#that i do a good job of breaking down this stuff and should teach it? so i hope thats true..

[flockofdoves]

i always go on about wanting everyone to get into black sails but actually when it comes down to it maybe i just want everyone in the world to get into phonetics and phonology so we can get into the weird minutiae of dialectal variation and speech production and our personal experiences thereof in day to day conversations together. its literally so cool

[mudisgranapat]

FitnessInfluencer!Reader x GymBro!Ghost

so i’ve recently really gotten into going to the gym and i can’t stop thinking about Ghost working out and reader being an annoying influencer that is always recording at the gym. the last thing he needs is a camera in his face when he is trying to work out and de-compress from his deployment.

After finally finding a 24 hour gym, you get your things ready to film your content. Your youtube channel is one of the most popular nowadays, and it’s the platform where you make most of your videos. Most of them teach people workout series, ranging from stuff they can do at home, hardcore exercises and even a step to step guide on how to use each gym equipment, so newbies don’t get scared of training for the first time by themselves. However, sometimes, you do some vlogging on the side, showing your daily routine and other things, like skincare.

You figure 3 am is a good time to go to the gym and record - no one is at training by then and your schedule is already fucked anyways. Not having an office or regular work hours has its ups and downs, but at least you are in charge of own routine, since you make a surprisingly good amount of money from your videos.

You take your own time, making a protein smoothie (and obvioulsy recording it, as you had a paid partnership with the supplement’s brand) and writing down your ideas for the video you want to do today. You stick to a simple “leg day” vlog, typing on your phone what machines and reps you want to do.

Choosing a simple purple top and matching leggings, you make your way towards the gym on your Range Rover, Stanley cup filled with water on the cup holder. You roll your eyes as you make a turn and can feel the water dripping out of the cup. You make a note to yourself to bring a water bottle the actually works next time and keep it off camera, so the useless cup can just sit on frame for aesthetic purposes while your record.

If you had to point out one thing you hated about your job, it would be having to keep up with all the (in your opinion, useless) trends, so you could reach a bigger audience. At the end of the day, it was about making money, although you loved how your content got to inspire people to be more active. If it meant you had to carry a metal 40oz lead poisoned cup with you for a couple of hours, then so be it.

As soon as you park your car at the gym’s empty parking lot, you pull out your vlog camera, not noticing the single black truck parked in the far corner, under a tree.

Sometimes you wonder if you would hate your “vlog persona” if you met her in real life. Repeating the same phrases over and over again, trying to get the best take, constantly looking for better lighting. What looks good on camera, in real life, just looks painfully awkward sometimes, specially when you are talking to an audience that isn’t even there. You push those thoughts to the back of your head, as you slide your card at the gym’s card reader, opening the doors.

“Anyways, guys. I know it sounds crazy right?” You make your way into the gym, re-recording the introduction at least 3 times so you know you’ll have good material to edit later. “Training at 3 a.m. I don’t even know if it’s technically morning or night right now.” You joke to the camera. “Let me know in the comments if I should start the videos with ‘Good morning’ or ‘Goodni’-“ a hand suddenly grabs the camera from your hand, holding it right above your head. You stare at the man who seemed to materialise out of the shadows.

“How about ‘Goodbye’.” He says, and you barely have time to register his sarcasm as he slams your camera on the floor, breaking it in pieces. You stand there, frozen, while the man swings his duffel bag over his shoulders and heads out of the gym.

When you finally regain your senses, he is long gone, and you’re left wondering to yourself, not only who he is, but also who does he think he is. You barely had time to register what he looked like, simply recalling we was well over 6ft tall and build like a fucking tank. But regardless of his built, if he believes, even for a second, that he can do something like that and just walk away unscathed, he is dead wrong.

You can’t wait to see him again.

A.N: wrote this with my eyes literally closing, but i just couldn’t get it out of my head (sorry for any mistakes, def not proofread). hopefully it’s not complete shit. let me know if you want to see more of this! i could see this becoming either a short series or at least having one more part. Let me know if you want to be tagged if this has a part 2 :)

[keesdarlin]

☆// mine, yours (MDNI 18+)

info! 141 / fluff, established relationship (sort of) + gender neutral reader

cw! implied past self hatred, negative self image, mental health recovery, healing vibes

prompt! "i wanna be mine, wanna be yours" Mine / Yours by Wilbur Soot

notes! god i'm Really trying to not make it a habit to use wilbur soot lyrics as prompts but it's hard when they're so good please forgive me. also just as a disclaimer, the whole "you have to love yourself before you can be loved by someone else" thing is bullshit. date who you want when you want. the only thing that matters is that you actually want to get there with yourself

PRICE:

honestly, john is the king of praise and reassurance. he sees how much you struggle sometimes, especially with your faith in your skills. as a solution, he finds ways to give you lots of praise for your hard work on the side. it’s hardly in front of other recruits or, god forbid, the rest of the 141 guys, but only because he doesn’t feel like getting accused of picking favorites (even though everyone already knows anyways). besides, that praise isn’t for everyone else. it’s for you. he never gives you pointers unprompted because he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s rushing you along. he tries his best to give you the room to take things at your own pace. always asks if he can give you an idea to maybe make things easier or if he should explain something in a different way. every once in a while you have a day where whatever you’re doing is just a little bit… more than usual. a little bit more difficult, taking a little bit more time, requiring a little bit more focus than you’re used to. john spends a little bit more time with you on those days, not to babysit you or coddle you, but just to make sure that you’re feeling alright about things. when you finally get it right, he can’t help but break out in a grin with a quiet, “good job, sergeant.”

GAZ:

gaz is huge on compliments. he’s always the first one to tell you how amazing you look every day. it’s easy to struggle with loving the way you look, he knows, so he does his best to try and mitigate that. don’t get him wrong; he’s not complimenting you out of obligation or pity. he compliments you because he believes it and he wants you to believe it too. will compliment anything from your makeup (if you wear any) to your outfit to your new shoes. he just thinks you’re the shit.

kyle also puts a lot of focus on acts of service. although you’re on a journey of self love and learning how to be healthily independent rather than hyper-independent, there’s a lot of skill to build in areas where it comes to when and if you should be leaning on other people. it’s hard, he knows, but he wants to help you practice! so he watches you, surprisingly in tune with your needs, and tries to meet you halfway. it’s not that he doesn’t think that you can do it yourself. in fact, he’s certain that you can. it’s more that this is his way of helping teach you that it’s alright to accept help. he doesn’t always ask first, but he’ll do a little something when he knows you’ve had a rough day. when he sees the exhaustion that hides in the way that you roll your neck, or the way that your shoulders hike up to your ears with anxiety, or the tired sigh that leaves your lips when you finally get a chance to sit down. and it’s not always something big. usually him doing your dishes “on accident” or because he had the extra time, or making a little extra dinner for you so that you don’t have to make your own, or bringing you a glass of water even though you didn’t ask for one. he knows he doesn’t have to, he knows that you’re capable of doing all this stuff yourself, but he wants you to know that you’re not going it alone. not as long as he’s there.

SOAP:

johnny uses a lot of patience and encouragement with you, mostly in moments of frustration, and sometimes a little instruction. an aspect of the self care journey that you find yourself struggling a lot with is remembering to be patient with yourself. you can sometimes find yourself going off the rails a little bit, but soap is here to help reel you back in. without sounding patronizing, he’ll remind you to take a step back from the situation for a second, take a breath, go for a walk, whatever you need to do to zone in, and then come back after.

one day you’re down at the shooting range when the frustration hits. normally, you’re a pretty good shot, but for some reason today you can’t hit near the middle of the target for the life of you. another shot missed and you sigh sharply, barely managing to stifle the groan and curses that threaten to escape you.

“you doing alright?” soap asks from somewhere behind you.

“fine, thanks,” you mutter through clenched teeth. you don’t bother to look back at him, closing one eye as you try to focus your aim.

soap hums. steps forward, sets a gentle hand on your shoulder. you take the hint and lower your gun, huffing as you turn to look at him. “alright. you’re doing pretty well so far, but let’s take a deep breath and try it all again, aye bonnie? i’ll help.”

you roll your eyes but inhale deep anyways. soap nods as he watches your shoulders fall with the exhale. “good job, lamb. now come ‘ere. ‘m gonna help you adjust to this gun.”

