#something to do with temperature control?

[meowcats734]

I pulled out my phone and started scouring the Orchard listings. The jobs weren’t great today. DEVIL TORTURING HUMANS WITHOUT A CONTRACT? Problematic, but I’d had enough of devils for a week after the Shrimp Sex debacle. HOT LONELY TRAPPED INSIDE OVERHEATING BUILDING? I hated dealing with temperature control, but I forwarded the job posting to a good Firefighter I knew. SWORD REFUSES TO LEAVE STONE?

That sounded like something I could handle. I was good at telling people when they had to move on. I opened the dossier. While renovating an old apartment complex, Hammerwall found some sapient war relic. Nobody really wanted to undergo construction while a telepathic sword was screaming at them, so they put out a bounty and hoped someone would convince it to leave. Fair enough. 

There was no conflicting magic localized on my body, so instead of the trams I just went straight to the portal network. A ragged creature with six arms and insectile chitin desultorily held up a sign that read NEED FAMILY in old Kessil glyphs. I swapped contacts with them and added their account to my family for a week—they signed something I couldn’t understand and sent back a favor token. Aside from the beggar, the portal stop was largely empty, so I just navigated my way to the right door and walked on through.

Hammerwall was one of those families that devoted itself to clearing out the minefields left over from Twenty-Seventh Magic, and from the looks of the place, they’d done good work. Ghostbusters were hauling canisters of goblin and paladin souls to their next of kin, Clouds were straining the nanites out of the water system, and I even saw another Orchard talking to a very angry floating chestplate. The war-torn suburbia was paved clean for nearly half a kilometer, fresh foundations being laid while spectives shoveled rubble through interdimensional gateways. I nodded to the definer watching over the proceedings, showing them my membership sigil. Their strigine eyes flickered over my phone.

“Nonbiological technology and magic needs to be left outside the workzone,” the definer said, ruffling their wings. I set down my phone in the nearby lockers, one of which rattled worryingly, and headed off towards my assigned area. 

It was easy to fall back into the rhythm of work. I had a job to do, and everything else in my life could be safely tucked away on the other side of the portal. I was confident, focused, and collected, which was the only reason why the telepathic screaming didn’t bowl me over the instant I got in range.

The world around me wavered, flickering like a projection on smoke, and I was at the bottom of a dark and starless well. Water drifted upwards in weightless globs around me while my body was crushed into the ground, as if all the gravity in the world had been focused solely on me. 

But I had been here before. I had long since made accord with the insecurities and self-loathing roiling in my own skull; nothing that anyone else could project into my mind could be worse.

The rules around telepathy were different for every spective, but according to the dossier, the war relic’s abilities were closer to a conversation than a lecture. And so I replied with my answer to the pit. Someone else might have told a story of how they got back up, how they joined the wellspring and drifted into the night. I’m sure those people wouldn’t even have been lying. But that was never how my story would end.

I envisioned the bottom of the well cracking under my weight, felt bricks and earth and stone dig into my hilt and blade, and then—all at once—let it go. I fell through where rock bottom should have been, into a tunnel that bored through the heart of the world,  into a space devoid of light and end. With nothing pushing back against me, no matter how much I was weighed down, it felt like nothing more than freefall.

The relic’s mind reeled back from mine, shivering, and the wind picked up around us as we fell. Were we falling faster, or was time itself shifting? The ambiguity was, I suspected, the point that the alien mind of the living steel was attempting to get across. We began to shrink, or move further away from ourselves, our body the only thing for kilometers around—

Except in one place. I wrote them into the center of the world, and though we whipped past them too fast to make out anything but a blur the first time, and the second time, and the third, as we slowed and sank towards the center of this planet, they came into view. Seen through the senses of the blade, they were nothing more than points of light, thinking minds in the dumb leagues of rock, but to me they were Ana and Zem and Sha and all the other people who had fallen down pits of their own, who knew they could never reach the skies they once beheld but found ways to drift along weightlessly anyway.

This was my answer to the question the sword had posed, the plea that was not a plea but a memory, the memory that was not a memory but a metaphor. And though our souls were different enough that we could never share a language expressed through words, as the earth dissolved and left us staring at the distant stars, I felt the blade’s intent as they handed control of this shared dreamscape to me for a moment. Like giving an author a blank page, a painter a fresh canvas, the sword let me reshape that beautiful sky.

What were your stars?

And oh, the tales I could tell this blade. I rewove the constellations into the barest glimpse of who I had been, the simple village I had hailed from time and worlds away, and the day I’d been ripped from my place among the heavens and cast down into the void. And though I’d given up going back long ago, I’d found new stars. Glimmering in the heart and minds of the people I could still devote myself to.

The constellations blurred. The night was always brighter through tears.

Somewhere else, I wiped my eyes. Here, I loosened my hold on the reins, giving them back to the relic.

I showed you my skies. What were yours?

A.N.

This is part of a longer story, check out the rest below if you liked this one!

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Concept: cursed blade rehabilitation center. Destroying a sentient weapon is expensive and highly unethical, so adventurers bring them to the center where highly trained staff can care for them and eventually find them forever homes. It turns out most cursed weapons are products of trauma and are not strictly evil themselves. Some blades turn out to be fiercely protective companions. Others don't even want to be weapons at all, finding joy in simple work like blacksmithing or farming. Most blades just need to be loved.

[jigglyjeon]

god -> jjk

summary: in an attempt to prove that you aren’t a total goody-two-shoes, you commit to a dare that your friends take too far; they leave you in the middle of the woods, wet naked and alone with no light source. in a turn of events, you come face to face with what lurks beneath the depths of the lake at night.

rating: R18+ MATURE, minors please do not interact

genre: fantasy au, smut

wc: 3k+

warnings/tags: siren!jk, readers got fake ass bitch ass friends, brief nipple play, dumbification of reader, allusions to jk having powers?, manipulation, unforgiving jk, isolated jk, straight up just sex, allusions to death?

notes: it’s not really significant to the story 'plot' using that lightly because this is just one big smut scene lol, but it is based in the 60s because i listened to a song from last night in soho (which is a 60s au film) on repeat the entirety of writing this lol

soundtrack: downtown (downtempo) – anya taylor joy

⋆ ࣪.  masterlist  ˖ ࣪⭑ 

“Y/N wouldn’t do it— she’s a total square.”

Your bright smile sinks into a sullen pout. Your friends gathered around the fire are snickering, looking at you with judgement and pity as they whisper behind their hands. You shift on your spot on the log, your nice capris sure to have dirt marks because they were white and the only pair you owned. You look down at your feet clad in your favourite pair of pink flats, feet turned inward as they swirled in the dirt. “I–I’m not! Really, I’m not.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. You’re a peach and that’s all that matters!” Judy pouts dramatically, her tone is whiny as she mocks you, but it doesn't slip by you. “In your pretty little bows, and light colours,” She tugs harshly on your ponytail, which was indeed held up by a ribbon that matched with your shoes. You gasp, snatching your hair over your shoulder with lowered brows.

“Hey, come on Jude, play nice. She’s fragile.” Taehyung snickers, throwing arm over her shoulder to tug her toward him and away from you. You’d deem it as him trying to save you, but he’s the one that called you a square in the first place. Just because you lived in a pink bedroom and wore light colours a lot, and liked ribbons, and still slept with your stuffed animals at night– that was aside the point.

There was more to you than a stereotypical depiction of innocence. Not that you needed their approval, but deep down you wished they were kinder to you. They were the first people to insist on you being their friend when you had started college, and somehow you wound up in situations like this with them; with Taehyung and Judy upright bullying you while Jimin and Jiyoon kiss their asses. All because you were unapologetically – to put it simply – yourself.  

You let your hands fall to your lap, head following with it as you stare down at your fiddling fingers as if it were the most interesting thing you had seen to date. Your thoughts waver for a moment as you wonder what time you’ll be snuggled up in bed; something tells you not any time soon.  

“M’not…” You grumble under your breath, avoiding the eyes all glued to you; limp posture and a frown to boot. You suck in a deep breath, “I’ll do it.” You puff out, shrugging with fake nonchalance “I don’t care.” You stand up, dusting off your dirtied pants and turning on your heel toward the lake nearby.

From behind you, your friends holler at you, following after you as you peel off your clothes the closer you come to the water, leaving a trail of your clothing behind you. Suddenly, your rush of adrenalin blinds you from the fact you’re in nothing but your underwear, and you drown out the cat calling and whistling coming from the men behind you. You take a step back before jumping in without another thought to stop you.

As you suspect, the water is freezing. You the moment your skin collides with the cold temperature. Your friends are howling from above the water as you plummet through the calm waters. You're quick to swim up toward the surface as soon as you regain control over your body. When you come up, you're gasping for air, coughing up water and shivering at the cool air nipping at your wet skin. “Are you all happy now?!” You shout into the darkness, your voice echoing around you. You're wiping at your face frantically, a slight panic coming over you when you struggle to regain focus with the stinging in your eyes. There's no answer.

You’re met with silence.

And your friends are nowhere to be seen.

You swim toward the edge of the lake, your heart thrumming in your chest when you realise, they’ve left you here. “This isn’t funny!” You call out, but the moment you go to push yourself out of the water, something catches your ankle, and you slip back into the water. Your fingertips dig into the dirt as you brace yourself for submersion, but it doesn’t come. There’s a grip on your ankle from below you and you’re too scared to look at what it is. It’s dark and cold and your friends are jerks. They’ll be sorry when you’re dead. You quiver, frozen in place, your grip in the moist dirt beneath your fingers the only thing keeping you above the water. Whatever has you doesn’t tug you hard enough, but it’s wrapped around your ankle snug.

Then you feel it.

It bumps against the back of your thigh. You gasp loudly, your fingernails drag through the dirt when it pulls you back, slow, antagonising— like it’s playing with its’ food.

“Guys, please!” You cry, tears welling up in your eyes, “H-help–” You screech when your body is pulled back into the water, gasping for a breath and squeezing your eyes shut as you prepare for the water to consume you once again. It doesn’t come. It feels a lot like two hands that grab at your waist, stationing you up so just your head is above water.

There's a scale-y texture grazes your skin below, wrapping around your legs to stop your legs from kicking. You forget how to breathe when bubbles bloom in the water in front of you. Your eyes are wide, given no choice but to watch when the culprit emerges from the water to reveal itself. Serpent eyes, dark and serene bore into yours the moment they’re visible. Higher, he comes; a boy – a man – there’s scales scattered over his skin, his temples and cheek bones adorned in blue and purple hues, iridescent and glistening in the moon’s light. His wet waves drape flat over his forehead that is, for the most part, match the dark of his eyes.

When his face is level with yours, he keeps his distance at first. He tilts his head forward, inspecting yours the same way you did his before drawing back. He has an entire grip on you still, hands falling slowly to your hips, a slimy and scaley appendage tightening around your bound legs. It pulls you closer to him, strong and sure. “I thought humans were intelligent,” His voice slips past his lips like silk, like he’s whispering a gentle song to lull you into slumber. “Disrupting my waters when the moon is bright, big ang full is a foolish thing, you know?”

He spoke to you in your language as if it were his first, and only. His words were clear; he dragged them out so tenderly in a way that makes you blink heavily into his eyes. You can’t think, you’re heaving, and your panic slows down steadily, and a sense of safety washes over you. He removes one hand from your body, raising it from the water to reveal more of his scales, dancing up his arm in harmony with the rest of them, stopping just about his shoulder. His fingers push your heavy locks behind your shoulder, and he hums lightly. Approval? Curiosity? You can’t find it in you to overthink the details of his actions. “It’s been so long,” He sighs longingly, “It’s been so lonely.” The part of him those locks against your legs pulls away, his warmth removed from you. You don’t mean to whine at the loss. He takes your frozen arms, moves you gentle through the water, further away from recognisable terrains, and the place that whence you came. Against your instincts you let him take you, the instinct that is swallowed whole by a sense of obedience. Don’t fight him, this voice tells you, he was powerful.

He places your hands to rest against the new rocky terrain, and you watch him closely as he pushes himself out of the water. The vision of him only confirmed your stuttering thoughts. A thick, large tail, a wide thin at the end that twitches beside you. It brushes lightly against your shoulder when it dips in and out of the water, like it longs to be consumed by it.

The same beautiful patterns and colours that litter his skin is the entirety of his tale, the place when his torso ends and tail begins melded perfectly, fading naturally into one another. This couldn’t be a prank, nor a dream, because when your hand moves on its own accord to touch it, it feels far too real to be fake.

The creature leans back with nonchalance; the side of his lips upturned with a knowingness as you admire him in all his unique beauty. He rests his palms behind to keep himself upright so he can watch as your fingertips explore him. “Come, pet.” It’s demanding, but it’s nurturing in a way that makes you obey. You come out of the water, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips that were growing drier from being out of his natural habitat. He drags himself further up the terrain, removing himself from the water fully. You crawl towards him wantonly, pupils blown out as you chase his touch again. He laughs with a mockery to the tone, and his eyes flickering over your exposed body in a hunger that had long been dormant. Like he had told you, he had been alone for the majority of his life. Protecting— guarding the home in which he had grown accustomed.

One of your breasts has spilt on of your bra, the material sopping and soaked and heavy, growing slightly see through as your underwear had. White cotton, leaving not much to the imagination. A shame, really. He liked a good chase, but the effect he had on a human hadn’t allowed that of them— his spellbound eyes and regal prose that sang to them in dangerous hymns.  

He reaches for your upper arm, his grip sure but not threatening. He uses your weight to pull him closer to you, “What do they call you, little human?” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your cheek just by your ear. Your chest moves rapidly, heavy breaths harmonising with his. He riles you up and the closer contact, and your reaction riles up his growing desire. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have you— not when you were needier than most.

“Y/N” You mumble in your trance-like state, your eyes rolling back when he noses at your jaw, and he inhales when he feels your blood thump against your neck. His hands dance over your skin, hooking his fingers in the middle of your bra, pulling it forward. He furrows his brows when it snaps back against your skin, you yelp at the slight impact. He looks down at the contraption that gets in his way, using his other hand to snap the wire in half with ease. He roughly tugs it off your body, tossing it away with frustration that you would have found cute if you hadn’t been so entranced with him.

His hands find your skin again, a hand sliding to your lower back to pull you closer, dipping his head to kiss on your collarbones with feather light lips. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He muffles against your skin, you look down at him, your fingers taking purchase in his waves, still damp but softer to touch now that the air has dried it more. Your fingernails massage gentle into his scalp, looking up at you when he flickers his tongue out against your already hardened nipple. You struggle to keep your eyes open, “Do you want me, Y/N?” He asks with a cheek to his features, wrapping his lip around the sensitive bud to suck gently, swirling his tongue against it.

You throw your head back, arching your back as you push your chest further into his face. He releases your nipple, another gentle kiss to your chest when he shuffles his heavy weight toward you slightly. “What are you?” You keen, eyes watery with need, your hand sliding from his hair, down his shoulder, over his scales. He was strangely warm for a creature submerged by cold depths. He doesn’t answer you, doesn’t react— he just pulls you into a kiss that takes your breath away.

Deep down you knew what he could be. You’ve heard the fairytale many a time, in fact, it was one of your mother’s favourites; it was the story she read you on sleepless nights, because it was also the one that ensured you could rest your eyes with a smile on your face. A fair maiden who wished to grow legs, to experience life above water, torn between two worlds. In some ways you felt as if you could relate to her; she longed to be part of something, unsure of where she truly belonged. Right now, you were exactly where you wanted to be, but there’s an emotional clawing in the pits of your stomach that you can’t put your finger on.

You knew of two things: mermaids were benevolent, while sirens were vindictive and malicious. You can’t decipher the truth when you’re being dragged deeper into the pits of his stare.

He kisses you like he’s eating away at your sanity, the thoughts that fight to come to the surface and snap you back into reality. You don’t notice the way his tail splits in two, how he groans heavily against your slips, hardening the kiss as his tail disappears, in its place now a pair of legs. He endures the seething pain that shoots through him, only for a moment, all in turn for a night of pleasure.

A night of being wanted— a night in which he was no longer alone.

How selfish of him.

When he pulls away, you look down at his new form, bare but just as strong. He examines himself too, he hadn’t seen himself like this in years, not since the last time he had selfishly consumed the presence of someone human. That was far too long ago now, and he was much younger— naïve, even. You don’t dwell on it for too long, not when his cock is long, hard and twitching against his abdomen like that. His thighs twitch under your stare, a droplet of your saliva slips past your parted lips and dripples down your chin. His fingers dip beneath your chin forcing your gaze back to his face. “You can have me, little human.” He leans forward, his tongue darting out to collect what secretes from your mouth. Up your neck, licking over your lips, kissing you briefly. “You will have me.”

