#rather than deviating from the in-game space

[omnificent-orion]

one more warm summer one last

[bueckets]

The Hit List | Part 1

Pairing: fuckgirl!Paige x Mechi Student!reader

Masterlist (TBA) | Part 2

Genre: romance (eventually), slow burn, enemies to lovers, kinda funny?, smut (eventually), cat n mouse

Description: When an overworked engineering student's late-night CAD project gets interrupted by a very drunk, very lost basketball star stumbling into the wrong dorm room, she learns that some defensive plays work better in love than on the court.

What starts as a case of mistaken identity turns into an unexpected game of cat and mouse when UConn's golden girl, Paige Bueckers, can't seem to take a hint– or maybe just doesn't want to. Armed with nothing but sarcasm, an overprotective stuffed bear named Mr. Gummy, and a borrowed team jacket that definitely isn't helping the situation, our engineering hero finds herself drawing up plays to defend her heart against college basketball's most persistent point guard.

They say offense wins games, but defense wins championships. When you're trying not to fall for a girl who treats the court like her kingdom and your personal space like a suggestion, maybe it's time to admit some battles aren't meant to be won.

WC: 11.2k

Authors Notes: i had first written this for jkxreader on my other blog (whoretan) however plot deviates heavily after the first encounter, um, kinda fuck girly paige, but kind of just a love drunk idiot too

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Guest

Your eyes burned as you stared at the CAD model rotating on your screen, the internal combustion engine you'd been working on for the past—what was it now, eight hours?—still refusing to cooperate.

The familiar workspace of SOLIDWORKS had become both your best friend and worst enemy over the past three years at UConn, but tonight it felt particularly vindictive. You'd been trying to get the timing belt assembly to properly mate with the crankshaft for what felt like an eternity, and your deadline was creeping closer by the minute.

"Did you hear?" Riven's voice cut through your concentration as she burst through the door, her designer backpack hitting her bed with enough force to make your desk lamp wobble.

"Hear what?" You didn't bother turning around, instead zooming in on the problematic area of your model. The project was due in six hours, and you were nowhere near having it stress-tested. Sleep was starting to feel like a distant memory from another life.

Riven paused in her tracks—you could practically hear her jaw dropping in that dramatic way she'd perfected since freshman year. "Paige Bueckers was talking about how Q’s jump shot is worse than a middle schooler's."

The absurdity of the statement finally forced you to tear your eyes away from the screen. Your neck cracked in protest as you turned to face your roommate, who stood there with her perfectly manicured hands on her hips, waiting for your reaction. Three years of living together had taught you that Riven wouldn't let you focus until you properly acknowledged whatever piece of gossip she'd brought home.

“That’s literally ridiculous.”

Riven tilted her head, eyes rolling toward the ceiling in that characteristic way of hers. Six seconds of contemplation later (you’d learned to count), she shrugged and pulled out her iPhone, probably to text the women's basketball group chat about the latest drama.

Your roommate, much like all the other Huskies superfans, didn't care whose reputation a particular player tarnished. She'd much rather get on their good side, damaged reputations or not. It was a dance you'd watched play out countless times since freshman year, when you'd first been assigned as roommates.

Back then, you'd thought the random housing assignment would be a disaster—the sports-obsessed sorority girl and the robotics team president seemed like a recipe for mutual hatred. But somehow, your differences had created a strange balance. She dragged you out of your engineering cave occasionally, and you reminded her that there was more to college than chasing after basketball stars.

"Caitlin bought Kate those new custom Nikes." Riven thrust her phone in your face, revealing a photo of Clark's teammate happily posing with pristine white sneakers. The caption read, 'Thanks for the gift bb, @CaitlinClark22'.

You squinted at the screen, trying not to think about how those shoes probably cost more than your entire semester's textbooks. The basketball elite weren't just known for their court skills—their NIL deals were equally legendary. Every starter came from successful programs, the kind that built training facilities and had courts named after their alumni.

"What a lucky bitch," Riven sighed, flopping onto her bed.

Apparently, your roommate wasn't the only one who didn't care for her reputation. Last week, she'd blown up your phone with about thirty—maybe sixty—texts about how her sorority sister had seen Caitlin making out with someone else at The Tavern. Looks like those custom Nikes must've been an apology.

You looked up at your starstruck roommate with pursed lips. Riven caught your expression and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, she's being messy. So what? Those shoes are like two thousand dollars with the custom work, that's my fucking meal plan right there."

"Remind me again how you're a neurology student?"

Riven clutched her chest with an open hand, gasping dramatically. "Wow. I see how it is." She threw herself backward onto her bed with the theatrical flair of a soap opera star.

You couldn't help but grin, even as your eyes darted back to your computer screen. The smile quickly died on your lips.

Oh fuck.

The CAD model still sat there, mocking you with its incomplete state. You'd managed to complete maybe forty percent of the assembly, and the entire thing needed to be fully rigged and stress-analyzed by nine AM.

This was the cost of your procrastination, another dinner sacrificed to the gods of engineering deadlines. At least you had a good excuse this time: you'd spent the weekend helping the robotics team prepare for their upcoming competition. Being vice president meant putting in the extra hours, even if it meant cramming your actual coursework into impossible timeframes.

"I have to finish this tonight. Do not bother me with any more basketball drama." You spun your chair back to face your screen, not bothering to check if Riven was sticking her tongue out at you. You could picture it anyway, she had the maturity of a twelve-year-old sometimes.

Five and a half hours later, you finally pressed the glorious 'Submit' button on Blackboard. You turned off your PC with such violence that the desktop nearly toppled over.

"Never doing that again," you groaned, slumping into your chair and letting your head fall back against the cushion. Your neck felt like it had been replaced with concrete somewhere around hour six.

"You literally say that every time," Riven quipped from her side of the room.

If you had any energy left, you would've gotten up and punched her in the ass. Luckily for her, your eyes had started doing that thing where they drooped shut every few seconds without your permission. You'd decided about thirty minutes ago that your chair was an acceptable substitute for a bed. The walk to your actual mattress seemed about as feasible as climbing Mount Everest right now.

"How do I look? Good enough for the party?"

Fucking hell. 

You summoned what little remained of your core strength and groaned as you forced your chair to swivel around. The sight that greeted you was, admittedly, impressive, even through your exhaustion-blurred vision.

Riven wore a black dress that hit just above her knees, with strategic cutouts along her ribs. The laced-up black heels she'd spent twenty minutes struggling with (while whining very fucking loudly) completed the look perfectly. She'd devoted the last hour of your project completion marathon to preparing for KK’s birthday celebration.

��Which party?” you croaked. “The one where everyone’s fighting or the one where they��re pretending nothing happened?”

Her nose wrinkled in that way it did when she was trying not to laugh. "You're so annoying."

Yeeeaaah, definitely the messy one.

You watched as Riven stumbled toward her drawer, rummaging through three compartments before pulling out a neon orange tiny bag. And when you say tiny, you mean tiny, it couldn't have been more than two inches across.

"Can you even fit anything in there?"

A wicked smile spread across her face as she opened the toy purse, pulling out her student ID and a tube of lipstick. Of-fucking-course. “Minimalist chic, baby. Besides, I don’t need much. Just the essentials. I'm serious. Tonight's gonna be fucking legendary."

“Legendary,” you deadpanned, swiveling your chair back to your desk. “Try not to end up on Barstool again.”

You swore she lunged forward, ready to attack you with her miniature weapon. But her phone rang, which happened to be a far more pressing matter. The assault could wait. Riven pressed the phone to her ear with a smile that would have made the Cheshire Cat proud.

"Are you here? Yeah, I'm ready. You have the Pink Whitney? Okay. Bye."

She turned back to you with that same manic grin. "I'll get you back for that later. Bye!"

And just like that, Riven leaped out of the room, her neon orange bag and its singular tube of lipstick disappearing with her into whatever chaos awaited at the UConn house.

The sudden silence in her wake felt almost oppressive. You sat there for a moment, contemplating your life choices. The clean lines and precise measurements of your engineering models never gave you this much drama. Maybe that's why you preferred spending your nights with SOLIDWORKS instead of at parties—machines were predictable, logical, and they never started drama about anyone's jump shot.

After nearly crawling your way across the room for what felt like thirty minutes (but was probably closer to five), you finally made it to your bed. Or rather, to the base of your bed. The problem now was getting on top of it. UConn, in its infinite wisdom, had given everyone the tallest fucking beds in existence.

Tall enough that all of your belongings fit underneath it so they could make the rooms ten times smaller by doing so. You sat on your ass, glaring at what felt like a sixteen-foot space between you and the mattress. You could, theoretically, just fucking get up and with one last surge of energy jump onto it. But the soft cotton of your fuzzy rug was suddenly hugging your back, tucking you in, cradling you like a loving parent.

Fuck it, the floor isn't even that bad. You've slept on much worse—like that one time freshman year when you passed out in the robotics lab after a forty-eight-hour building session. At least your rug didn't smell like motor oil and desperation.

Your head lay flat on the floor, the hardwood never felt softer. Riven had left hours ago, and you'd managed to successfully knock out on your chair for a bit. That was until you jolted awake, sweating out of every crevice of your body, and made eye contact with your actual bed. You'd said goodbye to the chair and began the voyage to your proper sleeping place. Clearly, that wasn't going as planned.

It was too late now to dwell on what could've been. Tomorrow, you'd start anew. Just like every time she partied, Riven wouldn't be back for two or three days. You'd have a full day to sleep on your actual bed without the mention of UConn and internal combustion engines.

You turned to your side, the fuzz tickling your chin as you nuzzled into it. Sleep was just starting to creep in when—

"Taylor! Tay baby, please open the door!"

The hairs on your arms rose and a fart you hadn't realized you'd been holding in released into the air. Some drunk player had the wrong door.

“Wrong room,” you called, hoping they’d get the hint. With a shaky breath, you nuzzled deeper into the carpet.

Not a second later, a bang erupted through your room. "Tay, please. I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

Your heart thrashed in your chest. Could you not have one night of peace? One night of tranquility to enjoy your own company? One night to enjoy sleeping on the hard floor?

"Taylor, for fuckssake." The asshole nearly knocked the fucking door off the hinges.

First, you're going to knock her the hell out. Then, you'll find out where Taylor lives and knock her out, too. Maybe you could work it into your next robotics project—a robot specifically designed to punch drunk athletes who can't read room numbers.

"Tay, please—"

You jolted upward and ran to the door so fast you probably broke several laws of physics. Swinging the wooden panel open like a madwoman, you yelled, "Listen asshole, I don't know who Taylor is and I don't give a damn. It's late as hell and some of us actually enjoy sleeping!"

Said asshole leaned against the door frame of your room, a Nike-covered foot tapping against the floor as she pressed a finger to your lips. "Shhhhh, baby, I said I'm sorry."

Your throat locked and you nearly laughed at the audacity. Did this fucker really not notice you weren't Taylor? Through your sleep-deprived haze, you managed to register a few details about the intruder: tall, athletic build that made your mouth go dry, honey-blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders, and wearing what looked like exclusive UConn team gear. Great. A drunk basketball star. 

Said basketball star happened to also push herself off the door frame and trudge past you, right into your room as if she'd been there a million times.

Much like you wanted to before your carpet trapped you, the stranger leaped onto your bed, stomach flopping onto the cushion of your mattress. She muttered something you couldn't hear as she grabbed your favorite pillow and brought it close to her chest. She was snuggling your Mr. Gummy.

You were going to go to jail for assaulting a Division I athlete. Yeah. This was the end of your girl boss engineering career. Goodbye feminist STEM icon. Hello convict. All those years of suffering to get into UConn just for you to catch a case over the Greek Goddess, Nike, herself. At least you'd submitted your project first, might as well get credit for that before you went to prison.

"Babe, I don't remember your bed smelling this good." She'd gone into a fetal position, kicking off her—yep, definitely team-exclusive Nikes. Maybe, just maybe, you'd knock her out and then sell her shoes on StockX. The proceeds could cover your legal defense.

You rubbed your forehead with the back of your palm, wiping away the stress sweat that had accumulated. You swung your head out of your door, looking left and right, then repeat. Empty. Fuck. Fuck, and fuck.

You paced back and forth a few times, biting on the edge of your hand. You can't pick this goddess off your bed. One, she's drunk as hell. Two, she's... You gazed back at the stranger, somewhere on her journey to your bed she'd tossed her UConn warmup jacket to your floor. Leaving her in a fitted tank top that left nothing to the imagination.

Who needs that many shoulder muscles? The definition in the arm that hugged Mr. Gummy was sculpted by years of perfect jump shots. Each shift of her body revealed new curves, like a living Nike ad designed specifically to torment sleep-deprived engineering students.

Holy hell. Get a fucking grip.

Okay, so you can't drag the basketball star off your bed.

Plan B it is.

You trudged into your room, taking one last look at the hallway. Should you close the door?

If someone did hypothetically walk past would they think you drugged her? She was slurring her words and hugging your favorite bear while you paced back and forth like you happened to "accidentally" slip something into her Gatorade.

You closed the door.

You needed to call Riven. You could care less that she was at the beginning of her three-day rager, you weren't going to wait till the next morning when Nike would wake up and start accusing you of kidnapping UConn's star point guard.

You slowly walked toward your desk, making sure to avoid the panels on the floor that creaked every time someone stepped on them. Empty. You pushed your chair back to see if it happened to fall earlier. Empty.

The air stilled, and you shook your head. No. No. She was laying on it.

You'd chucked your phone onto your bed after deciding to finally start your project. You had to call Riven. There was no other choice but to tell someone. And given the fact that your contact list included your parents and Riven, she was looking like the most optimal candidate.

As silently as you could, you tip-toed toward your bed and did a quick examination. Near her head? Nope. Mr. Gummy? Nope. Legs? Nope. Hip?

Yeah.

Maybe you would go to jail after all, for assault.

You better get an A on that fucking project.

You took a step forward, awkwardly climbing the edge of your bed to get closer to your phone. Which was nicely tucked right under the curve of her ass, your camera barely peeking out as if it was taunting you.

Shit. How are you going to pull it out?

Your face contorted as you inched closer to the basketball player, thumb and middle finger clutching the edges of your phone and lightly tugging backward. She huffed out a soft groan. Dear god.

It's not budging.

In and out. Breathe.

You tugged again.

Something thudded against the floor.

Your eyes left the phone and gazed to the floor where your Mr. Gummy lay sacrificed to the floor demons. Uh oh.

You turned back to retrieve your bear when your eyes locked with hers. Her very open eyes.

She was smiling.

"Baby I didn't know you were so handsy."

You stared. That's all you could manage to do—stare at the face of the beautiful drunk idiot in front of you. And holy shit was she beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made you question if UConn's recruitment standards included a mandatory photogenic quota for certain players.

The idiot had a playful smile playing across her stupidly perfect face. Taylor must be a lucky girl. Not lucky enough, though, considering her girlfriend was currently in a stranger's bed. How drunk did someone have to be to not recognize they had the wrong person?

"C'mere," she grabbed your arm, pulling you to your side as if you weighed nothing. A strong arm locked around your waist and began rubbing circles on your stomach. The motion sent shivers down your spine that you desperately tried to ignore.

"Missed you, n' I'm sorry baby," she slurred into your ear. Her voice was much softer now, a warm whisper that made your whole body tingle.

Taylor, I'm so sorry.

The words shot straight between your legs. You hadn't been touched in almost two years. Sue me. A gorgeous basketball star was rubbing your lower stomach while she told you—her girlfriend—she missed her. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke. You spend three years avoiding athlete drama, and now the universe deposits one directly into your bed?

You needed your phone. Pronto.

"Listen— I—" You raised a clammy hand to lift her, attempting to wrap your fingers around her wrist to lift it. Your engineering brain was trying to calculate the exact force required to remove her arm without waking her up further, but all mathematical ability seemed to have short-circuited.

"You're so squirmy tonight," she intertwined your fingers.

What the fuck are you supposed to do? You inched your body further away in an attempt to shrug her off. A move that, in retrospect, was about as well-thought-out as trying to integrate calculus while drunk.

Nike thought otherwise. She pulled you closer until her front was pressed firmly against your back, her breath warm against your neck. You could feel the defined muscles of her stomach through her tank top, her body radiating heat that made your head spin.

FUCK.

You'll wake up with a gay panic and a warrant.

