he prepped some ramen, feeling as though the leftovers wouldn’t be enough to fill his stomach.

he stuck a packet of ramen in and the microwave pinged, catching his stomach’s attention.

hoseok stumbled across the kitchen to it, grabbing some chopsticks. as soon as the food was out, he dug in, burning his tongue. he winced but forced the food down. he felt like he hadn’t eaten in days and the only way to make up for it was by eating everything in sight.

while he ate, he worked on the ramen, eagerly waiting for it to be done as well. he was halfway through the leftovers when he determined the ramen to be finished, dishing it out into a bowl. the leftovers ended up abandoned next to the stovetop; his stomach had moved to a different target.

his mouth was full of ramen noodles when the door to the bedroom creaked open. the sounds of footsteps echoed through the hall until jimin appeared, eyes blinking sleepily and a frown etched on his face.

it was the sight of jimin that shook hoseok out of his trance. he swallowed his noodles, placing the rest of the bowl down. he looked around the room, blinking as if just seeing it for the first time.

“hyung? what are you doing?”

hoseok a couple more times, trying to figure out the situation. a twinge of pain echoed from his belly, clearly upset with having so much food forced in it so fast. “uh, i guess i got hungry?”

jimin frowned. he could smell his mate’s scent; it was more sweet than normal. “this looks like too much food for a midnight snack.” he moved forward, pressing a hand to hoseok’s forehead. his eyes widened with recognition.

hoseok still was confused as to what was going on. out of nowhere, a wave of pain jolting through his body. he pitched forward, nearly collapsing on jimin, groaning as his muscles seized up.

“shit, this is bad, really bad.” jimin struggled to hold hoseok up, still suffering with weakness from his heat. “hoseokie hyung, baby, you’re in a rut.”

hoseok whimpered, finally connecting the dots. the sudden spike in appetite, the way his muscles were on fire. his rut wasn’t due for two more weeks, however.

“it hurts,” hoseok hissed, face buried against jimin’s chest.

jimin rubbed his back. he could feel hoseok’s muscles tensing and relaxing against him. they had never been in heat and rut at the same time before; he had no idea what to do. however, he knew someone who would.

“baby, i think we need someone helping us. i’m still in heat.”

hoseok nodded in agreement. he wanted his jimin to be taken care of, and he obviously couldn’t do it in the moment.

“let’s get you to bed first, okay?” jimin coaxed the older into walking, leaving behind the mess in the kitchen. hoseok had to rely on jimin to guide him, in too much pain and confused to carry himself.

once hoseok was settled in the nest, curled up in a ball, jimin grabbed his cell phone and pulled up his friend’s contact.

it took a couple of tries before they picked up. “jiminie, it’s 4am.”

jimin sighed. “taehyung, we need help.”

-

“one delivery of jinnie hyung’s special stew for one hungry hoseokie!”

hoseok groaned, struggling to open his eyes. he was drenched in sweat and his muscles still ached, but he was a bit more aware than when he previously woke up.

he was confused as to why taehyung was in his apartment, though.

“huh?” hoseok blinked hard, looking around his surroundings he was in the living room, propped up with pillows and covered in a fluffy blanket that hoseok recognized to be taehyung’s.

“open up!” the beta cheerfully said before stuffing a spoonful of something warm in hoseok’s mouth.

hoseok struggled for a second, then swallowed, feeling the warmth travel down to his belly. before he could ask any questions, however, taehyung had already stuffed his mouth full again.

“for fuck’s sake, tae, let the poor man wake up.”

seokjin walked up behind taehyung, setting a hand on his mate’s shoulder he smiled warmly in greeting to hoseok. 

hoseok finally spoke. “what are you guys doing here? where’s jiminie?”

taehyung cooed, patting hoseok’s head. “you two are adorable. don’t worry, he’s resting in his nest right now. he had a bad vomiting session while you were passed out.”

hoseok frowned, anxiety curling in his belly. “is he okay? he’s still in heat.”

taehyung smiled. “it’s okay, hobi hyung. it’s all normal for him.”

“what you should really be worried about is the fact that you’re in a rut,” seokjin piped up behind taehyung. seokjin was an alpha too and knew that ruts out of cycles weren’t common or healthy.

hoseok sighed, letting his head fall to the side. “i know. don’t wanna go to the doctor though.”

taehyung hummed sympathetically, frowning. “you and jiminie just moved in together, right?”

“well, it’s been five months, so i guess?” hoseok shrugged.

“so this would be his third heat with you living with him.”

hoseok nodded, confused as to what taehyung was getting to.

taehyung patted hoseok’s cheek, then stuffed a spoonful of stew in his mouth. “there’s no need to go to the doctor then.” he smiled. “your cycle is just matching up with minnie’s!”

hoseok blinked, but seokjin was nodding his head, so he went along with it. he really didn’t want to go to the doctor’s anyways.

he let taehyung feed him, sinking into a state of disconnection from both the fever and confusion fogging up his head. he let taehyung press a cold press against his forehead, barely letting out a whine in protest.

“poor hyungie,” taehyung sighed, his fingers moving through hoseok’s hair. “you must really not feel good, huh.”

hoseok hummed. ruts always took the energy out of him. between the muscle cramps and the fever and the confusion, there was little he could do but lay down and wait for it to pass. 

normally jimin would cuddle him and massage his muscles, knowing how tense they got, but he knew that jimin was in no state to take care of anyone else. he still wanted to cuddle his mate, however, the longing for affection settling in his chest. 

“wanna be with minnie…” hoseok whined, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

taehyung gently hushed him. “i know, it’s hard without your mate by your side.” he sighed. “take it slow, okay? we want to make sure you’re both okay.”

hoseok closed his eyes, letting taehyung tuck the blanket around him. the food and cold press helped a little, but there was an itch under his skin. it had been such a long time since he had spent his rut without jimin by his side. even before they were dating, jimin would hold hoseok in his lap and soothe him softly.

he found himself unable to drift off, instead distracted by the pain and need for jimin’s presence. he gave up on trying to sleep.

hoseok could hear seokjin talking with taehyung in the kitchen

he decided to disregard what taehyung had said. he gathered up his blanket and snuck over to the bedroom. the room smelled strongly of the ocean mixed with vanilla; it was distinctly jimin.

hoseok crossed the room, only hesitating when he came to the edge of the nest. “jimin?”

jimin was curled up in a small in the center of the nest, however he easily stirred when he heard hoseok’s voice. he whimpered, reaching out for his mate and inviting him in.

hoseok practically threw himself into jimin’s arms, snuggling close to his mate and feeling the discomfort disappear. he nuzzled jimin’s neck, feeling the other relax against him. 

“i missed my sunshine,” jimin whined, grip tightening on hoseok. “and i’m sorry i made your rut come early.”

hoseok was quick to dismiss jimin’s apologies. “our bodies are in sync with each other now. it’s okay, minnie.”

they settled into silence, both of them feeling run down by their own bodies. hoseok could feel his leg muscles beginning to cramp up, yet at the same time, he felt completely relaxed. he pressed butterfly kisses against jimin’s neck, relishing in the way it made jimin giggle quietly.

jimin yawned, then buried his nose in hoseok’s hair, sighing in content. it wasn’t long before he drifted off, his own symptoms having calmed down at the presence of hoseok.

hoseok lifted his head to smile at jimin’s sleeping face, heart squeezing with affection. he fell asleep not too long after, finally at ease.

-

taehyung and seokjin found the two curled up around each other, clinging on as if it was a matter of life or death. it was disgustingly adorable, according to seokjin, who said so while taking a picture of the two.

-

the weekend brought the end of jimin’s heat and the start of the end of hoseok’s rut. it was still lingering, however, making him achy and hungry.

jimin took this opportunity to absolutely spoil hoseok.

currently, hoseok was cuddled up on the couch, covered in the softest blanket and propped up against the back of the couch. jimin had put a movie on the tv and he was lazily watching it. he could hear jimin in the kitchen cooking. normally, hoseok was the one to prepare meals, but jimin had insisted on prepping something.

hoseok didn’t mind being bound to the couch. jimin was always bringing him snacks and showering him with affection. if he mentioned his muscles aching, jimin was more than willing to massage him.

hoseok smiled when he saw jimin coming into the living room, a bowl of food resting in his hands.

“ah, jiminie, i feel spoiled,” hoseok commented once he saw that jimin had made his favorites. 

jimin laughed, handing hoseok the bowl and patting his hyung’s head. “you deserve it.”

hoseok couldn’t help but blush a little, causing jimin to coo. in embarrassment, hoseok stuffed his mouth full of food. he groaned at the taste, pleased by how well jimin had made it.

jimin settled next to him, the two watching the movie quietly. hoseok quickly emptied his bowl and placed it on the coffee table before leaning back and sighing.

“i think i’ve gained some weight with how much i’ve been eating.” he rested a hand on his stomach, patting it lightly.

jimin rolled his eyes, smiling. “you say that every time, hyung.”

hoseok shrugged, resting his head against jimin’s. “our cycles are synced now, according to taehyung.”

jimin nodded. “tae told me.”

“it was only a matter of time,” hoseok mused. “we’ve always been close, after all. i’m surprised it took our bodies this long.”

jimin moved his hand to settle on top of hoseok’s, squeezing it lightly. “it’ll be a bit of an adjustment. at least our work schedules will be a bit easier now.”

hoseok was grateful for that too; his boss would appreciate him having less time off during the months. he didn’t mind having their ruts and heats lined up. if anything, it made him feel closer to jimin.

he wanted to spend all his ruts with jimin, deep down. they had only been dating a little over a year, but hoseok had loved jimin for so long before that that he couldn’t imagine a life without him.

he wasn’t ready to admit that yet, so instead he squeezed jimin’s hand back and closed his eyes. 

“we’ll learn to adjust. i’m just happy being by your side, even if you are throwing up.”

jimin elbowed him lightly at the teasing, though his heart was warm. “i know you’ll take care of me. i’ll be there to take care of you too, baby.”

hoseok let the words warm his heart and flush out the ending of his rut, leaving him content at jimin’s side. 

they would learn how to adjust to the new cycles. they were, after all, disgustingly in love.

