#only downside was that they got my order wrong:((

[djarinova]

i had such a successful day today omgg ˃ᴗ˂ i dyed my hair, the jeans i ordered on thurs came and they fit me perfectly and i did some writing!! and to top it all off me and my boyfriend got takeaway pizza for dinner!! tehe

[whore-era]

1-800-GIRLS

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2

phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.

monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?

uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..

oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.

ummm..

you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.

this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?

this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.

PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"

"does she sound hot?"

"well yeah, but—"

hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.

HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!

the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.

sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"

tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?

hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.

it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.

.......

.......

soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?

ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.

i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?

what thing? the hotline?

yeah..

well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.

okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?

yeah, if you want to.

sick.

ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.

so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?

you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.

specify what you mean by 'like'?

i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?

ehh...i guess.

c'mon. you can be honest with me.

well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.

oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?

uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.

what the fuck. seriously?

mhm, it's true.

shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.

well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.

holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?

19.

that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.

how 'bout you? how old are you?

21.

not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.

yeah? how?

considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.

ellie laughs.

how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?

you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.

well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?

i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.

is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?

uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—

all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.

so, how 'bout you sugar?

...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.

the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.

what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.

oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.

you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?

it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.

wednesday, 11:45am

sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.

you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.

"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.

"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.

handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.

slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"

leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.

saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)

thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.

no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.

sure will, babygirl.

the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.

sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.

you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.

but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.

fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.

the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.

luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.

ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.

the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.

saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?

hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.

you let out a soft laugh.

why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?

'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.

nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.

ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?

you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.

uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?

i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.

business? what business?

ah— well—

ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.

if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?

you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.

you can hear her laugh from the other end.

well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.

ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?

yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.

maybe you'll be my only customer.

i wouldn't complain.

speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?

trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.

what nicknames do your clients usually pick?

uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.

something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.

you could just put me down as ellie.

got it.

what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?

well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.

okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?

no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.

ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.

but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.

yeah? let's see about that.

saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??

you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.

no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.

you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.

as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.

so, how long were you and your ex together?

uhhhh, about 2 years.

ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?

ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.

why? who's asking?

well, i was just— uhh—

i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.

okay, okay. good to know.

how 'bout you?

nope. i'm single too.

seriously?? how?

i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.

i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—

can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.

ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.

hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.

oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.

maybe they're closer to you than you think.

your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.

i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.

oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

hey.

hey. where's your usual greeting?

you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.

ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.

good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?

just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?

smoking, just finished some homework.

what class was it for?

uhhh, just this calculus class.

you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.

....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.

yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.

i'd be a terrible student.

i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.

you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.

what's your quiz on anyways?

energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.

i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.

okay, i can do that.

you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.

alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.

you think so?

i know so. you're such a smart girl.

there she goes again, praising you.

uh, th-thanks.

don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.

a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.

you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.

m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.

of course. always. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)

yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?

mhm, yes mister.

c'mon. beg, sugar.

please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.

ah, hell.

you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.

what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.

i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—

yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.

the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.

but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.

wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.

monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-

woah, woah, woah are you crying?

e-ellie?

yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.

today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—

you sniffle.

— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.

i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.

i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.

ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.

do you trust me?

....y-yea, of c-course. why?

i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?

okay.

first of all, where are you?

i-in my room, sitting at my desk.

okay. go lay down on your bed.

with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.

okay, i'm on my bed.

good. what are you wearing?

foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.

ellie, you really don't have to-

hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.

biting your lip, you fold.

i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.

that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?

okay.

good girl. now, what are you wearing?

uh.. a tank top and shorts.

cute. take them off.

gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.

done?

mhm.

good. so obedient.

i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.

rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.

how does it feel?

feels good.

bet it does.

ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.

now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.

as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.

doesn't it feel nice, baby?

mhm.

wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.

you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.

alright, take your panties off. slowly.

you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.

okay, they're off.

such a good girl, following my every command.

you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.

slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.

hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.

god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.

i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.

i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.

your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.

slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.

spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.

fuuuuuck.

i-

you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.

go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.

the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.

your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.

as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.

how does it feel, baby?

f-feels amazing, ellie.

you let out a low whimper.

i wish you were here.

me too, pup. me too.

you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.

i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.

you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.

rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?

you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.

your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?

mhm, yes, daddy.

good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.

with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.

i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—

you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.

your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.

oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—

arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.

look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.

that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.

god, i made a mess.

oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.

monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.

oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?

ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.

seriously? how?

i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-

wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?

oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.

i— uh— i have to go—

wait! sugar! please. hear me out.

you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.

if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.

.....why?

i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.

you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.

....

i really hope you come.

the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.

tuesday, 2:50pm

ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.

looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.

as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.

there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.

walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.

"hi ellie, it's me."

pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3

[genderfluid-insomniac]

how about scara and reader secretly likes each other but they don't admit it then scara does smth that made reader upset so scara makes it up for reader by eating her out in his office 💯💯💯🔥🔥😈😈💪💪

I'm sorry if I got this wrong 😅

I’m in love with the way you hate me /// Fatui!Scaramouche x afab!reader NFSW

Traveling with the famous outland had its perks but it also had its downsides and one of them was constantly bumping into Fatui camps. Every time you go to make camp for the night, you go for a walk for some local fruit only to be grabbed by skirmishers for “trespassing” and brought to the harbinger or boss at the camp. Call it fate or the universe because almost every time you met the harbinger running to camp it was always Scaramouche the Balladeer however after the first two meetings you both began to make snide remarks that eventually led up to a secret budding relationship or at least favoritism on Scaramouche’s part.

He looked forward to your meet-ups since it wasn’t planned and it gave him a bit of a thrill that he was so close to someone he was technically supposed to apprehend and kill. Part of Scaramouche feared you would leave him and put your journey above him which was indeed valid, being able to track you via adventures in the city and being sent to follow the traveler. However one of those meet-ups went a bit wrong as some of the old soldiers that’d seen you before decided their boss wasn’t being as harsh as he should be and put it on themselves to teach you a lesson.

After being kicked and beaten they brought you in and tossed you on the wood flooring of the Balladeer’s office, not caring about you or your whimper you let out and addressing their harbinger. “Lord Harbinger, we found this trespasser spying again on the camp. We thought you’d like to deal with them personally.” Scaramouche looked up with a bored expression and as soon as he saw you all bruised and cut up saw red, slamming his fists against his desk accidentally causing burn marks with his electro abilities and harshly glaring at his pathetic soldiers. “You dare take it upon yourself to give your own orders and deal punishments without my command. I wonder why I have to do everything myself but then I remember my soldiers are all idiotic blind weaklings!” He walked around his desk and got in front of you who was still groaning and trying to not cry from your injuries. “I’ll deal with the rest of you later and be grateful I’m not killing you on the spot now! Leave me and go.”

Sending cold glares that caused them all the freeze before hurrying out and leaving the two of you alone. Once he was sure they were gone Scaramouche locked the door and knelt in front of you, bringing your chin up and clicking his tongue at the damage they’d done to you. “I apologize for my pathetic soldiers for harming you. Let me tend to those injuries.” Grabbing a first aid kit and allowing himself to be soft behind closed doors knowing you’d been through a tough ordeal, cleaning the cuts and bandaging your injuries. The balladeer cupped your face and saw your teary eyes all red, pressing a light kiss to your lips and picking you up carefully before setting you down on top of his desk.

“Let me make it up to you, Name.” You nodded and weakly wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him close between your legs and kissing him sweetly. Humming contently when your lover gently caressed your body like it was glass and breaking the kiss to gasp in air, a heavy blush painting your cheeks as you caught your breath and saw his smug grin. “How I’d love for the world to see how you’re mine and mine alone but that’s a privilege just for me. All flushed and panting ready for me to take you.” He slowly took off your clothes and helped undress your lower half, trailing kisses and hickeys up your legs before finally reaching your cunt.

Licking a long stripe up your pussy and reveling in the lewd cries you made, teasingly kissing your clit and prodding your hole with his tongue. “Scara stop teasing- mhmn~ You said you’d make it up to me.” You looked at the erotic sight of him kneeling in front of you bare and ready to eat you out, carding your fingers through his hair and pleading. Scaramouche pretended to think for a moment and hum, rubbing circles on your inner thigh. “Hm, I guess I could give you a break just for tonight.” Wasting no time and plunging his tongue into your pussy, thumbing your clit, and wrapping his arms around your waist so you could pull away from him. You grip his hair and try to roll your hips, wanting to push his face deeper into your pussy.

It wasn’t long before you reached your climax and toppled over the edge when the balladeer pushed against your G-spot, humming to send vibrations through you and eagerly licking up all your cum dripping from your cunt. He eased you through your orgasm and sweetly kissed your thigh, standing up and leaning his forehead against yours. “I’ll run a bath for you beloved and then I’ll deal with those bastards for daring to harm what's mine.”

[iamnotoriginalphil]

One Touch (Leonora Lesso x f!Reader)

Synopsis: With the gift of prophecy, you see something that shakes you on your first meeting with a certain Dean of Evil

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: very brief smut

Since the day you’d been born you’d been gifted with second sight. A single touch of bare skin and you could see the future of someone. Although it was patchy, and didn’t always work, any vision you’d had had yet to be wrong.

You’d seen all kinds of things. Births, deaths, marriages. First kisses and last kisses. Inane domestic bliss and sword fights. You never knew what was going to come, but you got one glimpse of their future.

Only one, though.

You’d never understood how it worked. Some people you’d never seen anything with, others it had been the first brush of skin, some not until longer into knowing them. If it wasn’t at first touch you’d wait, wondering when it would happen, if it would happen.

It wasn’t much of a power, a sort of one and done thing. Most unimpressive. Still, you’d been called to the School of Good and Evil in order to help assess the future of the students. With the newly merged schools, you had to assume it came from an uncertainty about the new future. You were only too happy to oblige.

Dovey had led the charge to get you settled in, freely offering you her bare hand. Nothing at the first touch, but she’d smiled, not disappointed in the slightest. It was nice, knowing she wasn’t harbouring disappointment at your inability to perform.

It didn’t go so well when meeting Lesso.

“And don’t mind her if she’s a little cold towards you,” Dovey was saying as she swept you down the hallway of the School for Evil, “she wasn’t on board with this. Thought it was a waste of time. Not that she’s particularly warm on a good day.”

Her laugh was high and airy but you could sense the frustration underlying it. You knew exactly the sort of people she was talking about, the kind that wormed their way under your skin until you wanted to scratch yourself bloody just to be rid of them.

With an elegant hand, she knocked on the door in front of her. Not bothering to wait for an answer she pushed the door open, stepping in. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and followed.

You immediately had to take another deep breath. You knew the School for Evil had uglification as a required class but clearly the dean had failed those when she was a student. Resplendent, leaning back in her throne like chair, heavy wooden desk barring any from coming closer, her irritated gaze passed from Dovey to you. You pressed your lips together, trying to calm your heart.

“Why have you brought me this, Dovey?” she asked, turning her head back towards the other woman. Her voice was surprisingly low, husky almost, sending a shockwave through you. You did your best to school your features, but the sound of her voice was the most perfect example of evil you’d ever heard. Inciting and welcoming, asking you to come closer.

“I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet our new-” Dovey began to say.

“Our new Cassandra?” She lifted an eyebrow at you. You felt your cheeks heat up at the comparison, perfectly able to recall the downside of Cassandra’s gift. But people did believe you. You had to believe that.

“Lesso.” The note of warning in Dovey’s voice was appreciated.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you said to her. Her eyes swept over you again before turning back to Dovey.

“You know my feelings on the matter,” she said, carefully controlling her anger.

“There’s no requirement for you to undergo the same treatment as the students,” you said, before Dovey could come to your defence, “if that’s what’s making you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” she scoffed.

“Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind testing my sight,” you said. Looking back, that was where you went wrong. You shouldn’t have egged her on like that.

She rose from her throne fluidly, and only then did you realise she had a cane. You tried not to think about that too hard but her steps were accompanied with a metallic click. She held out her hand to you, head tilting to the side as you reached for it.

Her hand was warm in yours which was the only sense you got before you were somewhere else. You were lying on your back, spread out on a large bed and between your legs was a mass of coppery hair. Your fingers were buried in it as a deft tongue swept through your folds. Glittering eyes looked up at you before lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making pleasure roll through your body.

Gasping, you stumbled away from Lesso. You felt shaky and the ghost of her mouth was still between your legs. You pressed a hand to your eyes, taking a moment to collect yourself. It wasn’t the first time you’d been a player in the visions, but it was the first time you’d experienced a vision such as that.

“What did you see?” Dovey asked, her hands gentle on your shoulders.

“Just…” You couldn’t say it out loud, you couldn’t, “lessons.”

You knew your shaky voice hadn’t gone unnoticed by either woman. When you finally could bring yourself to look at Lesso her gaze was intent, interested, and if it had been any other vision you might have been feeling gratified by her change of heart. As it was, all you wanted was her searching gaze off you.

“Lessons?” she asked, and you knew she was incredulous at your explanation.

“A fight broke out,” you said, “you… handled it.”

You weren’t sure how much they were believing of your answer but you knew this would be a secret you took to the grave. How could you admit that you’d seen her between your own thighs, the vestiges of the pleasure still in your body? You couldn’t.

“I should um… I still need to unpack.”

You fled from the room, ignoring the surprised noises from Dovey. You raced back over to the other school, climbing the stairs two at a time, desperate to lock yourself away in your room. You wanted Lesso out of your head but you could still feel the ghost of her tongue on you, the heat pooling in your lower stomach. The way she’d been looking at you, it was like she wanted to devour you.

You did your best to avoid her after that. Move in day came and went, students sent to see you as their teachers saw fit. It was easy to lose yourself in the future of others, but in the back of your mind it was still there, the image of her, the feel of her, the pleasure so quick to surface when you were least expecting it.

Just that short image was enough to have you touching yourself in bed, when the doors were locked and the students were sure to be asleep. You hated yourself for it, but you were desperate for release, to not be haunted by it. If only that worked. It was as if the feeling had made it’s home in you, waiting for the moment your prediction came true.

And come true it would. They always did.

On one particular night when you were determined not to give in to the temptation of your own fingers, you found yourself walking through the garden. You wanted her out of your head but you knew the likelihood of that happening was low. You tilted your head back, closing your eyes to drink in the scent of the flowers around you.

“I didn’t take you for a coward.”