He was smug and sure, evident in his slowly growing grin. It’s sinister, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but in your state of mind you take it as a formal invitation for you to climb on top of him. Your palms shake against his chest, knees digging into the hard ground. Your damp, covered heat rocks against his cock, and he hisses at the feeling, intense and so forgotten it was nearly foreign to him. His hands soothe up your back, and you whimper. He coos; your pouty lips endearing to him. “What is it, my pet?”

“Aches–” you shudder, his attention turned to your breasts, each hand closing around the perky mounds, fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples.

“What aches, dear girl?” He asks, rubbing his thumbs over them. You stare down at him with lowered brows, making him click his tongue. “So dumb.” He chuckles, “You long for me this much?”

He guides your back against the ground, switching your positions. He tugs your underwear down your legs, patiently this time, inhaling your scent like a drug, consuming your desperation like it was his lifeline.

Because the more emotions you fed him, the longer he was able to roam this earth.

He ruts his hardness against your slick, and he growls because your pussy is so soaked, reminiscent of a place where he belonged, which has him longing for more of it—submersion. He laughs against your neck, prodding it at your entrance messily, his eagerness evident in his hurried movements. He pushes into you, wincing at tightness of your walls, his teeth baring to drag lightly against your throat. Your jaw falls slack, fingers digging into his hard biceps that tense when you clench around his thickness. “M-my God…” You keen, baring more of your throat for him to lick and suck upon, his slow thrusts are agonising but the indulging your fluttering hole that takes him like you were made for him. “Oh my God!”

He feeds off your praise, an expression of pleasure or not. Perhaps he was a God; God of the waters, with power to control the minds of unsuspecting victims. The thrill of the hunt, to kill— to fuck. Jungkook was a God in his own rite: a seeker of feelings, who stole the light from the eyes of those full of life in turn for power and strength.

He had not a benevolent bone in his body.

The wet sounds of him pulling in and out of you leaves him ravenous, picking up his pace, hardening the force of his hips. You arch up to meet his thrusts, frantic to feel more of him. Your stickiness drips all over your thighs, it transfers onto his thighs, relishing at the liquids you cover him in. He pushes your legs back, hands beneath your knees, head falling with eyes screwed shut in concentration. His resolve falters when you squeeze yourself around him, cry out for him to fuck you harder, faster, beg him to give you more when he was giving you all he had.

“Humans are so fucking selfish, fuck.” He seethes, “Be quiet.” He huffs, slowing his hips, kissing you harshly, his tongue wrestling yours, pushing down on it in hopes to silence your noise. A hand slides up your body, squeezing at your breast, until he reaches your throat, and tightens his fingers so much you so that you have to fight for a breath. He pistons into you quickly, growling and grunting as he uses your cunt how he pleases. He can’t think, he moans loudly against your mouth when he can feel it rising within him. Then it snaps.

He cums harshly into your cunt, and you cry out, sobbing when he pulls his mouth off yours. Your cries are caught in his grasp, coming out in small squeaks as you stare up at him with damp eyes, glistening with a worship that sates him nicely. Your legs ache, but he pushes down on your thighs as he empties himself inside you, twitching and throbbing against your walls so harshly it makes you cum soon after. His weight falls against you, and you wheeze. Not from the sheer mass of him, but because you feel sucked dry. “My god…” You whine tiredly.

He hums in approval, resting against you, listening to slow of your heartbeat. It’s beautiful, he thinks, a welcomed rhythm to his greedy ears. Your eyes are closed, pacified in the sleep that weighs on you after being used. He looks at your face just for a moment longer, fingers tracing your soft features, humming a haunting melody as you rest beneath him. When he’s satisfied, sated in his endeavours. He lifts himself off your limp body, your chest rising and falling so peacefully. It’s a pretty sight; he admits it to be.

Quietly, he sits himself down at the water’s edge, looking over his shoulder at you as he falls back into his, patiently awaiting his return.

The night is quiet, no chirping of the crickets, no hooting of the howls, no breeze that howls. The water is the only thing that remains alive, its’ soft babbling and your quiet breaths melding into one amidst the silence of the night. The harmony of the moment is disturbed, a hand grasping at your ankle, dragging you under.

The night breathes on without you.

©jigglyjeon 2025 all rights reserved

[silkensago]

drive me crazy!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ bumblebee x reader. fluff. ⭑ bee keeps subconsciously playing love songs on the radio the moment you get in his shotgun and can’t stop.

Bumblebee loves picking you up from campus.

You know this not because he’s ever said it, but because every time you step out of class, he’s already there, idling at the curb like he’s been waiting the whole day. Bright sunflower yellow paint gleaming in the sun, windows down just enough to look cool, and parked at the exact angle that shows off his best side.

You hop in with a smothered giggle at the sight and pat his hood everytime before you do.

And every time, a little crowd forms. Phones come out. Someone always whistles. Someone else always says something like “That Camaro suits you so much” or “Man, he’s gorgeous” and Bee, without fail, revs once. Okay, a few times. Not obnoxiously. Just proud in a cute way.

You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him tilt his mirrors to catch your reaction.

He doesn’t even try to hide it anymore.

Today, though, the ride is quiet. Strangely so.

He hasn’t blasted any music yet—not even the usual over-the-top 90s throwbacks he loves to pretend are ironic. There’s only the low hum of the A/C and the faint creak of the seatbelt as you click in.

You frown slightly, leaning back against cushy leather of the shotgun. “Bee, can you turn some music on?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. The cabin feels like it’s holding its breath.

Then, without warning, the vents shift—and heat pours in like someone just cracked open the sun.

“Bee!”

He lets out a frantic series of beeps and dials the temperature back down.

Cool air spills across your arms. You sigh in relief. Okay, something’s definitely off.

The windshield wipers suddenly kick in.

It hasn’t rained in days.

You glance over at the dash. “What is going on with you today?”

Gently, you rest your hand on the smooth surface. Pat it twice. You’ve done it before—when he’s nervous, or glitchy, or just needs reassurance. You don’t know if it actually does anything, but he always responds like it does.

“Are you okay?” you ask, softer now. “Should I call Ratchet? You’ve been weird since I got in. I can just walk—”

A rapid, indignant string of beeps cuts you off.

“Okay, okay. I won’t walk.” You grin, softening. “I’ll stay here with you.”

A couple of quick chirps follow.

Then, a pause. As if hesitating, the stereo finally crackles on.

The first song starts.

It’s something slow. Something sweet. With strings in the background and lyrics dripping like honey. The kind of song you only hear during the credits of a romcom that ends in a kiss.

A soft croon fills the car. Old, warm, unmistakable.

“Wise men say… only fools rush in…”

You blink. “Wait. Is that—Elvis?”

The song suddenly skips like it’s been snatched mid-note, and suddenly the Cardigans are playing instead, bright and pleading, “Love me, love me, say that you love me…”

You raise an eyebrow. “Bee.”

Panic. Another skip.

“Come right on me… I mean camaraderie…”

“Oh my gosh,” you giggle breathlessly, sinking back into the seat. You can’t help it. “Seriously?!”

Flustered, there’s only desperate, pleading beeps from him. Like he’s telling you it’s out of his control.

You stare at the speakers. “Are you—are you stuck on a love songs playlist right now?”

He beeps once again, defensive.

The volume lowers like he’s giving up. Or accepting his fate.

You glance over, and that’s when you notice it: the little honeypot charm hanging from his rearview mirror—the one you made him a few weeks ago, out of clay and cheap ribbon—is starting to droop. The heat from all his internal scrambling must’ve softened it.

“Bee—your charm!”

He lets out a pitiful whine.

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, reaching over to gently unhook it before it melts completely. “I’ll make you a new one. A better one.”

A chirp. The one he only makes when he’s really, really happy.

You smirk, not even bothering to hide it. “Love you too, Bee.”

Everything freezes for half a second. The lights on his dash flicker, the speakers stutter, and he lets out a high-pitched wheep! that sounds suspiciously like a system overload.

You jolt forward slightly as the car lurches.

He nearly swerves into a bush.

“Bee!!”

He rights the steering wheel, beep-beep-beeping something that sounds very much like I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine while you’re laughing so hard it makes your eyes sting.

Another beep. You okay? It’s sheepish. Embarrassed. He’s terribly endearing, and you’re weak for it.

“I’m okay.” You shake your head, still smiling as you reach over to pat the dash again. “You’re such a dork.”

His engine purrs.

[chanelgrll]

Could you please do Ronin taking care of a reader who caught the flu or something similar (just sick!reader in general haha)?? I love your works and how closely you write Ronin to the source material! <3

A/N: aaaaa thank you so much!!! <3

You’re Breathing Wrong (But I Guess I’ll Let It Slide)

You didn't remember falling asleep on the couch.

You definitely didn't remember Ronin carrying you to bed, though the ache in your bones told you you'd been moved, maybe a few times as he fussed with blankets and temperature controls you vaguely registered as too hot, then too cold, then too everything.

You wake again to the clink of something ceramic and a muffled curse. "Shit."

You try to respond but your throat makes a noise between a whimper and a dying animal. You settle for blinking at him again. He sighs.

Fifteen minutes later, you're still horizontal and thoroughly miserable, but now you’ve got a glass of water, two cold meds, a damp towel on your forehead, and, possibly the most shocking part of all, a bowl of instant noodles. The good kind, too. Not the ones you bought in bulk for emergencies, but the ones Ronin always hides in the back of the cabinet like a dragon hoarding spicy treasure.

“You’re giving me your good ramen?” you croak, voice rasping against your sore throat.

He shrugs, dropping onto the armchair like his joints are optional. “Figured it’d be your last meal.”

You snort, and then immediately regret it as it turns into a coughing fit. Ronin glances over, eyebrows drawn.

“Christ. You sound like a haunted accordion.”

You wheeze out a laugh anyway. He looks half-proud of the line.

Eventually, you manage to slurp down some broth and nibble a few noodles, though you don’t get far before your arms feel too heavy to lift the bowl. Ronin’s watching from across the room, one foot propped up on the coffee table, arms crossed.

“You’re doing that thing,” you mutter between sips.

“What thing?”

“The… looking at me like I’m about to break thing.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says, voice dry. “I’m just trying to figure out whether I should take out your enemies while you’re down or let them have a sporting chance.”

A wheezy laugh escapes you before it turns into a cough, your whole body curling up with the force of it. He’s there instantly, one hand at your back, the other grabbing tissues and lifting the soup out of splash range.

“Okay, okay—slow down. Jesus. You’re like a dying ferret.”

You try to flip him off. Your hand barely twitches.

“Wow. Powerful.” He adjusts the cloth on your forehead again with unexpected gentleness. “Don’t get up. Drink this.” He puts a cup of water to your mouth, and helps you drink it. He then brushes the hair out of your eyes with the back of his hand, and presses the thermometer under your tongue. He doesn’t say anything when he sees the number, but his frown deepens. You know what he’s thinking.

“I’ll live,” you mumble.

Ronin snorts. “Don’t jinx it. I already promised your ghost I’d keep the apartment clean.”

You let your eyes flutter shut, the warmth of his hand at your temple enough to lull you halfway into sleep again. But then you feel him shift. Pull away. You reach out.

Your hand finds the hem of his jacket and tugs, weak and awkward. He stills.

“…Stay,” you whisper.

There’s a long pause. He’s quiet for so long you think maybe he didn’t hear you—or that he’s going to say something sarcastic—but then you feel the mattress shift.

He climbs in next to you, above the covers, just close enough that your knees bump. You feel the weight of his arm settle beside your head. Not touching you directly—he’s always careful like that, especially when you’re vulnerable—but he’s close. Tangible. Warm in a way that doesn’t suffocate.

“…This doesn’t mean I want your germs,” he mutters.

You make a small, amused noise.

“You always act like you’re so tough,” you murmur. “But you made me soup.”

“Shut up.”

“You tucked me in.”

“Shut up.”

You smile.

“Bet you even kissed my forehead while I was asleep.”

His hand twitches like he’s deciding whether to shove you off the bed. You grin wider. You know you're right.

“I should’ve let you marinate in fever dreams,” he grumbles. “Let you hallucinate your way through the week.”

“You love me,” you whisper sleepily, triumphant.

He doesn’t say anything. You drift in and out of sleep after that, fever dragging you under and shaking you around like a snow globe. Sometimes you dream. Sometimes you just hallucinate that Ronin is talking to you in the form of a large crow on the windowsill. But between the blurs of light and sound, there are moments. Moments of warmth and quiet.

Ronin adjusting the blanket over your shoulders. Picking up the tissues you dropped. Sitting on the floor beside the couch, back against the armrest, humming low under his breath. Not music. Just something to fill the silence. At one point, when the sun’s gone down and you’re too weak to hold a glass on your own, he holds it to your lips without a word and waits until you finish drinking.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” he mutters afterward.

Your lips curve in a faint smile. “Tell them what?”

“That I’m not letting you die horribly.”

“I’d never snitch,” you whisper.

He grunts. “Better not. I’ve got a reputation.” The next morning, you're barely any better, but you wake up tucked under Ronin’s arm. You’re pretty sure he ended up there by accident. His fingers twitch when you stir, like they’re unsure whether to withdraw or cling harder. His mouth moves like he wants to complain but can’t find the energy to do it.

“You’re still breathing,” he mumbles.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Don’t be.” He squeezes you briefly, like a secret. “I don’t think I could make good noodles again if you weren’t around to call me dramatic.”

You hum. “You are dramatic.”

“Shut up and die quieter.”

But he doesn’t let go.

And you don’t die.

[dxmedstudent]

I 100% buy that it's Right Wing propaganda. One thing I hate about the "birth control is all bad" crowd is they act like having side effects or not working for everyone is somehow special and unique to birth control.

Like. No. Pretty much every medication has some potential side effects. Some are more common than others. Some medications may have more severe risks. But this is just an inherent risk that comes with taking anything - except it's USUALLY overall better to take the medication than go without.

There's this weird trend to tell people to come off BC just to 'rest their body', but honestly? Unless you're about to try for a baby there's really no need. If it's working for you, and the side effects are manageable for you, then its cool. Coming off hormonal BC if you like getting dick...without rigorously using condoms every single time WILL lead to pregnancy for over 80% of people, within a year. Each year that they have unprotected sex.

Maybe one day we'll be able to do pharmacogenetic testing or pharmacogenomic testing on a wide scale and work out which blood blood pressure medication or antidepressant or BC will work best for a patient - I've been hoping for this since my undergrad biomedicine days. But until then all we have is experience and trial and error and patience - and listening to patients, to try to work out what will work best for them. And it's imperfect, and sometimes clinicians can be AHs. But overall most of the time people are trying to do the right thing for people.

The side effects of BC are VERY similar to those of pregnancy - except pregnancy has higher risks overall. And for most people it's OK. For some people it's great - I didn't love my hair thinning or having the odd irregular bleed on the implant but I DID love not having really heavy or painful periods, my endo and fibroids improving, and not having to worry about a pregnancy at the wrong time. It's a very important treatment for a lot of us with conditions affecting our uterus, ovaries, and body outside of that. People demonise BC as if it isn't potentially life saving treatment for some of us, as well as something that improves QOL for a lot of us.

Some people truly are unlucky and don't do well with any hormonal BC, and that sucks, this is not to discount their pain - I'm very much in favour of more BC options for testicle-havers, letting people get their tubes tied early whatever their gonads, and people inventing even more forms of BC. The fact that they aren't perfect or risk free treatments isn't a reason that everyone should come off them, or that they should be demonised. There are lots of different ones to try from, most people can find something that works for them. We even have websites that will try to work out the ones most likely to work for you.

And unfortunately, "natural alternatives" just aren't there yet. The copper IUD is great for some people but obviously not the right choice for everyone - particularly if they already have painful or heavy periods as they can often make that worse.

The fertility awareness method (trying to avoid having sex during your fertile time) isn't great for anyone with an irregular cycle or who isn't also tracking their LH (peeing on a stick for at least week every month) or their basal body temperature (which you need to track every day) and cerical mucus (how much do you like staring at vaginal seretions? you'll be seeing them a lot). And its fail rate with typical use is similar to withdrawal, making around 1/5 of couples into parents for each year it is used. If combined with condoms and done consistently it CAN be reasonably effective for some people whilst they get experienced at it, but multiple people have sued period tracking apps for false claims that they can reliably help you prevent pregnancy.

Condoms are OK (typical fail rate of 15% in a year) but for some of us that doesn't feel reliable enough on its own - and you're allowed to combine non-hormonal contraceptives with other non hormonal options or a hormonal option.