GHOST:

simon doesn’t tolerate negative self-talk. you guys talked about it once, how you want to be better about being kind to yourself. sure, sometimes that can mean taking a self care day or going out for a night with some friends or sitting down and taking some time to do something intentional. but those all have the potential to be pretty time consuming. something you can do every day, all the time no matter what you might be up to is saying something nice about yourself. it’s definitely weird the first few times; you didn’t realize before how much shit you talk about yourself every day, so the new hyper-awareness is a little bit anxiety-inducing. but once you adjust to the strangeness of it, it actually starts to feel kind of nice. every time you say something kind about yourself and find yourself meaning it, a spot of pride pulses warmly in your chest. it can still be difficult sometimes. some days, when things feel a little bit darker, a little bit heavier, you find yourself insulting your mistakes and talking down to yourself. but simon is right there with you to remind you. “you wanna try that again?” he asks nonchalantly when he hears you utter a quiet ‘oof, i’m dumb.’

you blush, but nod. “yeah, sorry. uhm… i’m not dumb, i’m just distracted and i’ll do better.”

he never gives a verbal response to your self-compliments, just a nod and, if you’re lucky, a little smile.

[puppetmaster13u]

Hey who wants a small WIP for my cryptid batfam story

🦇🦜🌃🦇🦜🌃🦇🦜🌃🦇🦜🌃🦇🦜🌃🦇🦜🌃🦇🦜🌃🦇

   Bruce nodded, giving them a small smile. “Good job,” he encouraged, as the many, many parenting books had said to do. Repeatedly. “And what do you think we should do?” 

   Barbara- sorry, Batgirl- was the first to pipe up, though both practically vibrated in glee, their little wings flapping as they moved. “Take them out from above! Not let them sound the alarm, and, and, um…” 

   “I hit them from behind and Batgirl can hit them from the front! And we won’t break a lung this time!” Dick chirped, bouncing slightly. Ah. Yeah, the first few times they had gone after the same person they’d managed to do more than crack a few of the person’s ribs, which, yeah. Not a good thing. 

   Not to mention the fact that one of the first lessons he had to teach them was how to properly hide a body, or at least hide how you might be the reason behind the death. Because small children diving at someone at thirty-to-eighty miles per hour (forty-eight to one-hundred and twenty-nine kilometers per hour, he mentally translated from habit) had a habit of collapsing a lung, crushing a liver, or just snapping a neck depending on where they hit. 

   Ugh, there were no parenting books to help with things like that. 

   “Anything else?” he hummed, keeping an eye down at the gang bustling around, a few guns waving around as they turned a few flashlights towards any shadow. Not complete idiots then, but still forgetting to so much as look up. Amateurs. 

   “Let one escape so they can lead us to where they’re storing stuff if it’s not in this warehouse?” 

   “Make sure not to give one a heart attack?” 

   “Oh! Oh! Make sure not to give you a heart attack!” 

[littledigits]

That time when working in animation made me realize I needed therapy

Since we're on the topic of overworking / being passionate in animation and blah blah blah.  I want to share my story about working on the first season of Hilda (for context I was the animation director), specifically..how completely garbo my mental health got because 

I INSISTED ON WORKING MYSELF INTO THE GROUND. 

This is a story I've shared when I've had a chance to do lectures or talks, and if there is one really awesome thing that comes with ..weird ..animation clout, its that you can use those powers for good in terms of teaching people about the BS that comes with the job...anyway.

The reason why I like to talk about this is because I insisted on doing it to myself, and that was really got me thinking about the factors that do lead us into over working. Because heres the deal

Hilda season 1 was, without getting into too many details, a heckofatime...especally for the core crew. we were a small group, doing something new because most of us haven't worked on a show before that included pre production. My entire career up to that point had been working on service work for shows that were created in Burbank, so the new pipeline had a ton of challenges. We did all care, and we all believed in the project SOOOO much. I would tell people not to work over time, because I want my team to leave on time - but I was there...a lot. Leaving the studio by 11pm , working through the weekends..it wasnt an uncommon thing for me. sure , it wasnt all the time, but this stuff spans years sometimes so it went in waves. But whenever the challenges came up, i doubled down. because I super believed in it.

  And the thing was - other people told me to stop. I had a lot of valid concerns given to me by my friends and team members who saw how I was burning myself out at both ends. And I thought like, well , its my *choice*.  Its my chance to have a voice and be creative and try to do something different and we all have to push ourselves and yes its HARD but. THATS HOW YOU DO IT RIGHT? surely if I just make sure I’m the one overworking and my team isn't.. that's fine. 

Well, no, I was immensely effecting my team maybe I wasn’t telling them to work late, but they were seeing me get more and more tired and stay later and later.  I thought they would still approach me for help, or if they struggled. But the issues they had they kept to themselves without wanting to put more on my shoulders. Because they *cared* , just as much as I did ..and we all took more on our shoulders then we should have and there were a lot of things that I could have solved had I fostered a better communication environment.  I became really resentful in my head over the smallest things, I actually saw myself becoming a more hateful person and easily annoyed. I came home every day rambling about the frustrations. Now, let me preface this by saying - my mental state did not only have to do with overworking. I had and have things still to unpack, but the control I had over work and the validation I got from it was a coping mechanism for me. I really didnt think i had any worth as a person outside of this job. It basically was a very nasty cycle that didnt stop until ...well I had gotten so bad I had to.  By the end of the first season I was actually incredibly close to quitting . I was in big anxiety attack territory because I was so worn thin- I had started therapy but eventually moved onto getting medication as well and that was what allowed me to stick it out. ( I have the same therapist and I am on the same meds, it was very hard to do at the time, but i cant imagine my life now without making that choice ). After it was done I was immensely supported by the studio and worked part time as a trainer, which is what i requested to give my brain a break. (Only a few of my closer friends knew how bad I was getting but it was pretty obvious I needed to rest) I'm really proud of the work we did and we keep doing on the show, ..and some other people may have gone through something similar and found it was worth it, but thats not me. I still struggle not to fall back into that mindset, but it helps knowing that if i keep myself out of it , i can help my team out of it, because I know they care about this show just as much as I do. I’m not a martyr, I am a leader, and its up to me to keep myself healthy so I can keep my crew healthy.   I always strive to be better, but i get to decide what that looks like - and for me ..better has nothing to do with the image on the screen. Its got more to do with the experience of the people around me. Readjusting those priorities has helped a lot with keeping my head above water and not add to the pressure that makes it so hard not to get sucked down in the first place.  I do think its good to talk about though , how our passion and language and drive can lead to a lot of us being a part of this cycle. And if theres one good thing about the challenges, its sharing them so at least others can learn faster then you did ;) . take care of yourself friends.

[gentrychild]

5 headcanons game: DFO AU where Izuku is a Yakuza boss and anonymously makes deals with AFO

Aaaaaaaaaaand we get another AU where Inko is Pops' adopted daughter.

1.A - So, before Pop's bio daughter left, Chisaki was itching to get more power in the organization. He had plans. He had ideas. But Pops, who has been around long enough, laughs in his face when he starts saying he has plans to destroy the top 5 villains in order to ressurect the yakuza. So the plan was to put Pops in a coma, proves that Chisaki was right, then wakes Pops up so he could see it.

1.B - Chisaki gets his quirk stolen exactly two days later.

1.C - This is pandemonium for the yakuza. Their leader is in a coma. Their leader-in-second is quirkless and having a mental breakdown. Every two-bits villain us hunting them down for sport now that they are weakened. Even the boss' daughter just left! And left her daughter behind, claiming that little Eri had killed her dad even though everyone in the neighborhood knows that Eri's dad has been trying to leave the mafia princess for years but was too scared of what the yakuza would do to him if he did.

2.A - Desperate, they go towards the one who left the nest and never look back. Inko is NOT happy to see twenty yakuza invading her tiny apartment. Her husband knows nothing about her past life! (She conveniently forgets the massive tattoos hidden under her cardigans every time she claims that.) She is just a normal housewife! (Please, pay no mind to the metal needles hidden all over the house.) They must leave now before her son comes back from school! (Izuku has been here for the past ten minutes but can't get home because a bunch of yakuza are blocking the way.)

2.B - "HELP US!" the yakuza cry. "NO!" Inko screams back. "Why don't you do [many illegal stuff a middle student should not know]? Hypothetically speaking.

2.C - Long story short, Izuku started helping the yakuza because he is good at it. "I am leading them away from a criminal life!" he claims. "And yes, sometimes, they break people's legs but only when the others started it!"

3 - You have to understand that Izuku's school life is not great, his mom is worried about him because of the whole quirkless thing and he runs away from his problems by 100% investing himself in the yakuza thing. They have an important job in the ecosystem! They might be assholes but they give stability to areas where heroes don't patrol! It has two, in my opinion, consequences: A. Chisaki is working for Izuku and hating every second of it. B. Izuku keeps getting money by blocking some of AFO's activities.

4 - AFO is losing his mind. He knows that the yakuza have a new boss who is devilishly good at their job but he can't find who? He fought this was Pops but the guy is in a coma?(He checked.) Then, he thought becoming quirkless had made Chisaki smarter? (It didn't.) Every time he is close from finding the thorn in his side, they disappear! It's even worse than tracking an OFA holder!

