#neos scramblings

[cosmos-fudge]

[cosmos-fudge]

this might be needlessly long & rambly, I just like putting these together :3 (I have the full image & description if you want it)

TLDR: Motorcycles

(and maybe wagons? idk what they'd be pulled by though. maybe it is space horses)

[image ID: screenshot of a warn peice of paper on a board, which reads:

Wayland's blacksmith

Buy and sell motorcycles, spare parts and [covered]

Motorcycle and wagon repair. overnight sr[covered]

General repair inc. oil. refit - [illegible price]

Breaks:

stripped and cleaned - [illegible]

replaced ([I have no idea]) - [illegible

Wheels:

puncture Repair - 1/2

wheel replace - 10

Engine:

carburetor synchronization(?) - 3(?)

valve clearance(?) - 1

all prices payable in quarts [of water?] or ammo.

end ID.]

And in some of the fictions:

"The gathering upstairs was over. Motorcycles roared as the lieutenants left for their own homesteads. " - The Fastest Shot A tale of Guinevere.

"Now drunk’s as drunk may be, ain’t nobody who can miss the roaring of a Harlequin echoing off the walls."

"-and mighty more pissed that he took his bike." -The Sharpest Aim A tale of Lancelot.

"Go ready me my wheels of speed-" -Pellinore and the Beast

I think also something in 'The Tower', but I havent listened to hnoc in a while.

Does high noon over Camelot ever mention what they're riding on cause I've just been imagining horses but I just remembered they're in space

[scipunk]

Mardock Scramble: The First Compression (2010)

[yakool-foolio]

Live Neo Reactions to The Phantom - Reblog Thread (Dual Destinies spoilers)

Starting from the beginning of Bobby's first testimony.

Man, arguing against Bobby when he's acting like his cheery self but he's been accused of such an incredibly serious crime is so fascinatingly uncanny. He's acting so happy-go-lucky while remaining carefully defensive, which makes it hard to digest the truth. It's such an uncomfortable atmosphere. This is quickly becoming one of my favorite cases.

[soraritsuka]

Excuse me while I cry from living out my nerdy dreams

[mxtwister]

letting you know that I've received your ask! Usually I'd answer immediately, but given the question, I need some time to be thorough... but an answer is coming. you have no choice in the matter.

I understand. The topic of Beat is serious and deserves much careful deliberation

[artbyblastweave]

ask game; Victoria Dallon, aka Glory Girl aka Antares

I've always thought that Victoria's first appearance is quite the bit of deft needle-threading.

The thing about Interlude 2 is that Vicky is our first example of one of this setting's established heroes actively fighting crime- not just swooping in to vulture up the accomplishments of an up-and-comer- and a therefore a major goal of the sequence is to ensure that the audience comes away structurally unnerved by what counts as business as usual for the heroes, set the stage for the hurricane of ass-covering to come. So we have a sequence where she lords her power over a baseline criminal who has no realistic chance to fight back or get away, where she cripples and nearly kills him in a display of excessive force, where she uses her connections to other capes to duck out on the consequences of her excess once she realizes that she's crossed certain moral and optical Rubicons. All of this is gross, all of this speaks to an alarmingly cavalier attitude amongst even the most ostensibly accountable heroes. And from a protagonistic perspective, all of this serves to soften the blow of Taylor's actions at the bank in act three, because we're predisposed to see Vicky as an arrogant, overprivileged loose cannon who'd actually have a significantly higher body count than all of the Undersiders put together if not for the cushion afforded to her by her status as a superhero. A golden child up against the already put-upon underdog.

But. She also does all of that to a Neo-Nazi, who was fresh off committing a hate crime. I mean, if this was violence against a purse-snatcher, a drug-dealer- It would be very, very easy to block this sequence in a way that would set her up as a villain and nothing else for the rest of the work. In The Boys, for example, Homelander debuts by incinerating one bank robber's hand and throwing another a thousand feet into the air to land hard on a parked car, and the dissonance between that casual brutality and his chumminess with the onlookers is the thematic backbone for... basically the entire show, because he was in such total control of the situation that the only reason to do it that way is that he fundamentally doesn't care. In Super Crooks, it's made abundantly clear that the superheroes trying to arrest the titular supervillains are significantly more destructive to the city than the villains are, because their institutional backing removes any incentive to do anything but pursue the flashiest arrests possible for the sake of ratings. But Glory Girl? She's a sixteen year old putting her money where her mouth is on the unconsidered-dilettante suburban-left-ish tumblrite rallying cry of punching a Nazi. She's living out a near-boilerplate superheroic fantasy of righteous violence against an uncomplicatedly righteous target- likely a fantasy entertained at least once by the median cape fan, if we're being honest- and then, in the aftermath, blood on her hands and on the pavement, staring down the full weight of the prospect of actually having killed a person in an unconsidered spate of rage, is very much a panicked teenager about it, scrambling for a way to walk it back.

Which, independent of the specifics of whether this particular asshole had it coming, is the problematic element of this that generalizes- that superheroism in this world is a system that puts the social license to use concrete-shattering power in the hands of a kid with the judgement and attitude of someone scheming up ways to dodge curfew. She's done this before, she's gonna keep doing this, she's gonna keep being two-faced about it with her public-facing golden-girl image. But she wasn't wrong to be angry. And the fact that this is the kind of thing she gets angry about is hard to separate from later beats where she tries to do right by people, hard to separate from her willingness to put herself on the line against Endbringers and the Slaughterhouse 9. It's a bad situation, a horrible system that's guaranteed to incentivize bad behavior, they shouldn't be assigning any of this shit to a 17-year-old. But later on, when things go south for her, the seeds are planted so that she can retain audience sympathy in a way that she likely wouldn't be able to if this story was a banal hatswap, with unfairly maligned "villains" who do no real wrong against supervillains who happen to call themselves superheroes.

[nicnak20]

Behind the screen; Charlie Mayhew:

*Dr. Mayhew likes to keep things strictly professional at work, especially with his colleagues. But when he sees a familiar face behind a screen on a certain site, he becomes more friendlier and more open to trying new things.*

The fluorescent lights of the hospital hummed a monotonous tune, a soundtrack to Charlie and Yn’s shared workday. Yn, perched at her counter, a small fortress of sticky notes and half-empty coffee cups, with charts of this patient or that patient scrambled all over, watched Charlie as he helped Mrs. Davison from the Neo unit navigate the intricacies of the new printer. His patience was remarkable, his tone even and kind, even as Mrs. Davison’s frustration mounted.

Yn had noticed this pattern with Charlie. The way he held the door for everyone, not just the women. The way he offered his extra pen to a flustered resident. The way he remembered everyone’s names and asked about their weekend. It was a gentle, quiet kindness that radiated from him, a subtle warmth in the often sterile environment of their sometimes grim hospital.

She admired it, genuinely. It was a stark contrast to her own carefully constructed walls. Because while Charlie was all open smiles and helpful gestures, Yn lived a double life after 5 pm. The moment her laptop lid snapped shut, a different version of Yn emerged. She wasn’t the meticulous data analyst anymore. She was ‘NyxShadow,’ a formidable nurse in the sprawling online realm of ‘XXXentertainment.’

XXXentertainment was her sanctuary, her creative outlet, the place where she wielded a digital sword and commanded armies of horny doctors or patients. It was a world of intricate lore, passionate community, and thrilling adventures. It was also intensely private. Her online persona was separate, deliberately so, from her real-world identity. The thought of her colleagues, especially Charlie, discovering her online escapades filled her with a peculiar blend of dread and embarrassment.

What would they think? The quiet, focused Yn, leading raids against mythical doctors and nurses who wanted every inch of her, and negotiating 'treatments' with other online patients? It felt absurd, vulnerable. The online world offered a freedom and a sense of power that her everyday life, confined to sterile tools and heart monitors, often lacked. She cherished that separation.

Their hospital had a tradition of Friday night after-work drinks at the pub down the street. Yn participated, mostly staying on the periphery of conversations, observing. Charlie was always in the thick of it, his laughter booming, his arm occasionally slung around a colleague’s shoulder in friendly camaraderie.

Sometimes, their eyes would meet across the crowded table. Charlie would smile, a genuine, uncomplicated smile that made Yn’s stomach do a little flip. She would offer a small, polite smile in return, then quickly look away, a strange nervousness fluttering in her chest.