[kae-karo]

lmao so i thought someone asked for an analysis of the gwf vid like i could’ve sworn i had that ask so y’all just have to deal with me posting it anyway here ya go lads golf gone sexual™: the final edition

the fucking. the pirate outfits. the. i’m. i don’t. i can’t. (x) ‘left over from somewhere’

fucking phil ‘u lost ur stick last time i think’ yeah phil sure yeah sure okay buddy

‘choke me daddy festive edition’ @ dan pls stop

what cuties i love them just not actually knowing what they’re doing and messing it up and these awkward long pauses before they burst into a fit of giggles i love them

why did they even bring up the ‘winter update’ like it had no relevance??

crinkly boye

don’t worry i can host dan what are u even on about

phil out here coming up with a great vid name (yo ho ho) and they went with battle for the booty smh that says everything u ever need to know abt dnp

wow even in this year of 2018 we got yet another ur mum joke (and phil’s right we do love kath)

@ dan pls stop ur bf from making weird hand gestures okay that’s,,,,,it’s unnecessary

hi they cute

‘u absolute twit nipple’ how on earth does that still sound so fond what the fuck

and another ur mum joke wow i just,,,,wow

the way dan says ‘oh my god that was good’ like. he never sounds like that??? it’s a good sound he should sound like it more often idk it’s like soft and genuine in a sort of ‘wow i did okay??’ kinda cute surprised way??

‘stop talking about how close this is’ dan,,,,,,really u thought that was bad??? really??? really?????

phil’s deep-voiced yarr and dan’s literal only reaction being that he should’ve made a pun out of it leads me to believe philip does that deep voice often enough that dan is entirely unfazed and idk how i feel abt that

‘just bounced off the rim that’s how i like to play it, don’t go in, just bounce off it’ that cheeky fuckin smile daniel please can u not

lmao the pirate outfit is unlucky hm

hi i love dan’s lil trying-not-to-smile-but-just-about-to-smile smile when he’s staring at phil it makes me happy

how did they spend ten minutes (okay ten full seconds) trying to figure out the name of the wheel

dan: makes f/phat booty pun, phil: ‘they’re just filled with ass they’re not even coins’

same dan

important content

ik everyone’s said it by now but dan’s choice of adjective was great and i’m here for it (’gaily jumping off the ship’)

dan’s lil smile when phil’s ‘gaily adjusting his stance’

dimply boye

how does phil just blatantly ignore ‘phil’s edging us guys’ like idk i mean i hyperfocus too but like damn they really must just talk about that kind of stuff on a regular basis bc u don’t just tune that out y’know

phil’s distracted ‘that is so much ass’

‘yarrs’ carries the same energy as when dan made the ‘ain’t no gravy up in this kitch’ joke in the bunny biscuits vid and stared at phil and waited for his joke to be acknowledged

my kink is dan looking hilariously fond abt phil making bad sex-related comments (’it’s a strap-on’)

hey phil u know if u swear in another language it’s still swearing right?

did dan just absolutely commit to the harder flag?? without saying anything abt it? even though he lost?

phil just. out here. purposely almost-swearing. we stan

ik i saw this joke elsewhere but phil ur literally staring at a posh pirate mmkay b

i just wanna know what was going through dan’s head with ‘oingo boingo i’m a dick’ bc like. u okay there b??

ye dan we know ur geometry skills are quite lacking but glad the whole reference thing just keeps on coming up

‘they’re gonna do an exam about me and everyone’s gonna get an A star’ i mean that’s living in the phandom isn’t it? We all aspire to be phil trash, even though only One can hold the ultimate title

okay like take five seconds and take a step back they’re literally just playing golf i love how stupidly competitive they get it’s adorable

‘oh dear’ makin a comeback

plankspank.com why are they like this (at least phil didn’t buy the domain this time)

danny u have picked up ur husband’s habit of making a cawing noise whenever u get a birdie

why does he do this

physically in pain

fucking hell dan why do u have to make this so goddamn sexual i didn’t ask for this i didn’t want u talkin bout how it was a slow one and u put it in and jfc look i read phanfiction for a reason i don’t actually wanna know what ur sex life is like okay

britney spears references wow is it 2010 again or is that just all the foreplay golf,,,,,play,,,,,

dan,,,,,,,,

re: the tentacle: ‘that is gonna be right,,,,somewhere’ dan we got it u did not have to add ‘right in the poop deck’ and ur fucking noise okay we did Not need that

i lied earlier my kink is dan saying he cannot believe smth

this is just becoming a masterpost of all the weird faces dan makes

‘it’s part of the loser station for idiots who get everything wrong’ ???? dan help i can’t tell are u a seven y.o child who makes up mean insults when u lose or a twenty-seven year old adult who makes sex jokes n innuendos bc this vid is giving me mixed vibes

🎶🎶there she goes, there she goes again🎶🎶

awwwww matching nerds

dan n his fuckin squeaky i’m-making-fun-of-u voice

‘some people are just skilled booty raiders’ #dantops2k18

Important Dan Fact™ if u can see his lil corner of his mouth u can bet u could see his dimple on the other side and i’m suing bc we can’t see it

why did it take them like 3 tries to figure out they had to time it with the cannons i mean it’s like they’ve never played a vid game in their lives

bite it danny boy u know u want to u also know if it were the other way round phil would’ve bitten at dan’s finger

more dan face

phil absolutely going off topic with ‘sometimes i want to explore with fashion’ and dan’s immediate ‘oh do u now phil lmao’

‘so many textures out there’ he cute

i mean dan cute too but phil cute for sayin it

we stan boyfriends with literally the same brain whining abt lazy rivers and rude kids

hi sorry i just love watching phil when dan’s talking bc he pays so much attention like he used to not do that (back in the day) but like he just really turns and focuses on dan now and it makes me happy

i know we all adore dan’s ‘shut up’ but it always gives me life hearing phil tell dan to shut up

fond daniel

also phil’s super cute soft natural voice when he’s talking about how he keeps saying ‘watch this’

has phil ever gotten this frustrated with gwf lmao

‘bollocks’ as if that’s a thing they say

just kiss him phil goddamn i mean u wanna win right what better way to throw him off his game

why did maximum yeet have to become a thing i s2g

‘why am i helping’ bc u have absolutely no willpower and u want phil to be happy bc it makes u happy that’s why

why,,,,,,,why does everything satisfying have to be sexual phil, why. just. why. and then? golf gone sexual? as if that’s not a better title for the goddamn vid than ‘battle for the booty’ at least it’s accurate??? ‘battle for the booty’ i expect them dueling irl over who gets to top next or some shit that is why u call a vid ‘battle for the booty’

dan,,,,,,pls let ur bf make the weird noises okay

hi sorry what the Fuck is this

is that meant to be a monkey or some shit like what???????

that is a skeleton pirate thing what the hell

why does he have such a long face

idk they cute when they look at each other like they're like having a serious convo even tho they aren’t (although i wouldn’t be shocked if making puns is an important point of communication between them)

also fun fact i heard phil saying ‘jewel’ for the first like five times instead of duel

phil, realizing he’s said something he shouldn’t have

a cute

hi once again i love them

phil doing his face covering thing why does he always look at least 3x cuter when he’s doing it whilst staring at dan

‘i got the octopus, he’s gonna marry me, we’re gonna have tentacle hooked babies with parrots on the crib’

same dan same

and then he turns around n says ‘spank me with a plank and call me poopy susan’ wtf is wrong with them

‘u love a good tentacle don’t u’ show me where i asked

dan, actually considering how that would feel with all the tentacles:

how did they go from phil saying ‘you love a good tentacle’ to saying ‘(you/we) should get some of those’ to dan saying ‘no, you shouldn’t’ like uhm. wot

this

[ongly]

Canvas.

The one where Y/N is a painter and shares her kind of art with Shawn.

This one was requested by an anon. It wasn’t a specific request so I took the chance to write it my way. I am sorry if it isn’t what you expected and I am sorry it took me sooooo long to post! I have been a little off lately so I hope you like it and I hope it, somehow, makes up for my lazy ass! I had fun writing this and it’s possibly one of my own favorites by far. I loved this concept. I really hope you enjoy reading and understand everything. I was really inspired so I am a little scared something goes wrong with this one. I didn’t edit it so I apologize for my lazy english. I really, really, really hope you like it. Xxx

 Your eyes were gazing around the crowded room, your shoulders back and your neck so extended you could swear your skin was almost ripping. It shouldn’t be this hard to find your boyfriend in a crowded room for many and various reasons.

“Congratulations, Y/N.” Someone sounded from your side, touching your arm gently.

Your turned your head to the side to see a smiling  couple. You turned yourself to them and thanked them although you had never seen them fatter in your life. They explained they were leaving and you were still clueless why they were excusing themselves. It was the third time, you guessed, that this had happened to you. You watched them leave and took a deep breath before facing the room again. Everyone was smiling at you. The room was filled with strangers. Strangers who appreciated you through splashed canvas, you finally exposed to their argumentative minds.

After several years of hardworking you were finally seeing your art giving life to these white, immaculate walls. You still couldn’t believe you were at your own exhibition. As your turned your body around, your gaze taking in every person’s eye, looking for a tiny critic. They all seemed amazed and you’ve never felt happier. It felt like everyone was inside your mind, wandering around the different corners of your brain, commenting on your imagination and criticizing the evolution of your own self as they took in your world. It was a dream and everyone in that gallery was walking and sitting in it. They were appreciating the elements you stood up for. You instantly wanted to paint what you saw, so that you could share the happiness you couldn’t put into words.

You spot Shawn’s parents from across the room and they give you a small wave. You smile, turning your gaze to the ground when you felt your cheeks heating up. You took your, slightly cooler, fingers and touched the side of your cheek. You looked back up to face them to notice Karen walking towards you. She had the warmest smile. You let out a giggle as she extended her hands, reaching out for yours. She held your hands firmly, playing around with the soft skin of their back as she rubbed her thumbs in circles. She looked at you in adoration.

“I am so proud of you, darling.” She almost whispered, taking a step closer to you. You nodded in disbelief and looked down a little.

“Thank you so much for coming.” You said, looking back up at her. You swore she was tearing up. “It means a lot to have you here, after all you’ve done for me.” You shrugged, trying to explain.

The gallery you were at belonged to one of Karen’s old friend. He happened to be one an art critic, who had bought a few of your paintings. You’ve been trying hard to thank Karen throughout the whole night, but it felt like nothing was enough to thank her that much.

Karen instantly started nodding.

“Yes, yes!” You insisted, trying to explain yourself again. “I owe everything to you.” You leaned in, holding her hands strongly. She kept nodding.

“You made this possible, darling.” She smiled at you. She let go one of your hands, taking hers up to stroke your cheek gently. You tilted your head to the side, leaning against her palm. “Y/N I want you to remember this day, no matter what course your life takes and whenever you feel down. You’ve brought glorious technicolor to our lives and I hope I didn’t take it for granted.” She smiled, taking her hand down to hold your again. You nodded, smiling at her. “I don’t think I did, but we are the ones who owe you everything, for everything you’ve become to Shawn, and to us...” You didn’t let her go further. You got closer to her when she opened her arms to take you in her embrace.