"I'm really tired," you squirmed against the death grip around your waist. For someone supposedly blackout drunk, she had the grip strength of someone who'd spent their life fighting through double teams.

Just pretend it's not there. You do not feel anything. Just toned arms and her—

"G'to bed baby. I'll make it up— make it up to you n' the morning." Nike lifted herself to place one last sleepy kiss against your cheek.

Two minutes later, Nike’s light snores vibrated against the back of your neck, warm breath caressing your skin. You wouldn't be able to move her off you. You had no clue where your phone was. Her hip could very well have fully consumed it at this point, creating some kind of phone-eating black hole that physics hadn't yet discovered.

With a sigh, you closed your eyes, pretended there wasn't a Division I basketball star sleeping in your bed, and prayed that you wouldn't end up in some viral TikTok before noon. At least if you did become internet famous, you'd already submitted that goddamn CAD project.

Your last thought before drifting off was that Mr. Gummy better not tell anyone about this.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL!"

Are you being robbed? Is someone being murdered? You jolted upwards to see Riven staring at you with an open mouth, her perfectly applied makeup from last night now resembling a raccoon's Halloween costume.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of sleep. What's her problem?

She pointed to your bed and you turned your body to the side. Oh.

Oh.

Nike was rapidly blinking, those unfairly long eyelashes fluttering as she was most likely realizing you were not Taylor. The morning light streaming through your window illuminated her features in a way that should be illegal before coffee.

You laughed nervously, hands flailing in front of you like a malfunctioning windmill. "It's not what it looks like."

"Why is Paige Bueckers in your bed?"

Paige Bueckers? The same UConn Basketball Star Paige Bueckers? No fucking way.

This Paige had cuddled Mr. Gummy half of the night before opting to trap you in the bed with her. There was no chance that this was the same Paige Bueckers that had NIL deals with Nike and Gatorade and had laid waste to half the NCAA. 

Paige—definitely Paige—groaned beside you, hands rubbing her face. "Taylor's going to kill me," she mumbled underneath her breath.

"No, we— we didn't. We." You pointed between yourself and Paige, your brain short-circuiting like a poorly wired circuit board.

"Listen, sweetie, I'm sure it was the time of your life, but this was a one-time thing." Her voice had that practiced smoothness of someone who'd given this speech before, probably more times than the number of equations in your thermodynamics textbook.

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. Was she serious? Did she think you two—? And she was okay with it? Now, this fits the description perfectly of the cocky superstar Paige Bueckers was known to be. 

Your face burned hotter than an overclocked processor. "We did not have sex. You came in here drunk off your ass screaming about your girlfriend."

By the time the word girlfriend left your mouth, Paige Bueckers had already jumped off your bed with the agility of someone who definitely wasn't as hungover as she should be. She snatched up her UConn warmup jacket from your floor and was halfway down the hallway before you could blink.

What an arrogant little asshole. Your muscles quivered with the urge to strangle her. That is if you ever saw her again. Which, given your luck and UConn’s campus, was probably inevitable.

"How long have you and Paige been seeing each other?" The empty spot beside you filled with Riven's weight. "Is that why you never wanted to come to the games with me?"

"Riven, you have five seconds to get off of my bed before I strangle you."

"You can't avoid this conversation forever!" she called out as you stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door with perhaps more force than necessary.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you tried to process the reality that you'd just spent the night cuddled up with Paige fucking Bueckers. The same player whose name had been carved into the unofficial NCAA hierarchy since before orientation. 

You splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the memory of how her arms had felt around you, how her breath had tickled your neck, how her—

No. Absolutely not. You were not going to join the ranks of college students who'd lost their minds over a basketball star. You had bigger things to worry about. Like whether your CAD project had uploaded properly. Or if you could ever look at Mr. Gummy the same way again.

The next few days passed in a blur of classes, labs, and actively avoiding any location where you might run into Paige. You'd even skipped Tuesday's Engineering Club meeting, sending your vice president a detailed email about needing to catch up on work. It wasn't entirely a lie—you did have work to catch up on, considering you'd spent half your study time calculating alternate routes to class that avoided the usual athlete hangouts.

But by Thursday afternoon, your luck ran out. The library was supposed to be safe—the one place on campus where the basketball players rarely ventured. They had their own private study rooms in the athletic center, after all. Which is why you'd let your guard down, settling into your favorite spot near the engineering section to catch up on your reading.

The peaceful atmosphere was shattered by two girls settling at the table across from you, their whispered conversation carrying clearly in the quiet space.

"So yeah, I like totally made out with Paige in the team room. We almost knocked over Coach's whiteboard, isn't that hilarious?" The prettier of the two said as she placed her MacBook on the wooden table, her voice carrying that forced casualness of someone trying very hard to seem unbothered.

Her friend laughed and took a sip of her Starbucks, a lemonade, probably sugar-free, because of course it was. "So how was it?"

Paige's latest conquest giggled and opened her laptop, trying to seem as uninterested in the conversation as possible. You'd seen this play before, the carefully crafted nonchalance that masked the inevitable disappointment when Paige moved on to her next target. You'd bet your entire scholarship that she'd gone home crying after being ghosted, only to watch Paige pretend she didn't exist the next day.

By this point, you'd given up all pretense of studying chemical processes and electron movement. You'd reread the same paragraph in your textbook sixteen times, your brain more interested in this glimpse into the life of your unexpected bedmate. So what if you're being nosy? Everyone is nosy, and besides, you'd mentally checked out the moment these two sat down.

"She's such a good kisser.” Her friend's mouth dropped open as she placed her half-empty cup onto the table, grabbing her friend's shoulder with one hand. The former nodded, still giggling, "Sarah, I know. She like totally picked me up against the whiteboard."

Are they not aware that people can hear them? That they're in a public space? You glanced around the library, which was half-empty as usual. So maybe you were the only one eavesdropping. Still, you wouldn't go around a library of all places announcing your hookups to the world.

"Hey buttercup," an eerily familiar voice purred in your ear.

You jolted, arms flailing like a malfunctioning robot, inevitably colliding with your pencil case and sending its contents scattering across the floor. Various writing implements rolled under nearby tables like they were making a break for freedom.

You turned to lock eyes with a very, very familiar pair of hazel eyes. Shit.

"Do I know you?" You asked through gritted teeth, trying to ignore how good she looked in her fitted Nike training gear. The amount of exclusive team merchandise on her body probably equaled your entire semester's expenses.

Why would Paige, of all people, be looking for you? If you remembered correctly, she was the one to so diligently inform you that whatever happened was a one-time thing—even though nothing had actually happened.

Paige's eyes crinkled at the corners as her lips tugged upward into that infamous smirk. She leaned forward, resting one hand on the edge of the table, the other on the back of your chair, effectively caging you in. "Don't play dumb."

She was in your bubble. Way too close for comfort, especially since you'd been planning on never having to interact with her again. You groaned and leaned backward, roughly pushing your chair back to give yourself space to lean over and pick up your scattered pens. The move was partly practical and partly designed to annoy her.

"Listen, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be here either." Paige grabbed the chair to your left and pushed it closer to you, dropping into it with that natural athlete's grace. "I've been to your room every day since Sunday and you haven't been there once."

Welp. Why the hell would she be looking for you?

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I was supposed to be waiting in my room for you." You shoved the pens back into your pencil case, gripping the zipper and tugging it closed with perhaps more force than necessary. Looks like the library was no longer a safe haven.

"I lost my phone and you're the only person I remember being with that night," Paige groaned, turning her head.

Does she truly remember that night? Remember that you two didn't actually hook up but instead cuddled? You wanted to convulse at the memory of how safe and warm you'd felt in her arms. How right it had—no. Absolutely not.

"Oh fuck," she mumbled, her expression shifting from annoyed to something closer to panic.

Your eyes followed her gaze to see what had caused this reaction.

Ha. Ha. Ha. In your face, superstar. You couldn't help but grin as you realized the two girls were still very much present. Not only present but staring at you and Paige with expressions that suggested their jaws might actually detach and hit the table.

Paige leaned back in her chair, sending them a small wave and a—was that a wink? Your eyes nearly rolled directly out of their sockets. How much more predictable could she get?

You didn't bother to look back at the two girls to see their reaction. You could guess it anyway—probably swooning in their chairs, maybe even planning their own strategic "accidental" encounters with her. You wouldn't be surprised if they were already planning to show up at her next practice session.

"Anyways," Paige turned back to you, her voice dropping to that low register that definitely didn't do things to your insides, "Have you seen it?"

You shook your head, closing your textbook. Time to get the hell out of here. "No, I haven't. Sorry."

"Are you mad about what I said? Is that why you're holding my precious phone hostage?" Paige's hand shot out to land on top of your textbook, preventing you from shoving it in your bag—or directly at her stupid, perfect face.

"Mad about what exactly?" You grabbed her hand and tried to shove it off the textbook. She didn't budge. Of course she didn't, you'd seen her arms during all those ESPN highlights Riven forced you to watch. "I do not have your phone."

Within seconds, Paige's hand slid off the textbook only to trap your hand against it instead. She moved to the edge of her chair and leaned forward until her lips were at the shell of your ear. Her warm breath hit your skin and you had to resist the urge to squirm. "About what I said in front of your roommate, sweetie."

Your blood ran cold. Does she think you give two shits about what she said in front of Riven? That she made your roommate think you two were secretly hooking up and that she would undoubtedly eventually let it slip to her sorority sisters? Who will tell the rest of campus? No. Not. At. All.

Asshole. She's a no-good little asshole with too many NIL deals and too little accountability.

You turned your head to face her, ignoring the fact that you were now inches apart. If you weren't so pissed you might've paused to appreciate how her eyes looked up close, how they seemed to hold more mischief than all the troublemakers in Cambridge combined. But now wasn't the time for character studies.

You held her gaze, noting the slight knit in her brow that suggested she wasn't as confident as she was pretending to be. "Listen here Bueckers, whether or not you want to keep pretending like we hooked up or not is none of my business. I do not have your fucking phone, and if I did I would've thrown that shit into the Charles River by now."

You yanked your hand away from her grasp and turned back to your desk. You managed to successfully toss your textbook into your bag and rise from your chair without another word from her.

Before making your very dramatic exit, you turned to face her one last time. Might as well make it grand.

Paige hadn't moved an inch since you'd stood up. She stared at you with a raised brow and that infuriating smirk tugging at her lips. She found this amusing? Found humiliating you in the library a good pastime?

You bent over your chair, placing one hand on her shoulder and leaning in until you were at the shell of her ear. She stiffened under your touch, and you felt a small thrill of satisfaction. What the fuck are you doing?

You leaned in further, so close that your chest pressed flat against your arm and her body. So close that your lips actually grazed her ear as you whispered, with all the venom you could muster, “This might work on your little groupies, but, I’m not interested.” 

The last thing you saw as you straightened up and walked away was the shocked expression on her face, like she couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Good. Let her be confused for once.

You managed to make it all the way to the library exit before your hands started shaking. What the hell had gotten into you? You'd just essentially declared war on one of the most prominent athletes at UConn. The star player who could probably get you banned from every sports event without blinking.

But as you pushed through the heavy doors into the crisp fall air, you couldn't bring yourself to regret it. Maybe it was time someone stood up to the mighty Paige Bueckers. Someone who didn't want anything from her except for her to leave them alone.

Your muscles were still tense from your library encounter as you trudged up the stairs to your dorm room. The familiar hallway felt longer than usual, probably because every step reminded you of how spectacularly you'd just antagonized UConn's star player. At least you'd managed to get through your thermodynamics lab without dwelling too much on the way Paige's face had dropped when you'd—

No. Stop fucking thinking about it.

You fumbled with your key card, missing the reader twice before finally getting the door open. The first thing you noticed was an envelope on the floor, likely slipped under your door while you were in class. You bent down to pick it up, ready to toss it in the recycling with all the other campus spam, when Riven's voice cut through the room.

"What's that?"

You jumped, nearly dropping the envelope. Your roommate was sprawled across her bed, still in her scrubs from her hospital rotation. She must have gotten back early.

"Nothing," you muttered, but it was too late. Riven had already launched herself off her bed with surprising agility for someone who'd just finished a twelve-hour shift.

"Oh my god," she squealed, snatching the envelope from your hands before you could protest. "These are courtside tickets to Saturday's game!"

Your stomach dropped. Sure enough, two tickets peeked out of the torn envelope in Riven's hands. But what caught your eye was the note attached.

Found my phone in the team room. Who would’ve thought, right? Peace? - PB

"We're going," Riven declared, already pulling out her phone. "I'm texting the group chat right now. Do you know how impossible these tickets are to get?"

You reached for the tickets, but Riven danced away, holding them above her head like a prized trophy. "We are not going."

"Oh yes we are," she grinned, typing furiously with one hand while keeping the tickets out of your reach with the other. "Everyone's going to be so jealous. How did you even get these?"

"I didn't—" you started, then stopped. How exactly do you explain to your basketball-obsessed roommate that these tickets were some kind of weird peace offering from Paige Bueckers? A peace offering that felt more like a challenge, especially given that note.

"Earth to engineering nerd," Riven waved her hand in front of your face. "You're coming to this game. No excuses. I've already told everyone you're finally embracing the Husky spirit."

You groaned, falling face-first onto your bed. Mr. Gummy stared at you judgmentally from his spot against your pillow. Even he seemed to be saying you should have thrown those tickets away the moment you saw them.

"I have to study," you mumbled into your comforter.

"You always have to study," Riven countered. "But how often do you get courtside tickets from Paige Bueckers?"

Your head shot up. "How did you—"

"PB?" Riven held up the note, smirking. "Please. I may be pre-med, but I'm not stupid. Also, her signature is literally on every piece of UConn merch in the campus store."

Great. Just great. Now you had no choice but to go to the game. If you didn't, Riven would never let you hear the end of it. She'd probably drag you there anyway, study plans be damned.

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling as if it might offer some escape route from this situation. Instead, all you could think about was how you'd have to sit courtside—courtside—and watch Paige play. Watch her make those impossible passes, sink those perfect three-pointers, command the court like she was born to do it.

And she'd know you were there. That was the worst part. This wasn't just a peace offering—it was a power play. She was making sure you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Fine," you sighed, already regretting the word as it left your mouth. "But I'm bringing my thermodynamics textbook."

Riven's squeal of delight was probably heard all the way in the engineering building.

You grabbed Mr. Gummy and hugged him to your chest, wondering how exactly you'd gone from successfully telling Paige Bueckers to fuck off to having courtside seats to watch her play. The bear offered no answers, but you could have sworn he looked a little smug about the whole situation.

The next two days were a special kind of torture. Riven had taken it upon herself to become your personal "game day preparation coordinator," which apparently meant forcing you to sit through endless highlight reels of UConn's recent victories. By Friday afternoon, you could probably recite Paige's stat line from memory—not that you'd ever admit that to anyone.

"You can't wear that," Riven declared as you pulled out your standard comfort outfit: UConn Engineering hoodie and black leggings.

You glanced down at your clothes, then back at your roommate. "Why not?"

"Because we're sitting courtside," she emphasized the word like you were a particularly slow child. "People are going to see us. The cameras might even pan to us during timeouts!"

The mere thought made your stomach churn. "That's exactly why I should wear this. I don't want to draw any attention."

Riven was already shaking her head, diving into her closet with the determination of someone on a mission. "No way. If Paige Bueckers gives you courtside tickets, you dress for the occasion."

"She didn't give them to me," you protested, even though technically she had. "They were just left under our door."

"Right," Riven emerged with an armful of clothes. "Just like she just happened to end up in your bed that night?"

You threw Mr. Gummy at her head. She dodged, laughing as the bear bounced harmlessly off your desk lamp. "We are not talking about that again."

An hour and approximately seventeen outfit changes later, you finally escaped. Your excuse about needing to pick up materials from the engineering lab wasn't entirely a lie—you did have a project due next week. The fact that the engineering building was on the opposite side of campus from the athletic facilities was just a bonus.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice the person exiting the coffee shop until it was too late. Hot liquid splashed across your chest as you collided with what felt like a brick wall of muscle.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" A voice that definitely wasn't Paige's (thank god) exclaimed.

You looked up—and up—into the concerned face of one of UConn's basketball players. The Croatian accent and defensive intensity were legendary enough that even you, perpetually sports-oblivious, recognized her from Riven's endless team discussions.