But we should be extremely suspicious of anyone telling us to detox from BC as if hormones are a toxin. What are their qualifications? Why are they telling us this? What is their agenda? Are they the same people whining about the crashing birth rate and how we should all be tradwives? Why are we listening to them over actual clinicians? Because they are almost always also anti-choice and looking to control your body and tell you how to live your life.

In the UK where I work as a doctor, we noticed an uptick in pregnancies around the time that 'BC is unnatural, cleanse your body of BC to balance your hormones" became a thing. And whilst on an individual level this probably led to as lot of stress for the people who fell for the hype, at least abortion remains generally readily available via MSI, NUPAS and BPAS - I imagine the effect in places where abortion has been criminalised could potentially be catastrophic. I genuinely think this trend will (and almost certainly already HAS) led to more abortions and more unwanted pregnancies.

The funniest part of the “ummmm actually ☝️🤓 birth control can be REALLY bad for you” responses on my ‘hey I think the current health fad demonization of hormonal birth control is right wing propaganda’ post is that I can’t take hormonal birth control. It reacts badly with my body’s chemistry. But I am wise enough to understand that it is a lifesaving medication for many people and encouraging people to get off birth control if it is working for them with no adverse reactions is bad. Birth control is bad for me and it can have terrible side effects but the potential of pregnancy and periods are worse for many people.

[hy6erion]

hihihii i have a request ‼️

would u be able to do jayce x fem!reader in an acting au which ended up falling in love with eachother on set?

it can be mainly fluff and angst hut if u wanna add smut, go for it 😻

no retakes — jayce talis x reader

synopsis: two actors. one on-screen romance. off camera, the lines blur — and pretending stops feeling like acting

cw: fem! reader, explicit (only one scene), modern au / actor au, slight angst

The studio lights were too bright for ten in the morning. You squinted as you stepped onto the mock set: a sparsely furnished loft apartment designed for the chemistry test. Your heels clicked sharply on the faux hardwood floor, a sound swallowed quickly by the vastness of the soundstage.

Your palms were damp despite the temperature-controlled room. Not from the lights. From the fact that somewhere in this massive studio, Jayce Talis was waiting.

You hadn’t met him yet—at least not properly. Sure, you’d seen him on magazine covers, watched him in interviews where he flashed that disarming grin and ran a hand through his hair like he didn’t know what he was doing to the viewers. You’d watched all of his movies —the films that had launched him into near-untouchable stardom.

You were the newcomer. “Fresh face,” they called you. Your agent had gotten you this audition with gritted teeth and a warning: “Don’t screw this up.”

The door opened and your breath stalled.

Jayce Talis walked in like he belonged in every room he entered. Tall, broad-shouldered, that dark caramel hair a little messier than it looked on billboards. His eyes scanned the space, then landed on you—and something in his expression shifted, just a flicker. Interest? Appraisal?

“Hey” he said, with a half-smile. “You must be…” He trailed off, waiting.

You gave your name and to your surprise, he repeated it softly, like he was tasting it.

“I’m Jayce” he added unnecessarily, sticking out a hand.

You hesitated just a beat before taking it. His grip was warm, firm. You felt the calluses on his fingers—he did his own stunt training, you’d read.

“Ready to fake fall in love?” he teased lightly, but you caught the note beneath it. Tiredness, maybe. A touch of weariness that only those who lived too long in the public eye wore like perfume.

“I’m better at the falling part than the fake” you replied before you could stop yourself.

Jayce blinked. Then laughed—a short, surprised sound that seemed to echo inside your chest.

You were in trouble.

⸻

Two months into filming, your days were defined by repetition and your nights by insomnia.

Jayce was kind. Infuriatingly so. Thoughtful. Smart. Always offering you his jacket between takes when it got cold, or pulling your chair into the shade during outdoor shoots. He made you laugh, which was unfair, because you’d made a strict rule not to fall for him.

It wasn’t just the fact that he was beautiful—he was, painfully so—but he was complicated. There was a wall behind his charm, behind that dimpled smile. And you were starting to catch glimpses of what laid beneath it.

You learned how he liked his coffee (two sugars, oat milk, one shot of espresso), how he hated small talk and adored old movies. He knew you hummed when you read scripts and that you curled your fingers into your palm when you were nervous. Neither of you talked about what that meant.

One night, after a particularly emotional scene, you found him outside the trailers, alone, something was clawing at him from the inside out.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

He didn’t look at you. “Sometimes I forget who I’m supposed to be. The character. The guy in the interview. The real me. It’s… exhausting.”

You didn’t speak. Just walked over and sat beside him.

That night, you didn’t go back to your trailer until three a.m.

Nothing happened. And yet, everything did.

⸻

The script called for a kiss.

You’d rehearsed it. Talked through it. Joked about it.

But when the cameras rolled and Jayce stepped closer, your pulse thundered in your ears. His hand found your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin and your breath caught as his lips hovered over yours, just for a second.

It wasn’t acting.

You could feel it.

So could he.

The kiss was soft. Lingering. The kind of thing people wrote songs about. And when the director yelled “Cut!” no one moved for several seconds.

Jayce’s eyes stayed locked on yours, his hand still cupping your cheek like he’d forgotten it was for the scene.

Your heart was doing backflips. And your brain was screaming warnings.

⸻

Things got weird after that.

Jayce pulled back.

He still smiled, still joked, but there was a carefulness to it now. A retreat. And you hated that it hurt.

One night, you knocked on his trailer door. He opened it, shirtless, towel around his neck from a shower, hair damp.

Bad idea.

“Talk to me” you said.

“There’s nothing to talk about” he replied, too quickly.

You stepped inside anyway. Shut the door behind you.

“I felt something. You did too.”

Jayce looked at you for a long, loaded second. Then he muttered, “You don’t want to feel anything for someone like me.”

You took a breath. “Let me decide that.”

His jaw clenched.

Then, before either of you could second-guess it, he crossed the space between you and kissed you. Hard. Desperate.

Clothes didn’t fly. It wasn’t that kind of moment. His hands were on your face like you were something precious. Your fingers tangled in his damp hair. There was heat, yes, but more than that, there was longing. Like two people drowning and the only air was each other.

When you pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“I’m scared” he admitted. “I’ve never felt like this.”

⸻

The kiss didn’t fix things.

The next day on set, you could feel the difference in the air — an almost unbearable tension. Not the kind that made scenes better, more electric, but the kind that made you overthink every glance, every moment you weren’t touching him.

Jayce avoided you.

Not obviously. He was too professional for that. But the little things — standing a few feet too far away, not holding eye contact quite as long — you noticed. And it made your chest ache.

You cornered him one night in the hallway of the studio, the sound of rolling dollies and shouting crew echoing behind you.

“Are you pretending last night didn’t happen?” you asked.

Jayce didn’t look at you, jaw tight. “I’m not pretending. I’m trying not to fuck up the only thing that’s felt good in a long time.”

That silenced you.

He ran a hand through his hair, voice softer now. “I want you. I do. But the moment this gets out, they’ll twist it. They’ll make it about PR, about headlines, about the movie. I don’t want you to be my ‘rumored co-star’ or my ‘off-screen love interest.’ I want you to be real.”

“And what if I already am?”

His head turned. Finally, his eyes found yours — and they were raw. Wounded. Hopeful.

“Then I’m already in deeper than I meant to be.”

You stepped closer. “Good. Because I don’t want safe, Jayce. I don’t want fake. I want you. The messy, exhausted, guarded version. I want the man who watches ‘Casablanca’ like it’s a religion. I want the one who kissed me like he forgot we were pretending.”

The space between you collapsed in an instant.

⸻

His hotel room was a quiet kind of intimate. Dim light spilled across the bed, the city humming just beyond the windows. Jayce kissed you like he was trying to memorize you — slow, reverent, with both hands on your face like he was grounding himself.

Clothes came off in pieces, in pauses — fingers brushing skin, whispered curses, the kind of trembling touches that spoke more than words could. His mouth found your collarbone, your jaw, your throat. Every kiss was a confession: I need you, I want you, I’m terrified of this.

He undressed you like he was unwrapping something precious.

You pulled him down with you onto the sheets, your nails dragging down his back as he hovered above, breathless.

It wasn’t rushed.

It was slow and aching and filled with stolen glances, whispered names. His hands didn’t just hold you — they worshipped you. When he finally slid into you, the breath he let out was ragged, a moan you swallowed with your mouth.

He didn’t speak much — just your name, over and over again, like it was the only thing anchoring him.

And when it was over, he held you against his chest like he was afraid you’d vanish.

You stayed like that until morning.

⸻

The movie dropped six months later.

Red carpets. Flashing lights. Your hand in his.

By then, the press had guessed everything — and you didn’t care anymore.

Jayce leaned down during a reporter’s question and whispered into your ear, “Still better at the falling part?”

You turned to him with a grin. “Better at the staying.”

[tobiasdrake]

Digimon Adventure 02x30 - The Dark Ultimate, BlackWarGreymon / Ultimate Anti-Hero

Previously on Digimon Adventure: The mysterious woman with strange powers shockingly turned out to be a Digimon! It's okay though because Miyako kicked her ass in a DJ battle. But then her human partner heretofore never seen or mentioned shockingly turned out to be a Digimon!

Last episode, the Dub Narrator promised us a decisive answer to this question: "Will the DigiDestined destroy all the Control Spires before Arukenimon gets her evil hands on them?"

That's a bold promise to make. Will this be the very last episode of us fighting over Dark Towers/Control Spires? Or is the Dub Narrator talking from his ass again? Let's dig in.

We open on Arachnemon taking a depression bath on the edge of a cliff, mourning the loss of her dignity as an intimidating foe.

In the distance, Mummymon faintly calls out,

Mummymon: How's the temperature? Arachnemon: ...

But Arachnemon is lost in her own mind. She flashes back on her humiliating defeat in the dining room last episode. She remembers getting shot by Paildramon, peppered by Miyako and Shurimon, and bug sprayed by Digmon.

Arachnemon: Chosen Children....

Having failed to get an answer, Mummymon shows up in the car. He gets out and hobbles over with his cane towards the bathtub.

Mummymon: (slowly and clearly) How's the temperature, Arachnemon? Arachnemon: ...

Still ignoring him, Arachnemon flashes back on the electrical wires and follow-up Desperado Blaster shots from Paildramon.

Finally, Mummymon reaches the edge of the tub.

Mummymon: How's the temperature? Arachnemon: ...

And still she gives him no response.

In the dub, Arukenimon is much more verbose.

Arukenimon: Those Digi-Brats make me so tense! I've got to try to relax. Maybe I should think happy thoughts! Let's see... Evil spells! Crushing my enemies! More Control Spires! Less DigiDestined! Ugh, I can't keep those kids out of my head! How hard can it be to get rid of them!? Where did I go wrong!? (First flashback, then Mummymon arrives) Mummymon: Oh, there you are. Arukenimon: (sigh) Usually a bubble bath relaxes me. Not this time. Ugh.... Mummymon: Arukenimon... A rather unusual place for a tub, don't you think? Well, I guess all you have to do is build the rest of the house around it! Ohohoho! (Second flashback) Kari: Let's do it! T.K.: Let's go get her! (Kari and T.K. electrocute Arukenimon) Davis: You're next! Paildramon: DESPERADO BLASTER!!! (Paildramon shoots Arukenimon, then end of flashback) Mummymon: Hellooo~ooo?

She doesn't talk over the flashbacks but they do fill the flashbacks with voice lines and sound effects. As usual, the flashbacks play out silently in the original.

Also, as usual, the dialogue in the dub's flashback is wrong. Kari and T.K. actually quipped in that scene; T.K. asked how Arukenimon's hair was and Kari replied, "It needs some work." Davis also said "Now it's your turn" instead of "You're next" which is the same sentiment but different words.

Ken also had a line but the animation skipped him so the dub can't be faulted for that. Arachnemon/Arukenimon doesn't give a shit about what he has to say.

Having tried and failed multiple times to get a reaction from Arachnemon, Mummymon gives it one last shot.

Success!

Mummymon: Come one, say something....

That turns out to be one interruption too much. Arachnemon erupts from the tub.

Arachnemon: I HAVE A LOT ON MY MIND!!!

She grabs him by either his throat or collar, it's hard to make out, and then flings him into the car so hard the car spins around and rolls. The impact also sets off the horn, which blares continuously after the car comes to a stop, implying that Mummymon is somehow pressing it down despite being on the hood.

Breathing heavily, Arachnemon fumes for five seconds with the horn in the background before screaming at it too.

Arachnemon: SHUT UP!!!

Don't take it personally, car horn. She's under a lot of stress right now. She didn't mean it. You're fine. Nonetheless, the car horn abates and Arachnemon calms down to a bubbling simmer.

Arachnemon: (wrathful) Chosen Children....

She's having a bad day.

In the dub:

Mummymon: That sure does look comfortable. I haven't had a bath like that in years. Do you think that I could, uh-- Arukenimon: Rrrrrgh! (Arukenimon jolts up from the bath) Arukenimon: Would you be quiet!? Can't you see I'm trying to concentrate!? Those kids are destroying my supply of Control Spires!

The dub cuts out the entire sequence of Arachnemon throwing Mummymon into the car and the subsequent car horn bit. They go straight to her calming down.

Arukenimon: Hmm... I'll just have to work faster. Muwahahahaha! Mummymon: Um, in the meantime, mind if I take a dip?

I mean, the dub spared you from your painful fate so I guess you might as well.

Anyways, let's check in with the Chosen Children. What are they up to?

Yeah, that makes sense.

The next fifty seconds are character establishment. A Digimon calls an attack, a Dark Tower comes down, their Partner cheers for them, and we cycle to the next.

Fladramon: FIRE ROCKET!!! (Smash) Daisuke: Good work! Shurimon: KUSANAGI!!! (Smash) Miyako: So cool! Digmon: BIG CRACK!!! (Smash) Iori: That's it! Pegasmon: SHOOTING STAR!!! (Smash) Takeru: Hooray! Nefertimon: ROSETTA STONE!!! (Smash) Hikari: Looking good! Stingmon: SPIKING FINISH!!! (Smash) Ken: ...

Ken says nothing; He just looks on with approval, arms folded.

Only two things really stand out as noteworthy. One is that Hikari takes a photo of Nefertimon looking awesome; It's always a treat when we get to see her use that camera around her neck. The other is that, for the first time in the series, Ken is just here. He's destroying Towers with us, rather than off on his own doing it himself.

In the dub:

Flamedramon: FIRE ROCKET!!! (Smash) Davis: Way to go! Shurimon: DOUBLE STAR!!! (Smash) Yolei: Awesome! Digmon: ROCK CRACKIN'!!! (Smash) Cody: Digmon, nice job! Pegasusmon: SHOOTING STARS!!! (Smash) T.K.: Thattaboy! Nefertimon: ROSETTA STONE!!! (Smash) Kari: Say cheese, please! Stingmon: SPIKING STRIKE!!! (Smash) Ken: I can't believe it. We're actually making progress!

The dub waits until the camera's off Ken and onto a wide shot of all the destroyed Spires so they can have him talk to. We then take our first commercial break following that pronouncement.

Pegasusmon incorrectly calls his attack by the right name. The dub typically goes with Star Shower as the English name for Shooting Star.

As an aside, the animation feels different than usual in this episode. Closer to the flowy way the movies are animated.

Once a good bit of devastation has been wrought on the Dark Towers, Daisuke calls everyone for break.

Daisuke: GUYS!!! LET'S TAKE A BREAK!!!

Fladramon drops down in front of the tree and reverts to V-mon.

V-mon: Sounds good! Daisuke: Yeah!

Hikari and Tailmon join them a moment later, holding hands.

Hikari: I am getting thirsty.... Tailmon: Me too.

Then Takeru joins them with Patamon riding on his hat.

Takeru: There's a vending machine over there selling juice. Patamon: Let's go buy some! Tailmon: That's not a bad idea. We should go. Hikari: I'll go too! Daisuke: Me too! Me too!

Daisuke starts to descend the tree, but Hikari stops him.

Hikari: That's okay. We'll buy some for you and the others, Daisuke-kun. Daisuke: Ah... sure.... Takeru: (helpfully) Hey, what do you want to drink? Daisuke: Tch... You pick something.

Daisuke takes a moment to process the fact that he's been expressly disinvited, then sulks. Sorry, Daisuke, but those two are taking the opportunity for some alone time.

In the dub:

Davis: That's 147 so far today! I THINK WE COULD ALL USE A BREEEEEEAK!!! (Flamedramon lands in front of tree and reverts) Veemon: Let's eat! Davis: Yeah! Kari: I'm thirsty. Gatomon: Me too! T.K.: There was a vending machine with juice in it back there a ways. Patamon: Well then, why are we here? Gatomon: Hopefully it has milk. Preferably in a saucer. Kari: Count me in! Davis: Me too! I'm coming! Kari: Don't worry. We'll just get something and bring it back to you, okay? Davis: ...huh? Awww.... T.K.: Hey! What kind should we get you? Davis: Hmph... Whatever.