5 - This is an AU where Chisaki slightly gets his head out of his ass. When he sees Eri and realizes the other morons are the only thing between the toddler and a certain death, he more or less adopts her. He doesn't even like the idea of being a dad but someone made a comment about him not being good at it (Izuku, it was Izuku), so now, he must prove them wrong.

+ 1 - AFO almost manage to grab the secret yakuza boss but not only does the little shot bites him before he escapes but he somehow manages to steal a quirk from him.

+ 2 - Izuku now has Overhaul. Chisaki is furious.

+ 3 - Izuku is terrible at using Overhaul. (Great at destroying stuff, not even passably good at putting them back together.) Chisaki must teach him how to use the quirk. He is even more furious.

+ 4 - A blond skeleton passes out in the neighborhood and wakes up in a house full of yakuza. He is promptly adopted, even by the little one? Which he then learns is their boss? He kinda wants to explain this is a misunderstanding but he is invited to the Sunday cook-outs and he can hang out with them and it's kinda nice?

[poetryinsilence]

Noughts and Crosses - Jake "Hangman" Seresin x childhood friend!reader (part I)

A/n: THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND PTSD/TRAUMA STUFF! No bullshit reader, like literally does not take Jake’s bullshit. Frenemies to lovers cuz why not🤷 So, so much cheese that’s pretty much a fondue. I've written this with the perspective of Jake rather than Hangman so expect a lot of raw emotion. Uh, strong language, character trauma/hurt but mostly, mostly fluff. No beta-read, I’m going in raw.

Synopsis: 4:45 pm. You saw him lay there, half alive and looking like a cartoon character that’s been rolling down a rugged slope and crashed at the bottom with a loud cymbal sound. With deep crimson cuts on his shabby face but still good-looking as a Greek god's statue. He was supported with a neck brace attached to his neck, arm plastered for his own stability and matching with a leg cast extended up his right limb. Chest heaves with each breath he takes from his life support and exhales with shivers of pain. Jake's eyelids strain open to peek at you hovering 3 feet away from him with a deep crease on your forehead. You grumble.

"What in the ever-loving fuck happened to you?"

Wc: 2,630

Part II part III part IV

Approximately an hour and a half ago, the rush of foot tapping was part of your daily segments at the animal shelter you ceaselessly worked for the past 4 years. Tending animals was your dream job. At least that's what you wanted to do from a very young age; running around with furry animals to your heart’s desire. And working at an animal shelter happens to be the closest thing to what you had in your mind, but with a greater purpose of finding them a forever home. It's much better than dealing with sporadic humans who barely understand English and the universal language of 'no'.

No, animals are much better than that. They're easy to teach and have mannerisms, and they will always be your friend. So, in what scenario could you be in to get yourself stuck in this sticky situation?

Several phone calls from an unknown number.

Though you should’ve known better not to answer phone numbers you are unfamiliar with. But no, you had to poke holes at your curiosity and answer some strange number displayed on the screen of your phone.

"Hello, is this y/n?"

"Yes, this is y/n speaking...who's this?"

"Hello ma'am, we're calling from the Naval Medical Centre about Jake Seresin. You were listed as his medical emergency contact. Unfortunately, ma'am, he's been—"

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you say Jake Seresin? And, emergency contact?!"

"Yes, ma'am. He got into an accident today in regards to his ejection from his aircraft. It is a protocol for us to contact his next of kin in case of emergencies."

"I'm sorry, did I catch that right? His next of kin? I'm sorry, but you must have got that wrong, I'm not related to him—"

"Ma'am I'm just following protocols, it states clearly here that you're the one to contact in case of emergencies. Could you please come down to the Naval Medical Centre—"

"No, I think you must have gotten something wrong. We haven't kept in contact for over 20 years. You should contact his family in Texas—"

"We'll see you soon ma'am" the line clicks.

"Wait!" you yell before retreating to a defeated sigh.

Out of the blue, a name you haven't heard of in years decided to pop back out from the depths of the Earth's crust, and one you are well familiar with. Jake Seresin. Your childhood 'friend'. More like terror. You were not given the option to become friends with him. It just so happens your mothers were lifelong friends long before you were born, yet somehow they thought 'wouldn't it be great to give birth at the same time and let our kids be friends like we were?' Sad to say, it was not great.

From the early stages of your life, you knew Jake was a prankster. The one that makes your life and the kids at school miserable. The things he does that made you wonder if he really was just Satan’s spawn reincarnated to Earth just to spite you.

So, why then, would you be getting into your shoddy, on the edge of breaking down Yugo 65 and ramming down traffic because of one shitty phone call?

The answer is: you don't know.

You got to the medical centre in just a little under 30 minutes, probably your personal best record in the first wave of the San Diego rush hour traffic and patted yourself on the back for that. Truth to be told, you were never really keen on hospitals; the antiseptic scent that stings your nose, the endless void of white glossed walls, and doctors rushing here and there with stoic faces. You could never decipher what is going on inside their mind.

The lady at the reception was nice to greet you with a sunny smile for your quickly-overturned shitty day. She had on her face one of those thick-rimmed glasses that pointed out into a cat-eye shape and paired with a brick red lipstick that complimented her sharp blue eyes. You quickly discern that she was not the same person that called you earlier, but still was well informed of your situation and directed you to your destined floor and room number.

Another reason why you did not like the hospital was that everything is treated like a maze, as though you were a hamster in one of those escape rooms, but they had a treat waiting for them at the end and yours…not so much. You ponder at the front door to the private room where your childhood friend may or may not lay in a squashed-up mush from his newly informed accident. The place card slot to the side of the frosted window had clean calligraphy written 'J. Seresin' in blue ink. You took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The machinery beeped to greet your entrance as you see Jake, resting in a half-induced dream state, probably from the side effects of the morphine. He looks peaceful; older but briefly the same as you remember and much more muscular from all those navy trainings. It's hard to imagine he was once a scrawny kid with a missing tooth, running around your backyard with his bare feet.

The door opening must have woke Jake up as his hooded lids lifted with a heavy weight and peered at you, just hovering three feet away from his bed. He gave you his best but could only produce a weak smile. However, you frown in return, with heat burning from your stomach and billions of questions flying through your mind that condensed into one:

"What in the ever-loving fuck happened to you?"

That earned a croaky chuckle from him but swatted into a coughing fit. You glance to the side where a wash basin and empty glasses are placed, turning the tap on to watch it shoot out chilled water and bubbles as it fills the cup. Hand extended to offer the glass to Jake, his flimsy hand attempted to reach but the drug must’ve suppressed the ability of his movement. You sigh and gently press the glass to the cut-open lip. The water slowly trickles down his throat, gulp after gulp until it reaches the bottom. 

He weakly flashes a toothy grin at you. “Well, it’s good to see you too.” He said, in a raspy voice.

You never imagined this is how you would meet again after decades, him in a hospital bed, picking up pieces of himself to put it back together. You shook your head in dismay.

“No, it’s not good. This is how I see you again after all these years? Broken and frail?”

“Shit happens. It’s also part of the job.” He responded calmly.

“Then tell me, why the hell am I your emergency contact? Where is your family? You need to tell them. Not me.”

His breath quivers to suppress the pain before opening his mouth again, “You are the only one I know that lives nearby, plus, there is no point for them to fly all the way from Texas. It’s just a waste of time—“

“I don’t think it’s a waste of time if it’s a life or death situation. I’ll call your mother and inform her—“

“Don’t." he contended. "I don’t wanna make this a bigger deal than it already is. They don’t need to worry about me. I can handle myself.”

You opened your mouth to counter his response but held your tongue and swallow your words. The image of him in your mind was always etched as a tough kid who could handle anything on his own, and if he can’t, he’ll find a way. You grimaced and flopped into the chair next to him, his face is haggard with his dishevelled locks, the bags under his eyes drooping down towards the floor and blood drained from his pale face.

“So, what happened to you? The last I’ve heard, you were one of the best in your class since your mom won’t stop boasting about it. Tell me then, how did you end up like this?” Your brows raised unenthusiastically as you tried to minimise the sarcastic tone.

Jake’s face falters and recollects the moments that happened just mere hours ago. “Sometimes, even if you’re the best, you still can’t avoid accidents that are gonna happen.” He inhales, “bird strikes, those things are mostly unavoidable. But if you’re lucky, you could land the aircraft safely with one engine, and a couple of bruises but mostly unscathed,”

He blinks, “and in the off chance that your aircraft fails…you have to find the means to survive out of pure instinct." Something flashes in his eyes but you can't quite place what it was and before you know it, it’s gone.