These moments were fleeting, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They talked about work, about the weather, about the new season of that popular TV show. The conversations were pleasant, surface-level. There were no deep dives into personal lives, no shared secrets, no lingering gazes. They were simply colleagues, existing in the same professional orbit.

One Friday, during one of these gatherings, the conversation drifted towards online gaming. Yn felt a cold sweat prickle her skin. Lisa from rehabilitation was excitedly describing her latest mobile game obsession. Charlie chimed in, mentioning a strategy game he occasionally played to unwind.

“What about you, Yn?” Lisa asked, turning her bright eyes towards her. “Do you play any games?”

Yn’s mind raced. Lie? Be vague? A wave of panic washed over her. She managed a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head. “Not really,” she replied, her voice a little too quiet. “Don’t have much time.”

Charlie, who had been about to take a sip of his beer, paused and looked at her. He didn’t press the issue, just nodded and turned back to the conversation. But Yn felt his gaze linger for a split second longer than necessary. Her heart pounded in her chest. Had he suspected something? No, it was her own paranoia, she told herself.

The night continued, the conversations flowing around her. Yn felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that she hadn’t been forced to reveal her secret, and disappointment that she couldn’t share this vibrant part of her life, even with someone as kind as Charlie.

As the evening drew to a close, and people started to head home, Charlie found himself standing next to Yn near the exit.

“Goodnight, Yn,” he said, his smile warm.

“Goodnight, Charlie,” she replied, managing a slightly more genuine smile this time.

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Have a good weekend.”

“You too,” she said, and with a final nod, she stepped out into the cool night air.

The distance between them felt vast, despite the few feet that separated them. The unspoken spaces, the unseen worlds they each inhabited, created an invisible barrier. For now, that barrier remained intact. Charlie would continue to be the kind colleague, and Yn would continue to be the private warrior queen, their separate lives occasionally brushing against each other during office hours and awkward after-work drinks, but never truly colliding. And that, for Yn, was exactly how she wanted it to be. For now.

***************************************

One night after his shift ended, Charlie found himself wandering into a familiar adult website, out of sheer boredom more than anything. He scrolled through videos, when suddenly, there was Yn up on the screen - dressed in the trashiest candy striper uniform, bent over a hospital bed as a well-endowed actor entered her from behind. Charlie was shocked. Yn? His reserved, prim-and-proper nurse colleague? Doing porn?

Over the next few days, Charlie couldn't help but notice Yn differently at work. He'd catch a glimpse of her curvaceous figure as she moved down the halls in her tight scrubs. Or see how her ample cleavage peeked out from the V of her shirt as she leaned over patient charts. She was gorgeous, and now he knew she was not so innocent as she appeared.

One evening after their shift ended, Charlie found an excuse to approach Yn in the dimly lit parking garage. "Hey Yn, got a minute?" he asked casually.

She looked at him quizzically. "Sure Charlie, what's up?"

With a smirk he continued, "Well, I know it's none of my business, but I happened to see your... extracurricular activities the other night. On that website."

Yn's eyes went wide, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Oh my god... I'm so sorry you had to see that! It's just something I did once, for the money. I'm mortified you know now." She looked like she wanted to melt into the floor.

"Hey now, no shame," Charlie said gently, putting a hand on her arm. "You're smoking hot, Yn. That body of yours is wasted on the patients. I can appreciate it."

Yn let out a nervous laugh, glancing around to be sure no one else was nearby. "Well, I suppose it's a weight off my chest that you know. I was so worried someone from work would find out."

Charlie leaned in closer, his eyes roaming over her body unabashedly. "You know, if you ever wanted to continue appreciating those assets in a more...up close and personal way, I'd be happy to help with that. Strictly professional of course."

Yn bit her lip, considering it. She had known Charlie was an attractive guy, even if she never let on before. "I... I guess we could do that. Just this once, and you have to promise it stays between us."

"Scout's honor," Charlie grinned. "My car?"

They quickly got into his SUV, pulling off into the dark corner of the garage. Charlie wasted no time, reaching over to palm Yn's large breasts through her shirt. She let out a soft moan, arching into his touch.

"Damn Yn, you're so fucking hot," he groaned, tweaking her nipples. "I knew you'd be packing a perfect body under those scrubs."

With a shaky hand, Yn reached for his zipper. "I'm glad you like it, Charlie. It's been too long since I've gotten some action."

Charlie lifted his hips as she pulled his hard cock out, his eyes nearly rolling back as she took him into her warm mouth. "Ohh fuck yes, your mouth feels amazing," he panted.

Yn bobbed her head eagerly, sucking him off with gusto. It had been ages since she'd done this and it felt so good to let loose. Her body ached to be touched and Charlie's thick cock filled her perfectly.

She worked him deep in her throat, slurping and moaning like a whore as he bucked his hips, using her mouth. He groped at her big tits, pulling the cups of her bra down. Yn whimpered around him, sending vibrations through his shaft.

"Unnngh Yn, gonna cum!" Charlie grunted a warning before spilling his heavy load down her greedy throat. She gulped it down dutifully, licking his cock clean.

"Thanks Charlie," Yn said, tucking him back in his pants and sitting up with a satisfied smile. "You're a real friend."

"No problem," he chuckled. "Anytime you need another release, you know where to find me. It'll be our little secret."

Yn grinned and climbed out of the car. "You're a bad influence. But don't think this means I'll let you slack off on the job. I still outrank you."

Charlie laughed as she sauntered back to her car, giving her a little wave. He had a feeling this was just the beginning of a beautiful, dirty friendship.

*I was working on two blurbs at once! Hope the person who requested this enjoyed it!!!!*

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Kylie Cheung at Jezebel:

The day after Election Day, calls to the Trevor Project’s crisis services hotline for LGBTQ youth surged by 200%; online searches for abortion pills and emergency contraception skyrocketed, too. Queer youth, women, and girls were clearly concerned about what a second Trump presidency meant for their safety and their futures. But the country has been largely apathetic to their fears. Instead, we’re being called to consider young men’s suffering—real and imagined—and the insidious forces that seemed to shift this demographic to the right. A sampling of post-election headlines includes, “We Asked Young Men Why They Voted for Donald Trump—Here’s What They Said,” “The ‘Lost Boys’ of Gen Z: how Trump won the hearts of alienated young men,” “What’s the Matter with Young Male Voters?” and “Trump Offered Men Something That Democrats Never Could.” Of course, Jezebel is now adding to that list, but what’s missing from some of these stories is the manosphere as an increasingly powerful political arm.

Exit polls show Trump received a larger proportion of voters under 30 than any Republican presidential candidate since 2008. In 2020, Joe Biden beat Trump by 11 points among men under 30. Last week, Trump beat Kamala Harris by two points. (Among young white men without college degrees, he beat Harris 56% to 40%.) Some of this should be taken with a grain of salt: Youth turnout dropped sharply from 2020, so these stats offer an incomplete snapshot of an entire generation’s views. But, as journalists, organizers, and the Democratic Party scramble for answers, one concern that’s come to the forefront is the manosphere—a fast-growing, unrepentantly hateful community of men’s lifestyle influencers, podcasters, and media personalities who glorify and preach misogyny to a new generation of young men. Think: serially accused rapist and human trafficker Andrew Tate, hate speech-platforming Twitch streamer Adin Ross, or misogynist streamer Sneako, who once slapped a woman on camera as a “prank.” There’s also TikTok star Bryce Hall, who joined Trump on the campaign trail about a year after collaborating with proud neo-Nazis, including Sneako. One video from December 2023 shows Sneako laughing as he’s approached by young fans who yell, “Fuck the women” and “All gays can die.” He half-jokingly asks the camera, “What have I done?”

On Election Night, Trump handed the mic to UFC President Dana White (who, like Sneako, also slapped a woman on camera) at his victory party, and White directly thanked Ross, as well as the Nelk Boys and Theo Von, more popular manosphere influencers and podcasters who also supported Trump’s campaign. Over the last several months, Trump made numerous appearances on their shows and streams and hosted them at his rallies. And, because this seems to have worked, those who didn’t see Trump’s victory coming are now trying to understand this chilling sphere of influence that’s seemingly been radicalizing young men right under our noses.