This is perfect. No notes.

After being blown off by Daisuke, Takeru and Hikari leave to go make out grab the drinks. V-mon is left behind with Daisuke.

V-mon: What's got you so upset? Daisuke: (tearing up, voice cracking) It's nothing.... V-mon: Then what's that watery smell!? If something's bothering you, I can give advice! Daisuke: (angry) I'M COMPLETELY FINE!!! Miyako: (bewildered) ...what happened to you...?

Real quick, saying something has 水臭い mizu kusai or a watery smell to it is the Japanese equivalent of "watered down". This beer you just brought me is 水臭い mizu kusai, it seems more like water than alcohol. It's weak and of poor quality.

As language evolves with new uses, this began to describe people. Your personality is watered down. It means you're keeping to yourself, not expressing yourself in ways that you should. You're being secretive or bottling things up.

And now Miyako's here! Daisuke suddenly realizes, with embarrassment, that he and V-mon are no longer alone.

Daisuke: (blushing) Mi-Miyako-san!? Miyako: ...yeah, it feels weird to hear you add the -san. Daisuke: Oh, can it! I don't need this from you too! Miyako: ...eh, whatever. In any case, I need to talk to you. Can you come down?

Miyako also can tell that something's up with Daisuke, especially when he puts an honorific on her name. He usually just calls her Miyako, which is unusually casual given that she's an upperclassmen, but she's used to it from him.

But she has more important things to talk about, so she's entirely willing to drop whatever this is.

In the dub:

Veemon: Davis, what's the matter with you? Davis: (tearing up, voice cracking) Nnnnrgh... Nothing. Veemon: I know when something's wrong and something's wrong. Now what's wrong!? Davis: Stop asking me what's wrong! Yolei: Huh? Hey Davis, what's wrong? Davis: Hrrrgh-- Huh? Urgh... Hi, Yolei. Yolei: Are you just gonna stay up there and be crabby all day? Davis: Look, I'm not crabby! Get it through your thick head! Yolei: Ah, now there's the old Davis. Why don't you come down here and we'll talk?

This section features a Japanese idiom and discussion of honorific usage, so it was guaranteed to be challenging to adapt for an English audience.

They do a good job patching the 水臭い mizu kusai hole via the "What's wrong" redundancy gag. That was pretty funny. And the crabbiness exchange works in context of both scene and character.

My one complaint is with Yolei's last line. She's supposed to be changing the subject here but instead it sounds like she's asking to discuss what's bothering Davis.

In any case, we already know what's eating Daisuke so let's talk about what's eating Miyako.

Daisuke: What? Iori and Ichijouji?

Daisuke and Miyako take positions behind a rock to spy on how Iori and Ken are spending their break. They're sitting on rocks facing away from each other and just... waiting for everyone else to finish.

Daisuke: So they're just giving each other space, huh? Miyako: That's right. We can't just leave them like this. Daisuke: (resigned) Yeah, I guess we can't. Miyako: In that case, how about this....

Miyako whispers her plan into Daisuke's ear. He immediately jumps out from behind the rock to put it into action.

Daisuke: Let's give it a try. IORI!!! ICHIJOUJI!!!

As the boys turn to look at Daisuke, Miyako very unsubtly yanks V-mon and Hawkmon back behind the rock to hide.

Daisuke: See that Dark Tower over there? Fladramon's Fire Rocket couldn't take it down! V-mon: What!? That measly Dark Tower couldn't--

Before V-mon can blow this whole thing, Miyako claps a hand over his mouth and yanks him back behind the rock.

Miyako: We're trying to get Iori and Ichijouji-kun to get along better. V-mon: Ohh, I get it now.

Ken and Iori stare skeptically at Daisuke. How utterly suspicious this all is has not been lost on them.

Daisuke: (sheepish) Sooooo, why don't you give it a try? V-mon: (sheepish) Sooooo, why don't you give it a try? Both: (fake as shit) A ha ha ha ha ha ha ha....

Yep. This is completely plausible and is definitely fooling everybody. Daisuke is an effective leader; In fact, he's in intense emotional pain right now but has elected to compartmentalize that because team-building for his crew is more important than his romance woes. But what he's not is a phenomenal liar.

(Daisuke for Crest of Purity FIGHT ME)

In the dub:

Yolei: It's about Cody and Ken. Have you noticed they never talk to each other? They're not friends. And it's not like they argue the way you and I do. They just don't talk. Davis: Yeah, you're right. I guess they're still both a little nervous around each other. Yolei: Well, they can't go on like this much longer. Davis: Well, what are we supposed to do about it? Yolei: Actually, I've got a plan. (Yolei whispers in Davis's ear) Davis: It's worth a shot. HEY!!! KEN, CODY, I NEED A HAND!!! Cody & Ken: Huh? Davis: See that Control Spire over there? It's right behind you! It seems like Flamedramon wasn't strong enough to knock that one down! Veemon: Are you nuts!? I could do that blindfolded! (Yolei yanks Veemon behind the rock) Yolei: Quiet! It's a plan to get Cody and Ken to work together. Veemon: Oh. Never mind! Cody & Ken: ... Davis: (sheepish) Ehehe, it's really kinda strange.... Veemon: (sheepish) Yeah, go figure, y'know? Both: (fake as shit) Hehehehehehehe....

Yolei implies a passage of time since last episode, with a recurring pattern of Ken and Cody not interacting with each other for multiple assignments now. That's not necessarily wrong, but it does make what's about to happen a little more awkward than if this was Ken's first time hanging out with us on purpose.

Not sure what she means about them not arguing "the way you and I do". They previously had Ken say that Davis and Cody bicker "like a married couple" and now they're suggesting a pattern of bickering between Davis and Yolei. Dub Team really seems to want Davis to be more of a troublemaker than he actually is.

They expected a shit-troll and got the emotional heart of the team. Whoops.

So, at Daisuke's behest, Stingmon and Digmon give it a try.

Stingmon: SPIKING FINISH!!! Digmon: BIG CRACK!!!

Their efforts turn that Dark Tower to dust. Reverting to Armadimon and Wormmon, the two Digimon grab onto each other and dance gleefully.

Armadimon & Wormmon: HOORAY!!! WE DID IT!!!

V-mon and Hawkmon give them golf claps to celebrate their "achievement". But Iori and Ken remain apart, not looking at one another.

Daisuke: Iori and Ichijouji's Digimon work together just fine, but.... Miyako: ...the problem is Iori and Ichijouji-kun.

Both Iori and Ichijouji continues to stare straight ahead. Neither acknowledging the other; Simply observing their joint achievement in silence.

In the dub:

Stingmon: SPIKING STRIKE!!! Digmon: ROCK CRACKIN'!!! (Stingmon and Digmon bring down the Control Spire) Wormmon: (dancing with Armadimon) YAY!!! WE DID IT!!! (Golf claps) Davis: Wormmon and Armadillomon seem to be getting along just fine. Yolei: Yeah. Now if only Cody and Ken would act the same way.

Pretty much the same. Armadillomon just laughs instead of saying anything, but that's the only thing I noticed different.

Daisuke and Miyako watch Iori and Ken disregard each other until finally Daisuke snaps.

Daisuke: Oh come on! You guys destroyed the Dark Tower together! The least you could do is shake hands! Iori: (sharply) Daisuke-san! Daisuke: ...what is it? Iori: Fladramon could have brought it down by himself. Ken: I think so too. Daisuke: ...you're right, but-- Iori: Please refrain from wasting energy. Miyako: What was that!? IORI, YOU-- Daisuke: Calm down, Miyako!

Daisuke grabs Miyako from behind, holding her back from erupting on Iori. This serves only to further alienate Ken, who now regrets having agreed to participate in this group activity.

Ken: Just like I expected. I'm disrupting your teamwork. Let's go, Wormmon. Wormmon: (dismayed) Ken-chan.... Daisuke/Miyako: (equally dismayed) Ichijouji/Ichijouji-kun....

Wormmon doesn't want to go, but he leaves with Ken. An outcome nobody seems happy with.

Armadimon: ...Wormmon.... Miyako: NYAAAAAHAAAAAAAAGH!!! AGAIN!!! Armadimon: Iori.... Iori: ...

Ken anticipated this outcome. This experiment to see if he truly could be a part of this team has ended in disaster and validated Ken's own feeling of social inadequacy towards this group. He was already uncomfortable with Daisuke's attempts to bring him onboard and now he has clear proof that he'll only create trouble by being here.

In the dub:

Davis: That's enough! You two just worked together to destroy a Control Spire! Why don't you shake hands and be friends!? Cody: (furious) DAVIS!!! Davis: ...what? Cody: I think Flamedramon could have destroyed that Control Spire! Ken: I agree with Cody. Davis: Well, now that you mention it.... Cody: Davis, please don't make us waste our energy like that again! Yolei: CODY, YOU'RE SO STUBBORN!!! Davis: YOLEI, STOP!!! You're not helping! (Davis struggles to restrain Yolei) Ken: It seems not every team member wants us around, Wormmon. Let's go. ... Davis & Yolei: But wait.... Yolei: Ken.... (Ken and Wormmon leave) Armadillomon: Wormmon, where ya going? Yolei: HRRRRRRGH YOU...! Armadillomon: Cody!

Cody is more emotional here than Iori. He's angry and yelling accusatorily, while Iori burns cold. Iori's voice is sharp, but dispassionate and controlled. There's an edge to it, but he's keeping his feelings reserved.

The biggest change is, as usual, with Ken. In the original, Ken is self-deprecating. He blames nobody but himself for this arrangement falling apart, considering himself (and with good reason) to be an inherent source of tension within this group.

Dub Ken blames Cody for it. He's leaving because Cody has failed to adequately make him feel welcomed, which is such a fucking diva move for this ex-piece of shit to pull. I hate what the dub's done with Ken's reformation arc.

There's also an awkward three-second silence between Ken saying "Let's go" and Davis and Yolei saying "But wait". In the original, "Let's go, Wormmon" happened in the following shot of Daisuke and Miyako after we leave a closeup of Ken's face. It was then followed by Wormmon saying, "Ken-chan...."

But Dub Ken finishes his line with the lip flaps designated to him in the closeup and Wormmon doesn't get his line. So the animation just... hangs on Davis and Yolei for three seconds until we get to the point where they can deliver their lines.

I do like Yolei's separate "Ken...." Miyako attaches the -kun honorific to Ken's name and Daisuke doesn't, so she has an extra lip flap. They used it well.

Cutting back to Arachnemon's lair, Mummymon gives her a massage while she thinks aloud.

Arachnemon: To defeat the Chosen Children, I will need to send out an immensely powerful Digimon... (to Mummymon) Lower. (to herself) With one Dark Tower....

Arachnemon flashes back on creating Golemon from the Dark Tower in the woods.

Arachnemon: ...we get that kind of Digimon. With ten Dark Towers....

She recalls creating Oukuwamon in the desert.

Arachnemon: ...we get that kind of Digimon. But they failed. To defeat the Chosen Children, I may need to use 100 Dark Towers. Mummymon: (thinking) In order for Arachnemon to use 100 Dark Towers, she would have to pull out 100 hairs. (despondently) If Arachnemon loses 100 hairs....

Staring at her flowing white hair, Mummymon is so distraught that he stops the massage. After a moment, Arachnemon realizes his mind is in the wrong place.

Arachnemon: What the hell are you picturing!?

She grabs him and hurls him off the cliff into a Dark Tower. Mummymon helplessly plunges into the woods below.

Arachemon: Seriously....

Down in the woods below, Mummymon picks himself up and dusts himself off.

Mummymon: (blushing) Every time Arachnemon throws me, all I feel is joy instead of pain! Could it be that I've fallen in love with Arachnemon?

Mummymon melts into the ground, basking in his romantic feelings until he's interrupted by the honking of the car horn above.

Arachnemon: What are you doing, Mummymon!? We're leaving! Mummymon: (bolting upright) Y-YES, MA'AM!!!

As funny as the image of Mummymon giving Arachnemon a massage over her coat is, it also makes a degree of sense. Since Digimon are wireframe bodies covered in a digital skin, that coat is legitimately the back of her character model.

In the dub:

Arukenimon: I'm going to need an all-powerful Digimon if I ever hope to squeeze the life out of the DigiDestined! Hmm.... When I only used one Control Spire.... (Golemon flashback) Arukenimon: ...this is what I created. And then I tried using ten Control Spires.... (Okuwamon flashback) Arukenimon: ...and I created this powerful creature! And yet neither of them were sufficient enough to defeat those kids. In order to destroy those kids, I'll need to use 100 Control Spires! Mummymon: If she's going to use 100 Control Spires, how many hairs does she need? Let's see, that's 6, carry the 4, minus 2... That would be 100! If you have to use 100 hairs, you could get a job in the circus as the Bald Lady! Ahahaha! Arukenimon: And you can join the circus on the Flying Trapeze!

This time, they don't cut the throw, but they put a white flash in to censor the moment Mummymon's back hits the Control Spire.

Mummymon: Every time she treats me like that, I feel closer and closer to her. Could this be love I'm feeling? Ooh... (Car turns on) Arukenimon: Mummymon, would you hurry it up!? We're leaving! Mummymon: (bolts upright) I'M COMING!!!

Gonna be honest, dude, I don't know what you were expecting to happen after that Bald Lady crack. At least your Japanese counterpart had the common courtesy to only think it. XD

Wasting no time, Arachnemon and Mummymon find a good place to put Arachnemon's new plan into action. Arachnemon takes a fistful of her hair, folding it across her mouth.

Arachnemon: To defeat the Chosen Children... to bring ruin to the Digital World... a truly menacing Digital Monster... ARISE!!!

You know, I expected her to bite her hair off but instead she flourishes it like angel wings so I dunno what the hair-biting thing was about. Maybe she's just trichophagic.

In any case, we go to commercial wondering what the hell sort of creature is about to emerge. Don't look at the title card.

In the dub, they let out a bit of silence-breaking banter on the drive in.

Mummymon: (singing) 99 Control Spires on the side of the road, 99 Control Spires! You knock one down-- Arukenimon: Oh, be quiet. Look at all those beautiful Control Spires. I knew those eager beaver brats didn't have time to clean up this area yet. (Mummymon and Arukenimon arrive) Arukenimon: Are you ready? Mummymon: Ehehehehehe... I love watching you work. Arukenimon: Then you're really going to love this. This creature will not only destroy the DigiDestined but also the entire Digital World! DIGIMON OF DARKNESS, COME TO ME!!!

The dub takes its second commercial break here as well.

This is pretty good. I particularly like the "eager beaver brats" remark. It's witty but also feels appropriate for the situation, since we know Arachnemon/Arukenimon is under pressure at this point from how thoroughly the kids are cleaning up the Towers/Spires.

They're making their jokes but keeping it reasonably in-character and both situationally and tonally appropriate, which is all I ask for.

Returning from commercial break, we find Iori sitting by himself contemplating the can of tea in his hand. Takeru and Hikari have returned with the drinks.

A little surprised that it's tea, since Takeru said the vending machine sold juice, but I guess it had both. The label reads まったりお茶 Mattari Ocha or Relaxing Tea.

Iori doesn't drink his tea; He just stares at the can, seeming more depressed than anything else.

Takeru: So that's what happened? Miyako: Neither Iori nor Ichijouji-kun are being honest with their feelings. Hikari: I can't say I don't understand where Iori-kun's coming from, though.

The team continues to watch Iori for a moment, but nobody has anything else to say. Finally, Daisuke lifts his can to his lips and starts drinking his juice. Following his lead, the rest of the team start drinking theirs in unison. A subtle moment but one that demonstrates the influence Daisuke now has over this group.

The dub leads us in with Davis finishing explaining the recap rather than T.K. reacting to it.

Davis: And that's the whole story! He's been up there ever since. T.K.: We're gone ten minutes and you cause a mutiny!? Yolei: Both of them are so stubborn. Neither one of them is willing to talk to the other! Kari: I feel sorry for Cody. I'm sure he feels terrible.

Davis's extra line allows T.K. to hone in on and yell at him, specifically, for what just happened. Which seems unfair given that it was Miyako/Yolei's plan, but Davis is the dub's whipping boy.

After finishing his drink, Daisuke sighs and looks at Iori again.

Daisuke: Iori... Ichijouji... They both have some growing up to do.

With those simple words, Daisuke immediately party-wipes the entire team. Complete annihilation, no survivors. At once, everybody suddenly chokes on their juice.

Daisuke: Hey, you guys think so too, right?