Jake continues, "I blacked out mostly, only fragments of what happened. And to be honest, I still don't know what to feel. I remember...clutching myself as tightly as I could and pinching my nose before I hit the water. Then... everything went dark. Never thought the ocean could be so dark."

He shifted a little bit, groaning underneath the pain and squeezing his eyes shut to endure it. "You know, the only good thing that came out of that was the freezing cold numbing everything. I don't remember how I got to the surface, I don't remember being rescued, I just...have no recollection at all. The next time I woke up was here, surrounded by four white walls and listening to the doctor's run-down of my missing pieces."

"Then you showed up."

The corner of your lip faintly tugs, reassuring him of your presence in comfortable silence, the years of disconnection from him dissolved the indifferences between you both and gained a new sense of admiration. For a moment, you did not recognise him. His vastly changed difference is no longer the same imprinted in your memories. He grew up in a blink of an eye and lived up to his beliefs.

"Alright, is there anything I could do for you? I know you did not put me as your emergency contact just for a simple catch-up. And, how the fuck did you even get my number?" the slight crease to your brows painted on your puzzled features as you interrogated Jake for a solid answer. The last time you've ever spoken to his mother was before you moved to San Diego, from then on your only real connection to her was through your own mother.

Jake's smirk brings you slight displeasure about what you're about to discover. "Perks of being in the navy," you shudder, "and also a bit of bribery." There it is. "And, yeah you're right. You're my emergency go-to because you're the only person I know outside of base. And also I need you to get me some toiletries. And possibly some clothes too cuz I am not going to wear my aviation suit leaving this building." He drafted up a fake smile that made you roll your eyes.

You retracted any comments about him being admirable. Every single cell in your body at this moment is having a hard time suppressing the thought of you wrapping your hands around that sprained neck of his and choking him out of his misery as you listen to the sound of his heart flatline through the machine. Oh, how melodic that would be.

"You, Seresin, are an asshole."

"Aw, I've missed you too." He beams, this time with a little bit more honesty, "But for now, stay. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

*

Week by week, you grew accustomed to the newly fixated schedule that you reluctantly signed up for; waking up at 8 am, commuting the highway in your matchbox car, taking care of your loving companions that you often wish would rule over the world someday; your colleagues' sympathy and understanding shed some weight off your skin as they let you off work early. Another set of traffic that made you wanna blow your brains out, browsing the men's section at the thrift store since you're not going to spend $50+ on Jake just because he's injured (hold for sympathetic aw's), and then visiting said injured pet that doesn't need your help as he's surrounded by medical professions.

You arrived at the hospital today at 4:30 pm, right on the dot, pushing open the door in hopes to find Jake lying lazily on the bed, with a men's health magazine in one hand and trying to scratch his nose with his broken one.

Instead, you find him at the foot of the bed dressed in an oversized grey hoodie and navy blue sweatpants you picked out for him, upright and packing his things in your duffle bag that was long forgotten at the far back of your closet, collecting dust.

"Hey, buddy! Great news! They told me I'm free to go home, but I still need to come back for physiotherapy and check-ups in the upcoming weeks." Jake rejoices, upholding himself underneath the weight of his crutches.

"That's...great!" you smiled, but feeling perplexed by the sudden info dropped at your doorstep, "So, that means you can go back to base now, right? Great, I'll drop you off." As you're about to turn and exit, Jake stops you with an undistinguishable noise.

"Yeeeeah, about that. Um," he rubs the back of his neck nervously and sucks in a breath of air. "I don't have a clear permission to station at the base yet. What they essentially said was for me to get better first before coming back. And even if I did have permission, I would get bored very fast since," He gestured to his casts. "But the funny thing is, I don't have a place to stay outside of the base, so I guess we're going to have to be roommates for a while."

The white noise grew hot in your surroundings. The statics pinched and sizzled your brain into a sheet of white paper as you could only stare into his fiendish grin. What did he just say? Roommates, wait no. No place to stay? Jake blinks, maintaining eye contact with your blank stares. "Yeah, I'm going to need you to ans—"

"No."

"Yes."

"No!" the anger burst from its volcanic rupture, bubbling at the pit of your stomach for the passing weeks, now all released at the face of this moment.

Jake stood idly, taken aback by your explosive reaction and your unbreakable glare that's keeping him on the spot. He huffs and shakes his head. "Why not?"

"Why not?" You scoffed, "Because, Seresin...You are forcing your way, without a plan, into every bit of my life like you used to and thinking that I would accept you with open arms. But, in reality, I don't know you. Not anymore."

"Then isn't this the perfect timing," Jake threw his hands up and motioned his finger between you and him. "We will have plenty of time to get acquainted again."

"Have you been listening to what I've just said?"

"Oh, what? You want me to be stranded on the streets like a lost dog?"

"That sounds like a good idea, maybe we should try that!"

The door abruptly busts open with a loud slam that caught you both off guard. You jumped, with your beating heart in your mouth. A woman dressed in blue scrubs, hands glued to her hips with eyes seeing red as she glowers at the both of you.

"Lieutenant, if you’re finished with packing. I'd suggest you leave accordingly before I call security."

You both awkwardly shuffle, picking up the duffle bag and usher yourselves out of the room with your head down as you mouth 'sorry' on your way out.

[jmagnabo92]

GGSB Fest 2024 - New, Hot Professor

@goodgodfathersiriusblack

Prompt - Professor Sirius

When Sirius returns after the war is over, McGonagall surprises him with a job offer for Harry's redo of his seventh year, which Harry is happy about until the girls try to use him so that they can get close to the new, hot professor.

AO3

***

“I’m sorry, you want me to teach?” Sirius asks, looking unbelievably at McGonagall.  “I’ve only been back like ten seconds, and I really just want to spend time with my godson –”

“Which is why you’re perfect as my successor,” McGonagall states.  “You’d have the opportunity to spend even more time with Harry once he’s returned to school.”

“Yeah, but I – I mean, he’d be in the dorms…”

“He could choose to stay with you in your rooms if he’d like?” McGonagall offers.  “I suppose with the attention he’ll gather; he might prefer some privacy.”

Sirius can’t deny that.  Harry has been rather… determined… to be out of the spotlight and was contemplating not returning to Hogwarts at all due to feeling like he’d be some sort of spectacle.  

“Okay, let me talk it over with Harry and… I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.”

***

“You’ll be at Hogwarts?” Harry asks, delightedly, that night when Sirius had told him of the meeting with McGonagall.  “We could stay together in your quarters?”

“Er, yeah.  That’s the offer – if you’re okay with it?”

“It would make me feel a lot better about returning – having you there.”

“Well, alright then, I guess I get to be a professor.”

“Brilliant!”

***

Harry’s grinning from ear to ear as Sirius is announced as the Transfiguration Professor in place of McGonagall, who’s now Headmistress.  He’s so happy to have Sirius here.  This past summer had done them both a world of good when it came to recovering, but Harry could admit that he still felt like he needed Sirius’ presence at times.  Someone to just be Harry with and someone who loves him for him.  

It's perfect.  

He’s so excited.

Well, until he hears the girls all chattering about how hot Sirius is and the things that they would love to do with him. 

Lavender, even being brave enough to ask Harry, “Hey, Harry, do you think the hot professor might be into breaking some rules together?”

He nearly gags on his food as Ron and Neville pat him on the back.

“Er, Lavender, you realize that’s my godfather, right?  He’s been like my parent – I don’t really want to be thinking about that kind of stuff.”

“Oh, come on, he’s young and hot, and he probably hasn’t gotten any action since before Azkaban –”

He does gag at that.  “I am so leaving this conversation.”

Then he moves as far away from Lavender as possible.

***

Of course, it doesn’t stop there.  So many of the girls around him kept trying to be his friend to be around the ‘new hot professor’ or get detention with him just so they could spend more time with Sirius.  

It frustrates Harry to no end.

“How is this worse than when they thought I was a cheat or deranged?” Harry groans as he plops down on the settee in their sitting room.  

Sirius chuckles.  “You don’t find this funny at all?”

“Clearly, you do.”

“Well, I admit – it’s nice to be considered attractive after all that time in Azkaban.  Plus, at least no one’s bothering you about the war and things?” Sirius offers, a smug smile on his lips.  

Harry huffs.  “I suppose that is better, but you should hear some of the things they want to do to you – it’s all… “ he gags.  “… I don’t want to hear about that stuff.”

“Sorry, kid.  Just use silencio on them whenever they get too graphic, that’ll teach them a lesson.”

“Shouldn’t you not be encouraging me to use my magic like that?”

“Maybe, but I never agreed to be a good influence.”

Harry snorts.  “McGonagall didn’t know what she was doing when she hired you.”