You blinked your eyes open, knowing the voice before you turned. It was like it was burned into your skull, the way that voice sounded in your ears. Husky and deep, rich like satin but rough like velvet. Many a night you’d wondered what it would sound like moaning your name.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Lady Lesso,” you said, finally looking at her.

Her eyes were bright in the moonlight, pinning you down as she slowly advanced towards you, each step sure and steady. You bit down on your lower lip and her gaze zeroed in on it.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said.

“I thought you didn’t want me here,” you said, “smarter to make myself scarce.”

“I might believe that,” she hummed, “if I hadn’t seen your reaction to whatever vision you had about me.”

“I told you-“ you began.

“That it was a fight during lessons, yes, I know.” She stopped close enough for you to smell the ink and blood and winter wind on her skin. “You were lying.”

“Why would I lie about that?” you asked, almost trembling under her gaze.

“My question exactly.”

With the head of her cane she tilted your chin up until you were looking her in the eye. You had to swallow past the lump in your throat, wanting to draw back, to cower, but she held you in place.

“So I suppose now I have to wonder whether you’ll tell me, or if I’ll have to guess,” she said.

“Why does it matter?” you asked, voice barely more than a whisper, “I thought you didn’t care.”

“I care when it warrants such a strong reaction from you,” she said, “shall I guess?”

“You won’t-“ you began to say before she pressed her finger to your lips. You squeaked, head jerking back as she laughed.

“I think perhaps you saw me in what you’d consider a compromising position,” she said, “a position requiring far less clothing than I’m currently wearing. A position where I’m moaning.”

“Someone was certainly moaning,” you muttered under your breath.

Her smile spread over her face and her eyes sparkled with delight. You cursed yourself for not being able to stop yourself from saying something. Of course she’d heard you. Of course.

“You saw me in bed with someone,” she said, “now the question is why you wouldn’t just tell me that. Were you worried I wouldn’t like my partner?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, not able to look at her anymore. Her fingers made contact with your chin, turning you back to her, and her face was closer than you were expecting. Her breath ghosted over your skin and you tried to suppress a shudder.

“Who was it?” she asked and god help you there was no resisting that voice. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Me.”

“I thought it might be,” she said.

You opened your eyes, not sure what to expect. She didn’t look nearly as disgusted as you thought she might, but she was definitely looking at you like she was going to ruin you. Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips and her eyes followed it, darkening. Heat pooled in your stomach again.

“We’re going to have such fun while you’re here,” she murmured.

Her kiss was like a promise, leaving you breathless and desperate for more. Before you could touch her she was drawing back, letting you go, slipping back into the shadows, her chuckle the only thing left behind.

She was definitely going to ruin you.

[bomberqueen17]

Loftus Bralette Construction #2: completion!

yah so i finished the bra and tried it on and it was more comfortable than the RTW bra I'd been wearing so I just left it on the rest of the day, LOL.

But anyway I'll detail the rest of the sewing of it, and what I've learned and what I plan to do next.

[image description: a bent sewing needle, held between my fingers]

So the first thing I learned is that sewing through the many layers where the bra cup is attached to the band is enough that it'll snag on the feed dogs and if you try to pull it through you'll bend your needle. Had to yank out the entire bobbin raceway/case assemblage to free the bent needle so I could get it out and retrieve the in-progress bra, and then reinserting the whole bobbin assembly took forever to get right. So, don't recommend.

A bit later I shattered another needle when I misjudged how much of the metal eye there was underneath the fabric of the preassembled hook-and-eye closure I was inserting. They only came in a pack of 5 so maybe I need to order more microtex needles....

I wear glasses, but if I didn't, I wouldn't wear goggles to sew but I'd know I should, LOL.

Anyway. Bra sewing is not for the faint of machine. I am using an old mechanical Kenmore that fears nothing. I can't set the stitch width very easily, but that's the only downside I can find.

Attaching the band was wildly confusing. I'd watched the sewalong and it had seemed straightforward enough, but the written directions were baffling. They wanted you to pin... the center in place... from the top... then turn the entire bra and pin from? the other side? what?

I tried to follow the directions, failed entirely to get the thing on, and had to retreat upstairs to seam-rip and rewatch the sewalong.

She has you pin the center, then sew the waistband V to one side of the center gore, then sew it to the other side of the center gore, then pin the rest in place and sew the rest. And that worked. That is not what the written instructions say to do. I'm still not sure what the written instructions say to do. I could not decipher them in any way at all. (By "turn" do they mean like, fold the thing to get at it from the other side? or do they mean like, rotate the whole assemblage, to work on the same surface but from a different angle? what the fuck.)

But I did manage to get the band attached, in the end!

[image description: a pink bra with a black, inverted-v elastic waistband lying atop a sewing machine.]

i then had to attach the straps, and as I was doing it I was like "this is dumb I should make them shorter every bra ever has had straps too long for me" and I remembered someone asking "why put adjustable straps on a homemade bra you're making to measure" and the pattern designer or someone answering "because the elastic might stretch over time" but i'm here to tell you a little secret, those elastic sliders never fucking stay where i put them, every single bra i own the first thing i do when i get it is adjust those sliders as short as they go, and that's the first thing i do every time i put that bra on for its entire life, and it is still never short enough and sometimes i have altered RTW bras to remove the sliders and make the straps permanently shorter. But I was like "no they wrote the pattern like this for a reason i'll do it" and then. I got the straps on. And got the hook and eye closure installed. And I put the bra on.

And the straps are way too fucking long, like minimum three inches too long, and won't stay adjusted shorter and even at the shortest adjustment are too long.

So score 1 for whoever was like "putting adjustable elastic on a made to measure garment is silly", they were one hundred percent right. I have picked /cut the elastic back off and am going to just sew some on at a fixed length about three inches shorter than the pattern as written. I was completely wrong: i do not need or want adjustable straps. If the elastic stretches out over the lifetime of the garment, I will unpick it and sew it again shorter. The sliders never work and I don't know why I bought in to the propaganda that they would when I know better.

Anyway: making this not-rebloggable because I'm going to include a photo of the garment on, and I don't need that to be rebloggable. It can just stay in its original context here. Not that it's racy. But:

[image description: a size 38J non-wired bra, pale pink with peach elastic and a black waistband, worn by a torso that fills it out pretty well, with just a few wrinkles in the center gore and arms raised out of frame.]

The high center gore doesn't suit me, so I'll do the next one at the lower line option. The lack of pressing the seams shows; the seams are blocky and my boobs have low-poly corners, LOL. The Sharpie marks are funny everywhere. And I could stand to have less volume at the bottom of the cups so my boobs fill out the tops of the cups a little better, somehow. Not sure how to alter that.

But what I've done is I've since cut out a second one, using the nice kit I bought, and first I very carefully shaved down the edges of the paper pattern pieces, which i had cut out with my usual not super high level of care. But these pieces need to be very precise, and the seam allowances-- well, drawing the sew line on was good as an idea but in practice I missed it much of the time when I was actually sewing, because I couldn't see it or the fabric slid or various other reasons. What I need to do is use a seam guide to make sure I'm really sewing at the full 1/4" seam allowance, which I rather often wasn't. And that means there's a little extra space in this bra that I don't need.

But the fit is not bad really!!! so I'm going to go ahead and make my next one in the same size, and make it nicely, with all new notions and shit that matches, and doing all of the finish-as-you-go shit, the topstitching and the pressing and whatnot. And then we'll see how that one fits, and maybe refine things from there.

I got no cat photo for the finale here because I turned the a/c on today and the cat has retreated to the attic, which is not air conditioned, so she can sleep in the desert heat, which she prefers. (No we don't live in a desert but she likes to pretend.)

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story II: Graves

[Story 1 - Konchar] [AO3]

Ah yes, the oneshot I promised 4 months ago. I got sidetracked with bloodhunger, and I'm still busy with uni (when am I not...), but I finally found time to write Graves' story! I'll be honest, I kinda procrastinated on this because I wasn't sure I would be able to really capture his voice correctly, but I like how this turned out.

I got a few more characters on the list for side stories, but if you're interested in seeing anyone in particular, you're welcome to suggest them!

“You’re such a piece of shit, Graves!”

Philip smiles as wide as his mouth full of dry MRE cake allows him to, “I know you’re the one that put boot polish inside my shoes two weeks ago, Collins. Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

Collins’ face twists in anger, in a way that is quite satisfying to him, “I was fuckin’ saving that cake for after the op.”

“I know.” Philip swallows, grin finally able to stretch across his face. Collin doesn’t grace him with another reply, instead stomping away while muttering curses under his breath. Serves him right.

He leans back against the armored truck they’ll use for infil, in about half an hour from now. He’s been ready far before that, always the first on the tarmac. He has to, if he wants to be in his superior officers’ good graces, if he wants that promotion.

Being a Corporal is nice and all, but Philip aims higher than that. He thinks – no, knows he wasn’t made to follow orders till the day he dies. No, he’s much better suited to command, to lead, to make the final call.

He just needs to make the higher brass see that as well.

Among the buzzing activity of the final preparations for the upcoming operation, Philip spots Lieutenant Reed inspecting a crate of equipment. The man is build like a shit brick house, all 6’4 inches of pure muscle. That’s not to mention the Lieutenant’s special little revenant status, which makes sure that even if you manage to shoot the giant bastard, he’ll get back up quicker than any human being should. Apparently, healing powers are quite common for soldier revenants, not that it matters when their kind is as rare as it is.

A pang of jealousy shoots through him, at the sheer power the man clearly exudes just by standing there. It goes away quickly enough.

Lieutenant Reed is a great commander, don’t get him wrong, but Philip always thought he was too… caught up by his own moral compass. More concerned with doing what’s just, instead of doing what’s right. Admirable, but dangerous on the field.

A man who puts his and his squad’s life over the mission, is not a man who will go far. A man that puts things like righteousness over the mission…

Philip pities him, really. Reed could’ve been a General by now, if he understood that. But he’s grateful, in a way, that the Lieutenant is the way he is, to teach him this lesson.

The Lieutenant’s eyes meet his, and he motions with his head to move. He ruminated around long enough – time to get to work.

The mission is simple, a milk run, really. When he enlisted, Philip expected to be constantly fighting, to truly feel with each shot how he changes things in the world.

He sure didn’t expect to be loaded up in the back of a truck with five other soldiers, and act as basically a glorified delivery man, transporting gear to an American base in another part of a foreign country.

Those were the fantasies of a younger, stupider Philip. He now knows just how much is required to upkeep a base, both from first-hand experience and from his studies on his time off. After all, being the best doesn’t only come down to his physical abilities, it demands the best mind, the strongest will, the smartest of tactics.

This means he’s got less time to socialize with the soldiers in his unit, but he’s truly not mourning that. They seem like a bunch of idiots anyway. It only motivates him further to get the next promotion, if only to get away from them.

The downside to that, is that Philip barely knows the last names of the people currently in the truck with him. Lieutenant Reed is in a truck ahead of theirs, his rank high enough to grant him the privilege of not being shoved between crates and sweaty recruits.

Philip keeps half of his attention on the low conversation between the soldiers next to him, scanning the empty, dry grasslands surrounding the road.

“Heard the fellas up north have been attacked, last time a convoy went through.” a soldier he thinks might be Johnson murmurs.

Collins answers from the other side of the truck, “yup, I got a friend there. Two from his unit died.”

Maybe-Johnson shakes his head with a huff, “fuckin’ gangs man… The US might as well fund them, with the amount of supplies they drive right to their doorstep…”

“Think we’ll meet them today?” another soldier joins (Gonzalez? Fuck if he knows).

“If we do, I’m going to wipe ‘em out.” Collins grins, and Philip has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t wipe out his grandma, let alone several trained gang members. “‘Sides” he continues, “we got the LT on our side.”

Gonzalez (???) laughs, “damn right we do! Can’t kill a man twice, can ya?”

Philip internally groans, jaw tightening. They think Reed is some sort of immortal, just because he died once and survived. A fucking bullet to the head would kill him all the same. The only thing the Lieutenant is truly invincible from is infection and diseases - what originally killed him. If any of these bastards ever bothered to pick up a book, they’d know that.

He apparently didn’t manage to school his features well enough, since Collins turns to address him, “what’s with the face, Graves?”

Philip does roll his eyes this time, “just because Reed is a revenant doesn’t mean y’all can just sit back and relax, he’s just one person.”

The road they’re on cuts through a hill, casting long shadows over them.

“Yeah, a person that heals from a stab wound in half an hour!”

“Those are just rumors.” Philip spits, “have any of you ever looked at the actual reports??”

A few soldiers groan as Collins answers, “not all of us are fuckin’ suckups, bro.”

Philip watches the lot of them laugh, a sharp smile slowly spreading on his lips, “not all of us are going to become Sergeants, bro.”

The laughter dies, Collins’ face twists in anger familiarly, “you’ve always been a piece of shit-”

The world becomes bright white for a moment, screams Philip later registers as his own rip out of his chest as the truck swerves and crashes.

His ears ring, limbs refusing to listen to his orders. “Hrgh… shit…” he forces his eyes open, as his hearing returns.

Gunshots flash between the wreckage and the top of the hills, soldiers taking cover behind the upturned truck. It seems like he was the only one blown away this far.

The fuckin’ gang must’ve hit him directly. Just his damn luck.

Philip tries to crawl forward, not particularly keen on staying alone with no cover, but even that small movement shoots intense pain through his body, his vision darkening for a few seconds. He winces, carefully turning to look at his torso and legs.

He swallows down the bile rising to his mouth, blinking down at the deep craters at his right hip. That… can’t be his own body, right? He thinks he sees bone.

Another RPG whistles through the air, missing the truck by only a few feet. His squad turns around, shooting down the gang members attempting to corner them from their flank.

He needs to get to them. They should have enough knowledge of first aid to at least stop the bleeding, or give him a stim shot, fuckin’ anything!

Philip starts screaming, “HELP!!! I’M STILL ALIVE!!!!!” he grits his teeth, desperation starting to crack his voice as he realizes he might actually die here, “COLLINS!!! GONZALEZ!!! HELP!!!!!”

Hope bubbles within him when he sees Collins turn his head to his direction, searching for the source of the shouts in the shadows. Philip raises his arm as far as he can, waving it to catch Collins’ attention.

He thinks it might be the first time he ever felt actual happiness to see Collins’ stupid green eyes lock onto his.

“I CAN’T MOVE, YOU GOTTA FUCKIN’ HELP ME!” he yells, pointing to his right leg.