“I will keep this day in my memory as the happiest of them all. Thank you so much.” You quietly said, smiling. You heard her let out a joyful laugh as she rubber her hands around your bareless back. You pulled away and she planted a small peck on your cheek.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, sweetheart.” She smiled and let go of your hands. You thanked her, for what it looked like, the thousandth time and heard her commenting something about losing Manny and you quickly looked around looking for your man as well, momentarily forgetting why you had walked into that room again.

You took a few steps soon to be held by two strong arms, wrapping around your waist, making your body turn. You faced Shawn and smiled, your hands on his shoulders, sliding up to rest on the back of his neck. He leaned in, still swaying both of your bodies from the sudden impact. You giggled as he pouted, leaning down to plant a warm kiss on your lips.

You rushed your fingers through his hair and breathed in his scent, before pulling back to look at him. He was wearing his famous rosy cheeks and the biggest smile.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” You whined, dropping your hands to his arms, holding each of his forearms as he pulled you closer to him. One of his hand was marking a warm spot on your back and the other met the ends of your dress, near your bum.

“I was bragging about my girlfriend and her art to a few friends.” He smiled. You let out a giggle.

You looked up at his smile. You could tell he was purely happy which only filled your heart with more love. There were no words to describe what he meat to you. No possible sentence construction that had, grammatically corrected, enough adjectives to characterize what you saw in him, within the rush of feelings and emotions he sent to you. No other way than to show him.

“I want to show you something.” Your voice came in a breath, loud enough for him to listen though.

He nodded and you wrapped your arm around your own waist, reaching out for his hand, behind your back, holding it and intertwining your fingers with his, walking out of that room as he followed, holding your hand back.

You walked around the gallery, shooting smiles at every person that approached you, congratulating you on your work. Shawn would proudly respond himself and you could swear he was drooling whenever he spoke. You hoped it didn’t come out impolite of you, but you rushed out of those little chats, pulling Shawn with you.

You took him to the stairs, leading the way as you took every step slowly, your high heels already torturing you and your feet pleading for help.

“You know where you’re going, right?” You heard Shawn. You stopped when you reached the first floor and looked down at him.

You smiled at him and he wrapped one arm around your waist when he reached the top of the stairs as well. You walked into room, three people passing by the two of  you, smiling and exiting that room.

The room was empty in that moment. You walked to the middle of the room, feeling Shawn’s arm drop once he faced the painting.

“I wanted this one to be a bit more private.” You stated, your voice echoing in the empty room. You walked towards the painting, taking a good look at one of your latest and hardest works.

Not everyone knew about this one. You had, purposely, talked to the owner of the gallery to have this painting in a specific room. Once he saw it, he totally agreed.

You took a few steps to the side, looking over your shoulders to see Shawn’s lips parted, eyes wide as he observed his own painting. You smiled and looked back at the painting. You had had this image in your mind since you first saw him live in an arena, a few days after you two celebrated your first year together. You took in every inch of the painting. You used many different colors, not wanting it to be just another portrait. You wanted it to be special. To have a little of yourself in it, so you gave everything you had in yourself, using the colors and adding some texture, so that whenever you looked at it, you could feel like you were there again. Your best memory, until that day, which you had the possibility of sharing with Shawn again.

You took a deep breath, standing on the side of the painting, intertwining your fingers as you joined your hands together, nervously. Shawn was speechless.

He measured every inch of that painting, memorizing every color and every line and counter, like he was, for the first time, seeing what he looked like from  your point of view. He was actually breathless. His eyes traveled around the painting, stopping at a small paper, hanging beside it. He read his own name in the cation and he still couldn’t believe it as he read:

‘Forgive me if what has seemed little to you, to me is all. To Shawn, who wasn’t born yet, and who’s presence tarried to take its notice in my life.’

“You know..” You started, your voice cracked. You cleared your throat. You felt Shawn’s gaze on you and then switching to the painting in front of him quickly, over and over again. You took a deep breath and locked your eyes on the painting again. “You know that feeling of hope to find the right person for your life?” You looked at him for a second, his mouth was slight slightly opened. You turned back to the painting and smiled a little. “I’ve always felt it.  I’ve always felt hopeful to find that person and when you came into my life it was simply unbelievable, because you are everything I’ve always wanted, everything I’ve always asked for.” You nodded, looking down, trying to explain what got you to paint him this way. You looked up to the painting again, admiring it, trying your best to put it into words “This charming, humble boy, with an extraordinary smile. You always seem to amaze me, you know?” You looked at Shawn now. He didn’t take his eyes off the painting but you knew he was listening to you attentively as you spoke. Your eyes followed his moves. He extended one of his arms and let his fingertips slide down the painting, feeling it. “That thing you have of becoming even more beautiful, out of nowhere. Whenever you bowed your head stepping away from the microphone, playing the guitar and then looked through the crowd, your eyes always ending up on landing on me, and you just stood there, playing the guitar and looking at me and I couldn’t help but smile because I would stand there, statically looking at you, and you would just mouth me that stupidly cute ‘what’ and I’d just smile, thinking to myself: ‘what an amazing man I have.’” Your voice cracked in the end. You cleared your throat once more.

Shawn let his hand fall on his side again and turned to you. He still didn’t say a word, and you didn’t let him as you continued to explain yourself.

“And when... when just waking up to your phone calls or text messages is simply the best thing. Your simple aptness of doing it always amazed me. It always had me desiring you more and more.” You nodded and he took a few steps closer to you, a smile starting to form on his lips. You shrugged. “And everything I’ve always wanted was to whisper in your ear for you to hold my hand and never let go. Because I’m going to take care of you in every second.”

Shawn reached out for your hand and you could feel the sparkle growing as he wrapped his fingers around yours. You looked up at him as he smiled. He nodded in disbelief.

“I am so proud of you, you have no idea.” His voice was soft.

You smiled, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You looked down, feeling the heat on your cheeks grow. You saw Shawn’s hand letting go of yours, taking it to place it against your cheek sweetly. He rubbed his thumb against it, softly forcing you to look back at him. You parted your lips once you took his appearance.

“Hey..” You whispered, taking a step closer to him. “You’re crying.” You whined. throwing your arms around his neck, his hand dropping from your cheek as he placed it on your waist, holding you close to him. “Baby..” You were worried now. “I didn’t mean i...” He quickly cut you off, nodding.

“No.. I know honey, it’s totally not that. I’ve...” He stuttered, trying to explain himself. “I just feel so sad that you are so clueless of how much love I feel for you. I wish I could put it out there, just like you did.” He whispered. You looked at him, taking one hand closer to his face, your thumb running along his cheek, drying a tear that had escaped his eye. You let out a chuckle and looked up at him as he said: “But there’s no kind of art that would overlap the way you look in my arms. You’re the most beautiful work of art of them all and I hope I don’t take you for granted, ever.” You smiled, your eyes sparkling as you took his appearance, the one you talked about earlier. Your famous bright smiled. That right there was his next hit single.

I promise I’ll edit it later to make it better

[my-chemical-friendzone]

Threes a Crowd: Book v Episode

Hello~! So recently I bought the novelization of Three’s a Crowd, and I just wanted to share some points and quotes that I thought were interesting :D There were also quite a few differences between the show and the book! Nothing big, but at least notable. 

First of all let me just say this book is THIN LMAO. I was maybe expecting a bit more girth, but it didn’t disappoint either way.

*In the beginning of the book there’s actually two or so pages dedicated to introducing the characters, and let me just say that the pictures they have of the 3D models (the same ones you see on the show) are crystal clear! I don’t know, it might just be me, but because the show does use certain textures, it can be hard to see small details on clothing and backgrounds. But the book doesn’t have the textures in the beginning pages and I was just impressed by how clear and smooth everyone looked (I finally saw that YES Pepper doesn’t have a tooth gap LOL). The rest of the images in the book have a sort of Photoshop filter on them, and they’re either from the episode or an edit of character models. Just wanted to mention that, but I digress. 

Jane’s rage: I know that my girl Jane is pretty angry and hotheaded (which I love because bitch me too LOL), but the book really adds to that level of rage in a more specific way. There’s a couple quotes here I really liked:

“Dragon and Gunther fell to the ground in a fit of hysterics. Even Rake started to laugh. But he stopped when he saw Jane’s expression, the one she reserved for naughty children and animals.” /Jane doesn’t like animals it seems? Only Dragon presumably./

“Jane glared at him. ‘It is. How did you know?’” 

“[Dragon] ‘Because you hands are on your hips. And you always put your hands on your hips when you are going to be boring and serious. You get it from your mother.’”

“‘I do not!’ But he was right. Her hands were crunched into fists and planted on her hips. Exactly like her mother.” /Dragon comparing Jane to her mother was--I think--the biggest burn he has ever made LOL. But I think we all knew that Jane was actually very much like her mother in a way./

[Scene after Merchant tricks Jane’s dad to pay more for work he isn’t going to do] ”Watching this horrible man cheat her father made Jane’s blood boil. Sometimes she wished she could break the law rather than uphold it. Just for once she would like to use her big green friend to teach this greedy bog weevil a lesson.” /I found this incredibly interesting! Because Jane is so hellbent on being honorable and just, but she gets angry to the point of wanting to throw all of that out the window and even use Dragon to threaten someone. It’s very human of her, and I like that a lot./

[After Gunther & Magnus discuss using Dragon for their chores] “Watching from her hiding place, Jane bubbled with anger. She could hardly believe it. No, that wasn't true. It was very easy to believe. She had never trusted Gunther.” /It’s funny to me how Jane can kind of not see that Gunther is somewhat hesitant to use Dragon? And he doesn’t really want to, and only does it because his dad persuades him to do it. But Gunther is also not trustworthy in general. But I’ll touch on this later too./

Pepper’s quote: Speaking of Gunther ~ There’s this small quote from Pepper when she’s talking with Jane in the kitchen that I thought was very telling. 