“Oh, I think she did, but she realized that after everything… it was good to have me here.”

“Do you think you’ll stay after I leave?” Harry questions.  “I mean – do you like it?”

“I do and as long as you come visit and I still get to see you… I think being a professor might just be perfect for me.”

“Good, then I guess I can just make do for now.  As long as you’re happy with it.”

“I am.  Are you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Harry answers and he means it.  He’d put up with anything if it means spending time with Sirius.  “It was a great decision.”

“Good.”

[yoyomomiko]

How about a Wendy Testaburger fic where (Fem Reader) has a crush on her but was too scared to tell her. Looks like Bebe has to help reader out again lol

Matchmaker

Pairing: Wendy x F!Reader

Summary: Bebe helps you confess to Wendy!

Warnings: None!!

(A/N): Thank you sm for the ask/request, this is the first time i do this and i'm sorry if this doesn't meet your expectations, but i tried! i hope you like it!! ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

Wendy Testaburger was the smartest girl you knew. And no, it wasn't because everybody that surrounded you was a dumbass, but because she was top tier intelligent.

You started admiring her hard work, and maybe even her beauty...

Every single time there was a class project, you tried your best to partner up with her, and always asked to do the work at her house. And the times when you didn't manage to be her partner, you'd always view her project with attention, sneakily taking glances at her.

Whenever you'd see Stan with her, you felt a little burn in your heart, also emptiness in your stomach. It just felt wrong... Was it jealousy? It was.

It took you some time to realize you had a massive crush on her, always trying to catch a glimpse of her from across the classroom, or at lunch, when you ate with her and the girls at the same table.

Your heart would flutter everytime Wendy would teach you stuff. And oh, did you go crazy when Wendy would fight Cartman...

“Hi girl!”

“No, that goes here. But you're good at this!”

“Great job!”

“Cartman, go pick on someone else, she is off limits!”

“You're such an amazing friend!”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

The school bell rang, signaling lunch break. The hallway flooded with students, as you made your way to the cafateria.

You sat alone at the table. You wear contemplating when and how you were going to confess to Wendy, your best friend and crush for what seemed like forever.

Somebody plopped down next to you, their lunch tray slamming on the table. You slowly traced your eyes up to the person's face, only to see the gosspi queen herself, Bebe.

“Spill the tea.” She leaned close to you, blonde hair bouncing at the sudden movement.

“I don't understand?”

“Don't act like you don't know what i'm talking about. I see the way you look at Wendy, and that is most definetly NOT in a friendly way.” She stated, making your eyebrows raise slightly. Was your crush on Wendy THAT obvious?

“Fine... Yes, yes i like her.” You admited nervously, cheeks flushed a crimson red.

“I knew it! When are you gonna confess?” She asked eagerly, waiting for your response.

“Probably never... I mean, i'm not sure! What if she doesn't like me back, and then she thinks i'm weird or something, and stops being friends with me?!” You covered your face, panicking a bit.

“That won't happen, i'm sure of it.” Bebe reassured you as she patted your back, comforting you. “Listen, you can't bottle up your emotions, you should definetly tell her how you feel!”

“I'd rather die...”

Bebe stared at your face, trying to figure out what emotions you were showing. She shook her head and got up, walking to Wendy's table.

'SHE BETTER NOT' is what you kept repeating in your mind.

You saw Bebe lean over on Wendy's shoulder, then whisper something in her ear. Wendy then glanced at you and smiled slightly, her cheeks tinted a light pink, barely noticable.

She then turned around, and Bebe approached you with a confident smirk. Bebe sat back down next to you, eating her lunch.

“What did you tell her?!” You whisper yelled in panic, making Bebe eye you.

“Relax, i didn't tell her anything. I asked her a question, that's it.”

“Well what did you ask...?” You fidgeted with your fingers under the table, heart pumping a bit too fast.

“I can't tell you. If you wanna find out, ask her to meet up with you after school, at the playground!” Bebe just gave you a smile, while you nodded along.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

All you could think about was how you were gonna ask Wendy such a thing. Would you also confess your feelings that you've kept hidden all this time? You couldn't even focus in class.

Anxiety rushed through your veins as soon as you heard the bell ring, indicating the end of another day at South Park Elementary.

You got up quickly to pack your things before Wendy walked out of the classroom. You glanced around the room, trying to find Wendy. You ended up catching a glimpse of Bebe's grin, making you blush.

The class cleared up as you went up to Wendy.

“Hi girl!” Wendy greeted you.

“Hi, uh, Wendy, can we meet at the playground, before we go home?”

“Sure!” She smiled at you, while you nervously smiled back, mind going crazy.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

You waited and waited, what if she didn't come?

After some time, Wendy finally arrived, wandering over to you.

“What's up? Is somthing wrong?” She asked, looking a bit concerned at the way your face was redder than a tomato.

“I'm fine! I... Wanted to ask you something...”

You haven't thought about this, how should you even form the question?!

“Okay, i know this will sound a little weird, but... What did Bebe ask you? It's not that i really want to know- It's jus that...”

Wendy's cheeks heated up, eyes widening slightly. Your lips felt dry, as you noticed her zone out.

“Bebe... Asked me how i feel about you...” Wendy admited, gaze fixated on you and you only.

“Oh... And what did you say?”

Wendy took a deep breath, searching an answer at the back of her mind, so she doesn't slip out the truth.

“I told her that... You're a cool person. And that you're fun to be around with, and you're really funny, and i think i-”

“Wendy...” You tried catching her attention, wich worked. She quickly snapped her eyes to you, observing your blushing face.

You can do this, just how Bebe told you to...

“Wendy, i think you're the smartest girl i've ever met. You're really sweet and all... But that's not the only thing i admire about you. You're... Well... I like you!” You finally confessed. You felt like running away, hoping that the ground could open up and swallow you whole.

You covered your face in embarassment, blushing harder than ever.

“Sorry i-”

“I like you too.”

You couldn't believe your ears. You peeked slightly from the gap of your fingers, eyes widening.

“You... You do?”

“Of course i do! You're... Possibly the best girl ever, you're a cool best friend, and i truly like you!”

She blushed as well, before you took your hands off of your face completely.

You leaned over to her, eyes scanning her. Her own eyes examined you as well.

“Can... Can i kiss you...?” You asked, and Wendy nodded.

Before you could lean in fully, Wendy pulled you into her and gave you a short and quick kiss.

Even if it didn't last long, it felt amazing.

“So... Are we a thing now?” You asked Wendy, and she nodded her head.

“I say we are. Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

“Yes! Yes, i do. Do you...?”

“Of course!”

She suddenly kissed your cheek again, and you both started laughing slightly.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

(BONUS):

“Matchmaker is my middle name.”

Bebe stared at the two of you from behind a wall with a proud look, as she then turned around.

“Let's see who's next...”

She pondered quietly to herself looking at the sheet of paper, a list to all the other love birds around the school.

[lu-sn]

#kpweek2022 day 1: mvp

pete & macau, vegaspete, shooting things for fun, <1K

-

Pete yelps as he receives a whap to the back of the head, right before the offender circles around to perch himself on the arm of the sofa Pete is sitting on.

“That’s for not telling me you’re a crack shot,” Macau grumbles.

Pete hisses as he gingerly rubs at the back of his head. “Did you have to hit me that hard?”

“That’s on you for withholding literally the coolest thing about you,” Macau says, crossing his arms. “Hia says you grazed his shoulder. I didn’t know that was you.”

“Um.” Pete wonders if he should maybe scooch away from Macau before he gets bopped on the head again. “Yeah, yep. That was me.” He winces. “If it helps, I didn’t mean to hurt him?”

“Obviously,” Macau scoffs. “That’s why you’re so legit. Hia says you shot him as a distraction, so you shot him in the least painful place possible, and you did it from across a parking garage. With your left hand.”

“I’m a leftie,” Pete says weakly.

Macau waves a hand dismissively. “Details. You aimed for a spot inches away from his heart and you nailed it.”

Well, when Macau puts it like that. “I am a pretty good shooter,” Pete admits.

Pretty good is probably underselling it. When Pete started working for the main family, fresh out of the boxing arena and with the ever-burning desire to prove himself worthy, shooting was understandably the skill he sucked at the most. Luckily, shooting was also one of the easier skills to practice. It didn’t tire him out the way hand-to-hand training did, and to be honest he still finds it a bit meditative. So he put in way too many hours at the shooting range — and it paid off. Chan used to pull him for sniper jobs, and that was practically a badge of honor for Pete.

“You’re a sniper? Phi, why the hell are you not on my CS:GO team?”

“What’s CS:GO?” Pete asks bewilderingly.