"It's fine," you managed, trying to ignore how the hot coffee was currently seeping through your shirt. At least it wasn't your engineering hoodie—Riven would've killed you if you'd ruined her carefully planned outfit for tomorrow.

She was already pulling napkins from her pocket, dabbing at your shirt with a look of genuine distress. "Let me buy you a new coffee. And shirt," she added, eyeing the growing stain.

"Really, it's fine." You stepped back, ready to bolt. The last thing you needed was another interaction with a basketball player.

But she wasn't letting you off that easy. She grabbed your wrist with surprising gentleness for someone known for her aggressive defense. “Nah, I insist. I'm Nika, by the way. And I really do feel terrible about this."

Before you could protest further, she was steering you back into the coffee shop. The barista's eyes widened slightly at the sight of Nika—clearly a regular customer—but otherwise maintained their professional composure.

"The usual for me," Nika called out, "and whatever she wants." She turned to you expectantly.

You mumbled your name and order—"Just a black coffee"—trying to shrink into yourself. Several students were openly staring now, probably wondering why Nika Mühl was buying coffee for some random engineering student.

"And a chocolate croissant," Nika added, ignoring your attempt to protest. "Trust me, they're amazing here."

You shifted uncomfortably as she paid, very aware of the wet fabric clinging to your skin. Nika seemed to notice your discomfort because she shrugged off her UConn warmup jacket and held it out to you.

"Here, you can't stay in that wet shirt."

You stared at the jacket like it might bite you. The same style jacket Paige had left on your floor that night. The one that probably cost more than your textbooks.

"I can't—"

"You can and you will," Nika insisted, pushing the jacket into your hands. "There's a bathroom right there. Go change before you catch a cold."

Something in her tone brooked no argument. You found yourself in the bathroom before you could really process what was happening, staring at your reflection as you zipped up the warmup jacket. It was slightly too big, making you look like a kid playing dress-up in their older sibling's clothes.

When you emerged, Nika had already claimed a table in the corner, your drinks and the promised chocolate croissant waiting. She waved you over with a smile that somehow managed to be both friendly and slightly intimidating.

"So," she said as you slid into the seat across from her, "what's your major?"

"Engineering. Mechanical." You picked at the croissant, wondering how quickly you could eat it and escape.

Nika's eyes narrowed slightly, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. "Engineering— wait." Her eyes widened with recognition. "Holy shit, are you that girl?"

You froze mid-bite. "What girl?"

"The one from the library! The one who told Paige—what was it?  ‘That you’re not one of her groupies’?” Nika's grin spread across her face like wildfire. "No wonder she's been such a mess lately."

You choked on your croissant. "What?"

"Oh my god, this is perfect. You're also the one she—" Nika cut herself off, studying your increasingly red face with growing delight. "The one whose room she crashed in after KK’s party?"

Your face burned hotter than the coffee you'd been wearing moments ago. "How did you—"

"Paige tells me everything," Nika leaned back in her chair, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "Well, eventually. Had to drag this one out of her after she spent three days moping around practice like someone had stolen her favorite pair of Jordan’s.”

"I didn't steal anything," you protested automatically. "Not her phone, not her—"

"Oh, she knows that now," Nika waved dismissively. "Found it in the team room yesterday morning. Right where those girls said it would be." She paused, then added with a smirk, "Though I have to say, watching her spiral about it was pretty entertaining. She's not used to people calling her out like that."

The implication hung heavy in the air. You remembered the library girls' story about making out with Paige against the whiteboard. Something must have shown on your face because Nika's expression softened slightly.

"Look, Paige is complicated. She's not used to people seeing through her bullshit." She took a sip of her drink, considering her next words carefully. "Those tickets? That's her way of saying she fucked up."

"By accusing me of stealing her phone?"

"By letting you think she didn't remember that night."

Your heart stuttered in your chest. "What?"

Nika's phone buzzed before she could answer. She glanced at it and grimaced. "Speaking of her royal highness, I'm late for film." She stood, gathering her things with practiced efficiency. "Keep the jacket. Consider it compensation for the coffee attack."

You watched her head toward the door, your mind spinning with questions. Just before she left, she turned back with a knowing smirk.

"See you tomorrow at the game. Front row, right?"

The door chimed as she left, leaving you alone with a half-eaten croissant and more questions than answers. You looked down at the jacket, at the way the UConn logo seemed to mock you with its pristine embroidery.

Somehow, in trying to avoid Paige Bueckers, you'd managed to get tangled up in her world anyway. And tomorrow, you'd have to sit courtside and watch her in her element, all while wearing her best friend's jacket.

Mr. Gummy was definitely going to judge you for this.

"No." You glared at the suspicious red cup Riven was waving in front of your face. "Absolutely not."

"Come on! It's tradition!" She pushed the cup closer, its contents sloshing dangerously near the rim. The sharp smell of cheap vodka mixed with what you assumed was cranberry juice wafted toward you. "You can't go to your first real game sober."

You turned back to your mirror, adjusting Nika's warmup jacket for the hundredth time. The number 10 stared back at you, a constant reminder of yesterday's coffee shop encounter. You'd tried to talk yourself out of wearing it, but everything else felt too casual for courtside seats (according to Riven) or too formal (also according to Riven).

"I'm not pregaming a basketball game at three in the afternoon."

"It's four," Riven corrected, checking her phone. "And yes, you are. The team's already been at Gampel for hours, and we need to leave in thirty minutes if we want good spots for warm-ups. I refuse to let you sit there reading thermodynamics while history happens right in front of us."

You spun around, hands on your hips. "History?"

"Yes! We're playing Notre Dame. It's huge." She thrust the cup into your hands with such force that some of it splashed onto your fingers. "And you're wearing Nika Mühl's personal jacket. Do you know how many people would kill for that?"

"I got it because she spilled coffee on me," you muttered, but took a small sip anyway. Just to shut her up. The drink was surprisingly not terrible— mostly juice with just enough vodka to warm your chest.

"Right. Just like Paige 'accidentally' ended up in your bed." Riven made air quotes with her fingers, nearly spilling her own drink in the process. "And then 'accidentally' gave us courtside tickets."

"Can we not talk about that?" You took another sip, larger this time. The warmth spread through your limbs, making everything feel slightly softer around the edges. Maybe Riven had a point about the drinking thing.

"Oh, we're definitely talking about it." She flopped onto your bed, somehow not spilling a drop. "You're wearing her best friend's jacket to watch her play. This is like, next level psychological warfare."

You choked on your drink. "It's not warfare! I just didn't have anything else to wear."

"Mhmm." Riven's knowing smirk made you want to throw Mr. Gummy at her again. "That's why you spent twenty minutes adjusting it in the mirror."

"I did not—"

"You did! You were all,” She stood up, mimicking your earlier movements with exaggerated precision. "'Oh, should I zip it up all the way? Maybe halfway? What if I push up the sleeves?'"

You drained your cup in one go, grimacing at the burn. "I hate you."

"You love me." She was already mixing another drink, this one slightly stronger than the last. "And you're going to thank me when Paige sees you in that jacket and loses her mind."

"She's not going to lose her mind," you protested, but accepted the fresh drink anyway. "She probably won't even notice."

Riven's laugh echoed off the walls. "Oh honey. Paige notices everything. Why do you think she's the best point guard in the country?"

The walk to Gampel Pavilion was a blur of Riven's excited chatter and your growing anxiety. The drinks had taken the edge off, but your heart still raced as you approached the arena. Students were already lining up outside, many wearing jerseys and carrying signs. Your hand instinctively went to the zipper of Nika's jacket, suddenly very aware of what you were wearing.

"Stop fidgeting," Riven hissed, pulling you toward a separate entrance. "You look hot. Own it."

The security guard barely glanced at your tickets before waving you through. The arena was already humming with energy— staff rushing around with equipment, the band setting up in their section, early arrivals claiming their seats. 

Your courtside seats were exactly where you'd dreaded they'd be: directly behind the UConn bench. Close enough to hear every word, see every expression, feel every moment of tension.

"This is insane," you muttered, sinking into your seat. The court stretched out before you like a stage, the overhead lights making everything feel surreal.

"Look." Riven nudged you, pointing toward the tunnel. "They're coming out for warm-ups."

Your heart jumped into your throat as the team emerged, led by the coaching staff. Players filed onto the court in perfect formation, their practice jerseys a sea of navy and white. You spotted Nika first— impossible to miss with her distinctive playing style, already intense even in warm-ups.

And then there she was.

Paige moved with that effortless grace that made everything look easy, her ponytail swinging as she dribbled two balls simultaneously. She hadn't looked toward the crowd yet, locked in that pre-game focus that elite athletes got.

"Here we go," Riven whispered, her phone already out and recording.

You watched as Paige went through her warm-up routine, each movement precise and practiced. She worked her way around the three-point line, barely seeming to notice as shot after shot swished through the net.

Then she turned to grab a rebound, and her eyes swept across the courtside seats.

You saw the exact moment she registered you. Her hands froze mid-dribble, the ball bouncing away forgotten. Her gaze locked onto the number 10 across your chest, then slowly traveled up to meet your eyes.

The intensity in her stare made your whole body flush hot. You watched as her jaw clenched, that familiar muscle ticking in a way that sent heat straight to your core. Her eyes darkened with something that looked dangerously close to possession.

Nika appeared beside her, saying something that made Paige snap back to attention. But not before you caught the way her gaze lingered on how her best friend's jacket fit your frame.

"Holy shit," Riven breathed, still recording. "I think you broke her."

You slumped lower in your seat, already regretting letting the vodka convince you this was a good idea. "Shut up."

"No way. This is better than any reality show." She zoomed in as Paige missed her next three shots in a row. "Look what you did to her."

"I didn't do anything," you protested weakly, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from Paige's form. The way her practice jersey clung to her shoulders, how her muscles flexed with each movement, the intense focus that had returned to her features – though you swore you caught her glancing in your direction between plays.

This was going to be a very long game.

The game started exactly as you'd expected— with Paige absolutely demolishing Notre Dame's defense while you tried very hard to look anywhere else. It wasn't working.

"Did you see that pass?" Riven screamed in your ear for approximately the eighteenth time. "She didn't even look!"

No, you hadn't seen the pass, because you were very deliberately studying the fascinating architecture of Gampel's ceiling. The vodka buzz had worn off about twenty minutes ago, leaving you hyperaware of every move, every sound, every time Paige jogged past your seats during transitions.

The worst part? Nika kept sending you these knowing looks from the bench, like she was watching her favorite rom-com play out in real time. You were starting to regret not bringing your thermodynamics textbook after all. At least differential equations made sense. They didn't smirk at you or have perfectly defined arm muscles or—

"Time out, Huskies!"

The players jogged toward the bench, and suddenly your personal space was invaded by very tall, very sweaty athletes. You tried to shrink further into your seat, but there was nowhere to go. Especially not when Paige dropped into a crouch right in front of you, ostensibly to grab her water bottle.

"Nice jacket," she said quietly, just loud enough for you to hear over the timeout huddle. Her eyes traveled down your body in a way that made you feel like you were wearing significantly less than a full warmup jacket and jeans.

You opened your mouth to respond with something witty, something that would put her in her place like you had in the library. Instead, what came out was: "Your friend has good taste."

Paige's eyes darkened, that same possessive look from warm-ups returning with intensity. "Does she?"

Before you could dig yourself into an even deeper hole, Coach Auriemma's voice cut through the tension. "Bueckers! Get your ass over here!"

You watched as she jogged back to the huddle, trying to ignore how your skin felt electric where her gaze had lingered. Beside you, Riven was practically vibrating with excitement.

"I got all of that on video," she whispered, waving her phone in your face. "This is going in the group chat."

"If you send that anywhere, I will reprogram your phone to only play the Barney theme song."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

The timeout ended, and the players returned to the court. You noticed Paige was playing with even more intensity now, if that was possible. Her crossovers were sharper, her passes more precise, like she had something to prove.

"Twenty bucks says she's showing off for you," Riven muttered.

"Thirty says you're delusional."

But as you watched Paige sink another impossible three-pointer and turn slightly— just slightly - in your direction before jogging back on defense, you had to admit that maybe, just maybe, Riven had a point.

The game continued in a blur of strategic timeouts (during which Paige found increasingly creative ways to end up near your seat), incredible plays (that you definitely weren't watching just to see the way her muscles moved), and Riven's running commentary (which was getting progressively less about basketball and more about the "tension that could be cut with a knife").

By the fourth quarter, UConn had built a comfortable lead, and you'd developed a concerning familiarity with exactly how Paige's practice jersey clung to her shoulders when she was sweating. This was not information you needed in your life. You had CAD models to build, robots to program, a future in engineering to secure. You did not have time to notice how her hair had started falling out of its ponytail in these impossibly attractive wisps, or how—

"Game! Huskies win!"

The final buzzer snapped you out of your completely professional analysis of athletic biomechanics. The crowd erupted as players from both teams exchanged handshakes and hugs. You stood, ready to make your escape before—

"Leaving so soon?"

You turned to find Paige standing right there, still slightly breathless from the game, her presence filling your entire field of vision. Up close, you could see the flush of exertion on her cheeks, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, the slight curl of her lips that suggested she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

"I have studying to do," you managed, proud that your voice came out steady.

"On a Saturday night?" She stepped closer, and you caught the faint scent of her perfume mixed with sweat. It should not have been as attractive as it was. "After watching me put up thirty points?"

"Thirty-two," you corrected automatically, then immediately wanted to die. Beside you, Riven made a sound that might have been a squeal or a laugh.

Paige's smirk grew wider. "So you were watching."

"It was kind of hard to miss, considering where we're sitting." You gestured to the courtside seats that had started this whole mess.

"About that," she ran a hand through her hair, and those loose strands fell perfectly around her face in a way that had to be practiced. "I was thinking maybe we could—"

"Paige!" Nika's voice cut through whatever she'd been about to say. "Media's waiting!"

You'd never been so grateful for press obligations in your life.

Paige's jaw clenched in frustration, but she recovered quickly. "This isn't over," she said, her voice low enough that only you could hear. Then she was gone, jogging toward the media section with that natural athletic grace that made everything look effortless.

You stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. Your skin still tingled where she'd been standing close enough to touch.

"So," Riven's voice broke through your daze. "Still think she hasn't noticed you?"

"We're going out," Riven declared, already rummaging through your closet without permission. "No arguments."

You looked up from your laptop, where you'd been desperately trying to focus on anything other than replaying the game in your head for the past two hours. "I have to—"

"If you say 'study' I will literally scream." She emerged with your one decent going-out top, the black one with the low back that you'd bought on impulse and worn exactly once. "You just watched UConn destroy Notre Dame from courtside seats while Paige Bueckers eye-fucked you in front of the entire student section. We're celebrating."

"She wasn't—" You cut yourself off, heat creeping up your neck. "And anyway, shouldn't she be celebrating with her girlfriend?"

The words tasted bitter in your mouth. You'd been trying very hard not to think about Taylor, about how Paige had crashed into your room calling out her name, about how clearly serious it must be if she was that desperate to apologize. The fact that she'd spent the entire game looking at you like... that... well, it just proved what everyone said about her, didn't it?

"Oh my god," Riven threw the shirt at your head. "Put this on. We're getting drunk and you're going to tell me everything you're overthinking about right now."

An hour later, you found yourself at The Tavern, nursing your second Moscow Mule while Riven recounted the game to anyone who would listen. The bar was packed with students celebrating the win, most still wearing their UConn gear and riding the high of victory.

"I just don't get it," you said, mostly to your drink. "Why is she suddenly so interested? I'm literally nobody. I spend my Friday nights debugging Python scripts and building robots that occasionally catch fire."

"Maybe that's exactly why," Riven waggled her eyebrows. "You're different. You don't worship the ground she walks on."

You snorted. "Right. Because what Paige Bueckers really wants is someone who told her to fuck off in the library."

The doors to The Tavern burst open, and suddenly the energy in the room shifted. A new wave of celebration swept through as the team arrived, fresh from their post-game duties. Your stomach did a complicated flip as you spotted Paige among them, now changed into fitted black jeans and a white button-down that should be illegal. Her hair was down, falling in waves that your fingers definitely didn't itch to touch.

"Speak of the devil," Riven smirked. "Want to test that theory?"