Collins’ eyes trail down, to the puddle of blood coloring the grass under Philip red. He lifts a hand to his comms, mouth moving too fast for him to read.

He must’ve reported his condition to Reed. Collins is not completely useless, Philip muses.

Collins nods in response to whatever Reed told him, and Philip’s heart drops when he turns away from him, and points to the forest.

They… they’re not gonna run, are they? They’re not gonna leave him here, bathing in his own damn blood, right?!

Yet, that’s exactly what they do. The five soldiers, his own teammates, wait for an opening in the relentless shooting from the hostiles, and run. Without him.

Philip shouts again, anger now booming through his throat, “COLLINS! YOU FUCKING COWARD, COME BACK!!! DON’T LEAVE ME HERE, I’LL DIE!!!!! WE’RE ON THE SAME SIDE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, HELP- HELP ME!!!”

Collins doesn’t even look back once, and Philip watches the figures of his squad disappear between the trees. He screams in frustration, hands shaking in fury.

His mind returns to the moment Collins nodded. Lieutenant Reed… he must’ve told them to disengage. Ordered them to leave him behind to bleed out.

A hysterical laugh shakes his shoulders. So much for ‘no man left behind’, eh, Lieutenant? Fucking hypocrite. Philip hopes that wherever revenants go after they die, Reed will suffer for the rest of his existence.

His laugh devolves into choked sobs when the reality of his situation sinks in. He’s gonna die. He’s going to die because his own team abandoned him.

Philip always knew they were useless, but he expected them to at least not fuckin’ betray him, y’know? 

As his vision fades for the last time, Philip smiles. Not because he accepts his fate, no.

But it’s nice to know he was right, the whole damn time.

“Philip Graves”

“Graves”

“Graves”

Philip’s eyes snap open, and he inhales sharply. It takes him a few moments to comprehend he’s not in that damn valley he was abandoned in. He’s… not anywhere on Earth… is he?

His own reflection stares at him, multiplied over countless times, like a hall of mirrors in a carnival. He raises a hand to his right side, pressing tentatively at first, and digging into the muscles when he realizes his wounds have been healed.

…What is this place?

“This is my Realm”

“Realm”

“Realm”

Several voices echo around him, and Philip looks around only to see his own wide blue eyes.

“W-where are you?!” he snarls, fear beating at his heart.

“Up”

“Up”

“Up”

He cranes his head up, mouth opening in shock at the creature above him.

A writhing mass of limbs coils onto itself, arms and legs and faces, creating the vague shape of a person. Its face is blank, nothing but a maw. 

“You’re… a Reaper…” Philip mutters dumbly.

“The Reaper of Many”

“Many”

“Many”

The Reaper leans closer, Philip’s body shaking at the sheer scale of it, “so I did d-die.”

He doesn’t know how, but he gets the feeling the Reaper grins at the words.

“YES” “YES” “YES” a terrifying chorus of voices confirms. The twitching limbs seem to move quicker in excitement, “TELL ME, PHILIP GRAVES, WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

Philip covers his ears at the screeching Reaper, eyes squeezed shut in agony. In the back of his mind, he remembers the transcript from interviews of revenants, of this very question they all had to respond to.

Of the identical answer they all give.

“I just- I JUST WANT TO LIVE!!!”

Philip’s quick breaths slow down, when the Reaper doesn’t scream again.

“I just want to live…” he repeats, opening his eyes and lowering his arms. After a few moments of nothing, he finds the courage to look up.

The Reaper’s hand is hovering above him, finger uncurled and pointing to him.

“Give me your soul, Philip Graves, and I’ll let you live” 

“live” 

“LIVE”

Philip nods shakily, “It’s yours, Reaper.”

Giggling bounces between the mirrors surrounding him, gleeful and horrendous. The finger moves closer, Philip leaning back on instinct alone. It feels like his blood is boiling over, brain liquifying into mush, yet he physically can’t open his mouth to scream.

“From this day on, until the day you die, Philip Graves, you are mine.”

“Mine”

“MINE”

The Reaper touches his forehead, his vision flashing with bright colors he doesn’t have a name to.

“My revenant, Revenant of Many”

“Many”

“MANY”

“MANY”

“MA-”

Someone is shaking his arm. Philip pushes away, scrambling back. He opens his eyes.

Something decidedly not human greets him.

“The fuck-” Philip curses.

“The fuck-” the creature answers. It doesn’t have a mouth, or any defining features. Barely a dark shape, like someone cut out the silhouette of a person out of the fabric of reality.

Philip feels an odd presence in his mind, like dozens of eyes looking up at him, awaiting command.

The valley is quiet. He looks up at the hills, finding more shapes lingering, all looking at him. Philip looks back at the one that touched him.

“What are you?”

The shape answers by echoing his voice, “-you?”

Philip breathes out a small laugh, hand carding into his hair in amazement.

His admiration of his new powers is cut short by the sound of an engine. Philip jumps to his feet, body still feeling a phantom pain of sorts, and orders his shapes, “disappear.”

In a blink, the shapes melt away into the shadows. He runs to the woods, taking cover behind a thick tree trunk when the vehicle rolls around the bend into the valley.

Philip’s eyes narrow when he sees that the vehicle is none other than the US military’s. He averts his eyes, scrutinizing the setting sun. It has been at least several hours since Collins and his group of dickheads left him to die.

The vehicle stops near the wreckage, the fire burning the truck long extinguished. Lieutenant Reed out of all people climbs out, instantly ordering his men to clear the area of hostiles. Burning rage ignites within Philip at the sight.

Without his will, the shadows around him materialize, blank faces all staring at him.

He gets an idea. It’s stupid, and frankly will probably put him in a lot more trouble than it’s worth, but honestly Philip literally died a few hours ago and so did his fucks to give.

“Seize them.” he tells his shapes, his Shadows.

The dozen or so Shadows instantly start running, tackling the squad of soldiers. Philip barely contains a laugh at their terrified screams. One of them manages a shot on a Shadow, but the creature simply ignores the gaping hole in his thigh, and wrestles the man down.

Lieutenant Reed needs two Shadows to force him to kneel, but soon enough they all stay down, lined up on the dirt road.

“If this is how it feels to be a revenant, I would be a cocky bastard too”, Philip thinks to himself while looking at Reed.

“Lieutenant, what the fuck are these- these things?!” one soldier asks frantically.

Reed growls, fruitlessly attempting to shake off the Shadow restraining him, “revenant powers. But I’ve never seen something like this-”

Philip chooses this moment to reveal himself, “impressive, aren’t they? I’d say they’re a fair trade to dying, wouldn’t you, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Reed’s face slackens in shock, “...Corporal Graves?”

He smiles unkindly, “the one and only. Tell me…” he crouches in front of Reed, “when you ordered Collins and his group of bumbling idiots to abandon me and run away, did you even feel a speck of remorse? If not for me, at least for my poor mother, that would’ve had to live with the fact the men that were supposed to be on his side left him to die?”

The Lieutenant at least seemed to pretend to be horrified, “I- it was the Commander, not me, Graves. I didn’t make the call to leave you behind, kid-”

Philip cuts him off with a few slow claps, “wow, Lieutenant. I’ve already gathered you’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, but a liar as well? You should’ve been an actor instead of a soldier, sir. You’ve got a natural talent right there.”

His digging remarks only seem to make Reed more guilty, “...I may have not made that order, but I take responsibility over my soldiers. You didn’t deserve to die, Graves. I’m sorry.”

Philip falters at the genuinely heartfelt apology. He didn’t expect Reed to actually be sorry about it. It only twists something in his gut further.

Philip’s voice loses the mocking tone it had before, “you have nothing to apologize for, sir. Without you, I would’ve never received such power.” he spreads his arms, motioning to his Shadows.

Reed’s brows curve upwards, regret painting his features, “really, I should thank you, Lieutenant.”

Philip grins as wide as his mouth allows him, not a lick of joy within it, “thank you, for letting me die alone.”

He knew he’ll get in trouble once he arrives back to base, but he didn’t expect Major Shepherd to be the one disciplining him.

Philip knows to dread the punishment the moment the Major opens the door, his face severe as ever as he dismissed the other officers in the room.

He rises to his feet, saluting the Major, before the man waves him off.

Shepherd takes the sit in front of him, staring him down for a few tense moments before speaking, “Corporal Philip Graves. Do you know how much shit you’ve put yourself into, with that little ‘prank’ you did to Lieutenant Reed and his squad?”

Philip doesn’t shy away from the Major’s burning gaze, “yes sir.”

Shepherd doesn’t look impressed, “the Lieutenant told me about your powers. Which Reaper got you?”

“Reaper of Many, sir.”

“Reaper of Many… can’t say I’ve met a revenant from it.” the Major drawls, “most of your kind belongs to the Reaper of Flesh.”

The one in charge of healing… Reed’s Reaper.

“Your powers are exceptionally strong, Graves.” Shepherd smiles, oddly enough.

Philip blinks, taken off guard by the praise, “... thank you, sir?”

The Major leans back, his demeanor less serious, “no need for formalities right now, Graves. I’d like to speak to you as an equal at the moment.”

…What is the Major’s angle here? He doesn’t seem angry at him anymore.

“About what?”

Shepherd smirks, something about it raising the hairs on Philip’s arms, “What do you see yourself doing, four, five years down the line?”

“...What?”

“Your aspirations, Graves. Aiming for Lieutenant? Captain?”

Philip frowns in confusion, “Commander, sir.”

“Commander, huh?” Shepherd hums, “I have a… proposition for you, Graves.”

Proposition? “I’m listening.”

“What do you think about PMCs?”

The rapid change in topic leaves Philip unsteady in his answers, “they’re… I think they’re necessary, but I’d rather stay with the US military. I want to fight for my country.”

Shepherd looks… disappointed? “Listen, son. I think you’re a great soldier, and you have been given great power to control. People like you… the military will just hold you back.”

Philip inhales deeply. Is Shepherd saying what he thinks he’s saying?

The Major continues, “I think you’ll do much better outside the red tape, Philip.” he pulls out a contract, a frankly absurdly high stack of papers, “I’d like you to work for me. Not as my subordinate, but as a collaborator.”

Philip stares at the papers, “you… you want me to leave the army?”

“Exactly. I want you to become your own PMC. I believe, with your amount of strength, other soldiers will just get in your way.” Shepherd adds, almost like an afterthought, “and you won’t need to worry about any sort of punishment about your actions today, your death will be completely redacted, and the Lieutenant ordered to keep his mouth shut.”

He looks back at the Major’s eyes, deep gratitude welling inside him. Shepherd offers his hand to him, right above the contract that will finally grant him what he worked years for, as easily as writing his own name.

Graves takes the offering, and shakes the Major’s hand.

“My Shadows will be at your service, Shepherd.”

Shepherd smiles, satisfied, “already prepared for your first mission, Commander Graves?”

Commander Graves. He thought it would take years until he was granted the name.

Graves flashes a grin, “was reborn ready, Major.”

[missmyloko]

Getting To Know Me - Part 7

On The Second Day of Fun I present... more about me! This one's pretty personal and something that I've wanted to write about for a long time as I know that this affects many of you as well. I want you all to know that you're not alone and that you can still succeed even with challenges put ahead of you. I don't exactly hide it, but I also don't go around advertising that I suffer from various mental illnesses. I think it's amazing how far we've come as a society even in the past ten years when it comes to talking about such a subject, but there's still plenty of work to do, especially around the stigma of having a mental illness in the first place. For something that will affect every adult at some point in their lives, with at least 25% of the global population suffering from chronic conditions, we need to make these "invisible" diseases visible, so I'm going to be doing my part for that today. Back in the 1990s when I was growing up there weren't really any mental health supports for children, which is a shame as I could have been diagnosed much sooner than 16. I had major depressive disorder by the time I was 12 and generalized anxiety disorder materialized not too long after that. The worst thing about being undiagnosed wasn't just that no one knew what the heck was wrong with me, but rather the panic attacks. I only learned what a panic attack was after my sister was diagnosed with them, and I had realized that's what I had been experiencing for years. I look back and wonder sometimes how I survived those days when, and I kid you not, I would have over 30 panic attacks each day. Nothing particular set them off, they just happened because my brain was just that imbalanced. So, my sister got diagnosed, I realized that's what I had, and I went to the doctor to get diagnosed too. Originally my parents were against me taking any pills because they thought that I was making it all up and that the doctor had somehow been mistaken, but soon the medication managed to prove them wrong. My panic attacks stopped. My grades shot up. I started making lifelong friends. I was a changed person, and for the better. My only downside was weight gain that no one told me about being a side effect. I had gone from being a 110lb twig to a 160lb well, me, in a matter of months. When that medication stopped working I ended up losing the weight, but being overweight in your final year of high school isn't exactly a plus. Besides that, high school ended on a decent note, and when I eventually went to university everything started okay, but that was a whole new stressor, and with it came another challenge: another new diagnosis. At 20 I became formally diagnosed with OCD, and I don't mean just small ocd but BIG OCD. I don't know if it was the stress along with my medications not working to their full potential that triggered it, but it was bad. Intrusive thoughts, repetitive rituals, and counting had taken over my life. I don't really remember how quickly it came on, but I do remember how much of my life it took over, how many excuses I made to try and hide it, and how thankful I was that I was able to get help relatively quickly in order to see a social worker about doing CBT and other programs for controlling OCD. To be continued in part 2.

[canyouhearthelight]

Nihilus Rex, Ch. 22: Banking Embers

Okay, so I was so busy patting myself on the back for getting a chapter up that I totally missed that it was the wrong chapter. Insert me smacking myself in the face when @baelpenrose pointed out.

Thankfully everything still applies: a good mix of fluff and machinations, and very much more co-written than beta read. Whew!

When Rome's in ruins

We are the lions

Free of the coliseums

In poisoned places

We are anti-venom

We're the beginning of the end

Tonight

The foxes hunt the hounds

It's all over now

Before it has begun

And we've already won

Fall Out Boy, “Young Volcanoes

Lash

Nils eventually came out of the master suite, carrying a bottle and sniffing it suspiciously. “This isn’t mine.”

I rolled my eyes and held out my hand. “White boy hair oil and brown girl hair don’t necessarily work well together. Thank you, I’ll stick it in my bag. Sorry.”

He snatched it back. “Nope. I like it, it’s staying here. In case you need another shower. Only practical. I’ll buy you another bottle on the way to take you home.” 