Macau facepalms. “Okay, you know what, I’ll get to that later.” He abruptly stands up, then grabs Pete by the arm. “Right now, you’re gonna show me your stuff.”

-

“Holy shit,” Macau says, almost reverently, after an hour of making Pete attempt increasingly ridiculous trick shots. “You’re an absolute beast. What the hell. I’m in the presence of a god.”

Pete isn’t really used to receiving praise, so he awkwardly laughs it off. But there’s a warmth inside his chest that has been growing ever since they got to the range, and it’s making him feel a little giddy.

“What are you waiting for?” Macau shouts at the bodyguard way off in the distance, who’s been reluctantly recruited to throw stuff in the air for Pete to shoot at. “Do the playing cards next.”

Pete is confident enough in his skills to know that he’s not going to hit the guard, but he decides it’s well past time to put the poor man out of his misery. “That’s ok, we can stop here,” he tries.

“Hmm, no,” Macau says, whipping out his phone, “You need to do one more, so I can get it on video. And then you’re gonna teach me.”

“I am?” Pete says.

Macau turns to him, suddenly looking just the slightest bit vulnerable. “Well, yeah,” he says. “I wanna try. Can I?”

Pete just stands there for a moment, struck dumb, before he feels his face break out into a huge grin. He’s never had the chance to teach someone something before. He’s never had someone ask.

He puts the gun he’s holding down, before yanking Macau into a headlock and ruffling his hair, to great protest. “Of course, if my Nong asks so nicely,” he says sweetly.

“Ow, Phi, get off-”

Pete can’t help himself. He hugs Macau tightly, drops a sniff kiss on the top of Macau’s head. Is this what it feels like to have a younger sibling? Pete gets it now.

“Phi! Ew, gross.” Macau frantically manages to extract himself before attempting to knee Pete in the stomach - which Pete manages to deflect, laughing all the while.

“Yes, Macau, I’ll teach you,” Pete says happily as he watches Macau fix his hair. “But you’re going to have to practice, you know? You can’t complain later, when I have you running drills until you drop.”

“A cause worth suffering for,” Macau says magnanimously. “Now stop distracting me, I need footage.”

-

(Later, Vegas corners Pete in the kitchen, wraps his arms around Pete’s waist from behind. “Are you going to teach me how to shoot too?” he murmurs.

Pete snorts. “Is that a euphemism?”

“Maybe.” Vegas presses closer. “I think I deserve to see just how good you are. And don’t you want to teach me?”

“As if you’re even going to try learning anything.” Pete says, rolling his eyes. “You’ll just use it as an excuse to fuck me. And we really should stop traumatizing the staff.”

“I don’t need an excuse to fuck you,” Vegas says, clearly skipping straight over Pete’s well-earned concern for the staff’s sanity. “See?” he continues, as he begins to drag Pete backwards and out of the kitchen. “Here I am, no excuses.”)

-

day 1 - day 2 - day 3 - day 4 - day 5 - day 6 - day 7

[happyinjection]

♠️♥️High Card Short Story 6 “An Afternoon with Finn and Chris” (1/3)♦️♣️

What do car dealers do on their lunch break? Finn, for one, took Chris out to the backyard of the store...

Original: https://twitter.com/highcard_pj/status/1540170704884072448

Author: https://twitter.com/poipheno

Artist: https://twitter.com/ebimoji3

Lunch break. I stuffed a sandwich into my mouth and dragged Chris out through the backdoor by his arm. 

“Finn~ I was planning to eat dessert after my lunch, you know~”

“You’ve promised to do it today, remember? Come on, let’s go.”

The backyard was bathed in soft sunlight, and purple flowers were blooming from the plants tended by Bernard-ojiichan and Vijay.

“What a pushy kid. Fine, just give a moment.”

Chris, who appeared reluctant, didn’t move from his spot as he shoved a spoonful of pudding from the jar into his mouth.

“Hurry up. We don’t have much time.”

“Okay, okay. I got it.”

Previously, I had gotten Chris to promise that he would teach me martial arts. Long story short, we had been busy with our job as car dealers, and thus our plan had been postponed several times, but today both of us could finally make it.

“I’m not a fan of getting all sweaty with men, though.”

“Stop saying disgusting stuff so often. Come on, hurry up and teach me already!”

“I don’t think it’s anything worth teaching.”

I took off my suit jacket, pulled my necktie off, then draped them over a garden bench. I also took off my watch and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt.

“I mean, Finn, you’re already pretty good at fighting. Surely you have no need for extra training?”

“No problem, just teach me what you know!”

Before I joined High Card, I used to do boxing casually with my friends. However, after going on several missions with Chris, I learned that people who have been through intense training are on an entirely different level compared to those who don’t.

According to what he told me, it seemed that Chris had been trained in martial arts by his father when he was young. His basic skills laid in muay thai and MMA—mixed martial arts. In short, he could do anything in terms of full body combat.

“Very well, for the sake of my cute junior, I guess I can afford to take off a layer or two. One thrust at a time, maybe something more would come out of this, yeah?[*]”

I had no idea what he meant by that, but Chris simply chuckled at me.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

“’Kay.”

I took a shoulder-width stance by putting my left foot forward, then held up both of my fists to the height of my cheeks.

“My style is kind of like boxing. Here it comes, shadow.”

Shadow is a term for when one attacks or dodges while imagining their opponent in their head.

One-two, hook, uppercut, body-ducking, and swayback, I alternated between hitting and dodging.

The cobblestones on the ground rubbed against my leather soles, producing a crisp sound.

“So, how was it? What should I change to improve?”

I panted heavily through my nose.

“Isn’t that already good enough the way it is?”

“What the hell, there’s no way that’s true! Tell me your actual thoughts!”

“No, no, I’m serious. You did good enough. To be fair, on our missions, we don’t usually get into situations where we must go wild in a fistfight, anyway.”

“It did happen last time, though.”

“Finn has sharp eyesight, so you’ll be just fine. Besides, this place is not ideal for training to begin with. MMA especially requires us to work as a pair and involves a lot of getting thrown down. If you’ll follow me to my bed, perhaps then I would reconsider.”

Ignoring his joke, I turned on my heels.

“Alright then! I’m just gonna ask Wendy to teach me.”

In an instant Chris was grabbing on my arm.

“Stop right there! Wendy doesn’t know how to take it easy when giving a lesson, she will definitely break you!”

“So hurry up and teach me instead.”

“Okay, okay. So eager to get back together after breaking up with me, huh.”

Chris took off his suit jacket and threw it over the garden bench. Following that he pulled his necktie off and undid his first button. He took off his dark green watch, then finally rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Due to his tall height, he might seem slender at a glance, but his arms were strong with visible blue veins running all the way down to his wrists.

“Here we go, let’s get into position one more time.”

As I was getting ready, Chris walked around behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders, rubbing on them.

“Hmm, nice frame.”

“Don’t get too handsy with me.”

“No, I’m just stating the truth? Not only you have good eyesight, but you also have a strong body, and you’re surprisingly flexible. Alright, go ahead and start with another one-two.”

I gave him a one-two.

“There’s an opening on your side. Also, your left side isn’t extended wide enough. Since Finn is ambidextrous, if closely observed, your balance when throwing a hit is better than most people.”

While saying that, Chris kept his hands on my hip bones the entire time. It bugged me, but I held on.

“Leave yourself to me, and relax.”

“No need to say unnecessary stuff.”

“Now, pay attention on how you rotate your left hip.”

“Like this?”

“Pull your shoulders in a bit more. Don’t tuck your chin.”

“So, like this?”

“Don’t let your body get carried away. Plant your feet firmly on the ground.”

“Then how about this—!”

Suddenly, whoosh, a faint sound of my fist cutting through the air could be heard.

“Woah! That sound just now, did you catch that?!?! That’s one hell of a punch!”

“Well, you pretty much got it. However, sports and an actual combat are two different things. If you stick to your own rules you will lose, such is the theory of fighting. Thankfully Finn is already good at making things up on the spot, so why not trust your own eyes and intuition?”

“If you say so..... but first, get your hands off my waist.”

With a grin tugging on his lips, Chris held up both of his hands comically.

♠️♥️♦️♣️

TL notes: Chris “sexual innuendo” Redgrave, everyone. [*] This is not exactly what he says but you get the idea. Also, this is the best pun I can come up with at the moment. Once again I’m not posting this one in the correct order but I feel like this must be done before episode 9! As usual, let’s enjoy High Card together~

[blkkizzat]

hi im shy so i haven't interacted b4 but i luv your fics! i like that you write stories & just don't post smau or twt porn links.