"Don't you dare—" But Riven was already waving enthusiastically, catching Nika's attention. The Croatian player's face lit up with unholy glee when she spotted you.

"Engineering girl!" Nika bounded over, dragging a very amused-looking Paige with her. "Still wearing my jacket, I see."

You started to unzip it, but she waved you off. "Keep it. It looks better on you anyway." She shot Paige a meaningful look that made your cheeks burn.

"I need another drink," Riven announced suddenly, grabbing Nika's arm. "Come show me where the team keeps their secret stash."

"We don't have a—" Nika caught on quickly, grinning. "Oh, right. That secret stash. This way."

And just like that, you were alone with Paige at the crowded bar, your body humming with awareness of how close she was standing.

"Subtle, aren't they?" Paige smiled, and for once it wasn't that practiced smirk. It was something softer, more genuine. She signaled the bartender, who materialized instantly. Must be nice being a campus celebrity.

"The usual?" The bartender asked Paige, already reaching for a bottle.

"And whatever she's having," Paige nodded toward your nearly empty Moscow Mule.

"I can buy my own drinks," you said quickly, reaching for your wallet.

Paige's lips twitched. "I know you can. But consider it part of my ongoing apology for the whole bed situation."

You raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep your voice steady. "You always apologize to your drunken mistakes with expensive drinks?"

The moment the words left your mouth, you wanted to snatch them back. But instead of looking offended, Paige just studied you with those impossibly intense eyes.

"Only the ones who let me cuddle their stuffed bears."

"Mr. Gummy," you corrected automatically, then immediately wanted to die. Again.

The bartender returned with your drinks, and you grabbed yours perhaps a bit too quickly, needing something to do with your hands. The Moscow Mule was perfect – strong enough to blame your burning cheeks on the alcohol.

"So," Paige said after a moment, looking far too comfortable for someone who'd just been called out on their drunken mistakes. "Engineering, huh?"

You nearly choked on your drink. "Are we really doing small talk right now?"

"Would you prefer I go back to staring at you from across the court?"

"I prefer knowing where I stand," you shot back, the alcohol making you braver than usual. "Because last I checked, you had a girlfriend you were pretty desperate to apologize to."

Something flashed across her face – regret? Embarrassment? "Taylor and I it's complicated."

"Isn't it always?" You couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of your voice. You'd heard enough stories about Paige's "complicated" situations to fill a textbook.

She turned to face you fully, and your breath caught at the unexpected vulnerability in her expression. "Look, I know what people say about me. Some of it's probably true. But Taylor and I have been over for months. That night... I was drunk and stupid because she'd started seeing someone new, and I handled it badly."

"By trying to crawl into her bed?"

"By accidentally crawling into yours." Her voice dropped lower, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. "Which, in retrospect, might have been the universe doing me a favor."

You forced yourself to meet her gaze, ignoring how your heart raced at the way she was looking at you. "Does that line usually work?"

"I don't know," she smiled, and it wasn't her usual cocky smirk. It was something smaller, almost shy. "I've never used it before."

Before you could process that, a commotion erupted near the pool tables. You both turned to see Riven attempting to teach one of the team's shooting guards proper form, which seemed to involve a lot of unnecessary physical contact.

"Ten bucks says they end up making out in the bathroom," Paige said, amusement coloring her tone.

"Twenty says Riven chickens out and spends the next week telling me about all the signals she thinks she missed."

Paige laughed, and the sound did something dangerous to your insides. "You know your roommate well."

"Well enough to know she's going to interrogate me about this conversation later."

"This conversation?" Paige shifted slightly closer, and you caught that intoxicating mix of her perfume and something uniquely her. "What's there to interrogate about?"

You gestured vaguely between you. "This whole... whatever this is. Where you're suddenly interested in small talk about my major and making jokes about the universe doing you favors."

"Maybe I just want to know more about the girl who told me to fuck off in the library." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "While wearing my best friend's jacket, no less."

"That was an accident—"

"Was it?" She was definitely closer now, close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in her eyes. "Because from where I was standing, it looked a lot like a challenge."

Your grip tightened on your drink. "Not everything is about you, Bueckers."

"No," she agreed, her voice soft but intense. "But the way you've been looking at me all night? That might be."

The air between you crackled with tension. You should step back. You should remember all the stories, all the warnings, all the reasons this was a terrible idea. You should—

"There you are!" Nika's voice cut through the moment like a bucket of cold water. "Coach just texted. Team meeting tomorrow morning got moved up."

Paige's jaw clenched in frustration, but she recovered quickly. "What time?"

"Eight AM." Nika's eyes darted between you and Paige, her expression far too knowing. "Sorry to interrupt."

"You weren't," you said quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly judging by Nika's raised eyebrow.

Paige turned back to you, and the intensity in her gaze made your breath catch. "We'll finish this conversation later."

It wasn't a question.

You watched her walk away, trying to ignore how your body still hummed from her proximity. Nika lingered behind, grinning like she'd just won a bet with herself.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "I've never seen her work this hard for someone's attention before."

"I'm not—" you started, but Nika was already following Paige, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a half-empty Moscow Mule.

Riven materialized beside you moments later, her eyes wide. "Okay, what the hell was that?"

"Nothing," you mumbled into your drink. "Just Paige Bueckers being Paige Bueckers."

But as you watched her gather her team to leave, she turned back just for a moment, catching your eye across the bar. The look she gave you was pure heat, a promise of more conversations to come.

You were so beyond utterly fucked.

Continue Reading Part 2

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

You think there some scenes in the anime that might not be too similar to the Manga? Because someone pointed about the ravens in Yuu's world not from the Manga and if you think about it, the housewardens are placed separately in their own group in the anime instead of sitting together in the manga.

I really hope there some unique additions yet stay similar to both the manga and game. Because some of things in the manga felt too rushed (like Ace and Deuce together in that statue scene and being expelled for one incident seems too harsh compare to them breaking the chandelier as a second offense with Deuce throwing Ace to get Grim out of the way. It also showcase what many believe that Deuce is a typical rule-follower and smart in that scene only to learn that he is actually not bright from that chandelier idea) and unnecessary change that felt weak (Riddle being rude to Yuu about their parents and life after Yuu complains about his dictatorship in the dorm vital that brought anger to Deuce and Ace for insulting his friend showing their friendship yet the manga shows Riddle being rude to Ace and Deuce which feels weak).

I do admit the the overblot transformation from Riddle is pretty cool and the backstory is heartbreaking using the Alice in Wonderland themes. Even having more Heartslabyul screen time from the trial room singing and beastmen that aren't from Savanaclaw.

Changes are basically guaranteed in adaptations; it’s a natural result of shifting mediums and having different groups of creatives working on the projects. How the game devs, mangaka, and light novel author choose to depict and frame the same main story content already differs across the retellings. This includes removing some scenes, combining scenes, expanding or clarifying already existing scenes, and/or adding entirely new scenes. The same will likely be true of the anime. Even if it is intended to be an adaptation of the manga, the manga will not perfectly translate to animation and won't be just a shot-for-shot (or panel-by-panel replay).

Details like the ravens being shown in the anime trailer can afforded in animation to help establish the ominous mood. In the manga, the scene of Yuuken heading home and being hit by the dark carriage literally takes only two pages. The anime can’t let this scene pass by too quickly (or it feels rushed going by in the eyes of a viewer), so it makes sense that the scene would be elongated by showing the environment and building tension before the big impact.

The dorm leaders being seated separately rather than together is most likely an anime decision made to showcase multiple characters at once, rather than just the dorm leaders. For example, we can see Rook and Jamil in shots of Vil and Kalim since the anime shows them with their dorm members. It’s also nice being able to see several mob students (with actual eyes!!!!) in the background. This is just good trailer material, which the anime benefits from.

I hope that the anime has content exclusive to it; it would be a neat incentive for long-time fans to spot, and it would allow the anime to make use of its later release time to sprinkle in Easter eggs. For example, the manga shows Riddle in his Apprentice Chef outfit while making his salty apology tart for the end of book 1. This outfit didn't actually feature in book 1 (released March 2020) in-game because the first Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles event didn't release until February 2021. This adds to the content without too drastically deviating from the main story. It'd be great if the anime kept these or even added more of them!

Certain changes made to the manga were probably done in an effort to streamline events, as they can only take up so much space in the monthly magazine in which they are serialized. Ace and Deuce are introduced together in the manga, as opposed to one at a time in the game. They probably cut out that chandelier scene and made them both get into trouble over setting the Queen of Hearts statue on fire in order to save on pages. Now sure what they'll do with this for the anime? I think they'd have the run time for two incidents instead of just the one, but it depends on how many episodes total are dedicated to covering the prologue and how each incident is depicted??? Like, you could very easily have both if you just had a montage, but I'm assuming that most Twst fans would prefer fully animated and more fleshed out scenes (which would eat up more screen time). Really hard to judge at this point since we don't know what the pacing of the anime will be like.

As for who Riddle directs his post-duel insults toward, it's a point of debate among fans and has been for a while. I have a post discussing this in more detail--but essentially, the game version is the only one in which Riddles insults are vague enough to potentially refer to Yuu. In the manga and the light novel, it's made more explicitly clear that Riddle means to insult Ace and Deuce. I assume that the game--which has the blank slate self-insert Yuu for players to project onto--was intentionally open-ended so that players can fantasize about having someone (Ace) stand up for them when someone else is being cruel to them. I feel that the anime will most likely go with Riddle insulting Adeuce, since Yuuken isn't a self-insert and it may not make sense given his backstory doesn't focus on his parents or him being raised a certain way??? Unless the anime of course chooses to expand on those points and make them bigger deals, or they change the nature of Riddle's insults to perhaps be more geared towards implying Yuuken is a bad role model for others. This would hurt Yuuken more, as he is shown to have a kouhai in Kendo Club that he cares a lot for and even sees him in Deuce.

In the end, I think the changes and extra content they implement really depends on how the animation team wants to use the screen time they have. They could get away with more in the early seasons where not much is happening, but maybe not so much in later seasons when the stakes ramp up and they really have to lock in on the main plot points they have to hit.

[bisexualiteaa]

Is it ok to request ? I’m obsessed w/ Gale from BG3. Any loving is wanted / needed. I feel he would be ok w/ a strong partner after Mystra .

Love Within a Moonlit Tower

Gale Dekarios x Fem Reader (fluff and SMUT MDNI!!)

CW: established relationship, slight deviation from the game, slight OOC Gale, nauseatingly sweet fluff, mentions of steamy romance book, mentions of his past relationship with Mystra, established marriage, cursing, body worship, p in v, unprotected seggs, multiple 0rgasms, multiple creampies, slight dumbification, possible grammar/spelling errors.

AN: another one I’ve had in the vaults waiting for the right time to tweak it and drop, I’m so sorry it took me this long to get to Anon! 😭 Thank you for your lovely request, I hope I did it any justice because I too love our resident wizard man. 🥺🫶

The quiet sounds of the birds chirping their mid-day song softly infiltrated through the half opened windows of the library. You could feel the warm rays of the sun flooding in, the gentle breeze washing over you, tousling your hair slightly as your fingers glide amidst the parchment pages of your book. The smell of books new and old filled your nose with its familiar and calming scent, mingling with that of the candles which lit your lovely reading space. You were fully immersed into the story that you were reading, the title of it having stood out to you amongst the others when you found it whilst perusing the bookshelves a few days prior. A slight blush tinted your cheeks as your reading reached a rather raunchy romance scene. The images played out in your mind, built from the well versed description inked upon the pages, every detail recounted as if you were there to experience it yourself. You crossed your legs, clasping your thighs together and biting your lip as you read onwards, finding yourself rather picturing you and Gale in such a scene rather than the two characters within the story. Almost watching as the two characters caught up in each other’s embrace, from well drawn out foreplay to tastefully described sex, you couldn’t help the tingling buzz of arousal that began to drum deep within your core. It left you so bothered, you hadn’t realized the room had begun to grow hot around you, or that a certain wizardly husband of yours had entered the room. You let out a little excited giggle as you read on, your mouth going agape in pleased shock on occasion as you read some of the interesting, and rather thrilling, things the characters were doing with one another. It almost reminded you of the good old days spent adventuring together, finding many a nights a bed beneath the stars and wine not far from reach as your limbs tangled with Gale’s in your best attempts at a romantic rendezvous.

“My, someone certainly seems to be enjoying themselves. I was wondering where you’d run off to. You’re starting to take after me with the way you lock yourself away and read all day” your husband spoke teasingly, making your face turn red as you snapped the book shut in embarrassment and turned your attention to him. “Oh! Hello love! I got so caught up in reading that I hadn’t realized how much time had passed, my apologies” you said sweetly, with such saccharine coated innocence to your tone as you looked up at him, praying your actions wouldn’t raise his suspicions. He smiled at you before his eyes peered down towards the cover of your book then back up to your flustered face. No wonder you reacted the way you did, he interrupted a rather intimate reading. “Ah, I remember reading that one! I had a rather similar reaction upon even my Tryssm entering the room whilst I was nose deep in it. Certainly wouldn’t have been my first guess at what you would pick, but it would be far from me to judge my wife’s tastes in literature” he said, moving closer to you. “Though a part of me deep down has been hoping that you’d stumble across it. Judging by your reactions I’d say you find it quite enjoyable, hmm?” he asked, his suave, deep voice right by your ear, his breath fanning along your neck as he spoke, sending pleasant tingles to your core that fanned the burning embers within you.

You gave a giggle to his response, finding your bottom lip trapped once more between your teeth as you leaned your head to the side, granting him access to your neck as your eyes held a dreamy gaze. “I do. Reminds me a lot of our days adventuring together. The carnage, the battles, the…midnight trysts” you responded, making him chuckle as his lips pressed soft, but tingling kisses to your shoulders, taking note of the dip in your tone that reflected a mood that words had yet to confirm. “I rather enjoyed our late night rendezvous, especially the ones after a heated battle” he replied with a grin. “How we could hardly keep our eyes off of one another while traveling. Then once we’d return to camp, all bloody and adrenaline coursing through our veins, hardly able to keep our hands to ourselves either” you added as his hands smoothed down your shoulders and down the expanse of your arms, the added sensation only fueling the growing fire in your belly. “Perhaps one day we could collaborate on a steamy, action packed story of our own. Recant the epic tales of our concurring of the elder brain! And all the juicy, lascivious bits in between” he excitedly suggested, making you chuckle before turning and placing your hand to his scruffy cheek lovingly, pulling him into a kiss. “Mmm…I rather like that idea. Though I’m afraid if you put it in my hands, I may find myself writing more of our flitting romance and steamy sexual adventures rather than focusing on the biggest victory Baldur’s Gate has seen in centuries” you said into it, a small giggle slipping past you and a smirk growing to your lips as seduction dripped from your honeyed voice. Before you knew it, your once chaste kiss grew a little deeper. “Who would I be to stop you?” He asked, a grin of his own stretching to his lips as a chuckle resonated from his chest, pride swelling his heart that was filled only with the undying love he held for you.

“You know…we’ve yet to break in the library, darling” you stated after your lips parted to allow you both a chance to breathe, your eyes half lidded and holding that mischievous, yet loving gaze of wanting that he loved seeing so much. He only ever wished he could immortalize it in a painting to hang all around the tower, but seeing it every time pointed in his direction because of his doing, was plenty enough to satisfy. He grinned and gave a hum with intrigue at your proposal. “We haven’t yet, have we?” he replied before standing up, grabbing the book from you and placing it aside as he moved in front of you. “That mistake can be easily remedied. IF you’re up for it of course!” he said, making you grin up at him as your hands found his before standing, placing them on your hips to allow him to hold you close. “Gale, my love, has there ever been a time where I haven’t been?” you asked in response, making him grin and chuckle once more. “Certainly none that I can recall, but as gentle as you have been with me, I intend to do the same in return. The last thing I’d wish to do is misinterpret your desires” he responded, making you snake your hands up his chest before resting them on his shoulders. “You haven’t, but I thank you for taking the extra care” you replied sweetly, resting your forehead softly against his as you closed your eyes to bask in the moment together. “Anything for you, my treasure” he spoke in kind, words you knew that held genuine promise behind them rather than empty falsehoods. “Then I say we break in the library, perhaps even relive some old times while doing so” you said, pulling him in for another kiss as his hands traversed your curves. “You mean…like this?” He asked, picking you up and backing you against a bookcase, your legs wrapped around his hips as he held you up. The ever growing smile on your face, paired with the look of pleasant surprise made his dick twitch with excitement from beneath his robes. Gods how he loved you, no goddess could ever make him feel the way you do from just one look alone. “Remind you of the nights we’d spend by the water? Teasing one another as we bathed in the waterfalls and we’d have each other up against the rocks” he recounted as his kisses trailed down your neck, leaving shameless hickies in his wake. “Reminds me a lot of the time where I made you jealous, so you drank a potion of hill giant strength, then proceeded to pick me up and slammed me up against a tree and have your way with me so Wyll, Astarion and Halsin knew I had eyes for only you” you replied with a giggle through your moans as he found every sensitive spot he could, knowing the map of your body like the contents of his favorite book. “Certainly not my smartest use of a potion, but worth it in my eyes to have had you screaming all night” he added as he ground his hips against you, making you tilt your head back against the bookcase as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment in bliss. “Seemed a good use to me. I never was one for being quiet but that night was certainly one I’d never forget” you said teasingly through a fit of giggles before a louder moan escaped you as his hardened cock rubbed against your clothed clit from the confines of his robes. “It’s one of the many things I love about you” he responded. “Fuck, Gale please…” you begged breathlessly.