They don't answer him. They can't answer him. All they can do is cough and hack up their lungs in a desperate bid to survive the critical hit he just dealt to their psyches.

Suddenly, Arachnemon's car tires ripping up the terrain can be heard. Daisuke doesn't notice it; He's too busy being offended when he realizes he nearly killed everyone with that remark.

Daisuke: WHAT THE HELL!?!? DID I SAY SOMETHING FUNNY!?!?

But the others hear it. Once they finish choking, they put on their game faces, preparing to confront their inbound nemesis.

In the dub:

Davis: You know what, I was thinking.... Maybe I should talk to both of them about acting their own age. (Total Party Kill) Davis: I think I can straighten them out. Team: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! (Tires) Davis: ALRIGHT, WHAT EXACTLY IS SO FUNNY!?!?

This joke was already at Daisuke's expense; The thing that got everyone is that Daisuke, of all people, is saying that someone else needs to grow up.

The dub takes that unstated gag, makes it explicit, and exaggerates it. Davis goes so far as to say that he should go sort them out and teach them how to be mature. Then, instead of reflexively choking on their juice, the team actually laughs in his face about it.

That last part was probably a judgment call, rather than a deliberate change. The translated script likely didn't include hacking noises and we know they've been tripped up by non-verbal sounds a lot because they didn't actually watch the episode with the audio on. So they probably just looked at that animation there and made their best guess about what noises are supposed to be coming out of those children.

Arachnemon's car draws closer and closer, now visible in the distance. Except to Daisuke, who's facing the others.

Though the sudden chilling of the team's demeanors is not lost on him.

Daisuke: Uh... Have I offended you guys...?

Arachnemon's car pulls up behind him, screeching to a stop.

Daisuke: Hey, what's wrong? Why's everybody so quiet? Takeru: Behind you, Daisuke-kun. Daisuke: Huh?

Finally Daisuke turns around just in time to see Arachnemon and Mummymon step out of the vehicle.

Arachnemon: So this is where you've all been. Daisuke: Yeah, what about it!? Takeru: What do you want!? Arachnemon: Well now, I thought you might like to play with the new Digimon I just made. Miyako: How many times are we going to have to teach you this lesson, Old Woman!?

Okay no, she doesn't quote a Sponge Bob meme. But she does say "懲りないの Korinai no!?" which is phrasing "A person who doesn't learn their lesson" as a question, so she basically does.

Miyako: Haven't you learned yet!? You've done nothing but lose to us! Arachnemon: This time... WE'LL HAVE TO SEE!!!

Acknowledging onscreen that the antagonist is a repeat loser always does wonders for their credibility, doesn't it? But she backs it up, as each of the 100 hairs she released enters 100 Dark Towers at once, shaking the earth.

In the dub:

Davis: Uhhh, look... Are you guys mad? (Car pulls up) Davis: You don't have to give me the silent treatment. I mean, come on! T.K.: Davis, take a look behind you. Davis: Huh!? (Arukenimon and Mummymon emerge) Arukenimon: Shouldn't you boys and girls be home with your mommies and daddies? Davis: None of your business! T.K.: Alright, what do you want!? Arukenimon: I thought you kids might enjoy playing with a little Digimon I put together. Yolei: When will you learn!? Every time you try to fight us, you end up losing! Arukenimon: Not this time. SPIRIT NEEDLE!!!

Solid. No notes.

As the ground shakes, Arachnemon and Mummymon get back in the car and drive towards the Dark Tower mountain.

Arachnemon: Right this way, children!

The whole mountain of Dark Towers begins to lift into the air. Some of them disintegrate into pixels.

V-mon: Daisuke! Daisuke: Yeah! (XV-mon Evolution) Takeru: DIGIMENTAL UP!!! (Pegasmon Armor Evolution) (Aquilamon Evolution) (Ankylomon Evolution) Hikari: DIGIMENTAL UP!!! (Nefertimon Armor Evolution)

As the Digimon evolve one by one, spliced between their stock animations, more and more of the Dark Towers levitate into the air and disintegrate into pixels.

In the dub:

Arukenimon: Have a good time! Play nice! (Control Spires rise into air and begin disintegrating) Veemon: Davis! Davis: Right! (ExVeemon Digivolution) T.K.: DIGI-ARMOR ENERGIZE!!! (Pegasusmon Armor Digivolution) (Aquilamon Digivolution) (Ankylomon Digivolution) Kari: DIGI-ARMOR ENERGIZE!!! (Nefertimon Armor Digivolution)

Arukenimon makes it sound like she's leaving, which is odd since she'll continue to be present here. Arachnemon is specifically baiting them towards where her Digimon is coming into being; She expects to be followed.

I do like the "Play nice!" bit though. XD

Daisuke: Let's go, team!

Once the evolutions are finished, Daisuke leads the group in pursuit of Arachnemon's car.

Arachnemon: Enthusiastic as ever, I see. But soon, that excitement will turn to fear....

While chasing the car, Daisuke and Miyako are joined by Iori.

Daisuke & Miyako: IORI!!! Iori: Daisuke-san! Miyako-san! This seems different from the other times. I have a bad feeling about it. Takeru-san's group is too far ahead!

Above, Hikari and Takeru approach the mountain on their Digimon. However, the visage of the enemy is beginning to form from the swirling pixels of all those Dark Towers.

In the dub:

Davis: Let's do it! (The team chases Arukenimon) Arukenimon: Now that's funny. They think they have a chance! This is fun... Nothing quite relaxes me like scaring kids! (Cody joins Davis and Yolei) Davis: Come on, guys! Hurry! Cody: I've got a bad feeling about this! T.K. and Kari are too far ahead! (Shadow appears over the mountain) Kari: T.K., what's that!?

Solid.

Suddenly, the shadow attacks, knocking Hikari and Takeru out of the sky.

Iori: AH!!! Daisuke: HIKARI-CHAN!!! Miyako: TAKERU-KUN!!!

The two veterans come crashing to the ground.

In the dub, it's the same.

Cody: AH!!! Davis: KARI!!! Yolei: T.K.!!!

Barely even able to lift their heads, Pegasmon and Nefertimon watch helplessly as the 100 Dark Towers combined and form into the shape of a Digimon.

Pegasmon: That's....Black.... Nefertimon: ...Black... War... Greymon.... BlackWarGreymon: HRAAAAAAAGH!!!

Upon his activation, BlackWarGreymon's first act is just to scream to the heavens. Which, y'know, felt.

BlackWarGreymon is an Ultimate-stage Virus-attribute Dragonman Digimon, and I assume he's an answer to the MetalGreymon recolor conundrum. As previously noted, the blue MetalGreymon we see when the Digimon Kaiser's controlling him is the original MetalGreymon; Ours is a Vaccine-attribute recolor.

Over time, new entries have been added and there now exists a whole parallel Virus chain to mirror Agumon's anime evolution line. Agumon (Black) evolves into Greymon (Blue) evolves into MetalGreymon (Blue) and finally into BlackWarGreymon.

Blue MetalGreymon may have been fired from his own evolution line but at least he got to go make his own evolution line out of spite.

Narrator: BlackWarGreymon! He may look like WarGreymon, but this Ultimate Digimon created from Dark Towers has a dark soul. He accumulates negative thoughts and feelings before releasing them with his special attack Ankoku no Gaia Force! Takeru: ...but... that's impossible.... Hikari: It can't be... what is BlackWarGreymon...?

Hikari and Takeru pass out there, receiving no answers because they can't hear the narrator.

WarGreymon's special attack is the Genki-Dama/Spirit Bomb from Dragon Ball. BlackWarGreymon can form a Genki-Dama from hate, fear, and that embarrassing high school memory that your brain torments you with late at night.

Like most attacks including the original Gaia Force, the "Gaia Force" part is in English. 黒の Ankoku no means "of Darkness". Gaia Force of Darkness or Dark Gaia Force.

In the dub:

Pegasusmon: I... I know who that is.... Nefertimon: It's... It's BlackWarGreymon.... BlackWarGreymon: HRAAAAAAGH!!!

The awakening of BlackWarGreymon is where the dub takes their third commercial break.

Narrator: BlackWarGreymon is a Mega Digimon who looks like WarGreymon but he's pure evil. His Terra Destroyer attack releases a concentration of 100% negative energy. T.K.: Black...WarGreymon...? It can't be.... Kari: It is... But I don't know how it's possible....

For some reason, the dub breaks with the diegetic rundowns and has the narrator explain BlackWarGreymon despite Pegasmon and Nefertimon acknowledging in both versions that they somehow know what this guy is. One of them could easily have delivered the diegetic rundown.

With two of our team down, three remain.

XV-mon: What do we do, Ankylomon? Ankylomon: You have to ask? We protect the children-dagyaa. Aquilamon: That's all we can do!

Together, the three remaining Adults rush BlackWarGreymon. This is a terrible idea and it goes very badly.

BlackWarGreymon meets XV-mon in the air and, after a weird two-second pause, headbutts him down into the ground. Then he slashes Aquilamon in the face with whatever his equivalent to the Dramon Killer is. Once Aquilamon's off him, he catches up to XV-mon on the ground, shoving him back into Ankylomon and taking them both for a ride.

A short distance away, Arachnemon and Mummymon watch the fight, chuckling to themselves.

In the dub:

ExVeemon: What should we do, Ankylomon!? Ankylomon: I'd say protecting the kids is high on the list. Aquilamon: I agree wholeheartedly!

The dub adds a white flash to censor the hit on Aquilamon, but leaves the headbutt to ExVeemon uncensored. Otherwise, it's all the same.

No idea why XV-mon/ExVeemon is suddenly deferring to Ankylomon for leadership but it's like that in both versions.

While BlackWarGreymon manhandles their Digimon, the kids watch on in horror.

Daisuke: He-he's so strong.... Iori: If this keeps up, they'll all.... Miyako: The only thing that can win this is Paildramon! We have to contact Ichijouji-kun!

Elsewhere in the Digital World, Ken and Stingmon are doing their own thing again in this weird colorful swiss-cheese rock region. Stingmon topples a Dark Tower while playing the "Cool Guys Don't Look at Explosions" card somehow.

Ken's found a good spot to sit and watch. Suddenly, his D-Terminal chimes. It's a useless message from Miyako that only reads, "Ken-kun, come here quick!" and offers no further context.

He sends back a response that Miyako reads aloud. It's not surprising.

Miyako: "I don't want to disrupt your teamwork." Daisuke: Now isn't the time to be worrying about teamwork! Iori: Ngh...

Iori steps away for a moment, fuming. Then his feelings get the better of him and he erupts.

Iori: WE SHOULD FIGHT WITHOUT HIM!!! Daisuke: (sharply) Iori! Miyako: STOP IT, BOTH OF YOU!!! I'll go bring him here! AQUILAMON!!! Aquilamon: Miyako-san!

Pulling Aquilamon out of the fight, Miyako sprints towards him while calling back at Daisuke and Iori.

Miyako: I'll be right back with Ichijouji-kun! Hold out until then! Daisuke: Right! Iori: Tch....

Or you could just write a better email, Miyako. That is an option too. You might get a different response with "We are all being actively murdered by Arachnemon, please help." In fact, I know you would because we've tested this in the past. There is precedent!

It's fitting that Miyako has a D-Terminal, given her D-grade in communication.

In the dub:

Davis: He's too strong for them! Cody: They need more help, NOW!!! Yolei: Paildramon is the only one who is strong enough to help! That's it, then; We have to call Ken! (Control Spire collapses in the swiss cheese region) Stingmon: Finally! I'm good at something!

Rewritten in English, Yolei's email reads "Ken, please help us!" which is only marginally better than Miyako's.

Ken: An email? It's from Yolei.... Stingmon: What does she want, Ken? (Ken sends reply) Yolei: "I don't want to mess up the dynamics of your team"? Davis: Worrying about our team is the least of our problems! Cody: I say forget about Ken! We never needed him before and we don't need him now! We can do this on our own! Davis: You're wrong! Yolei: Both of you, knock it off! You're acting like a couple of 12-year-olds! ...ugh, you know what I mean! AQUILAMON!!! Aquilamon: You called? Yolei: We're gonna find Ken and bring him back! Hold the fort until then! Davis: Right!

The "couple of 12-year-olds" crack is clearly meant to insinuate that they are a couple of 12-year-olds. That's the punchline. But it makes the characters' ages very confusing since Daisuke is 11 and Iori is 9. Miyako is 12.

They bumped up the three-year timeskip to four years for the dub but it's never been clearly established whether they also aged up the DigiDestined by a year. Or did they just shore everyone up to 12? Because Cody clearly isn't.

I would have just said "You're acting like children" and not given a weirdly specific age number that raises all sorts of questions.

Ken's "I don't want to disrupt the dynamics of your team" remark is an accurate adaptation of the original message. But it comes off a little passive-aggressive after that "Not everyone wants us here!" remark from earlier.

So, with Aquilamon removed from the fight, how we doing?

That's about right. BlackWarGreymon is completely manhandling XV-mon and Ankylomon while Arachnemon kinda swoons for him.

Arachnemon: My BlackWarGreymon... (swoon) His strength is so captivating.... Mummymon: (displeased) Sure is.

Will Arachnemon succeed in becoming BlackWarGreymon's Mommy Girlfriend? FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON--

In the dub:

Arukenimon: I have created a magnificent specimen... (swoon) If I do say so myself.

Arukenimon expresses a similar idea but in a less flirtatious way.

Back in the swiss cheese rock region, Ken continues to sulk until he feels Stingmon's shadow cross over him. His Partner is watching him with concern.

Stingmon: Shouldn't we go, Ken-chan? Ken: Go where? Stingmon: Don't play dumb. Daisuke's team reached out to you, didn't they? Ken: ...Motomiya-kun's team is-- Miyako: ICHIJOUJI-KUN!!!

Out of nowere, Aquilamon swoops in with Miyako on his back.

Ken: Miyako-san!? Miyako: Come quick! Arachnemon's created an unbelievably powerful Digimon!

Ken does not come quick. He just looks down and sulks.

Stingmon: (sharply) Ken! Miyako: Without Paildramon....

Oooo, Stingmon dropped the honorific. He's mad.

Ken slowly stands up so he can give Miyako her answer to her face.

Ken: (reluctantly) I'm sorry, Miyako-san, but-- Miyako: STUPID!!! Ken: Stupid? Miyako: YOU'RE BEING STUPID!!!

Miyako screams 馬鹿 baka and slaps Ken right in his dumb 馬鹿 baka face.

This is the end of the argument. Ken will be returning with Miyako next scene. Between Daisuke and Miyako, what we are learning is that Ken is shockingly receptive to percussive maintenance. He gets on his shit from time to time but apparently it's nothing a 馬鹿 baka slap can't fix.

In the dub:

Stingmon: Ken? Are you sure you don't want to go? Ken: Go where? Stingmon: You know where. Davis and the others called you, didn't they? Davis: I don't know what you're talking about.

Neither do I, since that was an email. Even if we account for the dub giving the D-Terminal phone capabilities, the email was visible onscreen. They even rewrote it in English.

This is something that's tripped up the dub a couple of times with the D-Terminal and it's because the verb 呼ば yoba means to call out to someone. Like raising your voice and going "HEY, COME HERE!!!" Every time they "call" someone on the D-Terminal, it's a mistranslation of this verb.

Yolei: Hey, Ken! It's me! Ken: Huh? Yolei!? What are you doing here!? Yolei: You have to hurry! Arukenimon made this really strong Digimon! We need Paildramon! Ken: ... Stingmon: (sharply) Ken! (Ken stands up) Ken: Yolei, I can't go. Yolei: You must! Ken: I'm sorry. Yolei: Why, you... RRRRRAAAAAGH!!! (Slap)

This is good. They even make the 馬鹿 baka slap work feel really natural. Yolei's violent outburst is well localized.

I was honestly expecting them to cut it but they don't even censor it with a white flash.

With Ken and Stingmon firmly in tow, Miyako returns to the battlefield. They pass over a battered Hikari and Takeru, who are cradling their devolved Digimon.

Hikari: Ichijouji-kun...? Takeru: Stingmon...? Miyako: Everyone here is fighting for their lives! Ken: ....

Ken doesn't answer that; He just puts his hand to his cheek, feeling the sting from where she slapped him.

Meanwhile, the fight still isn't going well. XV-mon is flat on his back and barely conscious. Ankylomon tackles BlackWarGreymon on his hind legs, shoving him back and away from XV-mon.

Ankylomon: Hang in there! Stingmon will get here any second now! XV-mon: ...yeah....

Still determined to fight on, XV-mon struggles to stand back up.