I smothered a smile as he padded barefoot back to the bathroom, returning seconds later to take his position on the far end of the couch - at some point, we had established ‘our’ seats, although I couldn’t pinpoint when. But his was on the left, mine was on the right. Everywhere. I shook myself out of my thoughts. “Food is ordered - hope saag paneer and double extra garlic naan is okay. I still can’t stomach the idea of meat at the moment.”

“Sounds perfect.” He leaned back in the couch. “So, what was so nuts about my idea that it beats…whatever movie we were going to watch?” 

“I didn’t say it was nuts, I said it was interesting,” I pointed out. “But to your point. Firstly, I am constantly caught off guard by how hopeful you can be for someone who is so pessimistic.  I don’t mean that as an insult, by the way.  But, secondly… I think it could work if - and only if - we think in the very long term.  Not scales of weeks, months, or years, but we’re talking generations.  Lifetimes.”

“A sunrise we’ll never see?” His tone was pensive. “Or in the sense that it will be an ongoing project whose endpoint will take several lifetimes beyond our own?” 

“In the sense that it may not even be the best idea if we live to see the sun finish setting,” I responded as gently as possible. “Studies show that sustainable, lasting change - good or bad - is done over time to gain momentum.”

“Which has the singular downside that I don’t know that’s time we have.” Nils said, thinking. “Behold the climate. There are places we can challenge capitalist control, and places we can replace it, fairly rapidly. We didn’t do it with debts, no, but we proved it could be done, that the system was weaker than people thought, and we got away clean. A lot of why rapid change is impossible to sustain is that the system is too load bearing, so our first play has to be to prove that we can take those loads away - which has the advantage of making us look like winners and making the powers-that-be look like conquerable fools. How many revolutions fail before they start simply because people don’t try? Because they think the system is invincible?”

I reached out and squeezed his thumb affectionately. “Hey, I agree. Keep in mind, I’m not beating the ‘Go Vote’ drum as the be-all-end-all, here.  We can definitely pull away those theoretically load bearing systems, one at a time, provided we are smart about what they are supposed to be propping up and how much we care if those loads crumble. Case in point, the debt heist we just did.”

The familiar, laughing-at-a-far-away-joke smile played about his lips as he looked at me, eyes focused entirely in the moment. “That’s why we’re partners. Never would have worked as well without you. I wouldn’t be trying this without you.” He reached out and gently squeezed my hand. “We can pick our targets carefully, but at some point we’re going to inspire copycats - and those people should have some means of finding us, so that we can guide them a bit, so they don’t fuck it up.” 

I shook my hair out, thinking.  Reaching back, I started twisting it, looking around and finding a pen to shove through it and keep it balanced. “We honestly aren’t all that sneaky, outside of the fact that we are very openly doing this under online personas that are very much hard to trace back to real people.  But I agree, we need something like a council - proxy real people who copy cats can reach out to when we are asleep or busy.  Like… Bishop, for sure. Weasel is out. Bryce may actually be a good option, though.”

Nils shook his head. “He wasn’t reliable to not steal from you and finish the job. He’ll roll over on us for any reward money in a heartbeat.” 

I pointed at him and winked. “Exactly. Bryce is motivated by money, pure, plain, and simple. We know what to watch out for, and we know how to hack him. Weasel… we can’t pay him in enough of his preferred currency to keep him from turning in half a breath. But Bryce?  Has a gambling addiction, a few hundred thousand in student loans, and parents who are always a hair away from cutting him off. If we can redirect some ill-gotten billionaire funds to keep him from getting killed by loan sharks, he’ll be loyal.”

“Point the first: We just torched a huge swathe of student debt, that was literally my original goal. Gambling addiction though, that’s interesting.” I thought about it. “My issue is that if the FBI offers enough he may take a bigger payday from them. Consider it for now, not a hard no. I like Bishop though. And we’re going to want someone to manage the psychopaths a little more directly, ideally someone who understands…frankly, weapons, tactics, and ideally isn’t a racist psychopath I have to string along with mind games.”

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” I suggested, just as the food arrived. “Am I safe to grab that, or should you?”

“I’ll get it.” He got up and headed down to go grab the food at the door. When he got back, he set the food down on the table and set out a plate in front of each of us. “Good call, this stuff smells amazing.”

I smiled. “Thank yew, thank yew. I could eat this every day, mass murder notwithstanding.” I started scooping rice and curry onto my plate before continuing. “So. Yes, we need a council, persons beyond Bishop to be determined. But we also need a figurehead.” With my fork, I pointed at my face vaguely. “Clearly not the person to visibly converse with racists, which are our primary market currently.” I started swirling the tines in his general direction. “However, you? Mr. Rich Boy Who Hates the Rich? Perfect.”

“We have to network with people who will look at my…everything…and know we’re bullshit, though. Ideally, we may want to have two different figureheads, for interacting with different crowds. You for our actual side of things, me for the rowdy and violent crowd? Bear in mind, we’re gonna need actual activists to set up the community shit to take advantage of whatever we do with our pawns.” 

“Activists don’t care what you look like,” I agreed before shoving a chunk of spinach covered cheese in my face and chewing thoughtfully. “But yeah, I can organize the actuals on the back end while you rally the minions in the front.   Right now, front work is going to be our focus.  Did the dead guys have life insurance? Families?”

“Based on chatter? One did. It came up alot.” His tone was unconcerned as he heaped his plate. “Are we thinking hitting life insurance next? For that matter, are we reaching out for a mutual edge? Get payouts for the victims of the fire and the widows and orphans of our retribution? An easy way to reunite “our” forces and get them refocused on the real enemy.” 

I waffled my hand while I chewed on naan. Swallowing I managed to get out, “Kind of both? Don’t get me wrong, if we just wiped out their mortgage and they still bombed the cafe? We can pro-rate that insurance, I know the math.  But also.” I started gesturing with my fork again. “Did you know that, in the absence of a clear beneficiary, most life insurance defaults to the state after three to ten years?  Waste of funds, plus the interest goes to the state, regardless. It’s gross.”

“That is uniquely disgusting,” he said, before shoving a large hunk of naam into his mouth. “Or, I’d say so if I hadn’t heard about. Other theft the state likes doing. But that’s directly addressable, right now.” 

I nodded enthusiastically. “So, you’re picking up what I’m putting down: unclaimed and excessive life insurance. Reroute that shit.”

“Sounds perfectly agreeable to me. To the poor, or to the recently widowed and orphaned of the country? I think both would be…pretty funny.” 

“Tired, poor, and huddled masses,” I toasted with a chunk of naan, rice, and curry. “Fuck the yearning, let’s make them free. Food banks, medical debts - until we can wipe those out - Hey.” I set my food down for a second. “Funnel the funds into a medical debt jubilee? Would that work better, or would another hack work better? We need an accountant or insurance adjuster on staff, I think.”  At this point, I was rambling, but in the groove and happy for once in the last several years.

“Second hack. We drop that kind of cash into the people who are real experts in making it matter the most, they’re legally required to find out who it comes from and how. We’re better off intercepting the shit they can’t buy yet.” Nils was grinning. “We can find an accountant though. Gotta be a way to start dumping money into this machine.” He blushed a bit. “I love seeing you smile again, Lash. For real, not just for cover.” 

I complied with a genuinely enthusiastic, sunny grin, spinach in teeth be damned. “I still think we need a risk-reward specialist on board,” I pointed out. “Keep in mind, we don’t need a licensed adjuster, just a trained one. Think of all the people who get educated in prison and can’t get employed. We can cultivate one, cherry pick.” At this point I was screaming high on endorphins and realized I sounded silly. “Or just… I dunno. Pay one who is willing to take the pay over the ethics. You might be right.”

“You didn’t even wait to hear my objections. I was going to say there’s no one trained for this, because we break that scale at both ends.” He was laughing too. “Then again as we get this council together, we’re probably going to run into that problem a lot if we go as far as we could.” 

I glanced around while I thought, and spotted a surprisingly dusty chess set.  Carefully, I brought it over to the table, set it down, scooted our food over, and sat on the floor. “So here,” I I picked up a king out of the box - it happened to be a white piece, but whatever, it was the first one I saw - “This is basically you.” I set it in place. “You think incredibly well in short term but you put your neck out without caring about the consequences, yes?”

He picked up the black king. “I don’t hate your analysis. But this is the side we’re playing. The system’s had at least one move on us a long time. We’re just moving back to react to the world we’re living in and trying to win anyway. Also, you know you’re setting me up as the piece we can’t win without - that the game ends if they manage to kill me.” He sounded oddly anxious about that concept.

I nodded and fished out the corresponding queen. “In theory, this is me - long term thinking, flexible, but not the figurehead. The movement doesn’t die with me.” Without waiting, I grabbed a bishop. “Obvious. But we need another, so I’m only putting one on the board right now.”  Fully committing to the metaphor, I fished all the pawns out of the box and placed them on the Black side. “These are your pawns. Appropriately, both useful, powerful, and sacrificial.”  To the side, I started setting the rest of the Black pieces. “Here’s what we don’t have.”

“An advisor, two specialists for atypical offense, and two builders to make whatever we want last. Okay.” He took a look. “Not king and queen of much of a court.” He glanced at me. “You were born to be a queen though, even if when we’re done there’s not going to be much in the way of monarchies.” 

I felt my face flush, and turned away so he wouldn’t see it.  Given how many times I had been subjected to similar pickup lines, I mentally scolded myself while I calmed down. Remember all the stupid lines about Nubian queens when you aren’t even from Africa, I asserted. And how many references to Cleopatra left you with a soggy date and an empty cup. “Capitalism, monarchies, whatever,” I managed to get out, “leaders need a council.  I assume you would object if I placed myself as King’s Rook - the one piece that can swap for the King in an assassination attempt in chess - so I accept being Queen. Fair?”

“We didn’t establish that I really bought the model that you’re more expendable than I am to the movement long-term.” He said, obviously thinking about something. “But if I can’t convince you of that, yes, you’re the queen.” 

I grabbed a bite of my now-cold paneer and nodded as I swallowed. “If it helps your conscience at all, these games rarely get far past the Queen being taken, unless you are playing against an absolute master or a total newb.”

He nodded. “Point.” He then proceeded, speaking in a voice somewhere between supervillain and flirting-teasing, with a grin that indicated he had an entirely new thing to tease me with, “So, ‘my queen,’ do you have a particular preference for the rest of our council that we should contact or discuss this evening?”

My face burning, I managed to keep facing him and steadily respond. “Bishop, first. Ask him for suggestions… Beyond him and Weasel, I don’t think we know a lot of the same folks.”  Surrendering, I dropped my forehead into my palm. “And please, for the love of everything, let me sleep on this big, fluffy, gorgeous couch tonight? I don’t want to even think of blaming anything that happens between us, non-professionally, as being due to trauma.”

He snorted. “I was going to be a gentleman and take the couch, let you have the bed, but if you insist on the couch, I’m not going to force you.” 

I started giggling, possibly out of tired delirium. “I flopped on the bed earlier,” I confessed. “It’s hard as a rock, so I will take the couch and suggest you get a softer bed.”

He shrugged, and boxed up what was left of the food. “Ah. Yeah. We can talk about that, if you were coming over here more often. But for tonight, yeah, take the couch. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows.” 

[zahri-melitor]

And...done with New 52 Gotham

There's a handful of additional titles I'm finishing rounding up (at the last minute I decided to go back and read Batwing, and I'm going to read the Poison Ivy mini) but I have now completed my main read.

The good: I've got a list of comic recommendations coming for what I would actually suggest reading in here if you want an entertaining story, or runs that I think are crucial in that they establish character traits that will continue to be heavily used from Rebirth onwards.

But for now, some general comments on what I've just finished up:

Batman - Snyder is very, very interested in making a statement. And with set pieces interrogating the 'mentality of Batman'. Which gets tiring reading in such a big chunk - he needed more time letting the story breathe and the tension come off. Where's my fill with Bruce chasing Mad Hatter? Not everything needs to be a deep interrogation of the psyche of Batman, and how his presence transforms Gotham city. Jim Gordon as Batman was certainly a thing that happened, and probably didn't need to happen.

Detective Comics - Manapul & Buccellato's run remains the highlight for me. Tomasi, who had the final run (45-52) was incredibly uneven. The first story, about Jim!Batman and the Justice League, was relatively boring. The second story, The Bronze Age, was a compelling mystery and probably the best Jim Gordon as Batman story of the lot. The third story, Our Gordon At War, was a deadly dull piece of military propaganda.

Batman & Robin Eternal - what worked here I think was the extensive supporting cast. It reminded me of the glory days of the early 2000s when Dick and Babs used to run Bat events together with no Bruce. On the downside was that Mother was simply uninteresting to me as she twisted everyone's character to make everything about her. No, I don't actually believe that the Order of St Dumas would let a rando be controlling their potential Azrael. Also way to eliminate basically all of David Cain's autonomy and decisions. It was nice to get Cass back. Shame about how it was achieved. (The incredibly frustrating part about this run is on paper it looks amazing, and there's a handful of decent scenes people like to reference)

Batgirl - ugh. Was ever 'right ideas wrong characters' more embodied than during Burnside? If it was a different character, or a prequel, or I had hit my head back in 1987 after reading the Last Batgirl Story and then picked up Burnside...I could almost cope. But it's just aggravating to read about a character I love so much. I actually don't mind the work to add additional diverse side characters, however I'm sorry, I will remain irritated by Frankie until the end of time. The number of times I have had to sit through reinventions of the Oracle role during n52 because oh no we can't use the REAL ORACLE... because running around as a street hero is clearly more important than Oracle's actual role.

Robin: Son of Batman - I think I'm going to make a lot of people mad when I say, while this is a very interesting Damian Wayne comic, it's a moderately dreadful Robin comic. I can see why people heavily recommend it for Damian, because it's probably the most generous and thought through portrayal of his childhood and relationship with Talia. The word 'Son' there in the title really should be the focus. This is about Damian as a Son of the Al Ghuls, Damian making choices over what he's learnt as Bruce's son before his death, and applying what he learnt from both to find who he is. It's something Damian needed. But it's got nothing to do with being Robin at all.

We are Robin - I loved the brutal groundedness of this comic. It smacks you in the face to pay attention several times. It's about teens, yes. It's about Alfred facilitating children to try and help them survive trying to become vigilantes. It's about what the concept of Robin means to the children of Gotham.