Your mind was lost on the way that your back had met the hard wood and leather covers of books within the bookshelf you were pressed against. To you, all you felt was the pleasurable stretch of him sheathed inside of you, then the feeling of his tip nestled against your bundle of nerves deep within you, pistoning in and out, nudging the entrance to your cervix. You laid your head back against the bookcase for stability as your eyes shut tight, moans escaping your throat like a symphony to his ears as you cried his name like a prayer. “Fuck, Gale…just like that” you praised as his lips once again littered your skin with soft kisses, as if he was worshipping you. In truth, he was. No goddess bestowed him the kindness you have, no goddess offered him the love and patience you so graciously have given him over the time you’ve spent with him. No one could ever compare to you, no legendary hero, no god above, you were a category of your own. Someone who not only sated, but *saved* him, offering him a life he could have never imagined to become a reality. There was nothing in this world anyone could ever offer him that would even closely rival that of your affections, and with each time he made love to you, he wanted to make that sentiment known to you.

You paid little mind to the dull ache beginning to rise in your back, nor for the thought of how tense or sore you would be later and even into tomorrow for it, what mattered was having your husband in your arms with you, enjoying this tender moment. You two had been going like this for gods only knows how long, your brain muddled from your previous orgasms as his stayed deep within you, only to occasionally drip down to the floor and coat your thighs with his essence. “Just one more. You can give me one more, can’t you love?” He asked, making you nod your head yes in response as words were all but lost on you, your mind effectively reduced to mush as the only words able to leave you were cries and pleas of his name. He loved when he could get you like this, so high from adrenaline, so drunk from pleasure that your usually bustling mind became blank as a sheet of fresh parchment. Before you, he isolated himself from the world, isolated himself away from people where books were his only form of stimulation. While it wasn’t conducive for pleasures of the flesh, he loved the way that he could reduce you to such pleasurable mindlessness. To make you feel good despite his insecurities. Over time he’s only gotten better, memorizing your body inside and out, noting where your most sensitive places lie, what pace and positions you like most. You’ve helped him, not only through physical touch but through everything in between. Where once stood a man who thought the only way to prove his worth to the world was to allow himself to be consumed by the weave, now stood a man with more confidence and happiness than you’d ever seen in him. He only wished you’d see it from his eyes, what all you’ve done for him and how you make him feel, but he would always be more than happy to show you on days where the words just could not explain it.

“I love you” he proclaimed, making you smile as you leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. “I love you too” you answered in kind, pressing your forehead to his as you panted and moaned, finding yourself nearing your end once more. His gaze fell to where you were both connected, watching himself move in and out of you, watching you stretch and the way you coated his dick in your slick. The way you squeezed tightly around him, throwing your head back as you let out a cry of release was what did him in for the final time, feeling your walls milk him of everything he could give you. You both stood there, panting and trying to catch your breath as the pleasurable feeling of your after glow fell upon you, allowing you both to find one another in a soft, loving kiss once more. “The one part I don’t miss from our late night misadventures is certainly the back aches from being had up against any solid thing around” you spoke, your shared laughs filling the otherwise quiet room as you recounted the many times of tree bark practically mauling your skin, or the aches and bruises of rocks once being your only form of stable ground. “A shame, means the stairs are out of the question then” he replied playfully, making you laugh. “At least we can check the library off the list, but I’ll think about the stairs if it fancies you so much, it would be only fair” you said with a giggle. “At least the balcony has a nice love seat” Gale added, making you grin as he helped you down and in getting stable on your feet, helping you clean up before you slid your robe on and he got redressed. “Maybe later we can put it to good use” you proposed with a smirk, kissing his cheek as he grinned. “With an ocean front view like that? Bound to be a romantic night for sure. Perhaps we can have dinner out there as well, have a date night in of sorts with a few glasses of wine and maybe a handful of those decadent desserts you love so much” he added, making you hum with intrigue at the idea, nothing but pure love residing in your gaze as you looked up at him. “Then consider it a date, Mr. Dekarios“ you replied, making him chuckle as he leaned down to kiss you softly once more before releasing you from his hold. “Maybe pull out that dress you’ve been wishing to wear, I’d love to see it on you” he said, making you smile. “Perhaps I will, but first I intend to freshen up. Feel free to join me” you said, leaning up against the doorway as you spoke before leaving to find the bath. He watched as your hips swayed and you sauntered teasingly out of the room, waiting to see if he would trail behind you.

It was little moments like these that he’d never felt more lucky.

[acquired-stardust]

Game Spotlight #15: Policenauts (1996)

Ash finds herself firmly back in the Kojimaverse as she talks about the 1996 Sega Saturn version of Policenauts for Acquired-Stardust's first spotlight of our second year. Disappointing followup or misunderstood masterpiece? And just what is a "sexy adventure" anyway? Come read along as we answer all these questions and more!

Oh, Hideo Kojima. When last we covered his work in written form on the blog it was almost a year ago in the form of a spotlight on 1994's Sega CD port of Snatcher (which you can read by clicking here). If it wasn't already abundantly clear let me state the obvious: I'm a huge fan of the man and his work. I think he's one of gaming's top creative geniuses alongside the likes of Yasumi Matsuno, Fumito Ueda and Yoko Taro. But you could be forgiven for not sharing that feeling when looking at Policenauts on a surface level or by taking common talking points about it at face value.

Policenauts is something of a black sheep in the Kojima portfolio that is often maligned by people for being 'Snatcher but worse'. It has a similar fish out of water setup taking place in a near-future science fiction world. Its lead character, the womanizing Jonathan Ingram, has a similar relationship with a former lover to Snatcher's Gillian Seed and even looks a bit like him, a point that is alluded to in the game itself as part of a meta cameo (one of several callbacks and references to Snatcher). The sexuality and its use for attempts at comedy can be obnoxious and over the top. Some of the themes of Policenauts are also retreads of themes Snatcher deals with, which can certainly dip into feeling like they were less effective this time around. What's more, the game is far more linear and on-rails than Snatcher, presenting far fewer opportunities to tinker with it and discover much in the way of hidden easter eggs or cleverly placed extras. Some of its later developments feel a little bit like 'a hat on a hat' and not entirely necessary. Its featured romance is very forced and odd (though ultimately executed extremely well). These things are all true.

Be that as it may, make no mistake about it: Policenauts is a fantastic experience that is, like its lead character, a fascinating time capsule from a long gone era. Following a similar blueprint to Snatcher's usage of various sci-fi media (most notably Blade Runner), Policenauts is heavily patterned after the Lethal Weapon franchise, and uses the familiarity one may have with its buddy cop formula to get its foot in the door before subverting your expectations as it deviates into its own original work rather quickly.

Opening after an accident in combination policeman-astronaut (the titular Policenauts) Jonathan Ingram's testing of a high tech mech suit during a spacewalk outside of the space colony Beyond Coast that sends him adrift in space for 25 years while cryogenically frozen, Jonathan picks up where he left off by becoming a private investigator of meager success in Earth's Old LA. Finding himself a stranger in a world he is 25 years removed from and stricken with severe cosmophobia from his ordeal. Jonathan's former wife has moved on and remarried. His four fellow policenauts have settled into comfortable lives on space colony Beyond Coast as something of heroes and celebrities. Forced to overcome his cosmophobia when a very personal case sends him once more to Beyond Coast, Jonathan reunites with his best friend and former fellow policenaut Ed Brown (himself still a cop on the aforementioned space colony) to unravel a conspiracy.

It's often said that Jonathan is a very unlikable character, but I find the opposite to be true. There is a solemness, sadness and resilience to him that comes across very well, being inherently at odds with a time that did not stop and life that moved on without him. Much is also made, as previously noted, of his womanizing, and I'd like to address that talking point by first pointing out that much like Snatcher, the vast majority (in fact all but one or two instances) of the sexuality of the game is entirely optional and serves as a bit of meta humor. Jonathan's inability to control himself is a direct result of his literal inability to control himself as he is at the complete mercy of the player, who can decide to pester multiple female characters to with zero benefit. Just as well, Policenauts lands firmly in the genre of something I like to call 'Sexy Adventure', a term borrowed from a song featured in the iconic Lupin III franchise that contains works you might be familiar with such as Space Dandy, City Hunter, Dirty Pair and indeed Lupin III.

Several tropes of the genre include a strong sense of Japanese sensuality and horniness, action sequences involving guns and cars, romance, large scale conspiracies and characters who are masters of their particular fields to an absurd degree. Jonathan's womanizing, something almost exclusively indulged in as optional behavior by the player, is certainly less than Arsene Lupin III for example, but coming to terms with the horniness of this micro-genre is imperative if you hope to enjoy anything it has to offer. Just as well, Policenauts' original release platform before being ported to the Sega Saturn was the PC98 which (along with the earlier PC88) was known for a frankly overwhelming amount of pornographic hentai games. To a large extent this was very much the norm for games on the platform and the time, and while nothing in Policenauts borders on pornographic, the sexuality of it is to be expected.

Policenauts doubles down on a distinguishing feature of Snatcher in its thorough worldbuilding, and is perhaps the key area that the game shines in most especially when compared to Snatcher. Containing an in-game encyclopedia that is always accessible at the touch of a button, it is dauntingly dense and features countless clickable entries detailing many aspects of life, culture and science in the Policenauts universe, often dipping into heavy doses of hard science with surprisingly detailed explanations behind even mundane parts of everyday life on Beyond Coast, such as biodegradable plastics, a problem which Kojima envisioned solved by 2040. I was a bit taken aback by given the foresight of the plastics issue given our own real-world news cycles being dominated by topics like microplastics in recent years.

The level of real science involved in the encyclopedia is rewarding for those of us who like to devour every bit of information we can get our hands on and can pick out the real from the fictional and it helps make Beyond Coast feel all the more real. The sci-fi Japanifornia that is Beyond Coast is almost a character unto itself to an even further extent than Snatcher's setting of Neo Kobe and remains in my book one of the most fleshed out and believable settings in all of gaming. Furthermore the knowledge Hideo Kojima has in a time before the level of availability and access to information we have in the current internet age is hugely impressive.

Overwhelming density is a recurring aspect of the game which may make or break your enjoyment of it. For a game that is less interactive than Snatcher it is somehow more dense, intimidatingly so if you are willing to indulge in its encyclopedia and really study the universe that Kojima created. The player is also able to examine a shocking number of elements of backgrounds and get multiple optional lines of dialogue about them, although as previously noted Policenauts offers much less in the way of diversion and distraction, and is significantly more linear.

Some of the core themes and strengths of Policenauts are similar to Snatcher, and while not all of them are as well executed this time around, a number of them exceed Snatcher. The importance of family, as well as different utilizations of it, is highlighted through the game. For Jonathan it is a trauma. A source of obligation and a constant reminder of not belonging in the world. Fellow former policenauts Ed Brown and Joseph Sadaoki Tokugawa are also used to explore these themes, with Ed's family keeping him grounded after personal and professional tragedy leaves him similarly traumatized and Tokugawa's lineage is a guiding beacon, instilling in him an ambition that sees his rise to the head of the Tokugawa Corporation, which has become large enough in the 25 years Jonathan spent in cryo sleep that it's said to quite literally own outer space. Ed's scenes with his family are perhaps the emotional core of the game and are shockingly well done for a game that features slapping a woman's breasts in an attempt to swat a mosquito.

Further themes explored are the way that the past becomes the future, and how easily it is manipulated by bad actors with agendas when few people who lived through it are around to contradict those agendas and narratives. Policenauts also plays into real history in its utilization of time as a story theme with its character names, often referencing real Sengoku-era Japanese family clans.

It is a fascinating predictor for some of the subjects explored through some of Kojima's later works. The toll that time takes on individuals is is also a constant fixture of the story. Pioneering heroes become broken down and traumatized. Corruption will slowly trickle in if you allow it to in ways that a past self would've stood against. One's life can always change in the future for both better and worse in ways that the present self could never have foreseen.

Jonathan contrasts Snatcher's Gillian Seed masterfully in this particular regard as a man who is a literal manifestation of the past, confronting his former comrades and the state of the world head-on as a reminder of the bright ideals that guided mankind to space to begin with. Also of particular note, without delving too much into spoiler territory, is the remarkable way that Jonathan trusts the corrupting factor of time to help Ed's son Marc given all the damage Jon has seen it do to those around him as well as the world itself.

Although there is a genuine tension to the game as well as a real feeling of both being and interacting with important in-universe figures, the conclusion of the game is a bit lackluster and sudden. Policenauts' plot is largely intentionally predictable, only containing a few twists you might not expect. The game's romance, previously noted as being a bit inexplicable, is ultimately resolved very satisfyingly and in a way that reinforces some prominent themes of the game.

Just as well the game takes criticism of Snatcher (and adventure games as well as visual novels as a whole) a little unevenly. It is far more linear than Snatcher, but features significantly more combat sections that see the player shoot an ungodly number of bullets and drop a frankly impossibly comedic amount of enemies by the end of the game. They are unnecessary and detract from the experience a bit, but understandable over-correctons to criticism of the traditional Japanese adventure game genre as well as Snatcher in particular.

As an aside, Policenauts features one of the most clever inclusions of a sound test mode that allows you to listen to various tracks from the game including its haunting opening theme "End of the Dark" as well as the fantastic "One Night in Neo Kobe" that was featured in the opening of Snatcher.

Policenauts is an uneven experience that in some ways reflects common trappings of its time while also looking forward to humanity's future. It asks some very pertinent questions about humanity's ability to conquer big issues if we are so unable to conquer the worst aspects of ourselves. Its usage of time and the trauma it can inflict on even the best of us can be rather sobering to see, and Jonathan's hope for Ed's son in the face of that is rather inspiring.

In some ways it reacts too strongly to criticism of adventure games as whole as well as Snatcher in particular by creating a lighter, more predictable and linear experience with more lightgun gameplay segments that detract from the overall package. Its sexuality and hamfisted comedy that comes part and parcel with the sexy adventure micro-genre can be a pain point, and it can be off putting in its density if you allow it to be. In some ways it is inferior to Snatcher, which makes an incredible case for the necessity of actually playing a good adventure game rather than just watching it that Policenauts sadly does not live up to.

But despite it all Policenauts is every bit as clever as Snatcher and in some ways it is just as strong, if not even stronger, a predictor of Hideo Kojima's future runaway success with Metal Gear Solid. Its highs may often not reach the peaks that Snatcher does, but even its valleys remain far higher than most games you could spend your time on and it remains a constant influence on some of the most popular indie game standouts like VA-11 Hall-A, 2064: Read Only Memories and Mullet Mad Jack.

If you have an interest in the works of Hideo Kojima, traditional Japanese style adventure games or the sexy adventure micro-genre, a vacation to Beyond Coast might be just the thing for you.

A gem hidden among the stones, Policenauts is undoubtedly stardust.

-- Ash

[everygame]

Thank Goodness You’re Here!

Developed/Published by: Coal Supper / Panic Released: 1/08/2024 Completed: 7/08/2024 Completion: Finished it!

It seems contrarian for me to open this by saying this is definitely the best game of 2024 and it’s definitely going to be my favourite game of the year… but it’s true.