“Gunther needs good friends, Jane. He has a rough time with that father of his.” /OK FIRST OF ALL--MY HOME GIRL. LOOK AT HER LOOKING OUT FOR MY SON IN THIS WAY. MY EMOTIONS. SHAKEN. But no seriously--what? In the book it seems like everyone kind of knows that Gunther is being abused by his father. I know they make a reference to it in the show, but it’s in the very ‘ha ha’ joking kind of way. But the way Pepper says it in context, it sounds like she feels sympathy for Gunther. Which is bizarre because she’s probably one of the characters that’s gotten the fewest words exchanged with him. But I think it goes to show that not only is Pepper a very empathetic character, who’s more insightful than she leads on, but also that Gunther’s problem may be a village known matter. But no one is really doing anything about it (then again, it’s the Middle Ages so it’s not like anyone can or would do anything regarding the matter). Or perhaps they all just assume that Gunther is just overworked by his father, who also happens to be a big douche, but they don’t exactly suspect abuse per-se. They seem to make references to Gunther working a lot, but don’t really go beyond that. It’s very nuanced. Also, GUNTHER NEEDS GOOD FRIENDS./

Magnus & Gunther: I think the most surprising thing about reading the book was seeing how blatant Magnus’ abuse of Gunther was. In the show it’s far more discreet, but in the book Gunther is simply terrified of his dad! Magnus’ tone is also much harsher, not just his quiet, disapproving voice. 

“’Put your back into it, you lazy lump!’ Gunther’s father slammed the side of his wagon with a thick fist.”

“’Father, must all these barrels go today? I have duties at the castle.’

The Merchant scowled at him. ‘Your first duty is to me. Now get on with it!’”

[Gunther to Dragon] “’Go away,’ he whispered. ‘I’m busy. I still have to park the wagon around back and...and...Father will punish me if he finds you here.’” /holy hell/ 

“But Dragon ignored him. He flew over the house and disappeared.

Gunther shrank back as his father turned and fixed his anger on him. 

‘What did I tell you? That overgrown worm is nothing but a thief!’

Gunther began to apologize. But...” 

“Dragon watched him go and nudged Gunther. ‘So, what’s big and sulky and walks like a frog?’

‘Shhh, he can hear you,’ whispered Gunther. ‘Come on, I should go before he finds more jobs for me.’ /FFFFFFFFFFFF. This broke my heart because in the show Gunther actually snickers at the joke and elbows Dragon and I really love that moment but in the book he’s so freakin terrified that he can’t even bring himself to try to laugh!/ 

AND THEN THERE’S THIS LINE

“He [Magnus] slammed the door behind him. Gunther watched Dragon drop out of sight over the castle walls.

‘If only I could fly off like that,’ he thought.”

Gunther & Dragon: Gunther and Dragon are actually a lot meaner to Jane in the book! In the show they were actually NICE I’d say x’D Jane didn’t deserve half of the sass Gunther and Dragon gave her. Tbh Gunther did deserve to have his ass beat by her in the novelization. 

“’Wait for me,’ she yelled, hurrying to catch them. ‘I want to hear your jokes.’ 

Gunther dismissed her with a snort. ‘I doubt it, Jane. That would take a sense of humor, The last time I looked, yours had been stolen by villains.’” /Jane proceeds to make some very bad jokes. I cringed/ 

“‘A royal turd!’ said Jane.

‘Is that it?’ asked Dragon.

Gunther grinned and shook his head sadly.” /icri/

[Gunther to Jane after she threatens to expose him] “’Yes, Jane. What have you come to tell him? Another joke perhaps? A funny one this time? Oh, wait; I know. Tell Dragon the joke about the girl with egg on her face.’” /there’s a lot more of Jane getting wrecked in this book, from the both of them OTL/

Then Janther bants (BECAUSE I JUST HAVE TO): 

“’A poo-doll. Get it Jane?’ Gunther whispered so Sir Theodore wouldn't hear. ‘Oh wait. I forgot. You have no funny bone do you?”

‘I have plenty of bones, Gunther,’ she whispered back at him. ‘And right now all of them are waiting to dance rings around you. Are you ready for a whipping?’ /winks/

‘Now that really is a joke,’ hissed Gunther.”

“‘Is that the best you can do, Jane?’

‘No Gunther. I would never waste my best moves on you. But then I never have to.’“

Jane winning the fight: Jane doesn’t win the fight the way she does in the show. She actually ends up tripping Gunther after she’s got the advantage! Which is so unlike her but also just savage as hell LMAO.

“And with that she advanced, delivering a flurry of steady blows. Gunther was forced backwards, He managed a counter-move, lunging at Jane. But he overreached. Jane saw her chance. She sidestepped. Gunther lost his balance as Jane stuck out a foot to trip him headfirst into the dirt. 

‘Gunther. How can I keep scoring points if you lie around down there?’”

/RIP Gunther. You left the way you came./

Jane’s apology: Since we never actually got to see it in the show, here it is!

[She’s rehearsing it to Jester first] “’Gunther I have behaved badly. And not in the best tradition of the Knight's Code.’ She paused to check on Jester’s reaction. Her friend raised an eyebrow and said nothing. Jane carried on.’So it is with my most sincere apology that I ask for your forgiveness. And for the opportunity to regain your trust and your friendship.’” /Jester proceeds to laugh uncontrollably, thinking it’s a joke. LOL/ 

Dragon’s boulder: I’m not going to quote the whole conversation, but in the show it makes it seem like Dragon is going to drop the boudler on Gunther’s house, and that may kill someone but he doesn’t care. Still it just skirts over that it might kill someone, and he’s really looking to do some home damage, and kind of ruin Gunther’s life. BUT in the book dragon is VERY clear about wanting to kill Gunther. He is deadass like ‘I’m just going to smash him with this rock Jane wtf B)’ LOL. I was shook beyond belief. 

The ending scene: Oh boy so much to say! So in the show, what Dragon does is he kind of advances towards Magnus & Gunther with the boulder in his hand, but he doesn’t throw it, he just makes them stumble backwards and throws the boulder in the water. But in the book he just THROWS THE BOULDER AT THEM BOWLING BALL STYLE. LMAO. He just chucks it right at them. In the show, when Gunther sees Dragon coming towards them, he just moves out of the way and leaves Magnus behind (i laughed way too hard when I saw that), but in the book he SAVES HIS LIFE. HE PUSHES HIM OUT OF THE WAY THEN JUMPS.

HE. DOESN’T. DESERVE. YOU. GUNTHER.

Anyways! OF COURSE Magnus blames the whole thing on Gunther, but Gunther feels a sense of humor and relief, much like in the show, only much cuter. 

“Gunther stood up and grinned at the mess [there was herring everywhere]. ‘Well Father. That was a very good shot for such a stupid beast.’

Still sprawled on his stomach, the Merchant glared up at his son. ‘What is so funny, boy? This has cost us a month’s profit.’

But Gunther couldn’t help himself. The sight of his father on his knees, turning purple with rage, was too much for him. He burst into a fit of giggles and had to clamp a hand over his mouth. Jane and Dragon circled back overhead, and Gunther gave them a small wave. Then he ran off along the wharf before his giggles turned into a hopeless laughing fit.’”

/my sweet son/

Jane then says this: This is the point I wanted to make earlier. 

“‘Poor Gunther,’ said Jane. ‘He is going to have a list of jobs as long as his fahter’s face when this is over.’

‘Good,’ said Dragon. ‘He deserves it.’

‘Maybe. ...’ /I found this completely bizarre? Because on one hand Jane can’t stand Gunther let alone trust him or socialize with him, and then on the other, after knowing he was using Dragon, she feels bad for him? I think this goes back to the fact that everyone kind of knows something’s up with Gunther and his Father, and how Jane knows that whenever Magnus is angry, Gunther is going to be punished for it. So to an extent, Jane doesn’t really understand but to another she kind of does, and she sympathizes with him. Like she can sometimes tell it isn’t just him being that way, its his dad. It’s small moment of nuanced clarity like this that make this book (and the show) so interesting! 

Anyways, that’s all I had to say :D I hope you enjoyed it!

[dmvisbot]

PHOENIX.WAD Author: Gurkha Boy Date: 04/11/00 Description: 5-level set with a tech-base theme, using Quake2 textures, new sprites, and a cool new sky. While not truly a hub-type of structure, these levels are interconnected. Let's call it a quasi-hub structure, 'kay? (Read Notes, below.)0417 hours, March 23, 2056: An observer at a listening post in the Jean-Pierre Maisson Observatory in Vichy, France, receives a terse voice-only message from the Deimos Station orbiting Mars -- "Something has activated the anomalies. It wasn't us; it must have been them. We are monitoring the situation, and we believe we are fully prepared." That was the last transmission received from Deimos.March 25, 2056: Several military and research satellites orbiting Earth disappear from sensors, and mysterious communications and power disruptions are detected on the Einstein Orbiting Platform, the Copernicus Array, and other unmanned space stations.0142 hours, March 26, 2056: Garbled holo-messages are received from the Erwin Rommel Geo-Stat Military Weapons Post. The only decipherable phrase is "Mein Gott! So viel! Was konnen wir tun? Alles is abgefucked!!", Deutsch for "Jesus! There's too many of them! We're screwed!" Minutes later similar communiques are received from several other GMW orbital posts. By the end of the day military installations on every continent and the Arctic are under full-scale assault from what can only be described as a hellish force.1030 hours, March 27, 2056: A hastily-scheduled meeting is called between the Chairman of the Organization of Galactic Research & Exploration (OGRE) and the Commanding General of the Inter-Planetary Defense Alliance. The agenda -- a counterstrike using newly- developed plasma weapons. The Chairman urges restraint. "Lets study them first," he argues. "This is a unique opportunity to examine ET life-forms. Your plasma weapons may leave nothing but carbon residue." "Good!" replies the General. "Then all we'll need to do is mop up the floor with water and a bucket!"1400 hours, March 28, 2056. Rockport Command Center, somewhere in the Canadian Rockies: Brig. General Ed Stone summons four personnel to his bunker. "I'll be brief," he barks. "I don't see any way out of this mess. We've had no time to mobilize armor, so it's been hand-to-hand. Plus they got to our fly-boys too, so we got no air cover. Even with the experimental plasma shooters we've got shit. They outnumber us fifty to one, and now I'm getting reports of some big-ass suckers that are tough as nails and shove rockets where the sun don't shine. I need volunteers for the Sleep Room. Now I know we've never tried putting anyone into stasis before, but the egg-heads in the lab guarantee it'll work. The plan is to bring your metabolism and vital signs so low that it can't be detected by normal means. For practical purposes you'll be dead; and that may be enough for those bastards to leave you alone. We'll set the timers to bring you out of stasis in a year. Then it'll be up to you to do what you can. Volunteers at dozens of installations throughout the world are undergoing the same "procedure". Maybe you can organize some sort of resistance movement. If you make it out."Keep in mind that we're going to scramble our security protocols and you'll be reduced to alpha-level clearance only. Clean up the joint if you can, and then your best bet is to try to make it to the Comm. Center to contact the others. Then get to the Shuttle Port and fly the hell out of here. You four are our best. I don't know what you'll face when you wake up, but I don't think I want to be in your boots."0630 hrs, April 1, 2057. Rockport Command Center: A computer console above the Stasis Chamber comes softly to life. A light blinks, the console beeps, and the glass cover of a stasis module slides noiselessly open .....Map_01 -- Out of Stasis Entry-level type map, where you figure out a way to gain entry to the installation. Practice your jumping skills.Map_02 -- The Smell of Death Explore the waste tunnels, sewage treatment, and hazmat processing.Map_03 -- Daylight Again Exit the Waste Area and run for cover. Blaze through Power Generation on your way to the Supply Station, and finally into the Installation.Map_04 -- Theater Ops. Basic Training. Armored Assault. Arena Combat. 'Nuff said.Map_05 -- Flight of the Phoenix Re-enter the installation, wreak havoc in Research, arm yourself in Weapons Systems, find your way back into the Stasis Chamber, phone home in the Comm. Center, and finally rev up those engines in the Shuttle Port.Notes: All the levels are set in a single military installation. Therefore in some maps you will see inaccessible areas, or doors that cannot be opened. Most of these areas/doors are accessible in later levels. All maps are original. However, in Map_04 I have "adapted" areas from two of my earlier levels. ("Lazy?!! You callin' me lazy? Ah, well, you're probably right.") I take credit/flames for three sprites (in the Stasis Chamber at the beginning of the game), and for most of the signs. The original Q2Tex.wad contained signs for "Warehouse", and "Supply Station". Using these as templates in MS Paint, I edited the letters to create new letters, but mostly I cut and pasted to create 14 new signs.The demos were created with ZDooM V1.22. Pistol start with 100% secrets & kills. To view them, use ZDLaunch. Otherwise, load Phoenix.wad in ZDooM v1.22, bring up the console (use the ~ key) and type: playdemo demoxx.lmp where xx is the map number (i.e., 01, 02, etc.) If you're playing a demo and try to load another demo, the second demo gets screwed up. Exit the first demo before loading up another.