Grayson - I don't think it was using Helena-in-name-only, or the constant objectification of Dick or even the way my brain couldn't slot exactly how all the different secret agencies in DC were revolving around each other into place for this story that irritated me the most. It was how obvious, blatant and unadapted a rip off of James Bond (among other spy properties) it tended to be. I could see the file marks, and a lot of it didn't even feel like a loving homage, it was just "oh my favourite scene was" sort of stuff. Oooh St Hadrian's is a cheap St Trinian's knock off. Whoever would have guessed. Trinian's girls would have run circles around the Hadrian's ones.

Gotham Academy - Look, this is lighthearted fluff that enjoys picking up threads from all over Gotham to reference. I'm not particularly a fan of Brendan Fletcher's general approach to DC storytelling - it's a bit too tween and lighthearted for me - but this is a title where that style was an asset rather than a burden. It didn't require high levels of canonicity because people flitted in and out and the main cast were all original creations for the story. I can see why it's well-loved.

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

I'm curious, were there any worries about writing Naive Melody on how it would be received by your audience? Is there anything that suprised you on how it was received?

it would be easier to list the stuff i wasn’t worried about. It’s got a lot of dark subject matter in edition to being a departure from my usual fair, and the story is only going to get even more off putting as it goes. I’m still a little concerned about how readers are going to react to certain things. I guess the most surprising thing is how positive the response has been so far, but especially in relation to how few responses there have been. This is going to sound kind of stuck up but the downside of being a fairly popular writer is that when something doesn’t hit as much as others, you really notice it. Logically there’s plenty of good reasons for why it’s not as popular (dark subject matter, less popular characters, the mha fandom being on a downturn in general) but i still get in my own head sometimes about what i might be doing wrong. Is the summary not good? Is it too slow to start? Does it need better tags? Thankfully, I haven’t felt the pressure to change the story itself in order to chase numbers. Only major political events can do that.

[enkisstories]

Mutiny on the Steadfast (Ch. 1)

After the battle of Exegol, things are looking good for the Resistance as a whole, but less so for the individual rebels Poe, Finn and Rose, who got captured by the First Order.

To keep the prisoners on their toes and eventually break them, Chief Intelligence Officer Kandia puts them into a cell with the traitor Hux. But she has underestimated both the rebels’ ability to make allies and how far the former General is willing to go to spite anyone who wronged him.

The proud Steadfast being little more than a floating junkyard after Exegol isn’t exactly helping the crew's mood, either. The seed of discontent keeps growing...

(This starts on the same premise as my previous The Wrecking of the Steadfast, but will play out differently. Expect a few faces from the other fic to make a return, though.)

CHAPTER 1: The Stray

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot…

That was how this was going, on principle anyway. In practice the sequence became “searing pain, right foot, searing pain, right foot”. Their prisoner’s visible discomfort didn’t deter the stormtrooper trio from expeditiously marching him down a floor somewhere on the Steadfast’s administration level, where the First Order High Court resided. The capital ship was, after all, the heart of the nomadic First Order, that hadn’t named a planet or space station their seat of government. It had to be said, though, that for all practical purposes this mobile capital was a health and safety hazard at the moment.

Right foot, searing pain, right foot, searing pain, right foot, I should have gotten used to this by now, right foot, but I haven’t, right foot, I hate every last one of you, right foot…

The mind that was thinking those thoughts was housed by a brain in a skull topped with an unruly orange thatch and adorned by a stubble. Even before all other considerations, his current appearance wasn’t doing Armitage Hux’ mood any favors. After several days of captivity he was looking like a thug that the local law enforcement had captured, not like last sane person in the First Order, who had taken it onto himself to cleanse the organization from the Sith disease. Not as clumsy as late Domaric Quinn had tried to do it, of course (the idiot had questioned Kylo Ren during a council session of High Command), but with patience, meticulously planned and executed flawless… near flawlessly. Over the course of a year, Hux had leaked confidential information to the Resistance, bits and pieces carefully curated to ensure Ren’s downfall, while keeping the First Order as a whole as intact as possible. That hadn’t been an easy feat, and for that reason his treason now counted as one of the most satisfying projects he had ever undertaken in the former General’s memory.

The downside of being a mole, though? After compiling everything about your organization that you wanted to relay to the enemy, in case you got found out, your own folks would want you to state everything you revealed to the others to them now, too. To this end the troopers were taking Hux to interrogation like so many times before.

Should have made two copies of each message in the first place, one for either side, Hux thought in a fit of gallows humor.

Right foot, searing pain, right foot, hiss, cuss and right foot again…

Watching his booted feet hit the floor in always the same rhythm, Hux wondered for how long he was looking down already. He had lowered his head only to check on his injured leg, to see whether there was blood oozing into the bandage. But now he was walking for who knew how many steps already with his gaze cast down like an intimidated commoner!

Right foot, searing pain… Ouch, dammit!

There were no bloodstains on the bandage, the prisoner’s torn trousers or the pristine black floor. Wait a moment! If he could see all this…? All of a sudden Hux became fully aware of the fact that unlike all the other times the troopers had taken him interrogation, today he wasn’t blindfolded. And that in turn meant that it didn’t matter anymore what the prisoner saw or didn’t see, because he wasn’t expected to make the return trip! Armitage Hux was going to get executed by whatever means whoever was in command of this floating ruin had decided on. He’d die like he had lived: a weakling, a failure, ridiculed and humiliated. Only this time he wouldn’t be able to get even with his abusers afterwards.

In retrospect there had also been moments when Hux had been on the initiative: Who had finished the New Republic? Who had ensured Kylo Ren’s downfall? Who had…

Never mind. His victories would be forgotten.

Of course Hux could tell himself now that he’d show them how an imperial scion knew to die, but truth was, they’d make it so that he wouldn’t be able to look good in any way, shape or form. His end would be on their terms, not his.

Theirs… His First Order. When had it become “them”?

Suddenly the lights went out. Had the sparsely lit floor seemed dark, now the humans got reminded of what actual pitch black darkness was. The stormtroopers switched their helmets to nightvision and at the same time went into alert mode, as if unseen intruders had sabotaged the floor’s lighting, when in truth the lights had failed same as so many other systems tended to fail in the aftermath of the battle of Exegol.

“Squad?” Hux raised his voice. “Here’s my final order to you: FIRE AT WILL!”

And with these words he dashed forwards. The startled stormtroopers fired and would have hit the running target, only in the split seconds their energy bolts needed to travel, the “running” target had changed into a “falling” one and the shots went harmlessly over Hux’ head. He rolled to the side, found himself in a narrow floor that joined the main one here and scrambled back to his feet.

His heart was racing and since any direction was as good as the other now, he ran deeper into the side floor, muttering: “That blasted survival instinct!”. The idea had been to go out on his own terms, but now that he had escaped the initial volley of blaster fire, the escapee couldn’t bring himself to reveal where he’d gotten to.

On both sides of the floor doors were opening and closing erratically. Their hissing made Hux feel as if he was running through a menagerie, the giant snake creatures exhibit, to be specific.

SMACK!

The thing Hux had inadvertently run into very definitely was not a snake, it was not even alive in the traditional sense, but mobile and astute. Made of metal and plasteel, it was a protocol droid, one of the many units in use on this level for bureaucratic work and assistance in interrogations. Yellow eyes glowing in the darkness partially illuminated the grey droid chassis. They bore into the stranger, and him stumbling back already ticked “individual potentially not cleared to roam free in this section” on the droid’s internal checklist.

“Prisoner on the loose!” the droid concluded, when it additionally sensed the cuffs that were still binding Hux’ wrists together and for good measure it connected to them wirelessly, resulting in a sharp jolt to the prisoner. But of course… Wireless communication between two devices, aka the number one most unreliable tech in the whole galaxy – and he, Armitage Hux, had to find himself at the receiving end of it the one time that it actually worked.

Accompanied by a staunch “Back in there!”, Hux found himself get shoved into the closest cell. The droid seemed to assume that the power failure had unsealed that one’s door. Come to think of it, that wasn’t the worst turn this escape could have taken! Nothing like a sturdy door between Hux and his pursuers, especially with the troopers being none the wiser where he had ended up.

*

The prisoner had barely set a foot into the cell, when he already bumped against a barrier. It turned out to be a grate separating the two square meter space he was in from the actual cell. After the near-collision, Hux’ foot met something soft on the floor. The tiny space was already occupied, but the occupant had missed their opportunity to escape on account of being sound asleep.

Hux grabbed the bars in front of him with both hands to steady himself, then kicked the sleeper awake with his good leg.

“Huh…?”

A male voice, and a vaguely familiar one, too.

Hux quickly put his foot onto the man and said: “There’s not enough space in here for even one of us to take a nap. Get up!”

There was a rustle and movement and all of a sudden the universe had re-arranged itself into Hux getting pinned against the wall by the other man with him being none the wiser how exactly that had happened.

“What are you?” Hux gasped. “A full blown Jedi?”

He cursed himself for having jumped to conclusions too quickly. His assumption had went: It’s in a holding cell = it’s a captured rebel and therefore a temporary ally. But with reflexes and strength like his opponent’s, that one could just as well be a stormtrooper in detention for some minor misconduct.

“Well on my way there”, the other replied and this additional information in combination with the voice finally allowed Hux to identify this person as Finn. So in a way he had been correct on all fronts, the other being a rebel, a former stormtrooper and rumored to be force sensitive.

“Sorry for barging in here like this”, he said, despite being anything but sorry. “The guard droid thought I was you.”

Finn didn’t loosen his grip on the intruder. “You. Always complicating things”, he snarled.

“Says Mister “I can’t tell an arm from a leg”!”

Finn studied his opponent as closely as was possible in the almost complete darkness. The stubble, the bruises and the torn, unwashed clothes confirmed his first impression: That the General was a prisoner same as himself. There was no keycard or code cylinder to take from this one.

“What would happen if I called the guards?” Finn prodded.

“You’d probably get in trouble one way or the other, regardless of having done them a favor.”

“And in what way would you get into trouble?”

“Don’t call the guards, Finn”, Hux replied as composed as possible. “I’m done for, all I still want is to go out on my own terms. In fact, since you are already holding me, would you mind ramming my head against those bars to your left?”

Finn laughed.

“Huuux, your first instinct upon entering was to establish dominance over your cellmate! I get it, officer’s honor and all, but your actions speak a different language. You would resist. And when you’re weak enough not to bite and kick me trying to fulfill your “request”, I’ll be too weak to lift my own head, let alone yours. Face it, you want to live. Everyone does.”

“I…”

“See? Your favorite word! – Alright, General, I’ll slowly release you now. Try not to do anything too stupid.”

Hux kept standing with his back against the cell wall.

“I can’t”, he moaned. “I can’t let them recapture me!”

With a shrug, Finn slid down on his side of the tiny room. They could both sit in here, but not stretch out their legs, let alone curl up to sleep.

After a while Hux joined Finn on the floor, repeating his: “I just can’t!” followed by a hiss when he pulled his legs towards his body. No further sound escaped the man’s mouth, only his fingers clawed into his trousers and he inhaled sharply.

Never in his career as a stormtrooper had Finn expected to sit shoulder to shoulder with his General. And never in his time with the Resistance had he expected to sit shoulder to shoulder with the enemy General! But their incompatible worldviews aside, nobody who had it found in himself to defy the First Order, that had been his family up to this point, could NOT feel empathy with a fellow being that was in pain or distress. Even if that one was an enemy and responsible for atrocities of almost unfathomable magnitude. And so Finn decided to share something with his fellow captive:

“And you definitely want to live in this best of all timelines!”

“Best…? What are you talking about?” Hux wondered, reflexively turning his head towards the other. “Except… you DID defeat Kylo Ren?”

“Rey killed him on the water moon of Endor”, Finn confirmed, wisely keeping the rest of the story to himself.

Hux relaxed noticeably, almost leaning on Finn in the process.

“What else?” he asked.

“The First Order was defeated, too, utterly crushed, actually. This here is their very last ship, driven to the unknown regions of the galaxy and commanded by a skeleton crew of totally overwhelmed junior officers, because most everyone else has deserted. The ship is so battered that it is barely able to maintain an orbit over a barren world. Meanwhile back home the New Republic prospers. They keep us imprisoned out of spite in the face of all of this!”

“None of this is true. I mean, I give you the hapless junior officers, I had the displeasure of meeting an especially enervating specimen just this morning, and the Steadfast is somewhat less than fully operational, but the rest? At the very least Pryde is still alive. The Resistance, although in a better spot than it was before I started feeding you intel, is far from winning this war!”

“But I just told you”, Finn replied, winking.

“Can you prove it? Well?”

“Can you disprove my words?”

“Ey?”

“See”, Finn eventually relented, “In the absence of contact with the outside world, my truth is as valid as yours. If I was you, I’d choose my version of reality.”

Hux upgraded from his “Ey?” to a “What?”, still none the wiser.

“My head used to be full of your propaganda”, Finn explained. “Now it is filled with my own propaganda. It’s a mental construct, to stay sane in here. It works as often as it doesn’t.”

“Oh. Interesting. And that isn’t just a Jedi-thing you’re doing there?”

“Maybe it is, I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“What’s Dameron’s place in your reality?” Hux asked.

There was a drawn out silence before Finn answered: “Not included. I can’t lie to myself that well to picture him well, when I know for a fact that he isn’t.” Finn leaned forward and put his chin on his knees. In a muffled voice he added: “What a fine boyfriend I am, unable to daydream my partner happy…”

Suddenly Finn felt an arm slide across his neck and the next moment a hand was squeezing his right shoulder encouragingly.

“Don’t beat yourself up for that”, Hux said. “You’re the only one who remained loyal to me. My… knight?” The arm got retracted and Hux made a disparaging sound. “No, that method’s not working for me. I never… I mean, I always…”

I perfected trackerless hyperspace tracking after it was in development since pretty much the days of the Old Republic, with nobody else seeing how easily everything fit together. I built a better Death Star. The formations I invented reliably score the First Order fleets victories, as does the tactical network software I programmed. There’s a reason I was the youngest officer to make General, yet the elders deem me unfit for the position because they heard me misspeak like ONCE on the command bridge. By now they should have noticed that everyone who displeases me vanishes from the command chain, but, no, they’re too stupid to learn their lesson, yet have the nerves to call ME weak. I cannot lie to myself. I know my worth. The First Order is MY empire in all but the title!

And yet, despite knowing all of this by heart, there was that other voice, and it said…

HISSSSSSSS.

Wait, what? Oh, right. That was the door, not some inner voice. Finn with his metaphysical crap has already confused me to this degree, Hux thought.