The thing, I suppose, that makes that kind of wild, declarative statement seem so difficult to declare is that… games are just so broad, aren’t they? Playing something like Thank Goodness You’re Here! is so unbelievably different from playing, say, my favourite game of last year, Hi-Fi Rush, that it doesn’t feel as easy to say as declaring one movie “the best film of the year.” I mean in that case, you still just sit there and watch a movie. There’s not quite the same… granularity of experience. I mean even if you were talking indie games, Balatro touches such a different part of my brain from Thank Goodness You’re Here! So how could I ever, really, compare them?

Well, you know what? Sometimes you gotta just stick your flag somewhere, and my flag goes in the top of a Yorkshire pudding, and when it unfurls it’s the flag… of Yorkshire. Which surprised me, because I’m Scottish, so normally it goes in the top of a Scotch pie, and it’s a Saltire, so I guess I really like Thank Goodness You’re Here!

To describe it, though, which is what you’ve paid for, Thank Goodness You’re Here is a non-evil Untitled Goose Game. You play, in some respects similarly, an agent of chaos in a small town: a tiny man with… jaundice(?) who has been sent to the town of Barnsworth to help the mayor, but end up in the tangle of everyone’s lives. You help them do things that sound explicitly rather simple like mowing a lawn to buying some soup… but it’s not simple at all.

Unlike Untitled Goose Game, your tiny man isn’t just a wee dick; you’re actually helping people, it just happens to be in a very anarchic fashion. You rise to the level of the town, rather than lowering it, so outside of a few smacky bum-bums, you never feel like you’re bullying anyone… well maybe that guy with the chimney. But the joke works.

It would be regressive to describe this game as “weird” or “crazy.” What it is, and what makes it so brilliant, is that it’s so British. If you love the era of British comedy that brought us things like Look Around You or Alan Partridge, you’ll feel right at home here, and I was genuinely laughing all the way through this. Mileage may vary: some jokes and sequences are unbelievably puerile, some are a little smutty; some are… disturbing, but there’s a joyful nature to this whole thing, and it’s all so rapid fire that if something falls flat, it’s not long before you’re laughing about something else.

I think also that the game has a near-perfect take on interactivity for this kind of story-based experience. Outside of special sequences basically all you can do is slap things or jump, but everything is reactive, and the level design is cleverly focused; your path through the game is a sequence of designed loops that you can’t deviate from, but as a result you don’t suffer from the kind of downtime you can struggle with in more open adventures and which can ruin immersion. 

Here you’ll never return to an area and discover it static, how you left it, and have to waffle around trying to find X or Y; you’re always moving forward onto Z. I can hear the criticisms, but at least for me this never felt restrictive; the only issue I really had was feeling that I had to put the game down regularly lest I finish it too quickly–though it’s surprisingly lengthy for something featuring so much bespoke art and sequences, at almost five hours.

To be honest, the game manages something that I wish designers of interactive experiences–think your Meow Wolfs, your Sleep No Mores–would learn from, which is how to always be guiding your player forward through a space and yet still allow them to experience it at their own pace. Sure, it has the benefit of being able to lock doors behind you, and there aren’t 300 other tiny men with jaundice trying to do everything in it at the same time (though I’d love to see that?) but I couldn’t help but be impressed with the flow.

(This may relate to me seeing Sleep No More before it closes just before playing this, finding it a hard to navigate mess of meaningless rooms in a warehouse and thinking it was fucking rubbish.)

The reason, really, that this is my game of the year already is that it’s trying to do something specific and it’s doing it as unbelievably fucking well as anyone probably could. Your dexterity won’t be challenged, your brain won’t be taxed, but they don’t need to be. Sure it’s a funhouse mirror, but if someone was to ask me “What’s the UK like?” from now on, I’ll probably just say “Play Thank Goodness You’re Here!”

Will I ever play it again? Absolutely. Not for a long time, I think, but I didn’t technically see “everything” according to the achievements, and I’d like to.

Final Thought: For categorisation sake, I would like to mention that I do think that Thank Goodness You’re Here! is largely specifically English, and Northern English at that, but there are enough commonalities and it features a big role for Davey Swatpaz that I think it’s fair to think of it as extremely British anyway. And speaking of the excellent casting, Matt Berry is in this and as always he’s brilliant. There are few games where I’d say “I really hope you run out and buy this” but there are few things that are such polished diamonds, and even though this was funded by Panic, who apparently have enough money that they can piss it up on a wall on the world’s most niche handheld (hey, I still bought it) smaller games are having such a rough time of it that when they’re good we should really, you know, reward that. Don’t just do it for me; do it for Tiny Tom. Or Big Ron.*

*pie size preference depending.

Support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up digital copies of exp., a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.

[superthatguy62]

The Differences and Influence of  the Final Fantasy 1 manga

While Final Fantasy is certainly no stranger to adaptations and alternate media, it’s mostly towards the later entries such as VII or XV depending on how you feel about such media, this may not be a bad thing.

When it comes to the first three entries, their adaptations are the most mysterious: Final Fantasy III got an absolutely insane manga, Final Fantasy II got a somewhat insane novelization and Final Fantasy I has an obscure manga. As these came out long ago in Japan and were rarely, if ever, re-released, knowledge on these media remains scarce.

However, TrafalgarScans on MangaDex has translated the entirety of the Final Fantasy I manga, allowing english readers to experience it for the first time.

And, while a straightforward retelling of the original game, there are a few interesting elements in it. Elements that may seem somewhat familiar if you’ve Dissidia or Stranger of Paradise Final Fantasy Origin.

Before we begin, I’m going to be doing something different from my previous discussions: Rather than doing a summary/play-by-play of the manga, I’m mostly going to be talking about things I noticed, whether they be different... or indirectly indicative of where Square would take FF1 in the future. As that implies, I will be discussing spoilers for Dissidia and Strangers of Paradise.

For context: The manga was written Kaimejii Yuu and was released in 1989: 2 years after the first game landed on Famicom, one year before it arrived on NES and the same year as the MSX port. So rejoice Space Station!Flying Fortress fans.

Let’s start with one of the obvious ones: 

The Party

The original Final Fantasy centers around four Warriors of Light who mysteriously appear, each with a crystal fragment.

In the manga, we are introduced to the members of the party bit by bit: First, there is Puffy who seems to be a traveling Warrior.

Puffy later meets Flitz/Fritz, a Monk who was kicked out of his monastery for his vices.

A Monk and a Warrior. Seems standard so far. But then there are the other 2 members.

Matoya, a witch who is skilled with black magic.

And the fourth party member... who isn’t introduced until quite a ways in. While Sarah and Bikke both join the party, the true forth member turns out to be none other than

Bahamut, the king of dragons.

Naturally, this is a pretty big deviation: Matoya and Bahamut are NPCs in the game after, but here, they’re main characters. Matoya would go on to be a prominent character in FF1, even being playable in spinoffs for what it’s worth. However, I don’t think there are many FF1 interpretations that put the NPCs in the WoL roles.

They’re not the only ones different, however

The Villains

The Final Fantasy manga follows a somewhat condensed version of the game. It’s actually kinda close to how Memory of Heroes did it, with the focus largely on Garland and the Four Fiends, concluding with a bout against Chaos.

Garland generally keeps his overall role, including his infatuation with Sarah (which makes me wonder what was the first media to touch on that aspect of him) but also has some significant differences: He doesn’t wear armor, he doesn’t seem to die before vanishing and the manga more blatantly sets up the plot twist by showing Garland entering the Dark Crystal. Only Flitz notices though, so he’s the first to realize that Garland’s behind everything once the Warriors learn about the whole she-bang from the Lufenians.

There’s also his name, but we’ll get to that.

The Warriors are promptly attacked by the Four Chaos/Fiends. There’s the Lich, who is looking positively Mobius!Chaos today.

Then we have Marilith, who looks about how you’d expect.

Then we have Kraken... Who is...

And last but not least, we have Tiamat, who has both a monster form and a humanlike form.

And then there’s Chaos, whose design is vaguely reminiscent of how Garland’s armor would evolve from Dissidia onwards mixed with traits from his Chaos form.

Oh yeah, Garland. Did you know that’s not his full name in this adaptation? Yup, long before “Jack Garland” would use the last name Garland, this Garland had the full name of “Red Garland”.

And here’s where we start to get into the influence that this manga may or may not have had on Square-Enix’s future interpretations of Final Fantasy 1.

The Backstory

In the games, the Warriors of Lights’ backstory is left unexplained. This plays into the role-play/”create a party” aspect of the game: It’s up to the player, if they so chose, to fill in the blanks about who their characters are and where they came from.

Memory of Heroes, being a close adaptation of the games, leaves its characters’ backstories ambiguous outside of tying a further connection to Garland as his time shenanigans “unchained” the Warriors of Light and wiped their memories, explaining why they can remember nothing and why nobody recognizes them.

Dissidia Final Fantasy, while not directly touching upon the events of FF1 itself, gives a backstory to its Warrior of Light: He’s a perfect manikin created by Cid of the Lufaine and placed within the cycles of conflict. Over time, he grows into more of an actual person and continuously comes to blows with Garland, who already knows him from the cycle back home. In the end, WoL ends up in the FF1 world and sets off on his journey, determined to not only save the world from Chaos but to free Garland from the endless cycle he unwittingly trapped himself in.

The manga, however, gives a more detailed backstory.

Early in Chapter 2, Puffy explains that she is not actually from that world; In another dimension, she worked at an inn and was just an ordinary girl. However, on her way to visit her friend Matoya, she winds up slipping through a dimensional barrier. When she wakes up, she’s surrounded by the circle of sages who explain the situation to her and send her off to fight Chaos, despite her attempts to argue otherwise. Puffy later meets up with a different version of Matoya, and soon after the manga begins.

This is largely forgotten about until climax, where it becomes much more important:

As one of Lufenia’s Knights of Gaia/Sky Warriors, one of the bats in the Chaos Shrine explains a bit further: It’s not just Puffy, all four of the Warriors apparently hail from other dimensions. The Knights figured that the best way to stop Chaos was to get four people from parallel worlds that Chaos did not exist in, resulting in heroes with fresh perspectives from worlds in which the crystals were not compromised. Thus they set up barriers that would link the five worlds together and the four Warriors of Light seen in the manga wound up being the four that were chosen (the manga mostly focuses on Puffy, but the implication is that Flitz, Bahamut and that version of Matoya all hail from similar parallel worlds). After Chaos is defeated, the four end up being sent back to their own worlds with no memory of their adventure. Puffy in particular goes back to being an innkeeper and serves drinks to various patrons... including Garland who, although rejected by Sarah yet again, has not turned into Chaos and is an overall decent guy.

What makes the dimensional stuff even more surprising is the meta aspect: Either great minds think alike, the parallel world stuff was in the Japanese FF1 or Square Enix took inspiration from this very manga.

Dissidia Final Fantasy is a big fat crossover featuring the protagonists from the first couple games. While the first game was somewhat ambiguous, Dissidia 012 (the prequel) would establish that the game took place on World B: A destroyed parallel counterpart to World A, which is the world of Final Fantasy 1. The reports in 012 would also establish that Onrac stumbled upon a dimensional gate which would be how they acquired the ore that allowed them to produce manikins. 

Stranger of Paradise takes the parallels even further. The concept of Lufenians drawing in people from parallel worlds to function as Warriors of Light was embodied in the Stranger Project. However, it turns out that the manga beat them to the punch with Knights of Gaia’s dimensional barriers. Of course, the KoG were benevolent compared to the SoP Lufenians who were malevolent. The concept of summoning warriors from other worlds would naturally be used there too, although in 012′s case, it’s due to Shinryu’s influence creating gateways.

And speaking of...

The Lufenians

The Lufenians are a simple, standard “Ancient Civilization with advanced tech (TM)” that was common in fantasy stories and would become a recurring trend in Final Fantasy, one that still remains even to this day. As far as plot significance go, they remain primarily in the background: They’re one of the civilizations the WoLs encounter their space station is the Semi-final dungeon and their champions were turned into bats that infodump a number of aspects about the overarching plot. 

Then there’s Cid. In the original Final Fantasy, while the airship is said to be a Lufenian creation I think, I need to fact that that, there’s no mention of any particular Lufenian who created it. Later versions would name the Lufenian “Cid”, in keeping with series tradition of naming the prominent airship engineer “Cid”. Memory of Heroes gave a Cid a more prominent role, leaving behind video projections to show what happened to the Flying Fortress, entrusting the warp cube to the robots and burying the airship that the Warriors of Light find and use to travel in the later half of the story.

However, Cid’s actions are actually somewhat familiar.

In the manga, a Lufenian (not Cid, though with the benefit of hindsight and how SE would’ve handled it, he may as well be) features prominently in the intro, leaves one of the robots to gather the warp cubes in preparation for the day the Warriors of Light arrive and leaves behind a video projection, with the man himself being long dead by then. Not!Cid’s exposition is different though, tying into how the energies from the four shrines can be seen converging on the Chaos Shrine from the Space Station as well as discussing the Knights of Gaia for a bit.

There’s also the dark crystal. In Final Fantasy, Garland is seen in front of a dark crystal in the Chaos Shrine. When the Warriors travel back to the past, they play the lute in front of the shrine, transforming the crystal into a portal. Stranger of Paradise would explain the crystal as being a “Dimensional Crystal Matrix”, sent to them by their unnamed collaborator.

Again, however, this is not the first time this has happened.

Turns out, the Dark Crystal in the manga is a “Time-Space Transfer Device”. The Knights of Gaia had used the device to set up the barriers to summon warriors from other worlds. However, Chaos took control of the device soon afterwards and used it to set up the time loop that would bring him to power. Coincidence or not, the manga Lufenians’ usage of the device would be echoed in the aforementioned two different aspects (the Dimensional Crystal Matrix and the Stranger Project). SoP would also echo the element of Garland taking control of the device for his own uses.  

Conclusion

In the Stranger of Paradise Confidential Files -Secret Chapters- (An official complete guide - Thanks ChrysalisThoughts for the clarification! ), one of the questions posed to the developers is why Jack’s station is known as “Station 19″. While the final game has its own independent time loop, apparently it was named after SoP being the 19th time Final Fantasy 1 was ported/remade at the time, with the idea of different strangers being dispatched from different stations for each of the remakes.

While that plan ultimately didn’t fully pan out, the implication of Final Fantasy 1 having parallel worlds or a connection to other worlds in general is one that has echoed throughout the franchise.

- The Final Fantasy manga utilizing the concept of parallel worlds for its protagonists.

- The Souls of Chaos dungeons featuring prominent bosses from the other 5 Nintendo-era Final fantasy games.

- Dissidia introducing “World B” with 012 establishing it of being a parallel world to the world of the original Final Fantasy

- Memory of Heroes implying that the Warriors of Light of its three adaptations (and perhaps beyond) either inherit the will/souls of the previous ones or are the previous ones reincarnated in another world.

- And Stranger of Paradise’s original intentional of having parallel worlds, along with its hinted connection to World B

It’s looking more and more like a DC multiverse, especially if you flub things to suggest that each interpretation is its own parallel world.

But, in a way, it’s oddly fitting. Final Fantasy is a game that has you make your own party. The game gives no detail as to their character or backstory. You’re encouraged to fill in the blanks yourself, hence why fanfics and such can vary wildly with how everyone ca reinterpret the story. In a way, it’s fitting that SE themselves get in on it. And it’s interesting how, almost every time, multi-dimensional shenanigans manage to get involved.

I dunno.

I just think it’s neat.

[loving-apparitions]

Hello, could I request a snatcher x reader where reader is dyslexic? I feel guilty for not being able to read lengthy compressed text (especially when it's in the Times New Roman font), because he probably has a favorite story that he wants me to read and I just can't no matter how hard I try. I normally have to hear it spoken while I scan across the words.

I tried breaking up the text more than usual for this one. Your feedback is welcomed if there's anything I can do to make this an easier read for you!

Considering how he loves to show contracts to people, I think he'd find out pretty quickly that you have some difficulty reading.

Without you asking he might just read what he's written to you. "I'd be a pretty terrible employer if I didn't make my requests clear, wouldn't I?"

He's honestly not totally contract obsessed, so he soon just ditches showing you the papers.

Particularly of course once your relationship is at a point that he doesn't feel like he needs to pretend does he stop with any legal games.