It may be annoying, even disturbing to have to take this increasingly mainstream underworld seriously, but Angelo Carusone, president of Media Matters for America (MMFA), tells Jezebel that understanding the manosphere is important to understand “what future generations are going to look like.” Carusone says MMFA researchers tracked at least 20 times that Trump appeared on manosphere podcasts—including those of Von, Hall, the Nelk Boys, and Jake Paul—since May. In 2023, Ross and other popular manosphere creators including JiDion, Steve Deleonardis, Jorge Masvidal, and alleged rapist DJ Akademiks, appeared with Trump at a UFC event. The meet-and-greet was set up by right-wing video platform, Rumble.

MMFA has been closely following manosphere stars for years now, watching them and the social platforms that host them profit off of mocking rape survivors and trans people, or joking about and openly celebrating violence against women to their impressionable, mostly teen and tween boy audiences. Young people who might turn to them for apolitical interests—weightlifting, video games, MMA fighting, dating advice—are increasingly inundated with out-of-context stats and arguments about how much easier it is for women to get jobs, or minorities to get into college, or trans people to succeed at sports. These audiences are radicalized to believe a liberal, feminist world order is crushing them. Now, thanks to social media algorithms, content about weightlifting, video games, MMA fighting, and dating has become a pipeline to the right.

[...] Nicole Regalado, vice president of campaigns at Ultraviolet, told Jezebel her organization has been tracking online misogyny campaigns since Gamergate in 2014, which saw an outbreak of rabid sexism, racism, and queerphobia against perceived feminist progress in the video game industry. But she’s been alarmed by sharp rises in online harassment against women in recent years. It doesn’t help, Regalado said, that at a time when the manosphere is surging, with the help of anti-MeToo backlash and a golden age of media illiteracy, “social media platforms are gutting moderation, trust, and safety teams,” while “platforming and profiting off hate.” A lot of this came to a head with the outcome of the 2024 election, Regalado said, which “followed months of disinformation and racism-misogyny about Kamala Harris” from popular right-wing, manosphere-type influencers. Trump’s victory has only emboldened this toxic stew of misogyny, culminating in the viral “your body, my choice” slogan.

I understand the importance of Democrats and progressives figuring out how to “reach” young men—the electoral stakes are high, especially for the most marginalized among us. But in the last week, I’ve often found myself frustrated, even disgusted by the idea that young men are uniquely suffering because they’re young men, that they deserve outsized sympathy and attention at a time when women and other marginalized communities are on the brink of perhaps one of the severest rollbacks of our rights in modern times. Teen girls and young women suffer from endemic sexual violence and misogyny, and many still find it in their hearts to not elect a fascist. 

Carusone says he’s struggled with this, too. But he’s made sense of it by understanding the manosphere and its toxic, mass appeal as a youth issue. “The 30-year-old men who are upset, the Tucker Carlsons of the world, they need to get over it. They’re not who I’m talking about,” he said. But manosphere content is poisoning the minds of children, shaping them to become violent toward other children, to grow up and inflict violence on marginalized people. “We have to think about this as it relates to kids. If we don’t do something about this now, we’re messing up kids,” Carusone explained. “As these boys and young men grow, they’re going to build and organize political power, and even worse, as they move into maturity, they’re going to be more violent and abusive than previous generations.”

Jezebel does an excellent report on how the cadre of manosphere influencers such as the Nelk Boys, Sneako, and Adin Ross-- who helped push young men to the right and push Donald Trump over the finish line and how they’ll shape politics.

[cosmos-fudge]

Dont pay attention to this noise. *So many dice rattling* -Brennan Lee Mulligan

[yumicreatesworld]

Rivals To Romance: Frozen Hearts - Lee Jeno

Summary: A tale of rival hockey teams stranded by a storm, where animosity thaws into camaraderie and unexpected romance blooms amidst adversity.

Pairing: hockey player!Jeno x cheerleader!reader (featuring hockey player!Mark)

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6.7k

Genre: Romance, Drama

Warnings: thematic elements, intense situations, emotional intensity, cringey hockey team names (sorry)

I’ve never watched a single hockey game… so let’s write about it!

The arena is a sea of noise and excitement, with fans from both teams filling the stands, waving banners, and chanting. The ice gleams under the bright lights, ready for the players to carve their paths across it. The game is in the middle of the third period, and the scoreboard reads 3-3, reflecting the intensity of the match between Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters.

You’re on the sidelines with your fellow cheerleaders, your uniform vibrant and your movements precise. Every cheer you lead is filled with energy, your voice blending with the roars of the crowd. Your eyes occasionally flicker to the ice, following the rapid movements of the players.

Jeno, the center for Neo Resonance, catches your eye. He moves with a combination of speed and grace that is mesmerizing. You watch as he intercepts the puck from one of your team’s forwards, his expression one of fierce determination. He speeds towards the goal, skillfully dodging defenders. The tension in the arena spikes, and you can’t help but feel a mix of apprehension and admiration.

Jeno takes a powerful shot, aiming for the goal. The crowd collectively holds its breath. Your goalie leaps, making an incredible save, and the puck rebounds back into play. The ensuing scramble is chaotic, players from both teams crashing into each other, fighting for control. The noise level in the arena reaches a fever pitch as everyone anticipates the next move.

Your team’s cheerleaders are giving it their all, and you’re no exception. You lead the crowd in chants, your voice loud and clear, encouraging the Drifters to push harder. You notice Jeno again during a brief pause in the game. There’s a moment where he and one of your team’s players exchange heated words, the rivalry between them palpable.

“Nice dive, Jeno!” shouts Ryan, one of your team’s defensemen, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Trying out for the swim team next?”

Jeno skates closer, his eyes blazing. “At least I don’t need to slash to stay relevant, Ryan,” he retorts, his voice steady but edged with frustration.

Ryan scoffs, stepping closer as well. “Keep talking. Maybe that’ll help you win a game for once.”

The referees quickly intervene, separating the two before the situation escalates. The tension between the teams is clear, and the rivalry is deeply personal.

As Jeno skates back towards his bench, you focus on leading another cheer. The final minutes of the game are a whirlwind. Jeno, unwavering in his determination, rallies his team for a final push. The Daredevil Drifters’ defense is formidable, meeting every advance with fierce resistance. You’re on the edge, cheering with all your might, willing your team to hold strong., as the opposing cheerleaders do the same.

With mere seconds left, Jeno takes one last, desperate shot. The puck flies across the ice, and time seems to slow. Everyone watches as it heads for the goal. The buzzer sounds just as the puck strikes the post, narrowly missing the net. The game ends in a draw, the tension unresolved but the rivalry even more intense.

The arena explodes in a mixture of cheers and groans. You’re breathless from the excitement, your heart pounding. As the players leave the ice, you can see the frustration and determination on their faces. The rivalry between Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters is far from over, and you know that the next game will be just as intense, if not more so.

You and your fellow cheerleaders gather your things, exchanging high-fives and compliments on a job well done. As you make your way towards the exit, you can’t help but notice Jeno walking nearby with his teammates. His expression is a blend of frustration and determination, reflecting the intense effort he put into the game.

“We had them, Mark,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he pulls off his helmet. “That last shot should’ve gone in.”

Mark claps Jeno on the shoulder. “We’ll get them next time, Jeno. Don’t worry.”

You roll your eyes slightly at the confidence in their voices, feeling a flicker of irritation. Your own team had fought just as hard, and you can’t help but feel the rivalry pulse through you.

As you and your fellow cheerleaders make your way through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bump into Jeno. The sudden contact causes both of you to pause and glare at each other.

“Watch where you’re going,” you snap, your tone sharper than you intended.

Jeno’s eyes narrow. “Maybe you should try that too.”

You huff in annoyance, squaring your shoulders. “Maybe if you focused on winning instead of whining, you’d have scored that last goal.”

Jeno’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to say something else, but he just shakes his head and steps aside. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”

You walk past him, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and something you can’t quite identify. The rivalry between your two teams is more than just a game; it’s personal.

As you exit the arena, the cold night air hits you, a reminder of the storm that’s been forecasted. You see the buses for both teams and cheerleaders lined up, ready to take everyone back to their respective locations.

The buses for both teams and their cheerleaders pull out of the arena parking lot, heading towards their respective destinations. The night air is cold, and snow begins to fall more heavily, the flakes growing larger and the visibility decreasing rapidly.