The door opened and in the dim light of the restored floor lamps now stood the protocol droid Hux already knew, accompanied by Chief Intelligence Officer Tishra Kandia.

“I’m well aware you’re a people person, prisoner”, she addressed Finn, “but I’ll have you know that getting yourself a roommate still goes against the idea of solitary confinement.”

She then looked at Hux, what caused the droid to start chattering. Kandia waved her hand about at the droids’ longwinded apologies and explanation regarding the wrongly sorted prisoner, but all that did was to cause the droid to start over from a different angle.

“Shut the fuck up!” Hux shouted.

“How rude!”

“What do you expect from rebel-scum”, the former General muttered, both annoyed and intensely proud of himself. Even now nothing on this ship was working without him!

“Maybe you could tell the story to Ma’m Kandia in your own words to…”

“Shut the Kriff up!” Kandia barked at the droid only slightly less impolitely than the prisoner.

“Well, that’s new”, Hux snarked. “Those recent days you could not listen long enough to me gush about how I played you all for fools for the better part of a year.”

“And still have trouble believing any of that happened”, Kandia replied in a subdued voice. “You always were that model of a proper officer…” She stopped, considered and went on: “…provided we didn’t want you to engage with actual rebels, that is. What in a war against the rebel rabble is hard to avoid.”

“Can we stop…” Hux labored to get up, using the bars in his back to support him. “…with the trash talk and you shoot me? During a failed escape attempt?”

Kandia grabbed the prisoner by his upper arm and pulled him out of the cell, only to toss him into the arms of a waiting stormtrooper duo. In the brief moment his ear passed her mouth, she whispered: “Would’ve.” That didn’t exactly inspire confidence in the prisoner. Kandia admitting that she’d mercy killed her former superior, if all the First Order had wanted was to execute him, indicated that exactly that wasn’t the plan anymore. The plan had changed, there was still a use the First Order wanted to put the mole to, and that use most likely was connected to his accidental cellmate in some way.

After the first trooper had firmly secured Hux, the other entered the cell, handcuffed Finn and grabbed him equally tightly. They got marched off together, deeper into the cell block, towards an uncertain fate.

*

“We got upgraded to emperor class”, Finn joked, when the duo looked around their new cell.

Two bunkbeds were built into each of the opposing walls, with just enough space in between that a third, freestanding one, could have fitted seamlessly. Each of the bunks featured its own lamp and two narrow shelves to store personal possessions. At the right bed’s foot end a locker stood and opposite that one a door led to a separate refresher that granted the user privacy from their cellmates, albeit not from the ubiquitous surveillance sensors. Growing up, at times Finn had lived in dorms like this, maybe with an added table and two chairs, when he had been in a penal squad for this or that reason. His joke hadn’t been that far off the mark – these weren’t standard prisoner accommodations.

“They want to see what we’ll do, so they need to give us space to do something in”, Hux ventured a guess. “There may be “toys”, too… objects to interact with.”

Finn nodded.

“Can we agree to not let happen whatever it is that they expect to happen?”

“I…”

The door opened again and two more captives got tossed into the room, causing Hux to stagger deeper into the cell. He grabbed a rung in the ladder of the right bunk bed to steady himself, refusing to sit down as long Finn wasn’t doing so, too.

Meanwhile Finn had caught one of the newcomers, a human male shorter than himself, a little weaker, too, but equally enduring and with even better trained reflexes than the former stormtrooper. At the moment none of those qualities were showing, the man was disoriented and moving sluggishly. He could stand on his own only if he concentrated on keeping the balance.

“Poe!” Finn exclaimed, only to furrow his brows when the other didn’t immediately react to getting talked to. Poe stood there a little lost on his bare feet and only wearing a set of underwear. He was shivering, overtly from being cold, but on second glance his eyes were not fully focused, so something else had to be adversely affecting him.

With her back to the door, scanning the room with her eyes, stood Rose Tico. Her clothes were in disarray, her right cheek swollen and a blueish-black ring circled her right eye.

When Finn and Rose made no attempt to do anything useful, but only stared at each other, processing emotions of various kinds, Hux sighed, moved right between them and vanished into the refresher unit. He returned with a yellow mug in his hand, that he pressed at Poe Dameron’s lips.

“Wish it was rat poison”, he hissed.

Poe’s lips were thoroughly glued together from lack of water. Hux titled the mug a little and what didn’t spill finally served to moisten the skin enough for Poe’s lips to part. At this point the man’s senses seemed to have registered “Water!” and he instinctively took a gulp. Only then did he notice who exactly was holding the mug. Poe was standing in Finn’s arms, with Rose’s hand holding his, but the third person in the equation was most definitely nobody whom he’d wanted this close to himself.

“I’m hallucinating”, the prisoner concluded.

Finn stepped around his partner and looked him into the eyes.

“No, you are not!”

“And now I’m hallucinating my Finn…” Poe said in a sad voice.

When Finn reached out to caress Poe’s face, the other sidestepped and was now standing on shaky legs between the bunkbeds. His stance betrayed that he was ready to flee even farther, to the point of merging with the wall at the end of the cell, in order to not have to touch the “hallucination”. As long as Poe had no proof that the illusion was insubstantial, he could still make believe it was real!

“Birds of a feather, you two”, Hux grumbled. He stepped up to the shivering pilot, grabbed him and barked: “If I was a hallucination, I’d be controlled by whatever you’re using instead of a brain and replied something Dameron-like! But I didn’t, so what am I?”

“Rat… posion…”

“Argh, it’s of no use. He got drugged and needs to sleep it off.”

Hux pushed Poe, with the intent to park him in the closest bunk, but Finn took over again. With Rose’s help, he lifted the pilot into the upper bed, closer to an imaginary “sky”, claiming that Poe would want to “fly”.

“But of course…” Hux said with a sneer, while securing the lower bunk on the opposite cell wall. On principle he’d very much preferred the upper bunk, too, but his leg wasn’t favor of that.

Finn placed his shoes next to the bunk below Poe’s, then climbed up to sit next to his partner. Now that he could relax, Poe’s shivering hadn’t ceased, but in fact intensified, as one by one his muscles realized that he was protected by his friends now.

“Looks like we’ll be sharing, then”, Hux said to Rose, “to make this wonderful class reunion complete.”

“Good, uh, undefined point of the day- and night cycle”, Rose replied.

Eventually everyone had settled in. Finn had volunteered to take the first watch, Rose was lying on her left side, fervently trying to sleep, resulting in her growing less sleepy by the minute, and Hux was relaxing his leg, determined not to sleep in this room full of enemies. Was it even night already? Hux couldn’t tell. His aching body told him that he’d been awake for “too long”, but seeing that he was spending his days getting roughed up by Commander Kandia’s interrogation team, even (or especially) when he cooperated, the actual time that had passed might have been a lot shorter than the perceived one. Ironically it was Poe, who slowly drifted into restful sleep. It had been days since the man had slept in an actual bed, maybe also days since he’d slept naturally. He smiled in his half-awake state, snuggled up under the coarse bedsheet that slowly warmed him up. Not that Poe Dameron had much reason to smile, with the war still going on, him and his friends being captured and living for another day meaning another chance to break them for their enemies. But sometimes all one wanted was to drool into a pillow, with a (comparatively) soft mattress below oneself. Both had gotten provided in the most accidental way imaginable.

Full story: link

[top10statuesthatcriedblood]

putting all my concert thoughts in a poast before i forget. here we go mucho texto warning. also setlist talk is gonna be out of order probably

the drive to the venue took longer than anticipated, traffic was so backed because dfw is just Like That. dont come here. and ft worth especially oh my GODDDD but we made it in time for the maine. i missed the first opener again its fine

ive only listened to the maine casually over the years and i like them but THEY WERE SUPER FUN LIVE????? the energy was so high for such a short set and they honestly sound better live than album recordings. i may have to stan

also Bassist Hot whats his number

theyre all kinda hot really. from my distance at least. sorry

robby energy

the sound at dickies arena in general is just soooo much fucking better than an outdoor stadium the guitars and drums were up to 11, ppl werent wrong abt the sound quality in this venue. sux its in ft worth though ONE MASSIVE DOWNSIDE kfmjsdkglafk

amazing sound at the cost of my hearing because. i forgot to buy ear plugs again it hurt just a lil bit. especially the pyro. at least its only been 2 times so far I WILL LEARN MY LESSON NEXT TIME LOL

i accidently sat in the wrong section but the my actual tickets i bought were closer so WE TAKE THOSE!!! not close enough to see skin pores but still very much enough

jimmy sounded great!! didnt know most of the songs despite doing a bit of listening but i got bleed american and the middle at the end which both ruled so. worth it

kinda wanted the maine back but ITS OKAY NO SHADE

patrick message on the projector. which is funny for anyone at home but FOR ME THERE I WAS LIKE [DREAD] [DREAD] [DREAD] FUCK DFW WEATHER

imagining patrick doing vocal warmups in the car by himself did lighten my mood just a tad. i had no proof but a feeling he did that

and then the pete images. only got a glimpse thru shitty venue connection but that made me laugh

and my battery was already low so the waiting and stalling was painful 😭

i was directly diagonal from the guy in the east wing lower bowl that started a monkey-see-monkey-do light show thru the whole stadium while waiting for fob and i just love the goodness of people at concerts its everything to me PEOPLE ARE GOOD

the woman next to him also danced like a beautiful drunk swan the entire show and idk if i wanted to be her or be her friend

also if u saw plain ol me clear glasses brunette hair tourdust shirt and bracelets HI YES WAS I

i didnt feel like going around to trade bracelets again as nervous anticipation set in but i DID pick out an american psycho bracelet from a person who came up to me so i completely unknowingly manifested there holy fuck. im cherishing it forever thank u to that person

WRECKING BALL. LMAO

also i sang along to Thats What You Get by Paramore playing in overspeakers because thats my fucking band but I HEARD MORE PPL IN THE CROWD SING ALONG TO OLD PANIC WHICH PERSONALLY OFFENDED ME JUST SAYIN

wdstf singalong was everything. again the energy at concerts <3333 my people

LIKE 30-40 MIN LATER FOB IS ON FINALLY. i did not cry this time to lftos i was just glad they were there the worry Dissolved

joe and andy were so visible from my seats i stared at them both nearly the entire show. patrick brain out the window they are SO MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE IN PERSON IM TELLIN YALL 4K HIGH DEFINITION THRU MY EYEBALLS GOT MY BRAIN IN A. TORNADO!

photos and videos were not fantastic my phone is nawt the latest model so nothing worth posting here sadly. but for myself? everythang

IM KICKING MYSELF because i so clearly had andy in view for HIS DRUMSTICK THING DURING SUGAR but MY FINGER DIDNT PRESS RECORD BUTTON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKETH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

please. please if ur close to andy, video that for me i need it for no reason other than its my favorite lil thing that nobody at tourdust shows. thank u so mch

NO CHICAGO FOR ME THIS TIME getting doa twice is kinda crazy ngl

patrick apology (no tears) for grand theft autumn was funny

andy and pete had cute smiley interactions around disloyal order during the set. or before that idk. i know a bubble hit andy's drum kit (or he swatted it away himself?) and they were smiling at that 😭😭😭 theyre litrly besties do u understand.........

of course p squared still did their signature scissoring techniques thank u for that old men

NO HEAVEN IOWA. THEY SKIPPED HEAVEN IOWAA FOR DOLDRUMS. i still went hard of course but CONSIDERING HOW GR8 THE SOUND WAS I WAS ONLY SLIGHTLY BUMMED

you dont even wanna know how estatic i was for hum hallelujah. i had to get myself proof of it for it to be real. tahnk u. ill never recover ever. peace and love in my brain

i dont rememebr certain songs where joe had this very specific swagger but he so very much did i saw him. with my own eyes. (in the voice of the luke skywalker tweet) dont worry joe i'll appreciate ur cuntiness

headfirst slide. in this venue.

oh my god bro

both p squared riffs <3 especially the one near the end where pete saw someone watching shit on their phone nd said it was basketball JEYDEUGHEKDLK patrick chiming in w something about dont make fun of his step-dad. gold.

saying smfs reminded him of texas #TEXANPRIDE #COWBOYS

PATRICK DURING RIFF SAYNG HIS GLASSES ARENT CURRENT PRESCRIPTION. THE REVEAL THAT HE STILL CANT SEE. WE LOST

medley was like. a relief to me because i expected it it was like a cool towel in the midst for what was about to come. cant blame the guy for getting literally zero practice beforehand fmdsjfdslg

the 8 ball.

i cried BIG PHAT BABY TEARS

i love them more than words can say. i didnt know i needed it but i did

im still emotional thinking abt it

saturday aftercare cured all (even though i was WOOPED from going so hard EVERY SONG. couldnt scream anymore my voice is still shot. i refuse to NOT go as hard as i do)

i think that is all the notable stuff i remember i wish i couldve written down stuff on the ride home BUT i will add more if i think of it. overall its hard to say which show i liked better they both meant the absolute world to me!!! FALL OUT BOY FOREVER

[liviavanrouge]

14 Bloom Birthday Vignette

14: Today is the interview, I've been practicing for today, so I don't embarrass myself!

14: A interviewer chosen by the magic pendulum, I hope it's someone who matches my energy or near it

14: I got up early for this, I really don't wanna fail

???: Well, with me around you won't fail, so raise your head and straighten that back!

14: O-Oh!!

Vil: Be grateful for I am your presenter today!

14: *Tackle hugs Vil down* VIL- SENPAI!!!!

Vil: Wh-What have I told you about this!? Be lucky my boyfriend wasn't here to body slam you down, you know how he is!

Vil: Thank Sevens, I convinced Goldy to not come with me, great sevens

14: *Smiles in response*

Vil: .....one hug won't hurt... *Hugs 14, smiling*

14: *Beams*

Vil: Ahem! Now we begin! Are you good or bad at flying?

14: Aha...I would say I'm right in the middle, I can be relatively good at times but then be bad at times, I guess that's the downside of me being not so connected with my magic, been like that since I was a kid

14: Some flying assignments are hard, while others can be relatively fine, Sam had to rescue me once when I sent myself flying into this tree...

Vil: Are you alright!?

14: Yeah, but I had to take an extra hour in that class and Professor Vargas would add more if I failed

14: He mainly kept me to flying along a white line, I still keep failing that one

Vil: How so?

14: Don't you ever get that feeling that you're doing it wrong so you end up over thinking and causing a disaster

14: That....that right there caused me to fail that lesson a lot

Vil: You need to get that under control...