[finesseandbones-blog]

Chapter 5

-- Day 3 Of Nostalgic Nightmare --

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M a y   1 7 ,  2 0 3 X

8 : 4 5   P . M .

S a n s '   R e s i d e n c e , M o n s t e r  B a s e

L o c a t i o n   u n k n o w n

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

-- (BACK TO YOUR POV) --

I woke up with a body ache as my eyes try to regain my normal eyesight.

I was expecting that I'm back at my prison room, where Sans used to imprison me.

But I didn't wake up in there.

I woke up in a bed, a comfy one.

Regaining my energy, I tried stretching my arms and legs, but ended myself up suffering in pain.

Then I realized that my clothes were changed.

DID THAT FUCKTARD CHANGED ME LAST NIGHT?

That perverted imbecile.

I quickly tried to sit, but all these muscle pain triggered and guess what, I failed to do so.

While suffering from the pain, Sans came in with pills and my breakfast in a tray.

"Good morning, cookie. Did ya sleep well?" He asked while putting down my breakfast beside me.

My breakfast are newly cooked waffles with syrup and a tall glass of milk.

Damn this is delicious. Never expected this from a crazy ass skeleton.

"Still aching everywhere. Can't even make myself move." I replied weakly as he chuckled.

"Here, let me help you ; nice and slow." He walked beside me and supported my back and the back of my thighs with his hands.

When he attempted to carry me, I felt a sudden jolt of pain as I groaned and closed my eyes.

"Are you okay?" He assures me as he caressed my back.

"Yeah, I guess." I mumbled as he continued to help me sit up.

After seconds of pain and suffering, I successfully sat down in the bed with my back leaning against the pillow and my lower part resting on his bed.

"Okay. Can you feed yourself?" He asks as he settles my breakfast in a tray on my lap.

"I d-don't know. My body's really painful." I groaned as he sat beside me on the edge of his bed.

He grabbed the fork and knife beside my plate and started slicing the waffles into medium pieces that are small enough for my mouth to munch.

"Open wide, babe." He commanded as I opened my mouth to get a bite of his delicious art

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M a y   1 7 ,  2 0 3 X

9 : 1 8  P . M .

S a n s '  B e d r o o m ,  S a n s '   R e s i d e n c e ,   M o n s t e r  B a s e

L o c a t i o n   u n k n o w n

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

After finishing my meal and taking my medicine, Sans and I had a little conversation.

"So, uh, do you think that this war will end?" I asked.

"I'm not sure, but heck am I tired of doing this." He ranted.

"Tired of what?"

"Of-" His phone suddenly rang as he picked it up from a small table and answered it.

"Hello?"

"She's not fine. She attempted to escape but a part of Undyne's army attacked her to make sure she was weak enough."

"Yeah, weak enough to KILL HER!"

"What do you mean I need to bring her there? Alphys, she's weak and when she tries to move a limb, she'll lose her mind from the pain!"

This imbecile is strangely thoughtful...

and who the hell is Alphys?

"Use a wheelchair? I seriously can't move her limbs remember?! Hey, look. Don't be sad because I am mad at you, okay?"

"Oh, she urgently requested? heh. okay. I'll talk to her instead. Okay?"

"Bye." He ended the call with this 'Alphys' thing

"Who was that?"

"It was Alphys. I'll explain to you later who she is. Right now, I need to call someone else. Excuse me for a minute."

He stood up and walked to the door but he stopped.

"Wait. You'll end up getting bored in here. I might take long but I'll let you watch a movie." He said as he grabbed a cd compiler

(AN: Those circular thing with jean-ish texture and a zipper and when you open it, you'll see cds)

He scanned through the compiler as he smirked and pulled out a cd.

You bitch don't tell me you're going to let me watch something kids wouldn't watch.

"This is one of my favorite movies. It's 10 Things I Hate About You. You'll enjoy it. I promise."

He turned on the television and the cd player and inserted the cd inside of it, then the opening started playing.

"There we go, I'll be back soon, I promise." He smiled as he left me all alone in his room.

Oh boy.

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M a y   1 7 ,  2 0 3 X

9 : 3 6  P . M .

S a n s '   R e s i d e n c e , M o n s t e r   B a s e

L o c a t i o n   u n k n o w n

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

-- Sans' POV --

I rushed to my living room and dialed Undyne's number on my phone.

"HELLO, THIS IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS SPEAKING, HOW MAY I-"

 Oh, wait. I forgot that Papyrus is her "secretary".  

"Hey, Pap. I need to talk to Undyne right now."

"OH! HELLO BROTHER! WAIT A SECOND."

(Background sounds)

"UNDYNE! UNDYNE! SANS WOULD WANT TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH YOU RIGHT NOW!"

"GIVE ME A MINUTE, PAP!"

*mumbles something that I can't quite hear*

"What the hell do you want, G?"

"ARE YOU FUCKING-"

Contain yourself, G.

I inhaled as I gave out my best tone.

"Look, the human is badly injured, can you give us a couple of weeks for her to-"

"A COUPLE OF WEEKS? G, ARE YOU SERIOUS? MY ARMY IS GETTING TIRED OF LISTENING TO THE SAME LESSONS OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND MY ARMY'S DECREASING AT POPULATION COUNT! Who knows, some cunt killed a part of them." She shouted, making me throw my phone on the floor.

Thank Asgore that this phone is "surface-proof".

"I know and STOP SCREAMING"

Actually, I'm the cunt who killed one part of your army, Undyne just to keep the lady safe so uhm, yeah. I know.

"But, if it's okay with you and Alphys, can you please try to make Mettaton go here, or maybe Alphys can come too." I hesitantly requested.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS, G? YOUR HOUSE IS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HUMAN'S BASE! YOU'RE JUST COVERING UP IN THERE TO CAPTURE HUMANS LIKE THAT NITWIT YOU HAVE THERE!"

"For your information, I kinda teleported the whole house to the monster base and STOP SCREAMING IN THE NAME OF ASGORE!

She's not a nitwit! She's fragile and brave. All that she wanted is for this war to end like the other humans desire. Just, please. She's too weak. We're on the surface so food won't heal her that much, even the surface CORE won't do much."

I'd dare not to say this but, Undyne. If you consider her kind as nitwits, then fuck me; she's the bravest and most amazing nit wit ever.

"Wow. That was fast. Okay, fine. I'll give you 3 weeks. After that, I'll send Alphys and Mettaton there. Take care of her with all your dignity. I'll-"

"Christ, Undyne. Stop with those corny-ass speeches. Papyrus will end up training you with his greatness."

"Whatever. Oh and I'll send the Dummy and Muffet there to keep her company. Sounds good?"

FINALLY!

"Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks, Dyne!"

"Don't call me that!" Heh, must be irritated.

"Ok. Sure, whatever. Welp, gotta check how she's doing. See ya."

"See ya, lazy wondernerd."

Muffet.

MUFFET!

"Wait! Undyne!"

"What?!"

"How's Muffet doing? I accidentally crushed her because of my lazers before I kidnapped the human."

"Oh, she's been recovering. When Cake knew about the accident, Cake told me that If she ever saw you again, She'll swear to Asgore she will kill you."

"Oh, I am sooo scared huhu. Anyways, See you soon!"

"She wasn't joking, actually. Cake can get really vicious and relentless than Muffet."

"Yeah I am aware of that. I really need to go now. Bye!"

"Bye again."

Bless this angry fish, Asgore. Bless that fish.

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

M a y   1 7 ,   2 0 3 X

9 : 4 5   P . M .

T h e   K i t c h e n

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

After my heated conversation with Undyne, I plan to make the human's dinner for tonight.

I don't feel hungry that much but I'm sure that the human's hungry.

I chopped some onions, garlic, bell peppers and mushrooms. I started preheating a pan and a pot of water and opened a pack of pasta. If Pap ever had teleporting powers like mine, Oh he will want some of these and run around while shouting "GOOD SHIT" in every angle of the house.

(TIME SKIP LOOOOL)

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M a y   1 7 ,   2 0 3 X

1 0 : 1 3   P . M .

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After the cooking process has been done, I did some plating stuff and made sure it's worth her health. I grabbed her pills and a glass of water and placed it on the tray. I grabbed the tray and went back to my room. I opened the door with my powers.

As I opened the door, I saw her still in the same position, still watching the same movie but in a different scene. This is the scene where Kat volunteers to dictate her poem (that was dedicated to Patrick) in class.

"Hey sweetcheeks! How are you doing?" I asked her.

"I feel sad for Kat because she thinks that Patrick was playing her feelings! Buuuut on the other hand, I blame Joey for being a dickass."

"Heh, same here. I'll prepare a box of tissue in case you'll cry on the next thing that will happen."