You sit with your fellow cheerleaders, chatting and laughing about the game, trying to shake off the tension from earlier. The bus moves slowly through the increasingly treacherous conditions. You glance out the window, noticing how quickly the snow is accumulating on the ground.

“Wow, it’s really coming down out there,” one of your teammates remarks, peering through the frosted window.

As the bus trudges along the icy road, the snowstorm intensifies, transforming the landscape into a blur of white. The driver squints, trying to navigate through the blizzard, but the conditions worsen by the minute. Eventually, the bus comes to a halt.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have to pull over,” the driver announces, concern evident in his voice. “The roads are too dangerous to continue. There’s a lodge up ahead where we can take shelter.”

The news spreads quickly, and the atmosphere on the bus shifts from casual conversation to murmurs of worry. You grab your bag and follow your teammates off the bus, huddling together against the biting wind.

As you trudge towards the lodge, you see the Neo Resonance buses pulling in as well. The players, cheerleaders and their staff disembark, and you spot Jeno among them, his expression hard to read.

The lodge is a rustic, cozy building, its wooden beams and stone fireplace giving it a welcoming feel. Once inside, the warmth is a welcome relief from the cold outside. Players and cheerleaders alike start to unload their gear and lay it down in available spaces. The lobby quickly fills with bags, hockey sticks, and other equipment.

A few of the players drop onto the couches and chairs, groaning as they stretch out tired muscles. The exhaustion from the game is evident on their faces.

“Man, that game took it out of me,” Ryan says, rubbing his neck. “I feel like I got run over by a truck.”

“Tell me about it,” another player replies. “I’m going to feel this one tomorrow.”

There’s some friendly banter as the initial tension begins to ease slightly. Players from both teams, though still wary, exchange comments about the game and the weather.

“This storm’s insane,” Mark from Neo Resonance says, shaking snow from his hair. “Hope we’re not stuck here too long.”

“You and me both,” one of your fellow cheerleaders replies. “But at least it’s warm in here.”

Jeno and some of his teammates start organizing their gear, making sure everything is accounted for. You and the other cheerleaders find a spot to lay down your own bags, spreading out blankets and setting up a makeshift area to rest.

The lodge manager steps forward with a flashlight and a serious expression. “Alright, everyone, listen up. We’re in for a rough night. The storm is getting worse, and it looks like we’ll be here for a while. We need to make sure everyone is safe and comfortable.”

The players and cheerleaders nod, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. People start settling in, trying to make the best of it. Some players stretch out on the floor, using their bags as makeshift pillows, while others huddle together, sharing snacks and stories to pass the time.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and then go out completely, plunging the lodge into darkness. The murmurs of conversation turn into gasps and exclamations of surprise.

“Great,” you mutter, reaching for your phone to use as a flashlight.

The lodge manager’s voice cuts through the darkness. “Looks like the storm knocked out the power. We have some emergency supplies, but we’ll need to work together to get through this.”

There’s a murmur of discontent from both groups. The rivalry is still fresh, and the idea of cooperating with the other team doesn’t sit well with anyone. But with the storm howling outside, there’s no choice.

“Alright, let’s divide into teams,” the manager continues. “We need people to gather firewood, distribute blankets, and set up a central area for everyone to stay warm.”

You’re assigned to gather firewood, and to your dismay, so is Jeno. He gives you a sidelong glance, clearly not thrilled either.

“Great,” you mutter under your breath as you pull on your coat and gloves. “Just what I needed.”

“Trust me, I’m not any happier about this than you are,” Jeno replies curtly, grabbing an empty bag for the wood.

You both head outside into the biting cold, the wind whipping the snow around in a frenzy. The task is made more difficult by the rapidly falling snow and the need to trudge through drifts to find suitable wood. You quickly realize that your cheer uniform offers little protection against the freezing temperatures, and you start to shiver uncontrollably.

Jeno notices your shivering and stops. Without a word, he unties a jacket from around his waist and hands it to you. “Here. Put this on.”

Surprised, you hesitate for a moment before taking the jacket. “Thanks,” you say quietly, slipping it on. The warmth is immediate and much needed.

After a short pause, you add, “I didn’t see you grab this jacket.”

Jeno shrugs, his expression unreadable. “I grabbed it before I followed you outside. Thought it might come in handy.”

The revelation makes you pause. Despite the rivalry and the tension between you, Jeno had thought ahead and brought the jacket, anticipating the harsh conditions.

“Well, thanks again,” you say, this time with a bit more sincerity.

Jeno nods, not meeting your eyes. “Let’s just get this done.”

The two of you continue working in relative silence, the only sounds the crunching of snow beneath your boots and the distant howl of the wind. Despite the lingering tension, the shared challenge of gathering firewood in the storm creates a small, unspoken truce between you.

“We should split up,” Jeno suggests after a while, his voice cutting through the silence between them.

You hesitate, glancing around at the thick blanket of snow. “Are you sure? It’s hard to see in this storm.”

Jeno nods, his breath visible in the freezing air. “Yeah, but we’ll cover more ground that way. Just stay within shouting distance.”

Reluctantly, you agree, and you separate, disappearing into the swirling snow. Alone now, you focus on the task at hand, scanning the ground for fallen branches and small trees that have succumbed to the weight of the snow.

It’s slow going, each piece of wood a small victory against the elements. Your fingers ache from the cold, despite the gloves, and you find yourself constantly wiping snowflakes from your face. You glances over at Jeno occasionally, seeing his figure moving steadily through the storm. Despite you rivalry, you grudgingly acknowledge his determination and efficiency.

After what feels like hours, you reconvene near the lodge with your haul of firewood. Some of the other players and cheerleaders have also returned, their faces red and their breaths visible in the cold air. There’s a collective sense of relief as they deposit their bundles of wood in a growing pile near the lodge entrance.

Jeno approaches you, his expression more serious than usual. “Good work,” he says simply, his voice carrying a hint of begrudging respect.

You nod in acknowledgement, surprised at the genuine appreciation in Jeno’s tone. “You too,” you replies, feeling a twinge of the camaraderie that comes with shared hardship.

You exchange nods before moving to help the others with the remaining tasks. The storm rages on outside, but inside the lodge, a small seed of trust has begun to sprout between you both, nurtured by the necessity of survival and the mutual understanding that sometimes, cooperation is stronger than competition.

Outside, the storm continues to rage unabated, its fury relentless as snowflakes swirl around in a blinding frenzy. You and Jeno, along with a few others, brave the elements once more to gather the last batch of firewood needed to sustain you all through the night.

As y’all venture further from the lodge, the terrain becomes increasingly treacherous. Ice patches lurk beneath the fresh snow, threatening to send you slipping with each step. You shiver despite the jacket, the cold seeping through your cheerleading uniform. Your breath comes out in visible puffs, and you focus on keeping your footing.

Suddenly, a patch of ice beneath you gives way, causing you to lose your balance. You start to fall backward, but before you can hit the ground, strong hands grip your arms and pull you upright.

“Careful,” Jeno’s voice cuts through the howling wind, his grip firm yet surprisingly gentle.

You blink in surprise, catching your breath as you steady yourself. You look up at Jeno, his face partially obscured by the falling snow. “Thanks,” you manage, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

Jeno nods, releasing your arms and turning back to the task at hand. “Watch your step. It’s slippery out here.”

You continue in silence, your movements more cautious now. Each piece of firewood you find is a small victory against the storm, and you work together to load them into your bags.

As you trudge back towards the lodge, you steals glances at Jeno. His jaw is set in determination, his eyes focused on the path ahead. Despite your rivalry and the tension that still lingers between you, you can’t deny the sense of security you feel with him beside you.

Back at the lodge, you deposit the firewood with the others. The lodge is warmer now, the fire crackling merrily in the stone fireplace.

Jeno meets your gaze briefly, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. You’ve faced a challenge together and come out stronger for it. It’s a small step, but one that has begun to bridge the gap between rivals.

Others notice the subtle change in your interaction, exchanging surprised glances and murmured comments. The tension that once filled the lodge has eased somewhat, replaced by a tentative camaraderie born out of necessity.

As you all settle in for the night, you find yourself sitting closer to Jeno than you would have imagined possible earlier in the day. Your rivalry is far from forgotten, but for now, you share a mutual respect forged through hardship and the realization that, perhaps, you’re not so different after all.