Mostly Snatcher communicates with you verbally, but if he wants to leave you anything written, he puts in the extra effort to print cleanly with large letters and space.

He quite enjoys calligraphy and changing his penmanship by document, so this is no bother (it's kind of fun to him, like a challenge to make something both pretty and readable).

They include little drawings and pictures too in hopes of it helping.

They're an avid reader, so if you're interested in a book, they're happy to cuddle up and read to you.

He adores snuggling up with you, as well as reading or re-reading, so it's an enjoyable activity for him to hold you close and read aloud.

He'll pick out books you're interested in, books that he thinks you'll enjoy, or books that he's passionate about and wants to share.

If it helps you, Snatcher will also trace a finger under the words as he reads and you follow along.

He wants you to be able to understand the story, and he believes the best way to experience a book is exactly as it's written rather than summarized.

Of course, just because direct source is his favorite way to understand a book, he knows it's not the only way.

He thinks nothing less of you if you want a summary instead. If you want to watch a movie adaptation though, he's going to let you know every way it deviates from the original.

This isn't an entirely new experience for them, as they've found several Subconites that can't read at all or that have difficulty reading.

That also means that the Subconites are generally understanding and accommodating of you.

And don't feel guilty about your dyslexia. Snatcher knows that ability to read text isn't the same as reading comprehension.

"Never apologize for how you read. You don't have to read print to be intelligent. You're much better at comprehending than the lot of idiots I come across."

[nian-7]

Hello there! Can I get a matchup for HypMic (platonic & romantic) and Genshin (platonic & romantic)? Any gender for platonic, but only male characters for romantic.

Zodiac: Aries (actually Pisces-Aries cusp if that matters)

MBTI: ISTJ

Enneagram: 5w6

I like structure, so routines give me comfort. I like to have my day planned out in the morning or the day before. I’m fine with few and slight deviations, but many and larger ones not only give me anxiety but also piss me off. For these kinds, I want at least 1-day notice, so I can rearrange my schedule.

I like order and cleanliness, so messiness is one of my biggest pet peeves.

I’m not an adventurous person, so I like to stick to what I know. If I were to be put into an unfamiliar situation, such as taking a trip to somewhere I have never been, then I would do some research ahead of time. I guess you can say that I don’t like to wing it.

I’m an indoor person rather than an outdoor. When I’m outdoors, my favorite places to go are local and national parks; I like being surrounded by nature with little people around. When I’m indoor, I enjoy binge-watching, drawing, and playing video games (RPG, open word, action, adventure, puzzle, and mystery/horror/romance visual novels).

I struggle with new people, but I feel that I’m quick to warm up to others.

I really hate conflicts, and I’m terrible with confrontations. I worry about upsetting others as well as am scared of being hurt, so I avoid asserting myself even when I feel/think that I’m right. I’m very sensitive, so I tend to take things personally, even when I logically know better. These are some of the reasons why I prefer to be a follower rather than a leader.

I’m not a big talker and like to keep to myself, so I really like being with others who are comfortable with verbal silence and don’t mind that I’m just physically existing in the same space as them. I’m not much of a talker, but I like to listen to others talk when they’re troubled.

I get jealous and envious easily, but it’s never to the point of being possessive and vindictive.

My love languages are acts of service, gifts, and words of affirmation; the one that I use the least is physical touch. The love languages that I like to receive are acts of service and words of affirmation.

I hope that this is enough information for you. Thanks for reading my rambling!

that's more than enough info, don't worry! enjoy your matchup!

I match you with... (platonically)

Jean!

-So, you'll notice a trend with these characters in the way that I tried to pick some clean and organized individuals! Jean being the first one.

-She also enjoys having a schedule and doesn't deviate from it much either. It just feels like the two of you have similar personalities which would lead you to both get along well.

-Jean is able to be assertive for you when you're not comfortable with doing so, often being there to defend you if needed when you don't feel like you can.

-She also thinks a lot about things she says so I don't think there'd be a miscommunication problem with her. She'll always make sure her words can't be taken badly but she can't always control that when she's upset.

I match you with... (romantically)

Zhongli!

-Zhongli is a gentle and polite man and respects your need for structure and organization. He's overall respectful of however you are and cares about you no matter what.

-Although he may not be confrontational either, he still will stand up for his lover. It may be a very calm defense but it still has good intentions of defending you.

-His love language is quality time but, he doesn't mind occasionally using words of affirmation. Acts of service are also nice too! He enjoys doing things for you and doesn't mind doing favors when you ask.

-He enjoys verbal silence if neither of you are talking or if he's talking about something he found interesting recently. He likes silence so it's no problem to him since you're still there.

I match you with... (platonically)

Hitoya Amaguni!

-Again, I picked more organized people/people who'd be able to take confrontation for you and be assertive and so that's how we get Hitoya!

-He's more assertive and confrontational than you and doesn't take lightly to it, especially if it was a reoccurring thing. I likely would have picked Kuko instead but, he was a bit too disorganized even though he would be assertive.

-Honestly, he doesn't try to push you out of your comfort zone and just goes along with whatever you want to do. He will sometimes if you express to him that you want to try it but usually he won't.

-Doesn't mind being a friend you can lean back on when you're not feeling confident with new people or with the environment you're in. He'll be there for you to fall back onto if you need to take a second and he won't ask questions unless you say something about it outright.

I match you with... (romantically)

Rosho Tsutsujimori!

-Rosho can get very defensive and protective of you seeing as you don't like confrontation. Seeing as he once chased down a guy because he was scamming his student, he'd have no problem getting into an argument for your sake.

-His words are always gentle when they're towards you even when he sometimes can come off harsh when talking to someone like Sasara. He tones it down for you knowing that you're more sensitive to words.

-He enjoys talking about his day since you're willing to listen. He talks about his students fondly and he honestly really appreciates the fact that you're willing to listen so intently.

-He tries his best to give you the love you deserve and shows it through acts of service usually, often finding it a bit difficult to show that love through words but it's the thought that counts!

[wolf-among-mechs]

🛸🍜 for the ask game.

- Star Captain/Colonel Hazen, @is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

Greetings Star Colonel. Somehow I was expecting you to ask me about my thoughts on a mech. You are free to do so as well of course. Nevertheless your choice of questions are still quite fun.

🛸 Is there a "canon rumor" theory (e.g. hyperspace weirdness, aliens, Phantom 'Mech Ability, time travel, alternate universes, the Lost Cameron) that you believe in? Or perhaps have experienced?

I have to admit that most of these rumors, these wild flights of fancy have an explaination. That is not to diminish anyone else's beliefs. But rather... I have already spoken about how in Kuritan space I was believed to be an Oni, an ogre of ancient terran myth on the planet Yance at first and then beyond. To the point where shinto priests put up paper wards to keep me away from settlements.

For a long time in the inner sphere the remains of General Kerensky's exodus fleet was still out there in space. That turned out to be very real. Many thought they were aliens at first. It came as a bit of a surprise that I was a descendant of them. In truth actually, to me when I was told of the clans when I had proved myself to the Dragoons in full, it felt like a strange myth. I was not sure what to think for a very long time. After a few years I was honestly ready to dismiss it as some sort of... Story to explain the founding of our company.

But as for what I currently believe... I feel a lot of uncertainty with hyperspace travel. What is to say that the next jump does not take you somewhere where a different choice was made at some point? Do you exit in the same reality that you left? There are so many decisions made every day big and small that the amount of deviation to the reality you left it is so highly unlikely you will ever notice. That thought troubles me.

I am also pretty sure there are aliens out there. Ones that could talk with us. Communicate. Like in holovids. They have got to be out there and figured out their own hyperdrives right? Something to transport them between stars. I get that space is big, mind boggingly big as one author once put it. But is it that big? Looking around the stars of the Inner Sphere the miracle of life is not a single isolated incident on Terra. It brings to mind an old... I do not know if proverb is the correct term. But I have seen it in litterature.

"Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying."

🍜= what is your favorite food?

Now for something a bit mundane. Food.

There are few things quite as satisfying as pizza or a kebab after when you return to the hangar in a condition to eat. Battles do take a lot out of you so something like that is good to get you on your feet. And water. So much water. Even with a cooling suit my mechs are always very hot.

Remember to rehydrate fellow mechwarriors.

But if we're talking favourite... Probably Rasalhagian sushi? It is probably slightly perplexingly specific. If there is a complaint I do have about sushi it is that is not very filling. And Rasalhagian food is maybe a bit bland sometimes. They smoothen over the others weakness quite well. If you have not had it. It consists mostly of the same things you would find for sushi plates but also variants for smoked herring and lobster. Which do have a different flavour profile entirely than salmon. It also a few different side dishes. Potato, gravy and meatballs are of course one of them. It is Rasalhague after all.

[eziojensenthe3rd]

Midnight Gaming: A Goldeneye on the past, a Mario Kart to the future

So last night I played Goldeneye 007 and Mario Kart 64 past midnight, checked socials later to find... nothing much to talk about to be honest. Oh well....

So James Bond in the gaming space was certanly a franchise of mostly first person shooters, with some branches into other genres and a brief phase of third-person games near the end with the most recent major release being Bloodstone. The Bond game being developed by IO of the hitman series looks to be the next game to be released after a long hiatus and looks to be promising.

I've played quite a few bond games in my time with the James Bond Gameboy game that played like Legend of Zelda, 007 Nightfire and Everything or Nothing on Gamecube and some Quantum of Solace and a "remake" that were on Wii. Of course, the very first Bond game I played was one of two of the very first games I owned as kid on my then new Nintendo 64, Goldeneye 007.

You find someone in their 30s or 40s and ask them about Goldeneye, they'll almost certanly assume you mean the game and tell you about all the multiplayer matches they had with their friends. Slappers only on temple, rocket launchers in facility. You'd bear witness to a moment of pure happiness on their face, of course once they start to complain on how modern games arent as good anymore, thats your cue to just nod, back away slowly and once you're far enough away, turn around and break into a sprint. Getting some distance while they're distracted first gives you some insurance so they dont catch you quick, we have decent speed at the start but dogshit stamina, we'll slow down and get exhausted after a bit. You dont need to outrun, just outpace us, anyways.

I liked playing goldeneye a lot as a kid, the dam being pretty dam iconic level with its flyover at the start before moving into the main characters head as the level starts, the sniper rifle up on the first watch tower, the bungee jump cutscene at the end end. The dam level has to be up there with Dooms and Duke Nukem 3ds 1st levels as a great opening to the game.

A lot of folks tend to credit this game as being an example of a good movie license game, though thats only because the game wasnt made to tie in with the movie. Most movie license games are made to act as part of the films extended merchandise, you watched the film now heres the video game of the film. These kinds of games tend to be made cheaply and on a strict time budget since it needs to be released on time with the movie, and as a result, a lot of movie license games tended to be average "at best".

Now Goldeneye, its good, its aged, its the first of a style of First Person Shooters thats been seen in perfect dark and the timesplitters series, there isnt much analysis I can give it other than the games level structure does tend to deviate a bit from the actual film with scenes being different such as the sibera level and the bunker after it, to outright new levels that arent based on anything from the film itself such as that timed silo level. Maybe the game was based on the novel you may ask since a lot of the James Bond draws from the Ian Fleming novels, except thats not the case since Goldeneye was completly original. So no, the development just made whatever decisions they felt needed to be made on how the main story missions play out. Fun fact, if you played alot of the game on the easy difficulty in your early years and decided to play it on Agent difficulty for a blog series, you get to experience some of the differences between difficulties, such as the fact that in the silo level, the timer starts when the level begins rather than starting when you first place your first plasticine. So you get to experience a small panic as your memory gets thrown off completely.

If you wanted to play Goldeneye 007 nowadays, your best "legal" means is the xbox "remaster" that doesnt allow online multiplayer or the nintendo switch version that allows online but is locked behind an NSO + Expac Sub. We could have had a remaster along the same vain as Perfect Darks remaster on the Xbox 360 Live Arcade but that unfortunately ended up getting cancelled with only a leaked build being the only way anyone found out it existed. You can find a video of a playthrough here:

Goldeneye 007 had some prestige in a lot of gaming circles, so what did EA do? They had a game released that used the name but had nothing to do with the n64 game. It was called Goldeneye Rouge Agent and it started with James Bond fucking dying and you played a former mi6 agent who bums around with a lot of bond villains in a rather forgettable first person shooter. Was there any justification for calling it Goldeneye? Does the satellite weapon itself have anything to do with it? No its cause you have a golden eye that lets you use 4 powers. Thats it, its called Goldeneye cause you have a Golden Eye.

When the Bond License did leave EA's hands and entered Activision's, a Goldeneye remake was made and released onto the Wii and got ported onto Xbox and Playstation afterwards. This sounds like great news except for one small problem, it wasnt really a remake of Goldeneye so much as it was Call of Duty wearing a Goldeneye Skinsuit. To be fair, I like how the Goldeneye-make works like a secret Daniel Craig era film with a lot of the levels being reimagining on the old N64 Levels with some new levels added to suit this remakes story. Of course its all in service to a Call of Duty structure so there will be a lot of set pieces and quick-time events throughout.

Know what? Anyone remember Goldeneye Source? That mod that recreates the multiplayer from Goldeneye within the Source engine? Yeah that mod was pretty cool.

Our next game is Mario Kart 64 which was the second game I had alongside Goldeneye on my N64. The main title theme with Mario saying "Welcome to Mario Kart" will be etched forever into my memory banks till the day I die.

Everyones heard of Mario Kart, its a go kart mascot racer with mario characters, with power ups you grab to help you against your rivals. Its one of nintendo's ongoing series along with other franchises such as mario party, mario golf, mario tennis, paper mario, mario, super mario, new super mario and of course, luigis mansion.

Now, every Mario Kart game has its own thing its known for, something thats notable about that game that fans know it for. Super Mario Kart was the first, Double Dash has the dual characters on one kart, Wii had online, tricks and bikes, Super Circuit was the first portable one, DS brought a mission mode and the first to feature retro tracks from previous titles, 7 has gliding and underwater sections as well as kart customisation and 8/deluxe has the anti gravity sections on tracks. So what was unique to 64? What did it bring to the Mario Kart series?

Well, it was just a better playing Super Mario Kart that can be played with 4 players. Thats it.

It is as Mario Kart as Mario Kart could be around that time, while in retrospect it doesnt have much significance compared to its contemporaries, it atleast helped create the foundation that future mario karts were built off of. Plus the battle mode and courses were great in this. So heres a few of my favourites in no particular order.

Kalimari Desert: Cool track. Its notable feature is the train that goes around the level with several parts of the track that crosses the trains path. Either you stop to wait for the train to go past or you gun it and risk getting hit by the train.

Frappe Snowland: Yeah the snowman crowd you have to drive through can be troublesome but I like the look of this level. Just a nighttime snowy track to race through.

Moo Moo Farm: 8/Deluxe has Moo Moo Meadows which is a better version of what Farm does but Moo Moo Farms walked so that Moo Moo Meadows could run and I wont entertain hearsay on this manner.

DK Jungle Parkway: It has that massive Jump over the steamboat which is pretty dang cool. Does have some strict "keep off the grass" policies since if you ever dip a tire onto the grass, a random ape will chuck something at you.

Toads Turnpike: Honestly a pretty awesome track where you race on a busy highway, dodging several other vehicles on the road.

Yoshi Valley: A big twisty mess of a track with several different routes you can take along with a large spinning yoshi egg. Heck the game doesnt even show your position among the other racers as if to say this track is confusing but its more fun than confusing.

Royal Raceway: This is a nice simple track with an absolutely massive jump in it. Honestly its neat and you can visit the grounds of peachs castle.

Banshee Boardwalk: I always like spooky-themed stuff even in video games. The foreboding atmosphere, the cheep cheep that jumps over the track, the bat swarms that fly out of two places in the abandoned building of the track. Also you sometimes have a swarm of boos around you as you race that dont do anything but add to the atmosphere, I think the render used in those moments is neat and I feel it doesnt get seen much in most mario media compared to the other boo renders.

Rainbow Road: I get that this track has its haters do to how long and uneventful this is with only a few chain chomps to worry about. I get that 8/deluxe had a better version of 64 Rainbow Road. Regardless I like how the track looks and how final it feels. How this is essentially the final track of Mario Kart 64, like you're racing along on the games credits scene. All the characters having neon art thats dotted around the track is nice lil touch. Its the queer superhighway and I dig it.