14: I know and I try but I end up failing at it each time, so Epel has been aiding me...

Vil: Hm, looks like I will have to reward Epel then...

14: *Laughs* Please do! I've been getting a but better thanks to him, I've been able to catch up with the rest of the class!

Vil: That's good, Epel definitely needs a proper reward

~~~

Part 2

Vil: What is your best class?

14: Cursed Runes and Item is my best class, both willingly and unwillingly

Vil: Huh?

14: I've been learning about cursed things since I was young, I wanted to figure out why I was forced to wear the gloves that Sam would provide me with

14: Turns out my body attracted cursed things and would stick to me for hours until finally falling off without the curse on them

14: But the curse would end up inside me and it took everything the mages my parents called had to remove it from my body after I got affected

14: The gloves were getting too itchy for me, so everyone opted to having me wear a bracelet that keeps the objects from coming near me, if they do they get bounced backwards fifty feet away

Vil: *Stares at him with wide eyes* HUH!?

14: Speaking of curses, there was this cursed fork that hit me and I ended up with a fever for half a year

Vil: HUH!!??!

14: Whew! That was a terrible time, I tell you, my brother and parents were worried sick about me, not even magic would've helped at that moment

14: That's why I got into cursed things and became an expert at it and identifying what's cursed and what's not

14: It's been quite useful nowadays, I saved Ruggie from a cursed book he wanted to sell, the date that would've befallen him had I not stopped him

Vil: What was the cursed book, what would it have done?

14: It would've turned him into an ugly blob fish...

Vil: HAHAAAAA! OH! *clears his throat* Excuse me, I went out of character for a minute there....

14: It's fine, hehehe...

~~~

Part 3

Vil: What would you like to do in the upcoming year?

Vil: I am also quite curious about this...

14: I'd like to expand my flower garden, since I only grow hibiscus flowers right now, I've been reading about other flowers and I would like to learn how they grow

14: I ordered some roses, lilacs, poppies and peonies that Jade recommended for me

Vil: I never knew you liked flowers

14: I got into them because of Livia's flower vines, that one day where she grew flower vines over the school to decorate it as per the Headmasters request

14: I never seen flowers so pretty before, so when I found some hibiscus flowers on a hiking trip I decided to start growing them

14: I asked for help of course, I didn't want to get it wrong, Riddle gave me some tips and I've been growing them ever since!

Vil: *Smiles* You might have to grow me some flowers then

14: I can teach you how to grow some, I wouldn't mind

Vil: Hah, I'm not the type to get my hands dirty with gardening-

14: It'll be fun, you gotta get your hands dirty sometimes you know, not everyone can stay clean all their life

14: Please Vil, just once, I won't ask again afterwards!

Vil: *Sighs* ....very well, we shall garden together ONCE, after that I refuse to dirty my hands again

14: Hehe, we'll see about that, Vil-Senpai!

Vil: What a cheeky underclassman you are, 14

14: Of course, my brother is Sam and I'm in Octavinelle, not to me tion I hang out with the Fish Mafia!

Vil: *Chuckles* I guess so...