With the fire crackling warmly in the lodge, the storm outside seems a world away. Players and cheerleaders alike find themselves clustered together, seeking comfort in the flickering light and the shared struggle of the evening.

You sit near the fire, your cheeks flushed from the cold but your spirits lifted by the relative warmth. You glance around, noticing Jeno on the other side of the room, engaged in a quiet conversation with Mark, his teammate. Despite the lingering tension between them, there’s an undeniable sense of relief in the air.

After a moment, Jeno catches your gaze and nods in acknowledgement. You return the nod cautiously, unsure of what to make of your newfound understanding.

As the night wears on, conversations start to flow more freely among the group. Laughter echoes off the wooden beams, breaking the silence that had settled over them earlier.

You find yourself drawn into a conversation with a few of the other cheerleaders of both teams, exchanging stories about past games and funny mishaps during practices. You steal glances at Jeno occasionally, noting his occasional chuckle or smile as he listens to his teammates.

Eventually, You decide to approach Jeno, cautiously navigating the still-present tension between you. You find him sitting alone near the fire, staring into the flames with a thoughtful expression.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, keeping your tone neutral.

Jeno looks up, surprise flickering in his eyes before he nods. “Sure.”

You sit in companionable silence for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound between you . You shift slightly, unsure of how to break the ice.

Finally, Jeno speaks, his voice quiet yet oddly open. “So, uh, what made you want to be a cheerleader?”

You blink in surprise at the unexpected question. You hadn’t expected Jeno to initiate a conversation, let alone about something personal. “Hmm, well, it started when I was little,” you begin, a small smile playing on your lips as you recall fond memories. “I used to watch my older sister cheer at her high school games. She always looked so confident and happy out there on the field. I guess I wanted to be like her.”

Jeno listens intently, his gaze fixed on the flames. “That’s cool. Must be tough, though. Cheering at all those games, I mean.”

You nod, a hint of pride in your voice. “Yeah, it can be challenging, but it’s also incredibly rewarding. You get to be part of something bigger than yourself, you know?”

Jeno nods in understanding, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I get that.”

After a short pause, Jeno speaks with a tentative curiosity. “So, uh, what do you do when you’re not cheering?”

You smile, appreciating the opportunity to share a bit of yourself beyond the cheerleader persona. “I enjoy hiking and exploring new places,” you begin, your voice soft yet filled with enthusiasm. “There’s something about being outdoors, especially in the mountains. It’s like a different world out there.”

Jeno listens attentively, nodding in understanding. “That sounds peaceful. I’ve always wanted to do more hiking, but hockey keeps me pretty busy.”

You continue to exchange stories, discovering shared interests and hobbies beyond your respective roles in sports. Jeno talks about his passion for photography, how capturing moments off the ice helps him unwind and see the world differently. You share your love for cooking and experimenting with recipes, finding joy in creating meals that bring people together.

As you converse, a sense of ease settles between you, the initial tension of rivalry giving way to genuine curiosity and mutual respect. You find yourselves laughing over shared anecdotes and nodding in agreement over favorite books and movies, opening up in ways you hadn’t anticipated. The tension between you eases as you discover common interests and experiences beyond your roles on the ice and the sidelines.

“It’s funny,” You muse after a while, a small smile quirking your lips. “We spend so much time competing against each other, but we probably have more in common than we realize.”

Jeno nods thoughtfully, a faint smile on his face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe there’s more to this rivalry than meets the eye.”

You chuckle softly, feeling a sense of camaraderie settling between you. “Who knew a snowstorm could bring us all together like this?”

Jeno’s smile widens, reflecting the warmth of the fire. “Mother Nature works in mysterious ways.”

You both laugh softly, the sound blending with the crackling of the fire and the distant howl of the wind outside. In that moment, the rivalry between you fades into the background, replaced by a tentative bond forged through shared moments and unexpected conversation.

As the storm continues to rage outside, You and Jeno find yourselves leaning closer to the fire, grateful for the unexpected connection that has begun to grow between them in the heart of the blizzard.

Inside the lodge, tension hung thick in the air as players and cheerleaders from SM Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters found themselves unexpectedly stranded by the intensifying snowstorm. The previous evening, when the storm was less severe, they had settled into the lodge with trepidation, each team staking out their areas and eyeing each other warily.

Jeno, Mark, and Y/N had found themselves near the fireplace, a makeshift center for gathering and discussion. They had talked quietly, trying to make sense of their predicament and what steps to take next.

As the storm intensified overnight, sleep had been fitful and short for most. The wind howled around the lodge, and snow piled high against the windows. By morning, it was clear they were snowed in completely, communication lines severed, and any hopes of immediate rescue dashed.

Now, in the harsh light of day, they convened again near the fireplace. Jeno glanced out the frosted windows, squinting against the relentless flurry. "This storm came out of nowhere. We need to figure out our next move."

Mark nodded, his brow furrowed with worry. "Yeah, it's intense. First things first, we should gather everyone and take stock of what we have—food, water, and firewood."

Y/N, her voice steady despite the tension in the room, nodded in agreement. "Let's get organized. We need teams to check supplies and secure the lodge."

Quickly, they gathered the others, navigating through worried conversations about when help might arrive. In the main area, Jeno stood on a chair to address the group, his voice projecting above the storm’s howl. "Listen up, everyone. The storm has cut off all communication. Our priority is safety and conserving resources. We'll divide into teams—some gather firewood, others check the pantry and water supply."

A Drifters player spoke up skeptically, "You sure your team can handle this?"

Jeno's teammate shot back defensively, "We'll manage. How about your team?"

Y/N stepped in, her tone firm yet diplomatic. "Let's focus on the tasks. We're in this together, no matter the jersey."

Despite initial tension, teams formed and began their tasks. There were terse exchanges and competitive undercurrents, but also moments of cooperation as they secured supplies and fortified the lodge. Leaders emerged naturally, coordinating efforts to maintain morale and safety.

Near the fireplace, Jeno helped stack firewood brought in by his teammates. "Good work out there," he acknowledged, a nod of respect exchanged.

His teammate nodded back, the rivalry momentarily set aside. "Thanks. Your team's not bad either."

Meanwhile, Y/N moved among the groups, offering encouragement and helping to allocate tasks. She noted moments where players from both teams worked side by side, a silent acknowledgment that survival depended on unity despite the rivalry.

As the day wore on and the storm continued unabated, a fragile sense of cooperation began to settle in. They were rivals on the ice, but here, in the face of nature's fury, they were teammates striving toward a common goal: survival until help could arrive.

In the flickering light of the lodge, amidst the howling wind and swirling snow, bonds were forming that transcended the competition they knew so well.

Inside the lodge, tension hung thick in the air as players and cheerleaders from Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters found themselves unexpectedly stranded by the intensifying snowstorm. The previous evening, when the storm was less severe, you had settled into the lodge with trepidation, each team staking out their areas and eyeing each other warily.

Jeno, Mark, and Yourself had found yourselves near the fireplace, a makeshift center for gathering and discussion. You had talked quietly, trying to make sense of your predicament and what steps to take next.

As the storm intensified overnight, sleep had been fitful and short for most. The wind howled around the lodge, and snow piled high against the windows. By morning, it was clear you were snowed in completely, communication lines severed, and any hopes of immediate rescue dashed.

Now, in the harsh light of day, you convened again near the fireplace. Jeno glanced out the frosted windows, squinting against the relentless flurry. “This storm came out of nowhere. We need to figure out our next move.”

Mark nodded, his brow furrowed with worry. “Yeah, it’s intense. First things first, we should gather everyone and take stock of what we have—food, water, and firewood.”

You, your voice steady despite the tension in the room, nodded in agreement. “Let’s get organized. We need teams to check supplies and secure the lodge.”

Quickly, you three gathered the others, navigating through worried conversations about when help might arrive. In the main area, Jeno stood on a chair to address the group, his voice projecting above the storm’s howl. “Listen up, everyone. The storm has cut off all communication. Our priority is safety and conserving resources. We’ll divide into teams—some gather firewood, others check the pantry and water supply.”

A Drifters player spoke up skeptically, “You sure your team can handle this?”

Jeno’s teammate shot back defensively, “We’ll manage. How about your team?”