In the dub:

Kari: Huh...? It's Ken and Yolei! Yolei: I'm sorry I slapped you but you needed to wake up. Ken: .... (Ankylomon tackles BlackWarGreymon) Ankylomon: Let's keep fighting! I'm sure that Stingmon will show up soon! ExVeemon: ...rrrgh...right!

Miyako doubles down on how stupid Ken's being while Yolei backs off and apologizes to him. Another minor instance of the dub being more sympathetic to Ken than the original script, but not a particularly noteworthy one.

Still watching from the sidelines, Arachnemon's ready to end this.

Arachnemon: BlackWarGreymon! It's time to finish this!

He does not. BlackWarGreymon hoists Ankylomon over his head, not exactly demonstrating the urgency that's being demanded of him.

Mummymon: That is a direct order from your creator Arachnemon!

Too late. Miyako and Ken arrive on the scene, swooping overhead.

Miyako: Daisuke! I brought Ichijouji-kun and Stingmon! Daisuke: (smiling) ...Ken. Ken: (smiling) ...Motomiya-kun.

The boys' reunion is adorable and I'm gonna let it speak for itself next section. But for this part, while it's not quite as apparent since BlackWarGreymon is still fighting our guys in there, Mummymon's line implies that BlackWarGreymon is shirking his instructions.

XV-mon and Ankylomon are hanging in there partly because BlackWarGreymon isn't going as hard at them as he's supposed to. Given that he's a mindless Dark Tower construct, that's a little weird.

Foreshadowing foreshadowing.

In the dub:

Arukenimon: BlackWarGreymon, it's time! Finish them off once and for all! (BlackWarGreymon wrassles with Ankylomon) Mummymon: Arukenimon is your master. You must do what she tells you! (Yolei and Ken arrive) Yolei: Davis! I brought Stingmon and Ken to give us a hand! Davis: (smiling) Alright! Ken: (smiling) Let's get to work.

Yeah, that's way less shippy when they don't softly say each other's names.

The dub did understand the assignment with Mummymon's interjection.

Ken and Daisuke waste no time Jogressing, and I finally get to show off what Paildramon's evolution looks like with the original music backing it.

This is what I'm talking about when I say that some of the insert songs in the dub are really good but there's just no competing with the way the original's insert songs are interlocked with the evolution stock animation itself.

Arachnemon: That one has been a persistent thorn in my side. BlackWarGreymon, go on and show them the full extent of our grudge! BlackWarGreymon: NRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAGH!!! Paildramon: ESCRIMA!!!

Roaring at each other, BlackWarGreymon and Paildramon collide in the air, momentarily knocking each other back.

In the dub:

Arukenimon: BlackWarGreymon, I've seen this mutant Digimon before. I want you to show him who's the most powerful Digimon in the entire Digital World! BlackWarGreymon: RAAAAAAAAGH!!! Paildramon: This is gonna get uglyyyyyyy!

Paildramon doesn't call his attack here.

Arukenimon only attests to having seen Paildramon before but makes no assessment of how tough he is. Which is unfortunate because that assessment is contextually kind of important. We'll see why in a bit.

After colliding with BlackWarGreymon, Paildramon's selves take a moment to discuss their foe.

Paildramon (XV-mon): Clearly, he's nothing like any of the Digimon that Arachnemon's created up until now. Paildramon (Stingmon): Let's put all of our strength into this attack. Paildramon: DESPERADO BLASTER!!!

Paildramon pours everything he's got into his signature move and unloads hell on BlackWarGreymon. It achieves nothing. BlackWarGreymon doesn't even flinch as he withstands Paildramon's full strength.

Paildramon: What...? BlackWarGreymon: Hrrrrgh.... Miyako: Even Paildramon is useless here? Ken: (stunned) That's impossible.... Iori: It can't be.... Daisuke: Paildramon.... Arachnemon / Mummymon: Ohohohohoho / Ehehehehehe!

There's no two ways about it. True to his status as an Ultimate Digimon, BlackWarGreymon can take everything Paildramon has and then some.

In the dub, as before, Paildramon does not split his voices to talk to himself.

Paildramon: Wow, talk about meeting head to head! We're gonna need an aspirin the size of a Control Spire after this fight. DESPERADO BLASTER!!! (BlackWarGreymon tanks it) Paildramon: Uh-oh. BlackWarGreymon: Nyehehehehehehe! Yolei: Look, there's not even a scratch on him. Ken: (stunned) Impossible.... Davis: Paildramon was our only chance! Now what do we do!? Arachnemon & Mummymon: Huhuhuhuhuhu....

Paildramon doesn't say he's putting all of his power into this attack so the effect isn't quite as pronounced, but you do still get the impression that what just happened shouldn't have, and this is very bad for us.

Now, it's BlackWarGreymon's turn.

As BlackWarGreymon's eye flashes, Hikari's the first to see it coming.

BlackWarGreymon: Hrrrgh.... Hikari: EVERYBODY RUN!!!! BlackWarGreymon: HROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!

But it's too late to run. BlackWarGreymon releases his power in a massive radial blast wave, annihilating everything.

In the dub:

BlackWarGreymon: Hrrrgh.... Kari: (gasp) LET'S GET OUT OF HEEEEEEERE!!! BlackWarGreymon: HROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!

The dub's scream doesn't attack your soul directly for psychic damage but it's hard to compete with Japan in the field of shonen anime battle screaming. They wrote the book on it.

When the dust settles, there is no uncertainty about who's won this battle.

The children are down and barely clinging to life. The music is deathly silent.

The dub has the "we're in peril" BGM playing in the background and has all the kids make groaning sounds so you know they're alive. But the original is silent.

The only sound heard is BlackWarGreymon's heavy footsteps as he approaches the battered and unconscious Leafmon and Chicomon.

Arachnemon: Well done, BlackWarGreymon. I have plenty of work for you to do. Go out and destroy! Destroy! Destroy this Digital World with wild abandon! BlackWarGreymon: ... Mummymon: What's the matter with you, BlackWarGreymon!? That is a direct order from your creator Arachnemon! BlackWarGreymon: ...I don't follow orders from anyone. Arachnemon & Mummymon: (stunned) ...what...?

Yeah, what they said. This is a startling moment for both the audience and our Team Rocket duo. Dark Tower Digimon aren't real. They're mindless husks of Dark Tower matter, right? They don't even call attacks; They sure as fuck don't converse.

And yet.

BlackWarGreymon: The two of you seem pretty weak. You wouldn't be suitable opponents for me. I'm going to search for someone stronger.

Leaving behind only those words he shouldn't even be capable of speaking, BlackWarGreymon takes to the sky.

This moment is not only startling but also sheds new light on the earlier moments with the fight. Why didn't BlackWarGreymon utterly dominate XV-mon and Ankylomon, even when Arachnemon told him to? Because he was still feeling things out for himself, with that conscious mind he's not supposed to have.

He fought Paildramon because Paildramon was a new challenger, and not because Arachnemon told him to. When Paildramon takes the field, without realizing she's doing it, Arachnemon expresses to BlackWarGreymon that this one is a truly exceptional foe worthy of his time and effort.

But now it's over. He's disappointed. He has no real compulsion to finish off helpless, defeated foes. He doesn't really care what Arachnemon and Mummymon are on about. And he's disappointed in the level of fighting he got to do. So he just. Peaces out.

In the dub:

Arukenimon: You have done an outstanding job, BlackWargreymon. You may now proceed to destroy the Digital World. BlackWarGreymon: .... Mummymon: Don't just stand there patting yourself on the back. Your master has given you new orders! Now get to work! BlackWarGreymon: ...I will take orders from no one. Arukenimon & Mummymon: You what!? BlackWarGreymon: Why should I take orders from you when you're so weak, you need me to do your fighting for you? I must find a more worthy opponent.

The dub's BWG combines the two ideas expressed here into one, giving a considered and thoughtful response to Arukenimon's command. Original BWG just says no and then briefly sizes them up as potential battle rivals. He does not give a fuck. What's your power level at?

Same idea but tonally different. Original BWG comes across as blunt and myopic, while the dub's take on the character is more well-reasoned.

Watching BlackWarGreymon disappear into the sky, Arachnemon faints right into Mummymon's arms.

Mummymon: A-Arachnemon!? (tenderly) Arachnemon... are you okay?

Arachnemon rouses a moment later. Realizing where she is, she suddenly gasps and pulls away from Mummymon. Then she punches him straight in the gut, making him slump down in the car.

Arachnemon: WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?!?

Finally, she bites the thumb of her glove out of frustration and hisses.

Arachnemon: Rrrgh... BlackWarGreymon...!

And this is where we leave off for today's episode. Now, I know what you must be thinking. What exactly is stopping Arachnemon and Mummymon from doing a coup de grace to the Chosen Children while they're all laid out and helpless like that? And the answer....

...

In any case, this will not be the last we see of BlackWarGreymon.

In the dub:

Mummymon: A-Arukenimon! Can you hear me!? Speak to me, my darling! Arukenimon: (rousing) Euggggh....

Arukenimon makes vaguely dissatisfied mouth noises, but the footage of her pulling away and punching Mummymon is cut. We go straight to BlackWarGreymon flying away and Arukenimon biting her glove.

Narrator: How can the DigiDestined handle BlackWarGreymon and Arukenimon at the same time? Find out on the next Digimon: Digital Monsters!

And on that note, this episode promised a decisive answer to whether the DigiDestined will destroy all the Control Spires before Arukenimon gets her hands on them.

No. The answer was no. They did not. Mission failed. But it didn't go any better for Arukenimon, so that's a plus.

Assessment: So there's not a lot to talk about this episode since it's a lot of setup and one long fight scene.

The big thing here is Ken and Iori. We had been making progress integrating Ken into the team and getting both Ken and Iori comfortable with a status quo like that. But progress doesn't mean the problem is solved, and they both backslide in a huge way here.

The tragic thing is, had they both been left to their own devices and allowed to find their way, things probably wouldn't have blown up like this. Ken was actually making an effort to be a part of the team, and Iori was content to quietly resent him from a distance.

Time could have helped them both get comfortable in this arrangement.

But neither Daisuke nor Miyako are known for their patience. By butting in and trying to force Iori and Ken together, they succeeded only in bringing Iori's resentment bubbling back to the surface and in validating Ken's reservations.

Also I said it earlier but I'm really proud of Daisuke for compartmentalizing his unrequited feelings for Hikari and being able to put them aside when his team needs him.

[the-magnusinstitute]

Where do I go to make a statement about the Horrors™️

The basement!

[gender-is-fake]

There was a small wooden rack filled with a collection of decorated eggs on the dilapidated mantelpiece. It looked out of place, but Shell had insisted on placing them there, those prized petty trophies he had stolen from the governor in their first successful art heist. Now he was staring darkly at the collection. Burn turned towards the window—anything to get out of the room. To think. To understand. The report droned on in the background.

It was the VCEA—“villain control enforcement agents,” who were really just police in fancy outfits. The VCEA had always been violent with them, but to go this far… no one had ever expected they’d do something like this. Torturing their friends to the point of killing them. Their bodies had been marked with burns. Their skin was blackened, blue, lumpy. The worst part was that the news was taking the side of the law enforcement. Acting like they’d had no other choice. But Burn knew that was wrong. There was no world in which his comrades would have actually confronted cops, especially not without reinforcements or preparation. They were too close to their homes for an altercation, just blocks away. They’d been ambushed. He couldn’t listen anymore. Burn clicked a button on the remote and the screen flickered to black. They were silent for a moment.

“… Nothing?” Burn asked.

Shell was despondent. His head hung low, his white hair hanging over his face, still staring forward at his trophies with an empty look. He didn’t reply. It didn’t make sense to Burn. Shell had had powers. Shell had been known to lob fireballs. Freeze tides with his icy winds. He was a master of temperature control and strategy. Sure Burn had never seen him lob a projectile at full scale, but Shell had demonstrated his power in front of him before, playing with sparks and icy sighs in his hands before his eyes. It was a way he liked to threaten the people usually; a small demonstration of the control he possessed. Burn had appreciated Shell’s powers, and that’s why he’d gone into Shell’s service.

“All this time. All this work,” Burn murmured. “Distracting the mob, the law enforcement, playing your intricate little games against them, and you don’t have anything you can do?”

Shell just shook his head.

“No? Your reputation is feared. It doesn’t make sense! Just hit them with a wave of destruction. Make them regret ever touching you in the first place. Then we can get back to what we do. The petty thefts, the drug trades with rich kid’s asshole children. The things we’ve always done.”

Shell’s gaze didn’t move, but he began to fiddle with his cuffhooks. Once he had undone the button he lifted his singed sleeve, revealing a bracelet underneath. He unhooked this bracelet, placed it on the table, and then pressed a red button. Little sparks sizzled outward by about a foot. Burn could only assume that the blue button did the frost wind.

“The fireballs were deployed by canons controlled by the lieutenants. The bracelets sold the illusion of my power in close quarters. With the other lieutenants gone… well, we just don’t have anyone to…” Shell swallowed. His face was grave. Ashen. Burn didn’t understand. How had they all believed it? This ruse?

“I just don’t get it. I mean, I just… No. No. Don’t say it…” Burn hung his head too. He’d said it himself. “Reputation.”

Burn understood the name Shell now. He understood fabergé eggs. It had always been in plain sight and he just never saw it. Shell’s powers were decorative on the outside, giving the impression that he was worth fearing. Inside, he had always been empty.

You pretend to be a small-time villain. At worst, you annoy the local supers but your crimes never hurt anyone. All fun and games until things change when a truly sadistic super villain invades your turf and murders a few of the supers. No one has seen the extent of your true powers until now.

[jealous-of-josie]

Josie’s nose scrunched up in the way that it typically did when she was lightly frustrated. It felt like a massive imposition to stay at all, let alone to kick him out of his own bed, even if he was the one being so insistent in his offer. She was almost tempted to point out that there was nothing stopping him from also sleeping in the bed with her if it was big enough, as she rather suspected it would be. But then again, that wasn’t exactly a typical arrangement for friends. And beyond that fact, Josie knew well enough that she was hardly in a state to keep herself from cuddling up to him if they did sleep in the same bed. She shook the thought from her head, focusing instead on the way that Hektor’s expression had seemed to change. And that question. Well that certainly made her cheeks burn again. She wanted to argue really, to insist that he didn’t have to offer or that she didn’t need the help. But she’d just demonstrated—and even said—that she very much did need the help where the stairs were concerned. “I… um… Sure,” she replied, although she accentuated it with a subtle nod given the way her words came out as not much more than a mumble.

The color and temperature of her cheeks in combination threatened to betray her thoughts entirely as Hektor stepped closer to her—and neither compared to her fluttering heart rate. It didn’t keep her from lacing her arms around his neck, hugging herself closer as he lifted her off of the ground. It took everything in her not to tuck her face into the crook of his neck though. Because even from this close vantage point she was all too focused on his warmth and his scent, both of which were highly… distracting in their intoxication. Josie held shockingly silent as Hektor carried her up the stairs, and even as they entered the apartment itself. She didn’t trust herself not to say or do something incredibly wanting.

Josie bobbled just a tad as Hektor set her down again, though almost in a way to snap herself out of the daze of that walk. She’d been caught up in controlling herself, but also committing the entirety of it to memory, even with the added haze of drink. She glanced in the direction of the bathroom door as he indicated it, but her gaze came back to Hektor not long after, frowning a bit as he moved further away and continued to speak. Because he wasn’t looking at her now. Was it awkward for him? Or unwelcome and now he was regretting the offer? She bit her lip, trying to determine a way that maybe she could convince him to walk back on his prior insistence. Josie allowed her fingertips to trace the edge of the behind her as she watched him, still deep in thought when he reached out to offer her the shirt. She stepped forward then, taking the t-shirt from Hektor’s hand and allowing one of her hands to rest atop his in hopes she might catch his eye again. “Thank you. Do you want me to wait out here while you get ready for bed?” She questioned, nodding in the direction of the bathroom since she was assuming he’d be going in for his own sake of winding down—and then that thought caught her focus a little too much, allowing certain images of Hektor to cross her mind… not the sort one should imagine of a friend. She ducked her head a bit then, taking the t-shirt properly now and hugging it against her chest. “It’s not too late for me to sleep on the couch either… I feel bad taking your bed from you.”

That damned purr in her voice again. He couldn't stop the shiver that ran through him at it. It was like her voice was a physical thing. Like she was running her fingers along his spine. He found himself lifting his eyes sky wards, a habit at the mention of the sky god and a plea for mercy. From the god himself for the comparison but mostly from the effects Josie had on him. He certainly wasn't going to be able to stop it himself. Nor, in truth, did he want to.