"What do you mean?"

I pointed my finger on the tv as Kat started her poem:

" I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.

I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much that it makes me sick. It even makes me rhyme.

I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh, Even worse when you make me cry. "

Prue started tearing up as I chuckled a bit. She looks so fucking cute.

"What's so funny?" She angrily asked me as I smiled

"Nothing, nothing. I remembered something." I remembered you being the cutest fucker when I first talked to you.

She scoffed as she continued watching the tear jerking scene.

" I hate the way you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. "

After Kat ran out of class (in the movie), I glared at Prue, all wet with her tears.

I chuckled a bit.

But I asked myself;

Will she love me back?

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

EDITED!

- Lennie x

P.S. 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU IS A GOOD MOVIE. WATCH IT HAHAHA

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Chapter 4

Chapter 6

[el-vicio-us]

Gonerfest 13 (2016)

I'm in the homestretch of completing the photos from Gonerfest 14/XIV/2017, so in preparation for that, I'm going to pull last year's Gonerfest review out of the archives and post that.

I wrote about and photographed it for Razorcake last year.

I'd clean up and edit the piece before posting it, but I feel like I'd never run out of edits and corrections, so the text is presented in toto.

To read it with captioned photos and embedded samples of some of the bands listed, go to the Razorcake page. [Yeah, I linked it twice. What.]

Links to additional photos of the bands at Gonerfest 13:

Aquarian Blood

Black Lips

Blind Shake

Bloodshot Bill

Chook Race

Control Freaks

Counter Intuits

Fred and Toody

Hash Redactor

Iron Head

Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds

Midnite Snaxxx

NOTS

Oh Boland

Opposite Sex

Pity

Power

Reigning Sound

Spray Paint

Useless Eaters

Rev. John Wilkins

So here, and so there:

In 2005, a couple of friends and I skipped out on college for a week to drive from upstate New York down to Memphis for Gonerfest II.

This year, I went again.

Pulling into the hotel lot after six-or-so hours of driving from one end of Tennessee to the other, I felt flashes of recognition as my surroundings aligned and overlapped with memories lying dormant, the distant cousin to déjà vu commonly referred to as, “remembering something.”

I drove past the outdoor pool, vividly recalling it as the place my comrades tried to baptize themselves back to sanity after a night of paranoia and hallucination wrought by their decision to partake in an impromptu fungal communion shared at the Armory after-party while Kajun SS and Evil Army performed.

We had the bright idea to spend that night sleeping in the van in order to save money on hotel rooms, but in lieu of wiggling our toes in the quicksands of dreamland, these guys had to sleepwalk through their own respective psilocybin nightmares while I clung to the grass and tried to let my equilibrium catch up to the way the world was spinning.

This time around, I was here to photograph, try to lock some things up in my long term memory for later use, and my only vices would be caffeinated beverages and late-night Taco Bell.

On Thursday afternoon, I got to the Goner Records store just in time to get manacled with a weekend pass wristband and given a Gonerfest XIII bag along with a seven-inch (with “Blood on the Line” by Aquarian Blood on one side, and “Demarche Fauve” by Couteau Latex on the other). I briefly peeped into the bargain bin where I had found a copy of a friend’s band’s LP when I had last come through. Months before, I was in the Goner store at the ass end of a road trip out West.  I’d found two copies, told him as much via text while in the store, and he immediately replied with a plea that I buy them so he wouldn’t have to see them there when he came down next. I’d bought one. The other was still there.

Once outside the store and on the corner of Cooper and Young, I had enough time to switch out lenses, second guess myself, rearrange them on the camera bodies, and repeat the act once more. To an outside observer, I imagine it looked a bit like a cup-and-ball trick in which I played the part of both magician and mystified audience.

Zac Ives gave a brief and endearing introduction expressing his pride in witnessing the trajectory Nots have taken thus far.

I’m not sure if I have ever seen a band rock a gazebo before, but if I have, none could touch the near-lethal dose of vigor and vim with which Nots did so. The only thing that might come close would not be a result of this hypothetical band’s talent or performance, but the delight I would find in finding an ample excuse to use the portmanteau, ‘shoegazebo.’

Natalie Hoffman is a killer. Though I couldn’t focus 100% on the performance itself while I was arranging things inside the frame of a little rectangle through my camera, looking back through the photos from the afternoon, I’m able to see the late September evening breeze in concert with Hoffman’s movements, sweeping her hair between shots from L’Oréal advertisements to Cousin Itt screen tests.

Similarly, Charlotte Watson is damned heroic on the drums. When I first heard Nots’ first album, We Are Nots, my first impression was that I loved the drums: steady, cymbal-sparse, and heavy on the floor tom. What I hadn’t anticipated was how animated Watson was while playing live. Her head and hair disembodied into their own independent entity, in constant motion except for when she needed to provide backup vocals, at which point she’d localize her movements for long enough to aim her mouth at her microphone. She moved in physical space with the dynamism of the statistical probability of an electron cloud.

Again, seeing photographs as she was sliced out of motion, it was like capturing paranormal activity that the naked eye can’t observe. Her eyes rolled back behind their lids to reveal only pearls of sclera in the interstices of brunette tendrils mid-whip, reminiscent of demonic possession or some psychic commune with ancient worlds that only Roky Erickson could understand.

After Nots finished, Goner-goers trickled in and out of surrounding establishments for sustenance and socializing until it was time for the post-prandial events. Having driven to and parked in the lot behind Hi-Tone with an excess of time and a lack of things to do, I decided to explore the surrounding area. When I got out of the car, I heard Reigning Sound soundchecking inside with “You Got Me Hummin’.”

Walking toward the rear entrance, I saw the back of a figure with blazing white hair that seemed to blend into the two fur pelts hanging from a leather vest that hung down past the knees, much like a cape or trenchcoat with none of the nonsense (or all of it, depending on one’s perspective). I briefly wondered if I had just spied a glimpse of Ric Flair, and if a Wrestlemania was taking place nearby.

It took a second for me to realize that was the back of the night’s MC, and should any trouble rear its head this evening, Jim Dandy would be there to the rescue.

Next I saw him, the leonine Dandy and his fierce white mane were on the Hi-Tone stage, introducing the first evening band, Hash Redactor. Returning from her earlier set with Nots was Meredith Lones on bass.

As much as I was aware of Lones’ talent while watching her with Nots, I was better able to see how much she was doing when she played in Hash Redactor. Unfortunately, either the set (or just the final song) ended prematurely when the singer’s guitar, amp, pedals, or some combination thereof, suffered some communication breakdown in the signal’s path to the speaker, and they stopped.

      The second band of the night was the Australian trio, Chook Race, the first of several antipodean bands to be featured this year. It was a shift to a sweeter, slower pace, the dulcet combination of Carloyn Hawkins’ and Matthew Liveradis’ voices are reminiscent of the Vaselines (which might be a lazy comparison on my part). They were a great act to coax the audience forward into the night.

Thus far into the post-Gonerfest doldrum haze of ordinary life, they are the band I most often listen to and always among the first I recommend to friends. They have nestled deep inside the marsupial pouch of my heart.

Just as Chook Race became the band heaviest in rotation after Gonerfest, the next band was definitely the one I listened to most in the days preceding the fest.

I was looking forward to the Counter Intuits because my only exposure to them had been listening to their albums. At the time, I had pictured a snotty twenty-something with a stupid/smart sense of humor. I was pleased and surprised to see it was a fifty-something dude who, to me, resembled an alternate reality in the multiverse in which Darby Crash never got lost in heroin nor strayed from the tried and true routes of beer, weed, and burritos.

This, of course, was Ron House of Great Plains, Psandwich, and Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments, among others. The other main Counter Intuit is Jared Phillips of Times New Viking, a band I have also enjoyed but failed to keep tabs on over the years for no other reason than I’d just forgotten to.

Upon my first listen to Counter Intuits, I went nuts for the guitar parts that seemed straight out of the old Country Teasers’ playbook. I was glad to see they played a few of my favorite tracks from Monosyllabilly including, “Dementia/Dementia,” “Sunglasses After Death,” and “Password (Is Password).”

At one point, House seemed to forget his own words, so he pulled out a pair of black frame glasses and a seemingly swamp-assed sheet of paper with lyrics scrawled out on it, which was legitimately charming.

Useless Eaters easily were the tightest, most together band to play the Hi-Tone on Thursday night. They were absolutely the most intense. Seth Sutton was economical in his movements, but like a boxer adept at conserving and distributing their weight for doling out a knockout, the guy just spewed power. Lise Sutter provided additional textures of noise, and both Sutter and Sutton would return to the stage as a duo on Saturday to open the Hi-Tone show as Couteau Latex.

As I waited in my spot by the stage, I saw someone bring out two black folding chairs with the letters T and F spray-painted in dripping red on the backrests. I began to dream up iterations of a logo that would combine the two letters into one, not unlike the ambiguous letter that indecisive grade-schoolers use when filling in a blank on a True/False quiz, hoping to invoke a sort of Schrödinger’s Cat duality where the answer exists as both sides of the coin and the grader will be hypnotized into seeing the answer that is meant to be there.

When Fred and Toody came onstage, the audience welcomed them with all the warmth, reverence, and appreciation that they deserve.

When I saw Dead Moon in 2006, Fred and Toody were joined by the late Andrew Loomis on drums. The drums were pulled to the edge of the stage to where the three of them were on an equal front, a staggered triumvirate of sound.

With only Fred and Toody onstage, their sound more resembled the production of their records. Whereas Dead Moon in a live setting was pounding and powerful, most of the recordings seemed to shift attention to the treble end of things, with the famed Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie” mono lathe playing some part in making the bass drum almost a figment of the listener’s imagination. It was an easy transition to hear the songs performed this way, in an acoustic/unplugged-type of arrangement, while still being completely electric and plugged in.

(Disclaimer: I feel the need to restrain myself for this one, or rein it in, so to speak.) Reigning Sound has been one of my favorite bands since I discovered them in 2005. Greg Cartwright is one of my favorite living songwriters, and I can’t help but nerd out when he comes up in conversation or his bands are hitting my earholes.

Through mutual friends, I have come to understand that people expressing such sentiments to his face sometimes make him uncomfortable. Because I know that, should it occur, my meeting the guy would result in unavoidably effusive and one-sided fanfare on my part, I can’t do it. Back when I used to partake in socially lubricative beverages, I would calm my nerves and grease the jaw with a little libation if I felt like I needed to express my adoration or appreciation for some artists or another. Sometimes I’d overshoot the mark. After a particularly awkward and slurred conversation with Dale Crover after a Melvins show, I learned my lesson and began to give a wide berth when any artist I loved came through.