Mario Kart 64 may not have aged too well but I hold a lot of sentimental value for it. It and Goldeneye were the first games I recall playing and since then i've been fascinated with video games ever since. Its a form of media i've been obsessed with for years now from gaming topics to walkthroughs to development and so much more. Its something i've held a lot of love and care for over the years.

I hold a lot of nostalgia for a lot the games I've played over the years but the thing about nostalgia is how much of an abused drug it is. Forget fentanyl or opiods, Nostalgia is one of the most abused form of chemicals this side of the universe  especially with how many companies try to exploit that nostalgia for financial gain. Nostalgia often comes from the happy memories we had with the people and things we once enjoyed. Absence makes the heart grow fonder so naturally people cheer for a remake or a remaster of the old stuff they enjoyed. However that absence along with the unreliable narrator that is our memories, a lot of what people feel nostalgic for are often much different than what it was really like. How often has something you felt nostalgic for didnt live up to that feeling and instead ended up being aged poorly? More than you'd think but less than you feared.

Every year so far feels like its trying to outdo the previous with how dreary and dreadful it is. 2025 already has a lot going for it and yet it decided to start the year off with the horrible wildfires going on in LA right now. The coming months will feel like a challenge at times and I worry about whats coming round the corner, especially since last week i've had to be taken to the hospital due to abdominal pain. Im better now and I was able to avoid surgery but that health scare did leave me needing to be attentive to my diet and habits because it really isnt fun having to go the hospital to try and figure out what the hell is wrong with you especially when you go around midnight and dont go back home until 7 am.

Its 9:09pm now at the time writing this, tomorrow is gonna be my birthday and my mothers. I'll be 32 this year and while there is some dread to have for this year, im gonna not focus on that and instead on what I enjoy such as the work I do writing these lil articles. For those of you who fear the future, know that you managed to survive all the years that came before you and im confident you'll survive this one too. Even as things feel terrible, as the world weariness grows, the few moments of happiness you share with family and friends will keep your soul alive. And hey if you feel you need to chase the rose-tinted dragon, well you certainly dont have a shortage of remastered or remade media to look forward too, just dont abuse that nostalgia cause as they say, theres nothing new in the past...

God I'd love to see remasters of the EA Bond Games... except Rouge Agent, that can stay where it belongs.

Thanks for reading this edition of Midnight Gaming. Feel free to leave feedback and game suggestions. Talk to you another time.

[r3drubix]

Wanted to put the extra pics I did here to avoid cluttering the other post

Also gives an extra spotlight to characters I obviously have no bias for /s

So the deal with Foster (to put it shortly) is due to both trauma and heavy discipline brainwashing, one child has become three each fighting for the P1 controller to pet the dog. Foster is the name they all use collectively but each have their own name and sense of self (Harper, Corbin* and Scruffy going from left to right).

After a while though it did accidentally evolve into a game of "how many other weird things can be put onto this character during play before my ST stops me?" Spoilers: He's throwing more things at me even after the original Chronicle has ended hsujafekdgbrf

Though they are identical** in appearances, they each present themselves differently within a shared mental space that they can communicate and interact with one another subconsciously (you know how the emotions in "Inside Out" have their shared control room? A lot like that in terms of how it functions).

Mentally (and how they may appear as visuals for readers) the three differ their looks a lot more, which I made into a bonus picture below (totally not me liking this specific piece too much what do you mean).

I put a few other details and disclaimers under the Read More tab below, likely not too important but still wanting to mention it here for transparency.

I felt a personal need to be super careful as to not call what Foster has going on as D.I.D. as:

I have no personal experience with the disorder nor done full research prior to playing them in the TTRPG at the time (and thus run the risk of it being considered misleading representation).

Given the context of how Harper specifically came to be, which was less splitting from Corbin (*The "Host" to put it loosely) and more a whole person's worth of memories being put into a different individual.

2/3 of the Foster Kids have only ever known being a Supernatural (with one small exception), so making the way they operated in the one body as to be more fantastical/fictional in nature rather than something grounded in a real dissociative disorder felt more in theme with the setting and character.

**In terms of making a more finalised design for them, I wanted to figure out a way of being able to visually distinguish which one of the three is in the driver's seat at any given time. After thinking on it for a little I decided to make notable (but not off-putting) tweaks in their eyes and noses, which would help emphasise the differences further through more obvious things (like dialogue, facial expression, and body language).

Only other thing I sorta want to mention is that I am aware of certain spaces being iffy with WOD content that deviates from the norm (or source materials), to the point I have been actively warned as much. I wanna say in regards to that is Foster was my first PC in the system that got me to loving Vampire (and the world my ST created) in the first place, perhaps even solidified my general love for TTRPS even! If you want a place to avoid that, I’m willing to provide a space for folks. Not trying to be high and mighty about it, I’m just aware that WOD is more niche a space compared to systems like DND due to info content being harder to find (and I want to talk to peeps about the stuff I like lol).

[greenerteacups]

Do you think Hermione would be a kindle person ?

absolutely. for one, i don't think hermione tends to care about aesthetics in general. we never see her pay much attention to her space or dress unless it's a special occasion, and she uses the library so much i doubt that she has a private book collection. for two, she's ruthlessly practical; she'd probably love the convenience of being able to access multiple books without having to haul them around. for three, i think hermione's reading is generally object-oriented, e.g. research, rather than for-pleasure — i say this being aware that i deviate from this in my fic, but hermione doesn't often talk about reading outside of an exterior knowledge-oriented goal. based on the titles she rattles off to harry, it seems like the majority of her reading list is nonfiction, specifically magical history and textbooks. which makes sense! seeing as (a) she is living in a Magical Fucking Castle and (b) books are the only reference items she is given. i do also think she enjoys it, since her range of knowledge is incredibly versatile and she is known on occasion to reread texts — which isn't something you do if you're not in it for the love of the game — but she's a brass-tacks kind of girl and I think she'd jump at the chance to improve her efficiency.

[tiredassmage]

27, 13, and 7 for the new Rook questions!

Thank you, thank you, you know I always love talking about my beloved son <3

[50 questions for Rook (story-edition?)]

7. Did Rook ever encounter the Blight before the events of the game?

For better or worse, Tyr's called Minrathous home for as long as he can remember, which has certainly presented its own challenges, but Blight, at least, wasn't one of them. The kind of corruption that's familiar to him is what he might, on his more sullen days, accuse of being peoples' own - no potentially-apocalyptic deviations needed, something that has at least some kind of rooting back in being raised by a Tevinter military family with lessons about due deference and keeping your head down. Also the same kind of talk that made him so keen to join the Shadow Dragons when the offer came.

13. Which companion did Rook romance? What was the moment they fell in love?

Neve! You're allowed to say I'm predictable!!! 😭I swear I mean it when I didn't go in with any particular expectations or plans, but in hindsight, frankly of course he'd fall for Neve Gallus.

I do think there was a sort of natural gravitation to her for their shared work with the Shadows - that told him more than enough for him to take her advice on matters. As for how it happened? I'm not sure there's a single moment where he fell forward on his face about it, though I'm sure the moment he realized he'd fallen for her was a bit more matched to that description, lol. Probably... that first outing to the docks over Hal's fried fish? Okay, so maybe that wasn't the completely liable to trip over himself about her moment, but I think it's the beginning of his realizing he... really wants to get to know her. More. For all her talk of realism bordering on pessimism she accuses herself of, the Neve Gallus he sees is a woman determined to hold on to the little slice of hope she does have, and someone whose not, perhaps, as completely downtrodden about the world as she may seem. Her sense of humor never missing a chance to tease about tripping him up over what he's trying to say - even when it isn't flirting, or the gentle amusement with Bellara and Tevinter serials.

I think there's a lot of similarities between them that draw them together. Yes, they share the same goals with ties to the Shadow Dragons, but I think... even on a more personal outlook kind of note... maybe that they feel rather similarly about those goals? Or at least Tyr believes with a fairly high amount of certainty Neve isn't so far from believing ideals aren't entirely fairy-tales herself. And he wants to see more of that Neve Gallus - the hints through the cracks with the jokes and the fondness for the team, for the wisps (as much of a headache as them rearranging her notes may be), for Assan... for something a little... better, perhaps.

And, boy... that's when I think he falls hard. That side of her that's more playful, almost a bit... lighter. When he gets it in his head that he wants to prove that that side of her still has a place in it all, to encourage it and see more of it? There was no helping that man, and even two risen would-be gods weren't going to stop him from trying. And that's why he's Trouble. :3

27. Does Rook like being in charge of their team?

Honestly? For the most part, I think the answer is yeah. It's not probably much of a surprise given what made him fall so hard for Neve, but Tyr... does enjoy helping people he cares about - quite a bit. It's nothing to do with the title of the position and everything to do with just... enjoying being a person or a space they can come to for support. Someone they can count on.

And that's a boon to having a small, specialized team to him considering things as a leader. They get to know each other's strengths well, and get to build with focus then on how best to support one another.

Granted, the other side of this is that Tyr's not really the type to slow down until the pressing matters are handled to consider what wear and tear has worn him down, and even when actively questioned about it, his first response is generally to put aside what's troubling his own mind to ensure others are managing alright enough first. I can collapse when this over and all that.

But the Lighthouse would never have felt remotely like home, or even perhaps... 'safe,' if you will, without the team - the people - around him. At the end of most days, I think... Tyr generally believes most people are good. The world is good. And it does a lot, I think, for him to have the kind of moments where that's exercised - building a team and being allowed to walk a part of their journey with them, for example, let alone how grand some of those journeys can seem on paper. The return of the griffons to Thedas, what it's like trying to navigate family, even... It's always nice knowing you're not alone having dreams and hopes in life after all, right? And those can be a lot easier to find when you've got someone ready to offer you hand when the inevitable stumbles happen. Bring the Light, as the Shadows say.

What can I say? Under whatever understanding of the realities of politics and betrayals and the other machinations that make the world go 'round, especially in a place like Tevinter, he always was a man of deep ideals. And people are... unpredictable, by nature. There's a lot of charm to that for him, on the sunnier days. And if he keeps looking off the docks like this at me I'm gonna start playfully teasing him about waxing over-poetic about it, but then he did also regularly moonlight as a pianist (a hobby he still enjoys, mind), so perhaps there'd be some truth to it, too. :3

He's stealing your music room, Solas. No take-backs.

[appears]

15th Anniversary

Perfume: ⊿ (2009.07.08)

Back in 2009 I named Perfume's ⊿ (pronounced "triangle") one of the most disappointing albums of the year. Disappointing didn't mean it was bad, but rather, I had oversized expectations that weren't met, and can you blame a fan for having such huge expectations after GAME? GAME was Perfume's first studio album, and the perfect blueprint for the Perfume-sound worked out and solidified after a string of experimental indie singles, all spearheaded by mastermind Yasutaka Nakata. But⊿ was the album that could prove that Perfume was more than just a novelty, and that Nakata was more than an over-hyped producer-of-the-month. The album did extremely well: It hit #1 and stayed in the top 20 for six weeks. It has spawned some of Perfume's most well-known and beloved singles, including "love the world," "Dream Fighter," and their last #1 to date, "ONE ROOM DISCO" (most of their subsequent singles, including the eight immediately after this one, stubbornly peaked at #2). So why was I disappointed at the time, and how has hindsight changed the way I see this album?

⊿ is one of the more innovative albums in Perfume's discography, and today it's seen as one of their best, the type of album able to marry classic pop music with the broader electronic and house styles that Nakata was increasingly pushing into his productions. At the same time, it also managed to retain some of the jazzy finishes of his Shibuya-kei roots, all while retaining a fresh, commercial appeal perfect for shilling chocolate on television. In many ways, this was peak-Nakata: in 2009, the year ⊿ was released, he had just released Supreme Show, his collaboration with Ami Suzuki; STEP, his second album with MEG; and the house-heavy MORE! MORE! MORE! with capsule. You could forgive the guy for being a bit burned out less than a year later, and to me, one half of ⊿, the half not consisting of songs written over the course of 2008, shows that fatigue. There's the largely instrumental "edge (⊿-mix)" that meanders well past its welcome at nearly 10 minutes long, the mid-tempo duo "Kiss and Music" and "Zero Gravity," and the navel-gazing noodle of "Speed of Sound." These are songs that I initially disliked upon my first listen, although now I have to admit I find them charming call-backs to all the things I miss about this period of Nakata's music, from the push and pull between commercial resistance and total capitulation, to the self-indulgent instincts tempered by moments that feel catered to the broadest audience possible, culminating in great album cuts like "The best thing," "NIGHT FLIGHT" and even "I still love U."

I've spent a lot of time talking about Yasutaka Nakata, but the three women of Perfume, A-chan, Nocchi, and Kashiyuka, are the ones who really bring it all together with their personality and talent. Nakata once again focused on making the most out of the ways he could manipulate their voices, rather than on whatever unique vocal traits any one of them brought, tweaking everything to suit the music, and leaving the other half of Perfume's highly-skilled team of costume designers, choreographers, and light technicians to sell the unit. And they all do, fulfilling crucial elements that move in lockstep. So much of ⊿ was also finally committing to everything that has now become iconic about this group, from haircuts to wardrobe quirks, and the group has rarely deviated from it since. If at any time the group was going to do an image overhaul, this would have been it. Instead, they doubled down on and cemented what is now a comfortable, reliable space that fans have taken for granted.

Though I understand why I was disappointed when this album first came out, I've definitely come to appreciate it a lot more since it was first released, especially in the last five or so years, as Perfume have have gone through even more disappointing, lackluster phases, losing the innovative spirit that made anticipating new releases so fun. But whenever you joined the fandom, whether it was through this album, their earlier work, or that phase where dance music was reluctantly putting itself back together after the EDM firework burst, there are things to love about ⊿. It's hard to dismiss an album that includes so many classic J-pop songs that went on to change the sound of popular Japanese music for a long time (not taken into account when Billboard critics only ranked "love the world" the #7 best Perfume song of all time, but they put "TOKYO GIRL" and "FLASH" in the top three, so the whole list is sus), inspired a plethora of copy-cat groups, and forever carved Nakata's name into the game-changing J-pop producers Hall of Fame, right next to men like Haruomi Hosono and Tetsuya Komuro.

Since Team Perfume had mostly come to terms with the group's lack of forward momentum in 2016, they really focused on pushing Perfume as a legacy group, and like all legacy groups, that means cashing in on whatever they still could by recycling old music into new formats. That meant that many of Perfume's studio albums that had been originally released in regular CD-only and limited-edition CD+DVD versions were re-released on limited-edition vinyl. All of those were collected in a limited-edition LP box set that also included their second best-of collection, 2012's Perfume Global Compilation "LOVE THE WORLD. But perhaps it was a bit premature. Or rather, it's been a bit of a yo-yo recently -- while Perfume seemed to be making a bit of a comeback in recent years with PLASMA, "Moon" said don't hold your breath. Still, it's been encouraging to think that like now-iconic albums like ⊿, I might find myself re-evaluating "LOVE CLOUD" someday, too.

[bellshazes]

also like is this also all sideways-about the argument of cc/c! distinctions which i try really hard to never ever use because i think it's silly and limiting. not because i think e.g. roleplay series fan content constitutes rpf (jesus christ no) but because i think that there is a whole multi-dimensional space of "fictional stuff happening in a video game" that includes:

doing a little bit, for laffs

doing a bit that gets so out of hand it becomes emergent narrative in its own right and becomes the story of playing the game

using your imaginiation to fill in things not explicitly laid out by the game

playing yourself playing a character, which is a distinct thing from the you that you are though it is not separate

having what is functionally a work persona which is also not who you are but necessarily a product of you and thus not separate entirely

intentionally role-playing

accidentally role-playing

neither roleplaying nor not roleplaying but playing up something that you already are to an absurd degree that does not at all map onto how you are in non-game contexts

role-playing accidentally or intentionally in the same game space as someone who is just existing as themself, doing a bit, being subsumed by a bit, etc. and vice-versa

outright refusing to roleplay but succumbing to bits

scripting out in advance what you are going to do and then improvising it

reading scripts you have prepared in advance and not deviating from it

all of these are doing something not unlike fiction and also not unlike narrative in some way. i will force myself to use more words rather than use the cc/c distinction unless the thing i am saying is exceptionally silly or offhand.