--

Hektor was feeling pleasantly tipsy. Not something he usually let himself do in public. Here with Josie though it felt safe. Fun even. He'd fallen into a pattern of refilling their glasses each time they were empty. Loosing track of how many times he'd done it in the back ground of their easy conversation. And it was easy. Talking with her, spending time with her. Gods how he'd missed this. Not that they'd ever done exactly this before.

And it was hard to focus on anything but her, especially when she'd moved to his desk. Moved to lean on her knees so their gaze lined up. So the hours ticked by without him really noticing. It wasn't till her comment about leaving that he glanced up at the clock. The smile he'd had from her giggle that had followed her comment about her drunkenness slipped at his surprise at how late it was. He felt more than saw her stumble. His body reacting before his tipsy brain had caught what was happening. But he'd only just caught her, still leaving them mere inches away. The memory of the last time they'd been this close flickered across his mind and he could stop his gaze dipping to her lips momentarily. He cleared his throat before replying, his gaze now safely back to her eyes. Though now it was there he wasn't so sure that was safer. "Don't worry about it,"

Helping her upright, he stood up himself. "Maybe you should stay here tonight. My apartment I mean, it's upstairs," he said, gazing down at her. "Only the dodgy taxi's will be out this late and neither of us is in a state to drive," and maybe he wasn't quite ready to say goodbye. Maybe he rather liked the idea of her being her in the morning. "You can take my bed, I'll sleep on the couch,"

[turbo-enid]

I think one of the biggest things that make me homicidal is when my mother walks away and shuts the door while I'm talking.

[anantaru]

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ hot things he does — love and deepspace

synopsis. hot things he does while doing it

including. zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb

warnings. fem! reader, oral (fem! receiving), fingering, cockwarming, dry humping, dirty talk, tit play, brat taming, petnames used: sweetheart, baby

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ zayne + holding your body like he owns it

from what you've gathered, zayne always starts obsessing over your mouth while being in you first— his thumb carefully resting on your lip, tilting your face up like he's examining something delicate, quite precious, his darling, his life.

naturally, your cheeks rise in temperature beneath his grip, your skin dewy with sweat and pheromones and the way he looks at you was just so steady it made your belly twist tight. yet zayne doesn't need to say a lot, in fact, he doesn't have to, he just keeps his eyes locked on yours forevermore, watching every flicker of your lashes, every shiver that rolls down your spine as his cock pushes in with slow, thick and dragging thrusts, making you feel the strong tremors in your thighs.

"you feel that, you feel me?" he asks huskily, but not gentle, you notice there was something seething beneath it, something tight, like it took him insane effort not to filthily fuck into you, "that shake in your legs, fuck, you can take it all like that for me? thats not fair, is it?" as you shake your head frantically at him, skin flustered when he smirks at you.

"that's your body giving in, you know?" and then he starts, thrusts after thrusts, hard and deep all the way in, hips sharp and pelvis grinding against your overstimulated clit with every goddamn drag— and in this situation, all you could really do was sob and twitch as zayne catches your noises with his palm on your mouth, still holding your face, making you look at him.

the way he fills you to the brim was nerve racking, the way every inch of his pulses like he's aching to come, but won't, not until you do as his thumb finds your clit and rubs fast circles through the protective skin of it, too intense yet you needed more when he just moaned out your name, loving your frame jerking under him, all from overstimulation and burning want.

"that's what i want baby," zayne grunts, voice fraying around the edges, "that exact sound, that exact fucking look," as a deep groan claws out of him when you tighten around his length, his hips snapping forward when you do it again.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier + becomes controlling over your pleasure

xavier doesn't touch you the way normal men touch, you see, there's no rush to his movements— no hunger on the surface as his breath remained even and his hands steady, his voice staying clinical as he sits at the foot of the bed, one hand pressed flat to your trembling inner thigh while the other disappears between your legs, fingers curling in filling strokes.

he watches the way your stomach flinches, the ripple of your thighs when he presses just a little deeper and the way your hips buck, chasing friction like instinct, and then jolt back in shame when you realize how carefully he's observing your entire frame.

"don't look away, you hear me," xavier's voice spills out like cold metal dragged across skin, remaining glacial at its core, "i want you to see what i see, how you fall apart for me, how you spasm every time i do this—" as he crooks his fingers again, making you choke on your breath as your toes curl, your cunt clamping down around him with a squelch so obscene it makes your whole body jerk upwards.

"you're soaked baby, fuck, have been for minutes, i've barely done anything," xavier's gaze alone pins you down, fierce and unblinking as his jaw ticks once— like he's bracing himself for the ruin he's about to make of you, "—and yet, you're trembling like i've fucked you raw."

well, okay, lets be honest here— you are trembling, in fact, your thighs just won't stop twitching even if you focus on them very hard.

the heat was just too much— sickly sweet and humiliating, a swelling ache that lived in your belly and climbed higher every time he curled his fingers up and rubs, fuck, you're soaking the sheets, desperately so, your slick dripping down his wrist and touching him up— quite hilarious, wasn't it? if you consider that xavier still hasn't even taken his shirt off yet.

you try to reach down and press his hand deeper into your cunt to find any friction on your clit, to relieve this maddening, building pressure that's leaving your vision white at the edges, yet his other hand shoots out— clamping around your wrist with enough strength to make you wince.

"don't," he says softly, but the warning inside was unmistakable, "don't, you're not allowed to interfere,"

you sob out his name in high tunes as your stomach tightens when he adds another finger, thighs shaking violently, you want, no, need, to have him closer, perhaps even have his tongue stroke through your hole to chase that spark building behind your ribs, but he won't let you.

"it's more interesting when you're desperate," xavier admits bluntly, withdrawing his fingers for a second— watching the way your cunt clenches around nothing, trying to hold onto digits, fluttering from the emptiness.

after waiting for a little, he slips them back in slowly, dragging them along your soaked walls, watching you flinch and twitch and cry out for him— and that's what ultimately made it worse, because xavier knows, he knows exactly how your body worked, exactly what it needed to cum, and he's purposely giving you just less than enough.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel + needs to cookwarm you

understandably, rafayel was panting even before he pushed himself into you, yet when he finally did— it's slow, thick, shivering with restriction which didn't last, "oh fuck," his adams apple bobs as he chokes on his spit, his head dropping against your shoulder with his voice hoarse of disbelief, "you're so tight, baby, so warm, you feel—" the man cannot even finish, truly, he can't.

his breath hitches instead, hips jerking deeper as rafayel curses again and again, low and against your neck, like each inch of you that swallowed him was tearing the sanity from his bones. he bottoms out once, twice, fucking into you faster to switch and choose between the perfect rhythm as he finally settles his entire shaft inside you, his body shuddering like he's about to cum then and there.

because the moment he fit his entire length in you, you clench around him furiously— tight and fluttering, pulsing with that needy ache as his mouth drops open with a broken gasp, "don't do that," he begs, barely above a whisper, "don't fucking squeeze like that— I'll fucking lose it," as he leans over you, forearms bracketing your head and forehead pressed to yours, hips twitching in shallow motions because even the smallest shift made you both cry out into each others lips.

"can i stay like this, baby?" he kisses along your jaw, "see how good we fit, how full you are, you're holding onto me like you never want me to leave," and then he thrusts up, fathomless and without restriction before dragging himself out just enough to feel the strong stretch of you, then sliding right back to the hilt— where he then stays, twitching inside with a sound closer to a sob than a moan.

you were so full at this point— achingly so, you could feel every vein of him, every curl and turn, the way his cock throbbed inside you like it's your own heartbeat as your legs shake around his waist from how heavy it made you feel, how close it made you too, fuck, how tight it got when your body flinched from the overwhelming pulses of him inside.

your stomach knots as your breath stutters, drinking in his moans again— helplessly kissing him as he completely took over your body, "can't even think about pulling out—" his hips move again, this time faster, barely pulling himself back, the drag of his cock so intense your back instantly arched from it, sparks flashing behind your eyes.

his hips slam deep, once, twice— and he's gone, voice catching as he releases with brutal force, cock pulsing as he comes inside you, deep, hot, thick, all of it, yeah? so much it spills back out with the next thrust— and still, he doesn't stop.

"again," he pants, "i'm not done, i'm not done, need you to keep me inside, don't let me go, don't let me fucking go—" rafayel kisses you, like he's trying to fuse into you, believing that if he can keep your cunt around his dripping dick long enough, he'll never have to leave.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus + obsessed with your tits

as one might expect, sylus doesn't even get your clothes off properly nor doesn't care if they tear, he's practically panting as he pulls your top down, lips already brushing hot over your chest before he even gets a full look, "fuck, fuck, you're so—" his breath hits your doused skin, his eyes wild and pupils blown, voice slurred like he's drunk on the barest sight of you, "you don't know what you do to me, you don't know how long i've thought about this."

then his mouth hits your tits and it's instantly wet, it's hot, all of it, it's filthy too, the way he latches onto your nipple with a groan so guttural it shakes through your ribs. his tongue rolls along your tits in slow circles as his teeth scrape, and when you arched into his body, twitching from how sensitive you were, he grins, "yeah, like that, that's what i wanna see," as he palms your tits with both hands and squeezes, pushing them together so he can bury his face between them and moan, like he's drowning in them, like he wants to live there forever.

your entire frame was on fire, thighs slick with your arousal, hips grinding into air— because he hasn't even touched you there yet, sylus couldn't find time, not properly, just the drag of his thigh between yours was enough he believed, or just the occasional graze of knuckles when he shifts to kiss the other nipple.

he wants it that way as he glances down once and groans— loudly like it's hurting him to wait, "you're messing up my pants," he smirks, rutting against your leg, leaking against your skin, "just from me sucking your tits like this? look at what a mess you are baby," sylus shoves his hand between your legs, fuck, finally, right? rubbing through your soaked pussy, smearing your slick up to your clit and back down, lazy and greedy all at once, "you want more? you wanna cum just from this?"

but do not mistake him because his mouth stays at your chest the whole time, he's addicted, mouthing one nipple while his fingers sink inside, scissoring your tight hole.

your back arches instantly and you're soaked, even more now and fuck, you're overstimulated from every side, your clit aching from how close you were yet he doesn't stop sucking on your sensitive nipples, doesn't stop grinding against your thigh like a man gone mad.

"you're perfect," he gasps, "you're perfect, let me have you like this, let me watch you come with my mouth on your tits— let me feel you fucking pulse around my fingers while i suck your tits, baby," as he grunts into your skin, "i'll ruin you like this, i'll make it so every time you touch yourself, you'll think about my mouth here— my tongue, my teeth, how fucking hard i came grinding against you."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb + cannot stop praising you

"you're so good," caleb whispers to you as if he's confessing something protected, his touch weighted with awe, a worship that trembles through his fingers, slithering up your thighs, then moving over to your waist, ultimately cupping your face, "so good, baby, I can't, i can't even—"

the sentence dies on his tongue because, well, he's too busy looking, you know? at you, in fact, at where he's inside you, at the way your lips part and your body arches up every time he shoves his cock inside you greedily.

and you feel everything, caleb made sure of that— the stretch, the slip, the depth, fuck, he's thick, hot, and so careful at first— so slow it's almost cruel, each inch dragging against your walls until your hands hold onto him for dear life, chasing more, chasing him.

caleb says your name through passion— like the pleasure was too good, too deep, so insane it might break him.

he's repeatedly brushing his lips over your cheek as he thrusts just a little harder, a little further so he could stroke over your sweet spot, taking your frame through new spots of awareness, "taking me so well, you're perfect, just perfect," as his voice cracks when you clench down, "you're so fucking good, too good— i'm not strong enough for you, sweetheart, not when you feel like this."

don't be afraid because, well, caleb will stop fucking you so slow and sensually at some point, even your boyfriend had limits and couldn't push back on his pleasure for eternity.

you whimper when he begins to slide against your sweet spot again, this time faster and caleb snaps, a groan ripping out of him, needy and raw as he's suddenly fucking you like he's starved for it— like you're the only thing in the world that made sense to him, his cock hitting so impactful your ability to breathe evenly was questioned, your back remained curved, your thighs shaking with every thick drag.

"you're so warm, so tight around me— fuck, i feel you everywhere," his hands grip your waist harder, pulling you against his pelvis as he thrusts, making it purposefully more extensive, messier too so you'll make those wet, nasty sounds for him, "you're squeezing me, baby, you don't even know what you do to me—"

your skin prickles from how much he worships you whenever you were intimate with each other, how he sounds ruined with gratitude, ruined with your cunt constricting around him ever so tightly, milking him, how he looked down and watches your bodies join like it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen— your arousal and his cum spreading over your thighs, his cock glistening with every pullout as his breath stutters when he sees it, "you're making such a mess— i love it, i love you like this—"

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[reasonsforhope]

"In 2021, scientists in Guelph, Ontario set out to accomplish something that had never been done before: open a lab specifically designed for raising bumble bees in captivity. 

Now, three years later, the scientists at the Bumble Bee Conservation Lab are celebrating a huge milestone. Over the course of 2024, they successfully pulled off what was once deemed impossible and raised a generation of yellow-banded bumble bees. 

The Bumble Bee Conservation Lab, which operates under the nonprofit Wildlife Preservation Canada, is the culmination of a decade-long mission to save the bee species, which is listed as endangered under the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation...

Although the efforts have been in motion for over a decade, the lab itself is a recent development that has rapidly accelerated conservation efforts. 

For bee scientists, the urgency was necessary. 

“We could see the major declines happening rapidly in Canada’s native bumble bees and knew we had to act, not just talk about the problem, but do something practical and immediate,” Woolaver said. 

Yellow-banded bumble bees, which live in southern Canada and across a huge swatch of the United States, were once a common species.

However, like many other bee species, their populations declined sharply in the mid-1990s from a litany of threats, including pathogens, pesticides, and dramatic habitat loss. 

Since the turn of the century, scientists have plunged in to give bees a helping hand. But it was only in the last decade that Woolaver and his team “identified a major gap” in bumble bee conservation and set out to solve it. 

“No one knew how to breed threatened species in captivity,” he explained. “This is critically important if assurance populations are needed to keep a species from going extinct and to assist with future reintroductions.”

To start their experiment, scientists hand-selected wild queen bees throughout Ontario and brought them to the temperature-controlled lab, where they were “treated like queens” and fed tiny balls of nectar and pollen. 

Then, with the help of Ontario’s African Lion Safari theme park, the queens were brought out to small, outdoor enclosures and paired with other bees with the hope that mating would occur. 

For some pairs, they had to play around with different environments to “set the mood,” swapping out spacious flight cages for cozier colony boxes. 

And it worked. 

“The two biggest success stories of 2024 were that we successfully bred our focal species, yellow-banded bumble bees, through their entire lifecycle for the first time,” Woolaver said. 

“[And] the first successful overwintering of yellow-banded bumble bees last winter allowed us to establish our first lab generation, doubling our mating successes and significantly increasing the number of young queens for overwintering to wake early spring and start their own colonies for future generations and future reintroductions.”

Although the first-of-its-kind experiment required careful planning, consideration, resources, and a decade of research, Woolaver hopes that their efforts inspire others to help bees in backyards across North America. 

“Be aware that our native bumble bees really are in serious decline,” Woolaver noted, “so when cottagers see bumble bees pollinating plants in their gardens, they really are seeing something special.”"

-via GoodGoodGood, December 9, 2024

[thebibliosphere]

My husband and I were discussing how the first felon is defending the FDA and how the quality control of our food is gonna basically disappear and I proceeded to have so much anxiety about it that I didn't sleep last night. How do we prepare for this? Is there a way to make food safe at home? How can we avoid getting poisoned from the grocery store? Sorry for bringing this anxiety to your inbox but I'm exhausted and scared and I'm hoping you've come up with food safety tips what with your general food complications.

I’m afraid I don’t have a solution for something of this scale and am just as equally terrified, but that said:

Check your local state regulations. Some states actually have strict testing that the FDA when it comes to certain things like milk. See if they are listing any recalls.

Stop eating things raw for the foreseeable future. Wash and cook everything thoroughly, even if the bag claims it’s pre-washed, wash it again. Cooking will also help eliminate any remaining pathogens. It means no more salads for a while but that’s okay.

For things like fruit, try to go with things that have an outer skin that can be taken off. If it requires you to cut into it with a knife, give the outer skin a scrub and rinse to reduce the chances of your knife being contaminated by anything like e-coli and then contaminating the insides by cutting it up.

For fruit that can’t be peeled, make sure to inspect and wash them thoroughly. If you are immunocompromised like me, consider cooking it down into a jam or pie filling to reduce further risk. Not as fun as eating it fresh for some people, but it’s a valid way of still getting the flavor and nutrients.

For things like milk, only drink pasteurized and ultra pasteurized. Try to get pasteurized eggs if you can too.