You stepped in, your tone firm yet diplomatic. “Let’s focus on the tasks. We’re in this together, no matter the jersey.”

Despite initial tension, teams formed and began their tasks. There were terse exchanges and competitive undercurrents, but also moments of cooperation as you all secured supplies and fortified the lodge. Leaders emerged naturally, coordinating efforts to maintain morale and safety.

Near the fireplace, Jeno helped stack firewood brought in by his teammates. “Good work out there,” he acknowledged, a nod of respect exchanged.

His teammate nodded back, the rivalry momentarily set aside. “Thanks. Your team’s not bad either.”

Meanwhile, you moved among the groups, offering encouragement and helping to allocate tasks. You noted moments where players from both teams worked side by side, a silent acknowledgment that survival depended on unity despite the rivalry.

As the day wore on and the storm continued unabated, a fragile sense of cooperation began to settle in. You were rivals on the ice, but here, in the face of nature’s fury, you were teammates striving toward a common goal: survival until help could arrive.

In the flickering light of the lodge, amidst the howling wind and swirling snow, bonds were forming that transcended the competition they knew so well.

As evening descended, fatigue and tension hung heavy in the lodge. The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on weary faces. The teams gathered once more near the fireplace, the flickering light offering a brief respite from the relentless storm outside.

Jeno glanced around at the tired but determined faces of his teammates and their rivals. “We’ve done well today,” he began, his voice carrying a note of exhaustion tempered with satisfaction. “We’ve secured enough firewood and stocked up on essentials. We’ll need to ration carefully, but we’ll manage.”

Mark nodded in agreement, his expression serious yet relieved. “We’ve got a plan in place. We’ll keep watch through the night, make sure everyone’s accounted for.”

You chimed in, your voice softer now, filled with a blend of weariness and quiet resolve. “It hasn’t been easy, but we’re getting through this together. Tomorrow, we’ll reassess and see where we stand.”

There were murmurs of agreement and nods of tired acknowledgment. Despite the rivalry that had defined you on the ice, here you were united by a shared struggle against the elements. The lodge, once a battleground of opposing teams, had become a sanctuary where survival depended on cooperation and mutual support.

As you settled in for another night of uncertainty, the fire crackling in the hearth seemed to echo the flickers of camaraderie and understanding that had begun to thaw the ice between you. In the quiet moments that followed, the storm outside seemed to relent, if only slightly, as if acknowledging the resilience and newfound unity within the lodge walls.

Inside the lodge, the atmosphere was subdued as you faced the harsh reality of your prolonged isolation. The storm continued unabated outside, and inside, conversations revolved around their dwindling supplies.

Jeno, Mark, and You convened near the dwindling fire, once again. Your expressions grave as you assessed the situation.

Mark ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. “We’ve burned through more firewood than I expected. And the food supplies… they’re not going to last much longer.”

Jeno nodded grimly, his gaze flickering to the small stockpile of provisions they had managed to gather. “We need to ration what we have left. Maybe skip some meals to conserve.”

You frowned, your mind racing with possibilities. “We should check if there are any emergency supplies we missed. Maybe a hidden pantry or storage room.”

You organized teams once more, this time with a renewed urgency. Some searched the lodge thoroughly while others doubled efforts to gather firewood in the worsening storm.

Tensions simmered as the reality of your predicament settled in deeper. There were terse exchanges over who should eat what, and frustrations occasionally boiled over. Yet, amidst the strain, there were also moments of quiet understanding and cooperation as they realized their mutual dependence for survival.

Near the fireplace, where the warmth offered a brief respite from the cold, Jeno and a Drifters cheerleader worked silently together to ration out the remaining food supplies. “We’ve got to make this last,” Jeno muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

His teammate nodded in agreement, a shared determination replacing the rivalry that had once defined their relationship. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Meanwhile, you worked with another group to search every nook and cranny of the lodge, hoping to uncover any overlooked resources. “Check behind those crates,” you directed, your voice steady despite the fatigue evident in your eyes.

As the day wore on and your efforts continued, a sense of unity began to emerge amidst the strain.

By nightfall, despite the challenges that lay ahead, you all gathered once more near the fireplace. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on weary faces.

“We’ve made it through another day,” Jeno said quietly, his voice carrying a mix of weariness and resolve. “We’re holding on, but we need to keep going. Tomorrow, we’ll need to be even more resourceful.”

Mark nodded in agreement, his gaze steady as he looked around at their makeshift community. “We’ll get through this. We’ve come this far together.”

You added with a hint of optimism, “We’ve proven we can adapt. We just have to keep working together.”

As you settled in for another night of uncertainty, the firelight seemed to offer a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded you. Despite the challenges of the storm and the dwindling supplies, you found strength in your resilience and in the bonds that were slowly but surely forming between you.

As the third day of the relentless storm dragged on, the lodge felt more like a refuge and a prison simultaneously. Jeno, standing near the frosted windows, watched the snow swirl in gusts outside, obscuring the landscape beyond. The atmosphere inside was heavy with the scent of woodsmoke and a mix of tension and camaraderie that had developed among the players and cheerleaders from Neo Resonance and Daredevil Drifters.

Amidst the shuffle of tasks and attempts to stave off boredom, Jeno found himself increasingly drawn to your presence. You moved with purpose, checking supplies, offering encouragement, and managing disputes with a calm demeanor that belied the stress of your predicament. He admired your resilience and the way you had managed to keep spirits up when the temptation to succumb to anxiety loomed over everyone.

Later in the afternoon, as you found a rare moment of solitude near the crackling fireplace, Jeno decided to voice his thoughts. The firelight flickered across your face, casting shadows that danced in your eyes as you looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips.

“You’ve been holding up well through all of this,” Jeno began, his voice carrying a mixture of admiration and introspection.

You nodded, your gaze meeting his with a hint of gratitude. “Thanks. It’s not easy, but we’re all doing our best.”

Jeno nodded in agreement, his mind grappling with the emotions swirling within him. “Yeah, it’s just… being stuck here makes you realize what’s important.”

Curious, you tilted your head slightly. “What do you mean?”

He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I mean… it’s made me appreciate the people around me more. Like you.”

Your smile widened slightly, touched by his honesty. “That’s sweet of you to say. I think situations like this bring out the best in people.”

You both lapsed into a companionable silence, the crackling fire filling the space between you. Jeno’s thoughts raced as he dared to consider the possibility that his feelings for you were deeper than he had initially realized. He admired your strength, your kindness, and the way you effortlessly brought people together, even in the midst of uncertainty.

As the storm raged outside, inside the lodge, a different kind of storm brewed within Jeno—a mix of conflicting emotions and a growing awareness of his feelings for you. For now, he kept those thoughts close, content to let the warmth of the fire and the companionship you shared ease the chill of their isolated reality.

Inside the lodge, the fourth day of isolation brought with it a renewed sense of hope as communication flickered back to life intermittently. Players and cheerleaders from both teams gathered around the radio, your ears straining for any updates or signs of rescue.

You, Jeno and Mark hovered near the radio, your expressions a mix of anticipation and relief as static-filled voices broke through the silence.

“We’re not alone anymore,” Mark murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It won’t be long now.”

Jeno glanced out the window, the storm still raging outside but with a newfound optimism. “We need to be ready when they arrive. Make sure everything’s set.”

Teams mobilized once more, this time with a sense of purpose fueled by the prospect of imminent rescue. You gathered supplies, organized a makeshift signal outside the lodge, and prepared to make your departure as swift and efficient as possible.

Throughout the day, the tension that had gripped both teams began to ease. Laughter returned to the lodge, mingling with stories of your time spent together, and reflections on what you had learned about yourselves and each other during your unexpected ordeal.

Near the fireplace, where the fire now burned brightly against the fading light of day, you and Jeno found a moment to yourselves. The weight of your shared experience hung between you, unspoken but understood.

As day four unfolded inside the lodge, the sense of hope grew palpable, as sporadic updates through the crackling radio hinted at the approaching rescue. Both teams gathered around the hearth, where the fire crackled with renewed vigor against the backdrop of the dimming daylight outside. The warmth from the flames not only thawed the chill in the room but also kindled a newfound camaraderie among the once-rival teams.

You three found yourselves drawn together near the fireplace, one last time. Your expressions reflecting a mix of relief and quiet contemplation. The tension that had hung heavy in the air for days began to dissipate, replaced by a shared understanding that you were nearing the end.