Hey nonny! TY for liking my work, its appreciated!! I do encourage you to interact though, even if its just a comment or continued anon msgs cause they do encourage me to write. I also really like receiving them <33 so I hope you or anyone else feels comfy to interact with me. *i dont bite i promiseeeee*

However, I honestly don't think theres anything wrong with smaus or twt porn links.

I incorporated smaus into my fics before. I adore writing or reading a good crack fic/post so I definitely think they have their place too and they are funny! I just personally struggle when it comes to writing shorter content so not something in my wheelhouse to do. (lol anything i write under 1k words i automatically think is dogshit. lol someone teach me to write short stuff i beg.)

Also I be EATING UP those twt porn links!! I don't post any of my own as my twitter is a stan account and I don't follow/like/retwt porn on there cause I don't want to mess up my algorithm. But I do be bookmarking them HEAVY! They are good reference material for my smut fics tbh.

Also I try to stay out of the mess/discourse cause I feel like people should be able to enjoy what they like without writing lame dissertations in defense/debating about it. But since we are on the topic already I'll add I haven't really understood the hate for them in particular, especially those saying people who like/post them have porn addictions because what!? Like we are not all on here to write/read smut?? pot---meet--->kettle. Anyway I guess I can understand the frustration some have when they assume they are stealing attention away from fics, but idk tumblr is huge and there is a place/audience for everyone is my belief. I've seen many long 6k+ fics breaking 20k+ so I think theres interest in long fics as well (one of my 7k+ fic has 18k+ notes). But I work in marketing, am getting my MBA right now and have worked in the middle of business and creative my entire career (at one point i worked for Twitch directly with streamers/influencers) so I can say when it comes to anything content/creative driven its honestly it's less about the quality of the individual work and more about regularly finding, interacting and catering to your audience if you really care about notes that much . I think its far more important though to do it for fun. Especially since we are not getting paid and doing this for free-99! So much creativity gets stifled when its too much about the business/results/notes side and you are working to please others/for clout. Thats a whole ass job in itself lmfao! I used to write on ff.net back in the day (years ago omfg) and stressed myself out so much from all the reviews/requests that I ended up abandoning it and was scared to write fanfics for years because of the anxiety of 'letting ppl down' until I got back into it last fall and decided to stop giving a fuck LOL.

Ahhh but I could ramble on about that for hours so let me stop I'm doing what I said I didn't want to do cause this is def now a mini dissertation from me going down the rabbit hole on this LMFAO! (im long-winded af lol)

But ty for the ask nonny I hope you come back soon <3

[clickerflight]

Joseph: Part 5 - A Friend

Masterlist

Part 4

Had something happen today that made me lose a bit of steam for this story, but we're going to keep trucking. I probably got too caught up in looking for validation with my writing, but I think we'll be okay. I have plans for it and I'm going to keep going, I just might have to take a short break.

Content: Vampire whumpee, human caretaker, hospital setting, panic attack, grief, detailed memories of a character death

..................................................

Joseph enjoyed his music for most of the day, his eyesight coming back enough for him to see the small device where he could search for music and play it. He didn’t recognize the app, but he was glad for the music. 

He was bobbing his head to ‘Eye of the Tiger’ when he smelled someone familiar. He looked over into the hall, waiting until a man came into view. The man that had to be Joshua Muir looked to be of Mexican descent, clean shaven and wearing his hair just long enough he could pull some of it back into a little wolf tail. 

He wasn’t wearing a police uniform, instead wearing well worn jeans and a t-shirt. 

Muir opened his mouth in greeting and Joseph realized he was still wearing his headphones. He pulled them down, the sounds of the hospital greeting him again, but he could focus attention on Muir and it wouldn’t bother him. 

“Hi,” Joseph said, feeling once again safe as Muir sat down in the chair by the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” Muir asked.

Joseph shrugged. “I’m completely regenerated. The nurses said they were going to get some more blood into me overnight and then get me set up to go to a rehab center.”

“Nice. That was pretty quick,” Muir commented. 

Joseph nodded as the situation dawned on him for the first time since waking up. “Oh, stars, you, I….. Sorry. I shouldn’t have forced you to ride in the ambulance with me. You didn’t get in trouble, did you?”

Muir laughed. “No, not at all. Well, maybe a little but it wasn’t a problem. You needed someone to be there for you, man. It happens.”

He nodded a little. “Thanks for coming back. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.”

Muir shook his head, a hint of sadness entering his expression as he said, “No, you’re good. I, ah, I moved to the city pretty recently. I don’t have many friends yet outside of some coworkers… but I guess we don’t really hang outside of work. This is…. Kind of nice, actually.”

“Oh,” Joseph said, surprised. “Alright then.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Muir asked, “So, got any questions? 3 years is a lot of time.”

Joseph shrugged. “Haven’t really seen enough to have questions, I guess…. Have the fledgling laws passed?”

“Not yet,” Muir replied, looking slightly annoyed. “Well, parts of it have. People with terminal illnesses can apply to become a fledgling, but the stuff around people with chronic illnesses and terminally ill children got tied up in the courts last year.”

“Well, I guess it’s good there’s been some movement on that,” Joseph said.

“Yeah,” Muir said. “So, what do you like to do?”

“I like reading,” Joseph said with a shrug. “And D- my bondmate was teaching me how to play the piano. I used to work at a tech shop. I guess I was kind of, I dunno, stuck in a rut. Wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do with my life…..”

“Well, there’s plenty of time to figure it out,” Muir said with a shrug. 

Joseph nodded. “And you? What do you like to do?”

“My job takes up most of my time. I’m working my way up to being a detective. I’ve been a cop for a few years now and I’ve been studying to pass the tests they’ll need me to do. I’m pretty excited. The Chief has been pretty hard on me, which makes me think it’s going well.”

“How’s that?” Joseph asked, curious.

“Well, she’s a tough love kind of lady,” Muir said with a mischievous smile. “She’s been criticizing my work a lot lately, which tells me some big guns are watching me, trying to decide if they should try me out. It’s a bit early in my career for it, but I’ve been proving myself and I think they see it.”

“Oh,” Joseph said, intrigued. “That’s awesome, then! I hope it all works out for you!”

“Of course! And you’ll be the first to know if it does!” Muir said, his grin splitting his face. It drooped and he hesitated. “Er, if you want to be friends, that is. Maybe I can help you figure out what you want to do with your life.”

“Oh yes,” Joseph said eagerly. “I could definitely use a friend.”

“Good,” Muir said with a grin. “I wonder…. I want to talk to the nurses real quick. I’ll be back.”

Muir hopped up and left, the smell of his excitement still hanging in the air. Joseph slipped the headphones back on, not really paying attention to the music as he waited for Muir to come back. 

Muri came back after another 20 minutes, a bag in his hand. Joseph pulled the headphones off and Muir said, “Alright. The nurses said you can check out tonight.”

“Check out? Where am I going? With you?”

“Yup! I had some extra clothes in my car so you can put these on and we can get out of here. I thought you’d probably like to sleep somewhere quiet tonight.”

“Oh, I certainly do,” Joseph said, pushing the blankets off his lap and turning to sit on the edge of the bed as a nurse, the same one who brought him the noise canceling headphones, came to unplug him from the drips. 

Once that was over and the small holes in his skin healed, Joseph stood up, taking the clothes and heading into the bathroom to change. 

The clothing was a bit big on him, but after rolling the top of the pants down inside once they held just fine. He stepped out, shifting the shirt to sit properly on his shoulders before taking the shoes Muir held out for him. 

“We’ll get you some better shoes later,” Muir said with a smile. 

Joseph nodded, grinning. The two walked out, Joseph shuffling a little to keep the shoes on his feet. Muir had already registered his address with the lady at the desk and they were set to go. 

“I think the rehab people will come to meet you around 2 tomorrow? I’ll be at work, but the hospital will let them know to go to my house.”

“Cool,” Joseph said, his shuffling steps feeling strange. They were smoother than he thought they would be, as though there hadn’t been three years and a regeneration in between the last time he walked and now. 

“And then we can get you clothes and stuff tomorrow night,” Muir said as he got into his car. Joseph entered on the passenger’s side and buckled his seat belt, relaxing as heard the familiar sound of a car starting. 

They soon left the hospital parking lot and drove down roads as the sun to the left of them as they hit the highway. Joseph watched the world pass by in awe, the rumble of the car soothing to his fragile mind. 

Maybe he’d be fine. Maybe one day he’d be healed and forget about what happened and he could move on. Maybe when he had something good to do with his life and-

But who would he share it with? His bond with David was empty. It was gnawing on him, crushing his soul and begging to be fed. He had been without a pairbond for three years and his body and mind were beginning to realize it. David was gone and he could still remember feeling his pain through the bond, could still hear his screams. He remembered when the blade had entered David’s heart and killed him. The pain and fear had been unlike anything Joseph had ever felt. His and David’s mingle fear, the pain, David reaching through the bond searching for comfort, searching to be sure Joseph was still okay, and then the knife had come down. 