If you don’t have a meat thermometer, now is the time to get one. Make sore everything is cooked to its required internal temperature. For poultry, the recommended temperature is 165°F (74°C), while for beef and pork, the recommended temperature is 145°F (63°C) with a 3-minute rest time. Ground meats should be cooked to 160°F (71°C). Eggs should be cooked until the yolk is set. No more runny egg yolks for a bit until we get a competent source of information back about bird flu.

For things like flour, try to go for reputable brands that have their own independent testing facilities for things like gluten. They also usually test for other things and clean their facilities thoroughly. My go to is King Arthur atm.

Also, stop eating raw cookie dough if you’re not going to toast the flour in the oven first. That’s how a lot of people get sick, not necessarily from the raw egg, though stop eating raw egg right now if you do. Again, bird flu. [Addendum] I learned the flour trick in a job I used to work, but apparently, the pre-defunded FDA didn't think toasting the flour made it safe, so maybe just don't eat raw cookie dough. And I know someone's going to be a cunt in the notes like "I don't care I do what I want" good for you, hope saying that made you feel better.]

This is a dwindling possibility with the tariffs but try to buy food imported from other countries that still have food quality control. I get my masa harina from a small company that imports directly from Colombia. They can’t afford the gluten free label required to be classified as such in the USA, but considering Cheerios in the USA can afford to buy that label and the celiac foundation certification logo and still routinely sells contaminated produce due to not using gluten free oats and a mechanical sorting system that can’t be certified gluten free (1) (2) (3), I’m more inclined to go with other countries labeling right now.

With clean water under threat, use a filter for your drinking water. We currently use the ones by Life Straw. They don’t fit into your faucet but the LS filters are better than most of the ones that can be attached that way and the housing of the jugs and countertop filters are easy to clean. Make sure you do so once a week and change the filters as directed.

Most of this is just basic food hygiene stuff combined with what it’s like to be immunocompromised, but it’s always worth repeating in case someone didn’t know, but especially worth repeating right now with all our rules and regulating bodies going out the window 😞

[deebris]

Save you from yourself

Silco (from Arcane) x Wife reader

Synopsis: The tender moment between you and your daughter, Jinx, is interrupted by your sudden fainting, and Silco takes control of the situation.

Warnings: Fainting, self-neglect, based on real symptoms of dehydration, the reader is a motherly figure for Jinx, and Silco is somewhat possessive in the end, angst with fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

Zaun tonight was surprisingly quiet. For the first time in a long time, you could hear the water flowing through the windows of your room, and a cool breeze carried the scent of your daughter’s freshly washed hair through the corners. It was an incredibly comforting moment to care for her blue locks; it always brought an inexplicable peace to your mind. You really needed it after the exhausting day you had.

The affection that surrounded those moments, with both of you sitting on your bed, gently running your fingers through her strands and laughing at how Jinx always ended up sleepy, warmed your heart. But tonight, that warmth felt strange and discomforting. You tried to ignore a sudden dizziness and the chills, keeping the window open as you brushed through her long hair to continue braiding it. Was tiring work, but you loved.

“Is it going to take much longer?” she asked impatiently, something you had already expected. Complaining about the time was part of Jinx, but you took it with indifference.

“I’m almost halfway,” you tried to reassure her with a gentle, maternal tone, something she liked. “Just this one left.”

“Ugh, I hate when it takes so long,” she grumbled irritably, throwing herself back into your lap. Her movement made your hands lose the strands, messing up part of what you had done.

“Jinx!” you called her name, annoyed, but softened when you felt her cling to you even tighter, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in your belly. Her body started warming yours even more, pushing the cold away, and you stayed silent, appreciating the closeness.

“Can we do it later?” she asked in a low voice, almost needy. Jinx had a thing with physical contact; it was something she appreciated when it came from the right people. That’s why she was now closing her eyes while you stroked her cheek and the side of her head.

“It’s going to be harder to fix,” you tried to argue, struggling with the duality of wanting to stay cuddled with her or return to the hard work of finishing her hair.

“You’re warm,” she murmured, and you couldn’t see, but she furrowed her brow, feeling your body temperature against her pressed cheek.

“I think so,” your whisper came without weight, not caring about the statement. Or maybe you just didn’t have the strength to think properly anymore.

You felt drained, and your daughter had noticed your lack of energy when she took your hand to play with your fingers, interlacing them in a sort of waltz but seeing how you barely reacted to her movements, letting her have fun on her own. And you always used to play along.

“Let me finish,” you asked with much effort, confused by the new sign of your condition that had just emerged: a sharp pain in your forehead. But it wasn’t common for you to get headaches.

Luckily, Jinx obeyed without further rebellion. She stood up to allow you to finish what you had started. She pulled her legs up to her chest on the bed, pouting with a dissatisfied expression while she felt you place the golden pins.

When you had just finished braiding, your fingers fell, sliding down the braid’s length, as if keeping your arms raised for just one more second was extremely difficult. And it was.

Your dizziness worsened, leaving your limbs weak, and now you couldn’t avoid feeling a hint of nervousness as your breathing became irregular, along with the dryness in your throat.

“My love, can you close the window?”

Your request alarmed Jinx, who turned toward your voice but not enough to look directly at you. Hesitant, she stood up, and when she returned, a look of confusion took over her face.

“What...?” The word got stuck as she quickly approached, placing one hand on your back and the other on your shoulder. “What’s going on?” Her desperate tone cut through you like a blade, filling your chest with guilt.

“I... I think I’m not feeling well.” You tried to hold back the tears, but your trembling voice betrayed the effort. Just a few tears fell, as if they had run out, and the pain in your muscles and joints, which had started as a discomfort in the morning, had become unbearable. The discomfort had been easy to ignore before, but now it seemed impossible to divert your attention from it.

You hadn’t paid much attention to the dizziness that had disrupted your day, but sitting for a moment seemed to amplify all the symptoms. Maybe they had always been there, silently growing, until they reached this point.

“Say something!” Jinx’s voice sounded choked, pulling you out of the haze. You tried to open your eyes, but it was hard. She was scared—you could feel it in the way her hands trembled as she held your face. She shook you gently, the urgency clear in every movement. “Don’t close your eyes!” she screamed, her voice breaking as darkness overtook your vision.

When consciousness started to return, you opened your eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the dimness of the room. A faint light illuminated the room enough for you to realize you were lying down, now wrapped in a blanket. Your hearing seemed muffled, as if you were submerged, but amid the confusing sounds, Silco’s voice emerged.

He was calling for Jinx, trying to calm her. “Jinx, listen,” he repeated, his voice deep and firm, but filled with concern. His tone seemed to seek her attention, trying to contain the emotional storm that was overwhelming the girl. “Jinx, I told you it is fine. It is nothing serious.”

Silco’s deep voice, usually so controlled, was now filled with a disturbance he could barely disguise. As he spoke, he repeated those words mentaly, as if trying to convince not only her but also himself that this was just a temporary illness.

“B-but...” Her voice broke, and the rest of the words got stuck in her throat. Jinx seemed unable to look directly at her father; her eyes nervously scanned the room, searching for an answer where there was none. “She... she just suddenly got like this.”

“Was not sudden, Jinx.” Silco took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “We just did not notice before.” He adjusted his tone, seeking a firmness he didn’t feel, hoping to convey some confidence. “It is common. People get sick all the time. She will be fine.”

He continued, repeating the words like a mantra, silently praying they were true.

“Do you promise?” Jinx’s question came loaded with urgency, almost like an ultimatum.

Silco hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard at the weight of that word. Promising meant more than just reassuring her; it meant banishing any possibility of loss or failure. He knew he couldn’t say “yes” lightly, but he also couldn’t imagine denying that reassurance to his daughter.

His gaze shifted behind him, seeking your figure lying down. When he noticed you trying to sit up, despite visible effort, Silco felt an unexpected relief. It was a sign, even if small, that gave him the strength to respond firmly.

“I promise.” His voice came low but firm, as he squeezed Jinx’s shoulders, trying to convey a security he could barely feel.

Jinx followed her father’s gaze, and upon seeing you move, her behavior shifted instantly. With the frantic energy characteristic of her, she ran to you.

“Calm down!” Silco tried to call to her, but she was already on top of you.

You, however, were lost in confusion. Your mind felt like a blur, and the unbearable weight on your eyelids made it impossible to react or understand what was happening. The last thing you felt was Jinx’s hesitant touch, quickly replaced by the touch of calloused hands, before everything went dark again.

Silco watched as your eyes opened and closed again, what seemed like the thousandth time that night. It was as if you were waging a battle against your own consciousness and body, trying to hold onto reality as it slipped through your fingers.

He hadn’t slept. He had spent the night by your side, patiently waiting for that moment when you would finally wake up for real. Making sure you didn’t hurt yourself with the needle stuck to your wrist, connecting you to the IV that kept your body hydrated, had been an exhausting task. Every time you briefly stirred, it seemed like you were compelled to move your arms, as if testing your own strength, and he found himself forced to intervene.

“I thought you were going to pass out again,” he murmured, his voice low and strangely gentle, something rare coming from him. He carefully placed his hand on your forehead, checking the fever that, to his relief, was starting to subside.

“What do I have?” you asked, the words coming out slowly as your mind pieced together recent memories and adjusted to your surroundings.

Silco let out a long sigh, somewhere between irritation and relief. The corner of his lips curved into a dry smile, as if he found the situation so absurd it was almost comical, yet no less serious.

“You spent the whole day without drinking water.” His voice carried a hint of exasperation and he carefully brushed away the hair that was sticking to your face. “Dehydration. How, for the love of everything, did you not feel thirsty?”

His question was genuine, a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, feeling small and stupid under his analytical gaze.

Silco didn’t say anything more right away. Instead, his eyes studied you for a moment longer than necessary before he leaned back in the chair next to the bed.  

“Whatever the reason, this will not happen again,” he declared firmly, his voice carrying a tone almost possessive as he crossed his arms, as if imposing his will on the universe itself.

“Sorry,” you said, the weakness still evident in your voice, but there was also a trace of embarrassment, making your words almost a whisper.

He watched you in silence, his gaze fixed as you stared at the pillow. Even pale and visibly fragile, you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever known. The soft moonlight illuminated your face, highlighting a few strands of your hair, and in that moment, something inside him softened. The hard expression he always carried melted away, replaced by a rare tranquility—a surrender to the simple relief of seeing you there, breathing.

You saw the IV, something Singed must have done, and noticing it was almost empty, Silco carefully leaned forward to remove the needle. His movements were almost methodical, but there was an uncommon tenderness. His fingers slid lightly over the skin of your wrist before touching the catheter, and that seemingly small gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if, in that touch, he wanted to send you a message: I’m here, and I will be gentle.

“Jinx will be on your case the whole week,” he stated casually, though his tone was firm, as if warning you about your foolishness that caused all this.

You laughed, the weakness in your voice softened by the playful tone. “I can handle it.”

Slowly, you pulled his fingers, as an invitation for him to come closer. Silco accepted without hesitation, climbing onto the bed beside you. He positioned himself behind you, wrapping his body around you in an embrace that, though silent, carried a desperate intensity.

His hands tightened around your waist, the fingers interlacing as if he feared that if let go, you might slip away. The warmth of Silco’s breath brushed against your neck, bringing with it the scent of the cigars he always smoked. On anyone else, or in any other situation, the smell would have been overpowering, almost repulsive, but from him, there was something strangely comforting about it. It was a subtle reminder that, despite everything, he was there—solid, present, and, above all, familiar.

Silco squeezed your waist tighter, his deep voice cutting through the silence, almost a controlled growl as he whispered against your ear:

“Do you really think you will achieve something important if you forget the basics? Forget to drink water, to take care of yourself… That is not just foolishness, it is pure recklessness.”

He held you close, his eyes wandering to a distant point in the room, as if searching for something to focus on, while trying to make you understand the weight of his words. Silco knew you had this habit of putting yourself second, neglecting your own needs for what you thought was more urgent or important.

“Stop putting yourself at risk like this,” he continued, his voice firmer, “or I woll not have any choice but to take care of everything.”

His voice, cold and incisive, sounded almost like an attempt at humor, but you knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t one for jokes. Silco didn’t care for casual remarks, and the lightness in his tone was just a mask for the frustration he felt. You worried so much about not overburdening him that you ended up ignoring your own well-being, making his biggest concern a reality: he would have to carry the weight for you.

“I take care of you… even if I have to save you from yourself,” he whispered, almost like a mantra. The words were both a promise and a necessity. He was speaking to himself, trying to reaffirm his own position, and you didn’t dare interrupt him. You just cuddled closer to his body, feeling the warmth and firmness of his words as a protection that, somehow, also felt like a prison.

[cathnospam]

Showers with Katsuki are almost always domestic until it’s not and it’s your fault.

Your blondie is actually very comfortable in his skin with you, he doesn’t mind walking around in your room naked even if it’s to grab the towel he definitely left on your bed on purpose in front of you.

You’ve seen his dick so much you could practically draw it from memory.

But the main reason you’ve seen him naked so many times is because you and him almost always take a shower together.

“C’mon.” Is all he says when he takes your hand into the misty bathroom, shower already on scalding hot just how you both love it.

It’s giggling and scrubbing until it’s your turn to scrub him.

“Turn around, boo.” You tap his shoulder, he does so, trying to relax his body, but also flexing in the process. His back was such a sight to see.

He’s gotten so much bigger since graduating and his waist just can’t get any smaller, you can’t help but your bite your lips when your eyes lock onto his body.

Especially his very cute ass you really wanna poke, but you’d probably get cussed out in German.

Almost worth it.

Instead you scrub him, humming and throwing up compliments that makes him blush everytime.

“Shut up.”

“What I’m just saying…I’m happy you’re all mine. A girl can’t appreciate her man?”

“Yeah yeah. Right here too.” He points at his other shoulder blade, you get in your tippy toes to reach and leave a kiss on his ear, your cold soft lips dragged a chill down his spine, it was practically a warning sign for what’s to be asked next of him.

And he didn’t mind it even if he acted like he did.

“C’mon…” His voice has no bark in it, almost as if he’s being sarcastic, “We have to be up in the morning, N/N.”

“I know i just…” You puncture every other word with a kiss, your slippery soapy hands exploring his abs from the front, “Wanna make you feel good.”

Your words dripping with lust like honey, your hands do most of the speaking when you take hold of his soft shaft and stroke up to under his tip to down to cup his balls. You knew he was sensitive there, you giggle a kiss on his back again when he grunts.

“You’re a piece of shit.”

“Uh huh.” Brushing his comment off, you already knew you had him, so you pick up the pace, one hand on his dick the other massaging his balls made him lean in the cold tile shower wall with one arm, “Baby—ugh— Y/N!”

Bakugo hates calling you anything other than your name or nickname, but it sometimes slips off the tongue when he’s completely getting lost in your touch, “Ganna—-fucking cum dammit—!”

“Then…” Letting go of him you firmly turn him around to have his back on the wall and he looks down at your figure on your knees, “Do it in my mouth.”

Words could not describe how much he wanted to fuck you silly right now. For you to turn him on this much when he just wanted to take a simple shower and then cuddle in bed with you and talk about your day because he missed you, you just had to turn it into something else.

And he still loved you for it.

You take it slow, holding your breath to slide all 7.5 inches down your mouth, he wasn’t also long, but girthy too. He knew this which is why he didn’t always let you suck his dick, your pretty little mouth shouldn’t be sore because of him…even if it was hot to see your eyes prickle with tears to take him all in.

“Shit.” He threw his hand on his face, the temperature of the water suddenly got hotter and steamier, his hair was down, but reverting back to its natural wavy state feeling how warm and tight your mouth was around him, it was ALMOST as good as fucking you.

Almost.

You felt yourself get more aroused hearing your blondie surprise his moans and whimpers terribly, he hated hearing himself, but you couldn’t get enough, he felt a knot forming in his tummy. Throwing his hand on your scalp he bucks his hips with caution back at you and you let him have at you and take full control.

When he notices you were giving him full access to use you he still never did. He never enjoyed the thought of just using you like a fuck toy even if his body was showing something completely different, he thrusted quickly inside your throat until he held you still, groaning and moaning your name while your hands clawed his thighs, “Fuck!—-“

Bakugo lets go to catch his breath and help you up to kiss you, it was hungry and sloppy, you didn’t even completely finish swallowing all of his semen when he swallowed some of it himself while sucking on your tongue, he didn’t fucking care he just needed to show his appreciation.

And he did when he lifted your legs around his waist, you always seem to be so shocked when your man can pick you up with ease, no matter your weight, and he didn’t mind proving his strength from how he fucked you with hot steamy water hitting your chest and in the bed.

You love showering with Bakugo <3