"It's almost over," Jeno murmured, his voice carrying a weight of gratitude as he looked around at his companions.

Mark nodded, his usual stoic demeanor softening slightly with a smile. "We've come through. Together."

Your gaze flickered between them, your smile reflecting the relief and friendship that had blossomed amidst the challenges you had faced. "We made it," you affirmed, your voice steady with resilience.

In that moment, Jeno couldn't help but admire your unwavering strength and the way you had kept the teams’ spirits up during the darkest hours of their confinement. Your shared experiences had forged a bond that transcended the rivalry they had known on the ice, revealing deeper layers of respect and admiration.

As night descended and the fire crackled warmly, casting dancing shadows across the worn faces of the group, they gathered one last time near the hearth. The flickering light seemed to echo their shared relief and anticipation for the coming rescue. Tomorrow promised an end to your isolation and a return to your normal lives, but for now, you lingered in the quiet companionship that had grown among you—a testament to their resilience and newfound unity.

Tomorrow would bring your rescue, but tonight, as you stood together by the fire, Jeno felt a sense of gratitude for the unexpected bonds that had formed and a silent hope that this newfound connection with you would endure beyond your shared predicament.

As the morning sun finally began to peek through the dissipating storm clouds, the atmosphere inside the lodge buzzed with a mix of relief and anticipation. Rescuers had arrived overnight, their vehicles parked outside ready to transport the weary group of players and cheerleaders back to civilization.

You and Jeno found yourselves among the bustling activity of packing bags and saying hurried goodbyes. The sense of companionship that had developed over the past days was palpable, yet there was an underlying tension as you prepared to leave behind the lodge that had become both a sanctuary and prison.

Near the buses, amid the flurry of activity, Jeno caught your eye. He motioned for you to join him aside, away from the others. With a mixture of nerves and determination, he took a deep breath before speaking.

“Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?” Jeno’s voice was earnest, his eyes searching yours for a reaction.

You nodded, a flicker of concern crossing your face as you followed him to a quieter spot. “What is it, Jeno?”

He hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I… I know this might not be the best time, but these past few days have made me realize something important.” Jeno’s voice was steady, his gaze unwavering despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

Your brows furrowed slightly, sensing the weight of his words. “What are you trying to say?”

Taking a step closer, Jeno reached out to gently hold your hands in his. “Y/N, I’ve admired you for a long time. Your strength, your kindness… everything about you. And being here with you, through all of this, I’ve come to realize that my feelings for you go beyond just rivalry.”

Conflicting emotions played across your face. The loyalty to your team, the uncertainty of what lay ahead, and yet, you couldn’t deny the warmth in Jeno’s eyes or the sincerity in his words.

“But… our teams,” you began softly, torn between the bond you had forged and the rivalry that defined your lives.

Jeno nodded, his thumb gently caressing your hand. “I know it won’t be easy, Y/N. But I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work. Because you mean more to me than just our teams.”

A moment of silence hung between you, the sounds of departure fading into the background. And then, with a mix of resolve and vulnerability, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. Your lips met in a tender kiss, a silent promise of what could be despite the challenges ahead.

As you pulled back, your eyes met, each filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Around them, the world seemed to pause for that brief moment, encapsulating the journey you had shared and the new path you were embarking on together.

With a final squeeze of hands, you turned to join your respective teams, ready to leave the lodge behind and face the future—one where your rivalry would no longer define you, but rather, the bond you had discovered amidst the storm.

And as the buses pulled away from the lodge, carrying them back to their lives beyond the snow-covered wilderness, you and Jeno shared a glance, knowing that whatever lay ahead, you would face it together.

Fade to black. Lmao. I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did! Love you all!

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DO NOT COPY , REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK.

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[scipunk]

Mardock Scramble: The First Compression (2010)

[novankenn]

What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha love each other (Pompeii)

Scene : On the ethereal bridges between Atlas and Vacuo

==> @watcher-servant The next meeting when trying to get Penny...there is no where to run...no where to hide...the dark knight and the illusionist will reach their quarry. No escape no back up a final fight and even using their semblance will not help. Even scarier if she's seeing his form shift between him and a full armored knight

They had been so close. Pyrrha and Cinder were unstoppable. Her skill and Cinder's powers working concert to drive back Ruby's ragtag group of defenders. The Staff of Creation was just with in their reach, then they heard that single ominous phrase.

"Found you."

Then everything went to shit. Jaune supported by Neo were more than a force of nature. As Ruby and her allies scrambled to get more and more people through the gateways, jaune and Neo descended upon her and Cinder like Angels of Vengeance. Blood soaked, and remorseless angels.

Cinder and Pyrrha fought a delicate balance of skill and magic versus finesse and brute strength. What Jaune lacked in skills, Neo made up with her abilities. Pyrrha frantically fended off a flurry of slashes and stabs by Neo, using her shield and semblance to their upmost effect, but still the silent woman pressed her.

A cry of pain, proceed the image of Cinder being thrown backwards. Pyrrha new her lover was more skilled than Jaune, but it didn't matter. Jaune's strength, drive of will and complete lack of care was something they couldn't counter. A smart warrior would evade, deflect, or block attacks. Jaune just took them. Absorbing the punishment, and plowing forward.

"Cinder watch out!" Pyrrha screamed when Neo suddenly shattered before her as she drove Milo into her exposed chest. Drawing her arm back, and coating Akuno with her semblance she flung it with all her strength as Neo appeared behind Cinder.

The throw was perfect, and when it struck Pyrrha knew it would knock the little imp from the pathways, and that would mean she and Cinder could then coral Jaune. Beat him down and maybe she could salvage the connection she and Jaune once shared. The blurring projectile closed on Neo as she dueled with Cinder, only for a figure to step in its pathway.

In a shower of sparks and a grunts of exertions, Jaune intercepted Pyrrha's thrown shield. Putting his body and sword between his impromptu partner and the attack. Pyrrha staggered backwards as images flashed in her mind as Jaune stood there.

Standing tall, pristine armor gleaming in the sunlight. It was an inspiring image. He looked noble, strong, confident and determined. He was a symbol of hope, of a better time, of redemption.

Then is twisted. The gilded armor, was gone. The noble look vanished. The Jaune of this vision was a nightmare. Armor blacked with blood, and battered through countless battles. Eyes that once held hope, filled with cold smoldering vengeance, threats of reprisals, and utter condemnation of sins, known and unknown.

"Pyrrha!" Cinder screamed in pain and desperation. Pyrrha's emerald eyes watched wide in horror. Having blocked Pyrrha shield, Jaune spun about, slashing horizontally he caught the distracted Cinder across her gut. With a vicious pull her drew the keen edge of the stained blade, across her midsection. Jaune's blade swung upwards, a droplets of blood thrown from the blade.

Pyrrha scrambled grabbing Milo. She drew back her arm and threw it as hard as she could, using the rifle function and her own semblance to multiple the force and speed. She was too late. Jaune's blade slashed down Cinder's back, making her rear back screaming in rage and pain. A scream that became a choked gurgle as Neo appeared in front of her and thrust with her own blade.

"Cinder!!!!!" Pyrrha wailed as Neo's blade shattered what aura her lover had left, punching straight through her exposed throat.

Rage, sorrow and loss welled up inside Pyrrha, blinding her to everything but Cinder's body sinking limply to the pathway. Jaune was upon her moments later. She was unable to offer even a token of resistance, as he slammed the pommel of his longsword into her face, crushing her nose.

As she lay stunned, she noticed that Milo had landed true. It was just too little too late. The bladed head was protruding from Jaune's chest, a mortal wound, yet Jaune acted unaffected. He was a machine, a monster of rage and vengeance wrought by her own hand.

The sight of him flickered once again. The noble warrior looking down upon her with pity, forgiveness, and hope. Then twisted to that of the other. The black night, the monster, the herald of death.

"I'm sorry." Pyrrha spoke tears welling up in her eyes, as Jaune stood above her, raising his sword above his head with both hands. "Jaune. I'm sorry..."

"Jaune is... dead." the demon wearing his face coldly spoke, before driving his blade home.

Pyrrha screamed in agony as the blade slick with the blood of her lover punched through what remained of her aura, and drove deep into her body just below her breasts. She could feel the cold, starting to seep into her limbs as she weakly clutched at the wound. Wrapping her fingers about the steel that pierced her body.