I’ve seen Reigning Sound more often than any other band (with the possible exception of bands consisting of people I’m friends with). The first time I saw them was back in 2005 at the second Gonerfest, and by that time the lineup consisted of Lance Wille on drums and David Wayne Gay on bass. I had the chance to see them several times over the next ten years or so, including once with Mary Weiss of the Shangri-Las, which was another occasion I oozed adulation onto a performer. Mary Weiss is a gracious, kind, and patient person. (At least she was for the amount of time that I was confessing my love to her, which is all I need and more than I deserve.)   

I knew the original Reigning Sound lineup had been playing shows here and there, and I wanted to see them, but I couldn’t make it work until now. Drummer Greg Roberson employed a bit of an unorthodox technique by donning one white glove on his left hand, gripping a drumstick, then mummifying it all in a layer of duct-tape. I’d heard of people doing this when they have a break or sprain and need to play a show, but I think it was just to ensure the stick wouldn’t go flying when things got sweaty. Bassist Jeremy Scott played the role of the most animated person onstage, seeming to have to most fun playing the Reigning Sound songs of yore (though everyone was, both onstage and off, clearly enjoying themselves and seemed happy to be there).

Friday began with a daytime show at Memphis Made Brewing Company, the brewery that crafted and canned an IPA in recognition of Gonerfest.

Since my drinking days are over a half decade behind me, I don’t have any opinion to offer on the taste and quality of a beer, but even if I were still a tippler, I have never claimed to have the most refined palate in the world.

However, since my occasional Indiana Jones golden-idol/bag-of-sand switcheroo for a pint of PBR is a fistful of burrito while watching a band (both are more or less cylindrical and housed in aluminum to some degree, so it works out fine), in lieu of a beer review, I offer that of a Hot Mess burrito instead:

I chose the chicken burrito with habanero, the spiciest of available sauces, which I anticipated to be more painful than flavorful. Due to a lingering sinus infection, I treated the meal as a therapeutic remedy as well as a nutritious and delicious respite from the early evening sun. Though I assumed I was going to suffer through a painful experience for the sake of culinary-cum-medicinal exploration, capsaicin is no panacea, but it inflicted a sufficient rout-like retreat of symptoms that had been making me feel like I was turning into Rocky Dennis with quantum singularities tucked deep inside my tear ducts.

It was delicious. 10/10.

The most memorable set of the daytime show was by the Canadian band, Pity. Balaclava-clad and wearing black, they ripped into a set that seemed to pack a half hour worth of borderline powerviolence into probably fifteen or so songs that all collectively fell into around ten minutes.

I was reminded, both visually and aurally, of Henry Fiat’s Open Sore. Since I love that band and have never seen them in the flesh, this was probably the closest possible thing, as well as a band and performance that I appreciate and enjoyed as their own entity, independent of my associations with a likely defunct ensemble of masked and monikered Swedes.

Pity’s singer’s guitar suffered a double dose of immolation, first being lit on fire while still on his person before being tossed in the air. The band tore back into song, and again the guitar was lit, flung, and then it fell back to the ground. As Aristotle posited of gravity, being not completely wrong yet not completely right, things move toward their natural place. The guitar seemed to feel its proper place was on the ground. At least one fourth of Pity disagreed, possibly feeling it should be condemned to the fires of the sun, considering its intended trajectory and flaming head start.

The first band on Friday night at the Hi-Tone was Opposite Sex from New Zealand. They started with a song in which the guitarist and drummer began, while Lucy Hunter jumped up and down in front of her bass. It might have just been some pre-performance calisthenics overlapping into the show, but I imagined that she was conjuring up vibrations from her feet hitting the stage floor, then being soaked up by her bass and letting the strings ring out in an almost inaudible hum, sort of priming her instrument with resonance like a finger riding on the rim of a wine glass just before it sings.

Hunter began sing/speaking into the microphone while the drums and guitar carried on. When she picked up her bass, her playing became the pulse of the music, allowing the guitar to reel off into twangy noise. Her voice sounded both innocent and beyond her years.

The best surprise of the night, if not the entire weekend, came from the Australian band, Power. The first thing they did was clear everything superfluous from the floor and push the single microphone stand to the edge of the stage. (This might seem like an inconsequential detail, but I only noticed because some bands leave extra stands where they are, which can be a bit of a hurdle to overcome when trying to get good photos without blurry black bars running through them.)

When the band started playing, their energy filled that open space in such a way that made it feel like they had packed up and transported their entire practice space all the way to Memphis from Melbourne. (It calls to mind the haiku from didn’t-know-it-poet Garth Algar: “I mean, we’re looking/ Down on Wayne’s basement; only/ That’s not Wayne’s basement.”)

Power’s frontman looks like the sort of bully from the ‘80s movies who you secretly root for over the cloyingly innocent protagonist. While the mullet hairstyle might commonly referred to as being business in the front, party in the back, this was neither party nor business. It was 100% irony-free, no-nonsense, kick-your-dick-in-the-dirt for real.

They’re the kind of band who couldn’t give a shit less if you like them, but that won’t stop them from giving it their all when they play, because that’s the only way they know how to do it. I like to imagine they have only ever listened to AC/DC, Motorhead, and the only Metallica they’ll put up with is Kill ‘Em All. That might all have more to do with their look than their sound because as good as it was, the only thing I knew for certain is that they were awesome at being loud. Either way, if I had to ballpark the math, I’d be willing to drive between 5 and 10 hours just to see them play again, even if it was for fifteen minutes.

Buck Biloxi and the Fucks played next, which included the return of Nots’ Charlotte Watson on drums. The crowd went apeshit for them, despite Robert Watson Craig III growing mildly frustrated as roughly half the songs just collapsed and dissolved rather than meeting their intended endings. The more they fucked up, the more the crowd loved it.

The Blind Shake brought the most controlled form of chaos to the stage. The brothers Blaha were both dressed in black, bald or shorn, and both played MPLS guitars (Mike with a baritone, Jim with a regular six-string). They sang the same words, at the same time, providing a visual and aural stereo union before retreating from the mic stands to explode into their own respective forms of animation, Jim wrangling his guitar like a junebug on a string and choreographed faux-smash movements that looked potentially lethal to the instrument until he swept it back up and out of harm’s way at the last moment.

Black Lips were the last Friday act on the Hi-Tone stage, and it was their first Gonerfest since the very first one in January of 2005. Coincidentally, my old college friend, Zumi Rosow, plays saxophone for them now. I got to speak her briefly while she set up before the show, and we reminisced about the time I wrote a 10-page paper on Eraserhead for her in exchange for a few beers, or when I convinced two thirds of [what would later become] Mean Jeans to form a one-off black metal band and shoot a video of my sacrificing her with a six foot sword, and a moving death scene performance on her part as she writhed in basement dirt and A1 steak sauce for blood.

Black Lips were easily the wildest show of the weekend, as far as communal artist/audience participation weas concerned. They played a good deal off of Underneath the Rainbow, as well as some old favorites from Let It Bloom, and they played at least one new song off their forthcoming album. Between songs, Cole Alexander encouraged everyone to go to Murphy’s to see Tommy Wright III.

After their set ended, Zumi wanted to introduce me to Cole because we share a deep affection for GG Allin. After talking for a bit, Cole reiterated the importance of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see local legend Tommy Wright III perform. I had no idea who that was, but I was revved up on caffeine and didn’t feel like crashing yet, so I went.

Though it wasn’t part of Gonerfest proper, most of the same faces were present at Murphy’s after the Black Lips set. When I got there, Manateees were playing. Fronted by Abe White, their earlier recordings fall more under the umbrella of garage punk (I think), but when I saw them play, they seemed almost like a tight thrash metal band. They were great. I stuck around for a couple of songs by Tommy Wright III, but considering my pineal gland was still an hour in the future and operating according to Eastern Daylight Time, I finally opted to go rest up at the hotel.

Saturday’s festivities began at 1 PM at Murphy’s, alternating shows between the indoor and outdoor stages. I had been looking forward to seeing and hearing Iron Head from New Orleans, featuring King Louie on guitar. I love a lot of King Louie’s oeuvre. When I came to Gonerfest in September of 2005, his one man band rang in the weekend’s opening ceremony from the rear of the Goner store. I don’t remember what songs he played, but between numbers, he answered a cell phone call from Quintron and got the crowd to shout out a hello to him. Louie told a story about enduring Hurricane Katrina by grabbing hold of a soda machine as it floated by and boogie-boarding it through the river-flooded streets to greener pastures.

Iron Head was a spectacular mess, highlighted by solos and riffs that crashed and burned immediately upon departure, but that didn’t stop Bankston from going for each and every one with renewed faith and vigor in his fingertips each time. Between songs, Bankston and Drew Owen (on drums and vocals) debated over which one had played the previous song right. Bassist Jheri Macgillicuddy remained neutral and refrained from throwing his two cents in, but I got the impression he knew who was right and, as a matter of habit, just preferred to wait out the squall.

Oh Boland was by far the most charming bunch of the day. Their positivity was infectious, endearing, and unrivaled. It was clear they were thankful and happy to be there, a sentiment that was clearly reciprocated by the audience. The first song began and the singer, Bile Bunton (né Niall Murphy) approached the microphone bent over because the stand was raised only about three-fourths of a Danny Devito in height. I wondered for a moment if this was a sort of anti-Lemmy singing posture, but before I could entertain the thought much further, someone raised the stand height for him mid-song. It was a small thing, but it seemed a testament to their willingness to roll with whatever and embrace the situation at hand with high spirits and good humor.

Between songs, the drummer mentioned that they would need to sell their instruments before flying back to Ireland, so anyone interested should inquire further at their merch table. Murphy haggled himself down to offering his guitar to anyone who asked for it after the show.

The act I was most looking forward to on Saturday was Bloodshot Bill. I first heard him in the late-aughts and was bummed to find that he was forbidden from playing in the states at that time. I finally got to see him in Atlanta this past July, and I couldn’t wait to see him again.

Aside from being the best and most engaging one man band I have heard and/or seen, his vocal acrobatics incorporate grunts, hiccups, screeches, cry breaks, and a sort of ersatz Tuvan throat-singing that sounds at times like Charlie Feathers mud-wrestling a Tibetan monk with a menagerie of hogs, frogs, and barn owls cheering from the sidelines.

Following Bloodshot Bill was Control Freaks, featuring Friday night’s MC, Greg Lowery. The energy was high from the outset, and following a request from the festival organizers to keep on schedule by cutting the set short, the intensity maintained, though the vibe shifted from, “Let’s do this,” to, “Fuck it.”