14: *Laughs, beaming*

~~~

Vil: That concludes our interview! Your answers were quite amusing, some even outrageously silly but smart

14: Hehe, thanks, Vil! I had a great time!

Vil: Use this to fly today

14: Oh, what an amazing broom, the zinnia flowers are beautiful, along with the baby breath's flowers, and the dahlia flowers

Vil: Crowley had to interview Sam, and what he said about you really match the meaning behind each of these flowers

14: Hm, I wonder what he said

Vil: Don't stand around here, take to the skies, this instant

14: *Smiles* I'm so happy, I came to NRC, all the people I met and everything I've learned make my memories of past loneliness gradually fade away and seem like they never happen....I hope I can continue being this happy with everyone!!

----

14: *Grins wide, pointing towards the moon as his eyes lit up, a black and white eagle flying at his side as he used his other hand to keep his hat on,

[bergeronprocess]

My 2023 In Anime

Ah, 2023. What a year! According to my Anime Planet custom 2023 list, I watched 20 anime this year. A couple of them I haven’t finished yet and a couple of them are DNF. As the year dwindles down to its final days, I’m gonna take a look back at what anime I watched in 2023. Beware of spoilery discussion for all of the tagged shows.

Sorted by season and then in the order they appear on my list.

Winter 2023

Nijiyon Animation: Nijigasaki is my favorite flavor of Love Live (it’s the first one I watched, I like the characters a lot, the songs are great and there’s literally a girl also named Emma in the cast) and so I will never say no to more Niji. Cute fun bite-sized episodes. There was even a touching farewell to Tomori Kusunoki as Setsuna. I just saw that they’re going to do a second season, so I’m looking forward to that.

The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague: Holy crap, this show was a pretty little nothingburger. Literally NOTHING happened aside from the characters becoming friends. The two leads didn’t even kiss?!?! I wanted to see how they might handle that - the idea of people who are imbued with yokai powers is a neat one, but oof. This was unsatisfying.

UniteUp!: My dark horse favorite of the season, a bishonen idol show that dealt with some of the more realistic/uglier aspects of fame and the idol industry specifically. There were some production delays (that’s the story of 2023 across the industry, isn't it?) but I actually really enjoyed how they handled those - they showed these neat behind the scenes episodes with the voice actors. I love behind the scenes. The characters have a lot of heart, the songs were really good and the dancing looked excellent too. I think this is getting a second season too? If so, I’m thrilled to spend more time in this world.

Handyman Saitou in Another World: I actually watched an isekai! Holy shit! But it wasn’t one of those lazy paint-by-numbers isekai shows that are just a dime a dozen. I like how it showed Saitou using his skills (undervalued in our world) to get stuff done in the high fantasy world he found himself in after a Truck-kun situation. There WAS a bit too much fanservice for my liking - I’m a sports fan, so I’m used to that “oof, as a cis woman I am NOT the target demo here” feeling lol, but still - and I feel like they did a few too many “he’s dead! But not really because magic!” fake-outs. But hey! Ai Fairouz was in the cast here! I like her!

Buddy Daddies: OHHH did I enjoy this one. Great music, I love Kazuki and Rei, you could tell there was someone on the staff who is a gearhead based on how they portrayed cars, Miri is great, lol at how they overcome bureaucracy crime-style…Tumblr loved this one and with good reason. Also I definitely ship those two guys lol. The one downside is I feel like they kinda fridged Kazuki’s wife and Miri’s mom. They could’ve done a bit better by their adult female characters. I do still get the opening song stuck in my head now and again, though.

Soaring Sky/Hirogaru Sky Precure: Folks, this is the year I got Precurepilled. I tried Delicious Party last year but bounced off of it after episode 1 - it just didn’t hit for me somehow - but this one GOT ME! This is still ongoing and will be through the end of January (50 episodes y’all!), so I can’t speak with finality about it, but so far so good. The first boy Cure! The first adult Cure! She drives a Hummer for some reason lol! I think Mashiro is my favorite! It’s been so much fun to theorize about the story (I was SO wrong about Yoyo being Sora’s hero from her childhood, ha…) and watch it unfold. I do think they waited a bit too long to bring in the Kaiserin storyline, but hey, we’ll get a few more episodes to wrap everything up, right? As for Wonderful Precure, I don’t know lol the concept isn’t getting me hyped up, but I will at least watch episode 1 and go from there.

Spring 2023

Kira Kira Precure A La Mode: Still the only Precure season I’ve completed to date lol. This one was so much fun. I love sweets and baking, so I had great fun here, sometimes even shouting at the TV to try to help Ichika with her doomed bakes when she inevitably forgot baking powder or whatever. When I realized that Ciel had literally been in the opening credits since episode 1, that blew my mind lol. I DO wish they would’ve just let Julio become the first boy Cure, but hey, he walked so Cure Wing could fly. Himari is baby and Akira/Yukari is Haruka/Michiru for the 2010s. Aoi’s band made some good music. The very last scene was very sweet. Both ending songs are total earworms. Good stuff.

Skip and Loafer: This show is SO FREAKING CUTE. I just love these goofballs. I love how Nao-chan is able to just be herself and is not subjected to transphobia all the time. Mitsumi is adorable and also extremely relatable. I liked this one so much that I’ve started to read the manga, picking up where the anime left off. (2023 is also the year that Atlanta got a Kinokuniya location, which is very exciting for me, though maybe less so for my credit card lmao.) Season 2 pls? I would love to spend more time here.

Gundam The Witch from Mercury Season 2: Damn, this show needed at least one more season. Preferably two more. I was fully expecting 50 episodes like what Gundam Wing got lol. It needed more time to breathe, to show us more about the other characters (Lilique my beloved!) and to flesh out the big story. But alas, this is not a perfect world, and what we got was still pretty damn good, and also Sulemio married. That’s my interpretation. That's everyone's interpretation, isn't it?

Star Twinkle Precure: I’m still working on this one, but I FREAKING LOVE IT. The day-glo 80s aesthetic is right up my damn alley, I adore the transformation sequences, we get dark-skinned biracial representation with Cure Soleil, I enjoy reading the horoscopes at the end of each episode (my Japanese is at about a preschool level, so it’s great that everything has furigana lol), there’s space stuff AAAAAND this season has my very favorite Precure song ever. One of the only two so far to be in a minor key, folks, it’s PaPePiPu Romantic time.

I now have a new goal: sing this bad boy at karaoke someday. Pew pew! Pew pew pew!

Summer 2023

Yohane the Parhelion: I enjoyed Love Live Sunshine a lot, but phew, this didn’t do it for me. I feel like it would’ve been better as a 3 or 4 episode OVA (ONA these days I guess), but just didn’t have enough story for a full 13 episode season. My mom is fond of saying “just okay”...like, it wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t awful either. Yohane the Parhelion is just okay. Please just watch Sunshine instead if you want to be introduced to these characters. Sunshine is so much better.

Zom 100: I watched the first episode of this and then didn’t bother with the rest. DNF. Sorry to hear about the production troubles - that’s especially ironic for this show.

Fall 2023

MF Ghost: The other DNF for me. Watched 3 episodes, heard they were about to introduce a character who is obsessed with 17-year-old girls, noped the hell outta there. Wasn’t impressed with the 3 episodes either. I love Initial D - we named our cat Hachi because she’s black and white just like the Hachiroku - but MF Ghost just had no heart or soul. The Toyota 86 was lovingly rendered but I hated the ugly black motion lines they added when it was moving. The race they showed was dreadfully boring, the worldbuilding felt extremely unrealistic and oooh did I HATE that “outfit” they put our underage race queen in, if you can even call that an outfit.

Overtake: Of the two car racing shows this season, Overtake absolutely wins. It looks great, it introduces F4 racing to the audience very well (there’s some show, there’s some tell, a good blend) and the characters have more heart in their pinky fingernails than the entire cast of MF Ghost combined. There’s a very real and affecting subplot about PTSD, realistic discussion of just how much racing costs for an amateur team and plenty of men being unafraid to feel their feelings and cry it out. Overtake is definitely on the top of the podium. It hasn’t gotten anywhere near the love it deserves - ANN didn’t do weekly reviews of it and Anime Feminist was hyperfocused on the lack of female characters (valid! But not a dealbreaker to me!) - so I hope that people discover it later.

Shy: Thank goodness this is getting a season 2 because we spent literally a quarter of the season focused on the Pepesha and her mother subplot. That could’ve been tightened up a bit - ANN’s review mentions how Amarariruku’s villain speeches tend to be very circular, which is exactly how I felt seeing Lenya explain herself for what felt like the 50th time over - and I was genuinely looking at the episode count like “uhh??!?” before the season 2 news came out. So other than that part being a bit too drawn out, though, this is a very interesting show with a cool concept (Teru experiences Personal Growth! We are so proud of her!) and I’m interested in seeing where it goes from here. Will we meet the USA’s hero next season? I kinda want to see who that might be.

My Daughter Left the Nest and Returned an S-Rank Adventurer: Ai Fairouz is in the cast of this one too, so maybe she’s just what needs to be present for me to watch an isekai/high fantasy show? I did enjoy this one, even though the action scenes were a little bit lacking, perhaps above the skill level of the animators. They did do lovely watercolor-like scenery shots, though. The characters are charming (Belgrieve, total DILF, also giving us disability representation) and the opening song is a bop. They did leave the door open for a season 2 - for example, the question of Ange’s parentage was never answered, although it is VERY heavily implied that she is also a demon. I mean, the little demon kid Belgrieve takes in at the end literally looks exactly like her, for crying out loud.

Spy x Family Season 2: Haven’t finished this one yet - I want to watch it with my husband because he also likes it and we’ve just had a lot of stuff going on! We have watched 4 episodes, which means we’ve watched a bunch of one-off side stories basically lol. He even remarked at some point that the episodes felt weird. I was like “Well, because they’re only side stories!” From what I have read, it sounds like things are about to pick up plot-wise, so we gotta just make some time to catch up soon lol. 

Power of Hope/Kibou no Chikara Otona Precure 23: I have not seen ANY of the Precure series that have characters appearing here, so I came in fresh. This was enjoyable! I was originally bummed that we didn’t get to see them transform as adults, but the age reversion to transform was done for big story reasons and made perfect sense in that context. The episode that showed how the town was devastated by firebombing in World War II was deeply affecting - war is hell, no wonder Bell was changed by it - and it was great to see Cure Black and Cure White turn up. It reminded me of all the companions coming together at the end of Doctor Who season 4. Total fan catnip, I love it. I have not seen Mahotsukai Precure either, so I’ll be going into their sequel fresh too. (Is that what was being teased at the very very end of episode 12? Yeah probably lol)

16bit Sensation Another Layer: My winner for best show of this season. As you may have gathered from my mention of Doctor Who just now, I like time travel stories, so “Listen, Konoha Akisato has come unstuck in time” appealed to me right away. This show also genuinely taught me things about computer game development. I have a deepened respect for PC-98 game art (I follow such accounts on here now lol), which would surely make Mamoru smile. Plus, I like how it has a core message of “You can be a woman who works on erotic video games and that is not weird or perverted. Follow your dreams!” Toya does, after all - I would have loved to see her team up with Konoha and it sucks that she was being manipulated by the evil company. The show did take a turn for the Matrix-y in the fourth quarter, and I do feel episode 13 was a bit rushed (Konoha opens Comic Party and then is just immediately back in 2023? She and Mamoru explain how they told everyone about being time travelers instead of us getting to see that reaction?), but dammit, I teared up at the very end anyway. What a show!

Magic User’s Club OVA: I remember renting videotapes of this from Blockbuster way back in the day, but I didn’t remember much about the show itself, so I decided to watch it again after seeing this AnimeBackWhen video about it. It’s so fun and charming! And Ikuko Itou designed the characters and Junichi Satou is the director - a bit of a Sailor Moon reunion lol. (Fun fact I learned just now is Chiaki J. Konaka did the screenplay. This is very very different from his work on Serial Experiments Lain.) I’m not done with it yet. The opening song is a big ole bop!

2024 goals:

Finish Star Twinkle Precure

Watch Gunbuster (another "I rented it from Blockbuster during the Clinton administration" story - I bought Discotek's new Blu-Ray of it, just haven't cracked it open yet lol)

Continue to enjoy seasonal anime!

[ninja-muse]

September is my birthday month! So naturally I had a proper book haul. I’m very excited to now own the pretty editions of Nettle & Bone and The Goblin Emperor, and also a new bookcase (not pictured). The downside of having a birthday month is that people want to do things with you to celebrate it, which cut into my reading time. Storygraph is now cheerfully reporting that I’m behind, and I think I’m behind enough on my pages goal that I’m not going to manage to catch up. I’m trying to be stoic about it because 50,000 pages in a year is, in fact, quite a lot. Probably too much for anyone sane.

It also doesn’t help that even though I hit a normal number of books read, a good number of them failed to totally engage me or otherwise proved slower than expected. I had a DNF this month as well, my second this year. Oh, and I’m also behind on my reading because I’ve started writing again, and I’m trying to milk the inspiration for all it’s got before I inevitably conclude I’m everything wrong with the publishing industry. Or the internet concludes that for me. Again.

I took two books off my TBR shelves this month, though one is kind of cheating because I got it for my birthday.

And as always, in order of how glad I am to have read them:

The River Ki - Sawako Ariyoshi with Mildred Tahara (Translator)    
 The lives of three generations of Japanese women during the first half of the 20th century.
 - Japanese cast, Japanese author, #ownvoices

The Diary of Dukesang Wong - Dukesang Wong with Wanda Joy Hoe (Translator)
 and David McIlwraith (Editor) The only known first-hand account by a Chinese railway worker.
 - Chinese author, Chinese-Canadian translator, #ownvoices, 🇨🇦
 - warning for descriptions of racism

Rogues - Patrick Radden Keefe 
Long-form true crime journalism.
 - warning: mass shooting, plane bombing

Half-Blood Blues - Esi Edugyan
 A jazz band in Nazi Europe. A guilty conscience. And the biggest unanswered questions: just who are Hieronymous Falk and Sid Griffiths? - 
largely Black cast, Jewish secondary character, Black author, #ownvoices, 🇨🇦
 - warning: Nazis

A Taste of Gold and Iron - Alexandra Rowland
 When Prince Kadou is publicly humiliated, he takes on an investigation into counterfeiters. Unfortunately, he has attacks of nerves and his new, by-the-book bodyguard isn’t helping them—until he is.
 - 🏳️‍🌈 protagonists, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters, protagonist with anxiety disorder, 🏳️‍🌈 author

Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow - Jerome K. Jerome Amusing essays on various topics, proving that nothing much has changed in 140 years. - warning: misogyny

What Moves the Dead - T. Kingfisher 
Lt. Easton arrives at a crumbling manor after news that kan friend is dying, but there’s more wrong on the estate than that. Starting with the mushrooms. - 🏳️‍🌈 protagonist
 - warning: body horror

A Mirror Mended - Alix E. Harrow 
Zinnia is burned out from saving Sleeping Beauties. Now the Wicked Queen has come calling.
 - 🏳️‍🌈 protagonist, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters, protagonist with chronic/terminal illness

Notorious Sorcerer - Davinia Evans 
Siyon is a street alchemist with ambition, but when he commits an obvious act of magic, he’s thrust into unwanted limelight. And of course, the city’s in turmoil. - 🏳️‍🌈 protagonist, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character

The Book Haters' Book Club - Gretchen Anthony 
When Irma announces she’s selling her bookstore for pennies, her daughters and other interested parties band together to save it at any cost. 
- 🏳️‍🌈 ensemble characters

The Half Life of Valery K - Natasha Pulley
 Valery has been reassigned from the gulag to a top secret nuclear city. Something is seriously wrong with the local environment, but everyone insists that It Is Fine Actually. 
- 🏳️‍🌈 protagonist, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character

Epically Earnest - Molly Horan
 Janie likes Gwen, who’s way out of her league. Algie likes Cecil, who Janie thinks is far too good for him. Janie has a chance to find her birth family. Prom approaches. A retelling of The Importance of Being Earnest.
 - 🏳️‍🌈 cast

DNF

The Oleander Sword - Tasha Suri
 Priya is trying to hold Ahiranya together nearly by herself. Malini is trying to hold an army together long enough to take down her despotic brother. Then a new threat looms.
 - 🏳️‍🌈 protagonists
, South Asian cast, Indian-American author, #ownvoices - warning: death by burning, misogyny

Currently reading:

Echoes - Ellen Datlow (editor) Ghost stories by modern SFF writers.

The Curse of the Marquis de Sade - Joel Warner The history of 120 Days of Sodom, and a French financial scandal. Out February 2023.

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle Victorian detective stories - major disabled character
 - warning: colonialism, racism


Stats


Monthly total: 12
 Yearly total: 116 + 1
 Queer books: 6.5
 Authors of colour: 3 
Books by women: 8 
Canadian authors: 2
 Off the TBR shelves: 2 
DNFs: 1

January February March April May June July August

[crazy56u]

I am really getting annoyed with the fact that personal issues are making me play catch up with the show every other week, especially since apparently shit went down at the end of this one.

Let’s dance.

Last time on Quantum Leap: Ben remembered he was engaged to Addison. This week? Back to the Future III!

“You just got here, and now you wanna leave?! that’s right bitch, we’re getting into the relationship drama at the fucking top!”

This is turning into Reverse High Noon. “How dare you wanna fucking leave and not stay and fight!”

I still say that set is from Westworld.

“Look, Addison, I had coffee with Ian yesterday, you wanna jog Ben’s memory, go nuts.”

Magic just gave Addison permission to double down on the relationship BS.

Yep. 1879 in the fifth episode. It took Sam five seasons to hit the 1800s, that’s how you know Ben is wild as fuck.

“Joe, stop antagonizing Mad Dog Tannen and go get drunk.”

First blood.

“(Western accent) Resistance is futile, y’all!”

“Salvation’s salvation” Subtle.

“Look, no one here wants any further violence. You already killed a guy, that’s all you need.”

“Look, I wanna help, but I don’t feel like killing.”

“Ah man, all this potential death shit sucks- oh shit, my fiancé!”

Unless I’m wrong, excluding “Atlantis”, all of Ben’s leaps this far have take place in the western half of the States.

How is Ben being a bigger Western nerd than Sam was?

Wow, this really is Back to the Future III; Ben just got served the shit water!

Moral of the story: Fuck hydration, get tanked instead.

Ben, it’s 1876. She would only be “too young” to be in a bar if she was less than five years old.

Ben is getting a crash course in how the Gold Rush actually sucked in the long term.

Ben, believe it or not, Salvation is the most racially diverse town in the old West, this place is like Disneyland.

I am willing to bet Salvation invented woman’s suffrage before the rest of the country.

And now Ben is strapped.

“Violence only begets more violence,” said no one in the fucking Old West.

“In San Francisco, we throw money at the problem “ “We don’t have any!” “Not yet! I’m gonna go rob a train-”

Ian is literally swinging for the fences right now. “Look, fuck the Old West. John Wayne can kiss my ass.”

“Okay, look, here’s the deal, a Congressperson is here right now, so we need to pretend we’re not working, otherwise we’re fucked, so shut up about the Old West.”

One of the downsides of every episode so far taking place over, like, a week for the Project: Congress finds shit out fast, and they will breathe down your fucking neck.

Translation: “Look, Magic, I know Ben fucking leaped, tell me why I shouldn’t shut this place down yesterday.”

And there’s the Pentagon, ruining shit once again!

“You wanna see Ben? Look, just because my name is Magic doesn’t mean I’m a fucking magician.”

“He’s currently off-site.” “Until when?” “…well, I mean, we just got the full season order, but a renewal is currently in the air…”

“Look, something is fucking going on, I wanna talk to everyone right now. …I mean, one at a time, I got all day.”

Ernie Hudson is too old for this shit.

Died of liver failure? Probably drank too much of the water.

I choose to believe they literally ran a train off the tracks through the town, just to brag about it.

No, not like that, get your fucking mind out of the gutter.

“Look, there’s a reward out there for him and his gang.” Huh, so money is the solution!

[Munch break]

The deputies just quit rather than face the bad guy. Maybe this is less “Reverse High Noon” and more just flat out “High Noon”.

“I heard you were talkin’ about throwing money at problems, so I decided ‘You know what, that’s smart!’”

“Look, I ain’t leaving.” “Okay, cool, have a gun as a present.”

“Look, Ben, you need to take a man’s life. It’s been five episodes, it’s time.”

“This can’t be right… I mean, shooting cans, what is this, Wild Gunman?!”

“Look, Ziggy says-” “Ziggy hasn’t said shit all series so far, we’re five episodes in, Addison!”

Moral of the story: While killing may suck, it’s justified if the guy you kill sucks.

Ben, keep preaching non-violence in the Old Fucking West, see where that gets ya.

“Look, Ben, I was in Afghanistan, shut up, nut up, and shoot that can.”

“Have I ever fired a gun?” Translation: “Am I cool?”

“I am in the body of an old man, past his prime as a gunslinger!” “So was Sam at one point, and he actually outdrew a man in a duel! Pick a new excuse!”

“Look, Ben, this is reminding me way too much of when I taught you how to box, and excluding blacking out, I almost got a stomach ulcer that day, so please stop being pedantic?”

Did Ben really just fucking say “Look, you want to see me shoot a can, make it worth my wild”?

“Boy, you know what all this gun talk has put me in the mood for? Lore.”

The best way to start dating: Getting trashed on Chinese food.

Ben, you would suck at Duck Hunt.

I love how Henry immediately proves how much cooler he is than Ben.

“Friendly check-in” my ass, this is basically the same as being dragged into the principal’s office.

I love how Addison is going the Pokémon route and only saying catchphrases. “Yes, ma’am. Yes, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“So, when’s the last time you saw your fiancé?” There is a version of this episode where Addison promptly walks around the table to punch this person in the face.

“Is there anything going on here that I should know about?” “Do the words ‘Get lost’ mean anything to you?”

How much time passed for Ben between scenes, cause he and Henry did not move.

Salvation: The Best Place on Earth.

“I better give this one last shot.” Probably literally, I think you burnt through most of your ammo.

Ben, you fucking suck at shooting, dear God.

Okay, “kidding” be damned, actually hearing him say “Ancient Chinese secret” made me cringe.

How many languages does Ben know?

Okay, it is a dick fucking move trying to burn the set down mid-filming, dude.

Or blowing it up, what the fuck?

“You’re a coward!” She’s not wrong!

Oh great, now Jen is under the microscope.

And of course Jen used to hack bitcoin.

If I didn’t know better, I’d assume Janis leapt into this person to try and shit the Project down.

And we catch back up to Ben, getting crunk.

“Why would I do this to us?” I dunno, Janis has something to do with it…

“Look, it’s not my body, so fuck it, let’s get turnt.”

“Look, I’m sad and drunk, I’m fucking off.”

I love how that one guy saw all of that, and is choosing to not comment on the fact Ben was yelling at ghosts.

Valentina is going out guns blazing, quite literally. Serves you right for getting sad and drunk.

Okay, points for Mad Dog Tannen. “She tried to kill me, but I didn’t kill her. I’m fair, damnit.”

“I know what we need to do, here. Two words. High. Noon.”

“Have your guns back, see ya.”

Good news: Ben is going to shoot someone. Bad news: Ben can’t shoot for shit.

Plot twist: Ben is gonna round up all the NPCs to gang up on Mad Dog.

“Look, we are the only salvation for Salvation, we get them alive, we get $10,000. We need to get inventive here.”

I choose to believe Ian was spewing techno bullshit and was just making up things.

Wow, they are actually fucking acknowledging the existence of DDOSes.

“It’s like when a hacker floods the toilet. All that data spills out everywhere, and you can’t flush again until all that data is put back.”

“You wouldn’t be spewing techno bullshit right now to distract me, would you?” “Look, I was in Sandman, would I lie?”

Oh shit, she did math, they are fucked.

The nuclear option: “Look, I just got leaked some juicy info, leave or it goes on Twitter.”

“How far would you be willing to go to save Quantum Leap?” NBC is fucking playing Chicken at this point.

And now Ben is introducing the town to the Kevin McCallister Tips and Tricks Guide.

Ben is now the one playing Chicken.

“Let us take you.” Phrasing.

The Johnny Cash maneuver!

“THROW THE POPPERS, MEN!”

The random old man approves.

Now to poison them!

Welcome to the shark cage, bitch boy.

“…okay, I can admit when I’m fucked. Well played.”

And to think, no one died. There were burns, dragging, and smokebombs, but no one died. That’s the important thing.

“Look, I know Ben leaped, tell me why I shouldn’t kick this info up the chain?” “I think your dead brother would not approve of you being a dick right now, ma’am.” “What the fuck?” “NUCLEAR OPTION, BITCH!”

“Look, blackmail is a dirty word, but if you shut the Project down, we go to Twitter.”

“I can promise you Ben will probably save your brother, please just be cool?”

“…okay, I can admit when I’ve been had. See ya.”

I will fucking laugh if Ben manages to leap into her/her brother by pure happenstance before the season is out.

Party time!

“Look, sooner or later, that railroad will fuck us over.” “Yeah, but there’s a copper deposit near by, so…”

Telephone? That won’t catch on…

Ben, it is only through the grace of God that no one is noticing you talking to ghosts out loud in this crowded saloon.

Okay, never mind, that one guy is back.

…

…

…

…alrighty…

So…

Um…

…

…

…

…I think we now know why Ben was so insistent on leaping early…

[Next time on Quantum Leap: “Wow, wasn’t that wacky, there’s another leaper, wild, so anyway, you know the pilot was originally about the 1989 earthquake, let’s do that now, huh?”]

Final thoughts: They really fucking did that in the last 30 seconds, huh…