"For... for... forgive me..." Pyrrha choked out, blood starting to flood her throat, cutting off her voice.

Jaune said nothing, as his head drooped forward, and he collapsed to his knees. It was obvious to Pyrrha that Jaune had given everything of himself for this single moment. There was no one else, near them. The citizen's of Atlas having escaped to Vacuo. Cinder dead and gone.

Neo was no where to be seen, yet Pyrrha didn't care. This was the end. The final judgement of her actions. The reward for her sins. She turned her head as much as her weakening body could manage. Bringing the body of her lover into view while still viewing Jaune's dying form. Slowly her eyes began to close.

Pyrrha gasped in shock and pain. Lifting her head weakly she looked about herself. She was laying on a white sand beach. The cold waters of an ocean washing over her legs up to her thighs. Pain burned in her upper abdomen. She hacked and coughed, expelling water and clotting blood upon the sand beside her.

She died. She was sure of it. She was sure of it.

[bluu3berry]

meet the creator!!

Small info dump abt me!!!!

sokethin I put together for FUNSIE!!!!

Don't repost my art without creds or perms!

@borisboring @anon-coke @scramble-eg @skellavelav @spookuzm @thelunarsystemwrites @the-second-reason @ruelin024 @superbfirnacho

Neos plus funfacts under cut!

I have DPDR, meaning I feel as I myself, and my environment are unreal and dream like in a daily basis!

I am alterhuman! And other hearted!

I live in america!!

I love NEOs and their flags, it makes me happy to see them!!

I actually really wanna write more o.o

!! Enjoy your rest friend :333

[charmwasjess]

My tiny mountain town is a blue dot swallowed up in a sea of red. Our statistically-irrelevant town went for Harris. The larger counties around us all went for Trump. Here’s what this election looked like in the southeastern Appalachian on the front lines of that cultural divide: 

Outright unprosecuted voter intimidation: in the few blocks walk from my house to downtown, I can see a prop skeleton dressed as a Harris supporter hanging from a noose, and Harris yard signs slashed with a knife, others just ripped down to the cardboard.

Gerrymandering - years ago, these little-known poorer districts were redrawn around population centers in ways that give likely Republican strongholds more weight, particularly in rural areas like mine. Republican lawmakers literally have opened prisons in rural counties in my state to artificially inflate population numbers with people who can’t vote due to their felon status to tip the scales.  

Of course, the Electoral college, where US votes are decided by weight of a state’s respective collective population and importance rather than just the counted individuals votes

I’m not making excuses. I echo the rest of the world’s collective disgust and horror about the outcome. I am literally sick with my country. People will die because of this. People who don’t live here, people who didn’t get a choice or stake in the US elections, and who probably wish they’d never heard of the place. And people in my own community. 

Yet it is so easy to picture this election as the ultimate triumph of laziness and inattention, particularly in “ignorant hillbilly” places like where I live, which generally go for Trump without any fight - at least not one that shows up on an election night map. But the Republican right has been working for decades to put the legal, economic, and societal pressures that lead to this in place here. 

We fought hard. Grassroots campaigners, our organizers of LGBTQIA+ groups, leaders in our communities who showed up despite the fact that it put a target on their backs if shit went bad. Teachers fighting Republican-led mandates of ignorance and racism to choke out any thinking that might interfere with their political goals for their ideal voter base. Librarians who get death threats for having kid’s books dealing with gender or queerness in the public libraries. 

These are not imagined examples, these are things that happen to real people I know in my tiny blue community. And the violent, right-wing party, the party that promised to make this second Trump term one of revenge and retribution, knows who those people are too. 

The Charlottesville “Ignite the Right” attack happened in my backyard. I had friends on that street when a self-described neo nazi drove into a crowd and killed Heather Heyer and injured 35 others. Trump was president when it happened; he called the alt-right who invaded Charlottesville with guns and armor and torches that day “good people.” 

I have no faith in my party now. It feels like we’re still trying to play a game we lost years ago, while the other side is busy winning a new game, one where they get to make up all the rules. 

I realize that there are greater global trends at play - incumbents being ousted, a swing to the right, post-pandemic economic scrambles - larger issues than the difficulties of voter suppression in my rural American communities. I'm not in a great mindset to consider them this week. I've been politically active since I was old enough to vote, and it feels like we always build so much momentum and then slam facefirst into this fucking invisible wall.

Honestly? I’m so tired and depressed and anxious, I feel like I can barely function right now. At the same time, I’m disgusted by my own despair and whining. What gives me the right to stop trying now, when so many people across the globe are facing the same anger and exhaustion? When so many people are in more active danger, with less options than I have?

Anyway, I wanted to write something out about the election, maybe just to let go of the words and get them out of me. I'm a queer politically active liberal in a Republican-dominated rural space. Next week, I'll read all the posts about hard work and hope and building support networks. This week, I just need a fucking minute on the floor.

[carlzy-berryz]

Neo 3 ^^

Ref sheet done, lol. This took forever ahhh!! Ik it's not the neatest, but it gets the job done XD.

I'll go into more detail under the cut.. (lore)

Everleigh used to live in Splatlands desert but her family had to move to the Splatlands (city) a couple years back, to take care of her grandma. Her life kinda changed from then XD. The treatment for her grandma was expensive and turf war just wasn't cutting it anymore... so her parents suggested Salmon Run (Everleigh had no idea what this was at the time) but she agreed, nonetheless, after all if it pays well it can't be that bad, right?

Well this is where she developed weird "attachment issues" to the salmonids, she thought they were cute (especially smallfry), and wondered why so many people wanted to take their eggs, they didn't deserve that... So she started slacking off, not getting quota on purpose, giving eggs to snatchers, not reviving teammates ect... nobody ever suspected her though..

How she met Waffle..

One day at the end of a shift, Everleigh noticed an injured Smallfry near the shore, struggling to move, she went to help him but she could hear the helicopter about to leave, so she put him in her bag and scrambled back. She looked after him for weeks and weeks, feeding him, giving him a place to sleep, going on morning runs all to get his strength back! It wasnt easy though, as she had to hide him from everbody, she even took him to work (while bribing him with food as a reward, lol) he just stayed in her bag the whole time!

Eventually he was back to his bubbly self and fully recovered which meant Everleigh had to return him to the sea... She had always intended this, but she had grown far too attached to him, she couldn't stomach the thought of a co-worker killing him.. so she decided to keep him and named him Waffle!

The day she became an agent...

As usual she was on her way to work with Waffle, she was about to walk up the stairs when she heard a voice, it was coming from a manhole, she looked over and a strange old man was signaling her to walk over, he disappeared down the manhole and they follow him...

*I'll spare you the whole story mode Alterna plot you already know what happens XD*

After defeating Mr Grizz she knew for a fact she couldn't work for him anymore. She told her parents that she wanted to quit but they wouldn't let her, they said it was too much money to give up, then they started guilt tripping her saying things like "you really don't want to help your grandma..?" This made her feel terrible and she reluctantly continued working for a few more weeks... until she just couldn't take it anymore, she stomped into grizzco, slammed her things on the desk and shouted "I quit!" and she never set foot in there again. She traded the gold scales she'd earned over the years to a random octoling for money, (she sure wouldn't need those anymore) and managed to pay for her grandma's treatments! She now lives with her grandma and Waffle in a small apartment and works full time as an agent, getting paid now by the captain! She rarely speaks to her parents and will leave the apartment when they visit.

Side effects of becoming an agent..

.She doesn't have much time to do things anymore as she's always busy doing missions

.Her hair now looks a little fluffy, this is due to all the fuzzy ooze she fell in..

.She kinda developed ptsd from fighting her way through the missions.

.Feels like she can't meet Waffle's needs and doesn't want to overwork him.

These are just a few things, but she can't say she regrets anything, after all, it was her release from everything. She made new friends, defeated Grizz, participates in turf and anarchy again (with the other agents) and best of all she's happier now, that's what really matters!

That's about it really, sorry for the long story, 😭 I just wanted to get it out there since she didn't have much character development before, so if you made it here,thank you so much for reading the whole thing, I appreciate you!! ^^ I apologise if it didn't really make sense...

Here's a close up of Waffle as a reward XP

🫶