Any restraint that might have tempered the release was then unfettered, and while the songs sounded great, the focus was more directed towards letting loose every ounce of their reserves, at least as much as possible within the confines of the time constraints.

The cocktail of excitement, anticipation, and frustration felt a bit like trying to cram as many shots into your mouth to get you sufficiently blitzkrieg drunk between the time a bar announces last call and when they forcibly remove you from the premises and lock the door behind you.

Preparing for the pinnacle of the weekend with Saturday’s final act, Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds, I found a spot at the front of the stage as it cleared up between bands. While I prepared my photo gear for what I could guess would be the best combination of lenses and cameras for the show, a young guy approached me, said hi, and showed me two album covers he brought with him, one Death Party by Gun Club, the other Psychedelic Jungle by the Cramps. One or both of them had signatures on them. Throughout the show, he either placed them venerably on the edge of the stage while he drifted into the crowd, or he clutched them affectionately to his side. His excitement rubbed off on me, and I drifted from mulling over technical details with my cameras to getting pumped to see Kid Congo Powers play two feet in front of me.

Tom Scharpling introduced Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds, and the lights were dimmed to a low red glow. Powers slipped effortlessly into the role of a curandero, bridging the gap between worlds with one foot dangling off into the ether and one firmly entrenched in the muck of the corporeal. He said a few words throughout the set, each phrase a small performance in and of itself. With his eyes perpetually focused off to some nowhere up and off to his right, each word he sang and spoke seemed directed toward some apparition in the upper corner of the room. It was as though his line of sight was some conduit of communion with his muse, and bringing his immediate attention to anyone in particular would break the spell.

Sunday afternoon, Rev. John Wilkins performed in the Cooper Young Gazebo. The weather was immaculate. Occasionally Wilkins’ daughter would take the lead and belt out her amazing voice while she drifted out into the crowd and engaged with the audience. Rev. Wilkins said a few words about his father, Robert Wilkins, and ended with a rendition of “Will the Circle Be Unbroken,” a befittingly annular theme for a closing hymn, considering our return to the (more or less circular) gazebo at the end of the fest.

Before I began the trek back home to Chattanooga, I made a couple of stops around Memphis. I went in the general direction of Graceland, since whenever I pass through Memphis, I consider going but end up spending a couple of hours in the Goner store instead. Considering I’d been getting gone all weekend long, I figured it might be the only time I felt like going.

 I had intended to check out the area and assess whether I felt like going in, but before I knew it, I was paying for parking, got the up-sell on a tour I had to wait over an hour for, and then elbowing through fellow Graceland-goers while I fought for space to pretend I was William Eggleston and photograph crannies of rooms and details of decor.

Meanwhile, my tour-mates had iPads slung from their neck and bobbing on their bellies while John Stamos’ disembodied voice piped through their provided pairs of headphones, rendering their spatial awareness a notch below their own normal levels, which might not have been great to begin with.

My heart went out to the angry woman in the bottom of the main house whose sole job seemed to be to remind each cluster of visitors that they shouldn’t sit on the bright yellow barstools. A large sign also indicated that they shouldn’t sit on the bright yellow barstools. Without fail, about one out of every five people who came into the room disobeyed and sat on the bright yellow barstools. I wondered if this exercise in futility was some exercise in karmic debt for the poor woman, or if the tamest circle of hell overlapped with our realm and was located in Elvis’ basement. Only past-life serial killers deserve such a fate.

Nearing the end, there was a line to stand in front of Elvis’ grave and take a picture of it, which I skipped. The whole Graceland experience was more meaningful to me when I was a Presley-obsessed ten-year-old kid and I went with my dad.

He couldn’t have given a shit less about Elvis, but he suffered through it just because it meant something to his weird-looking kid who spritzed his hair off the Moh’s scale with hairspray into the most generous definition of a pompadour, and who demanded that the silk bomber jacket with a gold-glitter Elvis on the back was not for old ladies, but actually meant for a ten-year-old dude who would unknowingly leave an indelible golden sparkle on everything he leaned against.

My last stop before leaving town was a short visit to Jay Reatard’s gravesite. I can’t claim I ever knew the guy, but I was lucky enough to have the chance to see the Reatards, Angry Angles, Final Solutions, the Persuaders, et cetera. The last time was when I got to catch some friends opening for his solo outfit in Chattanooga in 2008. I didn’t stay in the cemetery long, as I felt strange being nothing but a tourist, but I felt like if there was ever a time where it might be an appropriate time to do it, this was it. I saw that someone had left a green guitar pick as well as a devotional candle with Jay’s face on the angel’s body.

Only two days after Gonerfest ended, I had the chance to ride out the last ripples of the weekend and see two Gonerfest XIII veterans, Nots and The World, play with locals Coma Vigil in Chattanooga. I was glad I could see Nots again, this time not through a lens and without having to creep around surreptitiously with a camera pressed against my face. They killed it, as usual. I bought one of their special editions of Cosmetic that comes with a screenprinted cover, a small compact mirror, and some additional artwork bound up in cardboard and a rubber band.

In the time since the fest ended, I have been listening to the full-album playlist of over four hundred songs that I made in preparation for Gonerfest XIII, albeit now with new context and ancillary memories to reinform the way I hear it all now. I still struggle to find content by bands that are either not well-known, they don’t have many or any recordings available, or their names make it particularly difficult to narrow searches down to their specific material (e.g., Power, The World, Pity, et cetera).

I can only hope that I don’t wait another eleven years to attend Gonerfest XIV in 2027, though I hope both I and it are still around for that one as well.

[dmvisbot]

PHOENIX.WAD Author: Gurkha Boy Date: 04/11/00 Description: 5-level set with a tech-base theme, using Quake2 textures, new sprites, and a cool new sky. While not truly a hub-type of structure, these levels are interconnected. Let's call it a quasi-hub structure, 'kay? (Read Notes, below.)0417 hours, March 23, 2056: An observer at a listening post in the Jean-Pierre Maisson Observatory in Vichy, France, receives a terse voice-only message from the Deimos Station orbiting Mars -- "Something has activated the anomalies. It wasn't us; it must have been them. We are monitoring the situation, and we believe we are fully prepared." That was the last transmission received from Deimos.March 25, 2056: Several military and research satellites orbiting Earth disappear from sensors, and mysterious communications and power disruptions are detected on the Einstein Orbiting Platform, the Copernicus Array, and other unmanned space stations.0142 hours, March 26, 2056: Garbled holo-messages are received from the Erwin Rommel Geo-Stat Military Weapons Post. The only decipherable phrase is "Mein Gott! So viel! Was konnen wir tun? Alles is abgefucked!!", Deutsch for "Jesus! There's too many of them! We're screwed!" Minutes later similar communiques are received from several other GMW orbital posts. By the end of the day military installations on every continent and the Arctic are under full-scale assault from what can only be described as a hellish force.1030 hours, March 27, 2056: A hastily-scheduled meeting is called between the Chairman of the Organization of Galactic Research & Exploration (OGRE) and the Commanding General of the Inter-Planetary Defense Alliance. The agenda -- a counterstrike using newly- developed plasma weapons. The Chairman urges restraint. "Lets study them first," he argues. "This is a unique opportunity to examine ET life-forms. Your plasma weapons may leave nothing but carbon residue." "Good!" replies the General. "Then all we'll need to do is mop up the floor with water and a bucket!"1400 hours, March 28, 2056. Rockport Command Center, somewhere in the Canadian Rockies: Brig. General Ed Stone summons four personnel to his bunker. "I'll be brief," he barks. "I don't see any way out of this mess. We've had no time to mobilize armor, so it's been hand-to-hand. Plus they got to our fly-boys too, so we got no air cover. Even with the experimental plasma shooters we've got shit. They outnumber us fifty to one, and now I'm getting reports of some big-ass suckers that are tough as nails and shove rockets where the sun don't shine. I need volunteers for the Sleep Room. Now I know we've never tried putting anyone into stasis before, but the egg-heads in the lab guarantee it'll work. The plan is to bring your metabolism and vital signs so low that it can't be detected by normal means. For practical purposes you'll be dead; and that may be enough for those bastards to leave you alone. We'll set the timers to bring you out of stasis in a year. Then it'll be up to you to do what you can. Volunteers at dozens of installations throughout the world are undergoing the same "procedure". Maybe you can organize some sort of resistance movement. If you make it out."Keep in mind that we're going to scramble our security protocols and you'll be reduced to alpha-level clearance only. Clean up the joint if you can, and then your best bet is to try to make it to the Comm. Center to contact the others. Then get to the Shuttle Port and fly the hell out of here. You four are our best. I don't know what you'll face when you wake up, but I don't think I want to be in your boots."0630 hrs, April 1, 2057. Rockport Command Center: A computer console above the Stasis Chamber comes softly to life. A light blinks, the console beeps, and the glass cover of a stasis module slides noiselessly open .....Map_01 -- Out of Stasis Entry-level type map, where you figure out a way to gain entry to the installation. Practice your jumping skills.Map_02 -- The Smell of Death Explore the waste tunnels, sewage treatment, and hazmat processing.Map_03 -- Daylight Again Exit the Waste Area and run for cover. Blaze through Power Generation on your way to the Supply Station, and finally into the Installation.Map_04 -- Theater Ops. Basic Training. Armored Assault. Arena Combat. 'Nuff said.Map_05 -- Flight of the Phoenix Re-enter the installation, wreak havoc in Research, arm yourself in Weapons Systems, find your way back into the Stasis Chamber, phone home in the Comm. Center, and finally rev up those engines in the Shuttle Port.Notes: All the levels are set in a single military installation. Therefore in some maps you will see inaccessible areas, or doors that cannot be opened. Most of these areas/doors are accessible in later levels. All maps are original. However, in Map_04 I have "adapted" areas from two of my earlier levels. ("Lazy?!! You callin' me lazy? Ah, well, you're probably right.") I take credit/flames for three sprites (in the Stasis Chamber at the beginning of the game), and for most of the signs. The original Q2Tex.wad contained signs for "Warehouse", and "Supply Station". Using these as templates in MS Paint, I edited the letters to create new letters, but mostly I cut and pasted to create 14 new signs.The demos were created with ZDooM V1.22. Pistol start with 100% secrets & kills. To view them, use ZDLaunch. Otherwise, load Phoenix.wad in ZDooM v1.22, bring up the console (use the ~ key) and type: playdemo demoxx.lmp where xx is the map number (i.e., 01, 02, etc.) If you're playing a demo and try to load another demo, the second demo gets screwed up. Exit the first demo before loading up another.