It was like losing a limb. Crushed in a combine’s mechanics, shattered and torn and shredded and bloodied and violently taken in a moment that could never be changed and never be reversed. The emptiness had consumed Joseph’s mind entirely. Going from all that noise to dead silence where his own fear and pain echoed down and back again through broken links. 

He would never get David back and the pain would last forever. It felt like it would last forever. How was he supposed to deal with it all? How was he meant to survive this?

He grabbed on tightly to whatever was pressed against him. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t feel. All he knew were the memories of David’s gargled screams and the broken bond as his sire and bondmate died. 

He knew he would need to pairbond again eventually, and that sent a new wave of sorrow through him. Was it not enough to be on his own? To always remember David and cherish his memory? He was Demijeoa. He would have to pairbond again to heal, but he couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t imagine pairing with anyone after that. 

He pressed his face into soft fabric, sobbing desperately, unable to alleviate the pain. He realized someone was running a hand through his hair, untangling it and running down his back in strokes, and then he recognized the smell. 

He lifted his head to find Miur looking out a window, though Joseph’s stirring brought his attention back down. “Hey, are you back?”

Joseph felt a wave of sorrow and embarrassment so strong it sent him to hiding in Muir’s shoulder again. 

“Hey, man. It’s going to be alright. Promise. Do you want to talk about it?”

“”S not gonna be alright,” he mumbled. “He’s dead.”

He felt Muir tense up, but he didn’t stop rubbing Joseph’s back. “I know, I’m really sorry.”

Joseph let out a shuddering sigh, simply letting Muir quietly comfort him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You don’t have to. Not right now. Right now, it’s enough to just grieve. I know losing a bondmate is painful, even if I can’t really understand it.”

Joseph nodded before peeling himself away from Muir, scrubbing his face. 

“Are you going to be okay?” Muir asked.

Joseph just nodded so Muir turned off the hazard lights, signaled, and got back on the road. It was dark now, and Joseph was so tired he just laid his head against the window and let the rattle of the road bruise his head repeatedly. 

Joseph was asleep by the time Muir pulled into his driveway. He got out and went to the passenger seat, opening the door quickly and propping up Joseph to keep him from falling on the pavement. The vampire slept like a dead thing as Muir closed the car door with his hip and walked up the steps to the house. 

After some awkward shuffling, he managed to unlock the door and step inside. He walked through the house to his bedroom where he set the vampire on his bed. He coaxed the blankets over him and went back to the front door to lock it. 

After a quick snack and a shower, he got ready for bed and slept on the couch in the living room. 

………………………………………………..

Joseph woke in a comfortable bed wrapped in blankets that smelled enough like Muir to tell him that Muir had given his bed up to Joseph. He sighed, pressing his face into the pillow for a moment before rolling over and out of the bed. 

He poked his head out into the hall, looking around. There was another room set up with a desk and walls lined with cork board, though only one was in use. He soon found the bathroom and cleaned up before going to the living room. 

Muri laid on the couch, bundled in blankets and snoring very softly. Joseph hummed and decided to make breakfast. 

There wasn’t much in the kitchen and he ended up just improvising with some quick oats and eggs, as well as getting some coffee ready. 

He heard Muir wake up and smiled when he heard Muir’s small confused noise when he smelled food. 

He stumbled in, wearing sweatpants and a blanket cape as Joseph turned, scooting a plate of food across the island to him. 

“Got the coffee started a bit late but it should be done in a mo.”

“Thanks,” Muir said, surprised. 

“You're welcome. And no offense, but do you live on oatmeal, eggs, and canned chili?”

“Er, no. I tend to grab food while I’m working,” he said, fishing a fork out of the dishwasher and sitting on one of the stools to eat. 

Joseph rolled his eyes and sat down next to him once the coffee was done. Muir took the coffee eagerly, taking a sip and closing his eyes in delight. They ate in silence for a minute before Muir said, “So I guess this means you want me to buy more food.”

Joseph snorted. “Yes. You’ll end up with kidney stones if you keep eating like you are.”

Muir shook his head and downed his coffee. “Alrighty, then. I’d better go get ready.”

“Kay,” Joseph said, enjoying his breakfast a bit more slowly. 

When Muir came back, he was dressed in his uniform and ready to go. “I left a note on the computer with the password. Feel free to surf the web while I’m gone. Just remember-”

“The meeting at 2:00. I got it,” Joseph said, putting the dishes in the sink while he unloaded the dishwasher. 

“Yup. I might stop by on one of my breaks, but we’ll see.”

“Alright. See ya.”

“Bye.”

The door closed, the key scraped in the lock, and Joseph was alone. 

Joseph stood in the kitchen, his heart pounding in his throat as the silence pressed in on him. Silence like silver. 

He shook his head. He was not interested in having another breakdown today. Not right now. He was going to hold it together and if he needed to cry himself to sleep that night, then by the stars he would cry himself to sleep. 

He rifled through the kitchen, putting things away as he went along until he’d taken care of the dishes. He loaded the new ones into the dishwasher and closed it. 

He supposed the next thing he could do would be to catch up on what he’d missed. 

He went to the room with the cork board walls, glancing at the images and notes tacked there. It was a missing person’s case about a little girl. He hummed, looking at the little girl’s face. Did anyone look for him and David like this? Did someone in the world string up their names and faces, staring at them in the hopes that it would provide some clue?

Joseph shrugged off the image and sat at the computer, typing in the string of letters and numbers from the sticky note and opening up the search engine. 

He stared at the blinking bar for a moment, uncertain of what he should do before he started pulling up the social media accounts he’d had and opening them up to see what there was to see. 

Joseph: @not-a-space-alien @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

From Dust to Ashes: @writereleaserepeat @currentlyinthespiral

Part 6

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

*gets on my knees* prompts for pred prince s,idon please..

Obviously, I love the fish prince so yes! More of him!

It's obvious to S.idon that, as the prince, it was his duty to handle the L.ynel issue they had going on. Even if the shock arrows would harm him, he knew he had to go out there and handle this horrible beast for the safety of his people. He managed to sneak up on it, thankfully, giving him the perfect chance to strike. The L.ynel roars out as it feels jaws chomp over its ass and looks back to see S.idon devouring it. It tries to fire off an arrow to send the Z.ora flying but it can't get a good aim like that, and its back legs are folding into the prince's gullet as it's devoured. All it can do is roar and thrash, the sounds like echoing thunder as its scarfed down by the prince. Once he gets to the waist, S.idon lifts the beast up and tips his head back, letting the top half of it slide effortlessly down his gullet. It roars the whole way down, all the way until sharp teeth snap shut over its face and a final gulp seals its fate. S.idon's stomach bloats out before him with the great beast, who thrashes around wildly in its efforts to escape. All it really does is make S.idon gassy and blast out thick belches that echo through the hills. He sits back against a tree, licking his lips as he rubs over his gut. He pushes down on the L.ynel's face every time it stretches out his belly with a fierce roar. It a matter of hours, he'll be able to waddle back home with a fatter gut and tell his people about how he managed to tame the wild beast. S.idon licks his lips and smiles, patting his stomach a few times as the L.ynel's energy is already waning. He's happy that his kind won't have to fear this monster any longer, at least. And...well, getting a good meal out of it is a nice bonus.

S.idon couldn't stop eating. He had to have more and more. The Z.ora fall victim to his hunger, trying to reason with their prince only to be met by sharp teeth and a dark gullet that pulls them in. His stomach expands with each of his subjects and he somehow finds the ability to keep moving ever as his gut drags along the ground and bulges out before him. G.anon's corruption had finally begun to spread more, and S.idon is one of its first victims. His eyes glow purple and red and the only thing he can think to do is stuff his face with anything he can get his hands on. The last screaming face is shoveled down the hatch and a harsh belch rumbles out of him. The entire Z.ora domain has now been relocated into the prince's stomach. They do all they can to escape, screaming and thrashing around, muffled voices begging for their prince to come to his senses and let them out. But all S.idon does is rub along his engorged stomach and belch like a beast. He finally feels so wonderfully full, and having this much meat inside of his stomach comes with pure bliss. His subjects should be honored to be his food and settle his horrible hunger! There's no greater use of their life than this! He grins wide, drooling as he listens to them continue to beg and yell. His guts churn and gurgle wetly, already breaking down the first few he devoured into a thick soup. They'd all be gone in a matter of time and with G.anon's corruption clouding his mind, S.idon would be enjoying every second of it. Anyone who dared to come by the kingdom like this would simply be added to the meal, and by the time there's nothing left by a thick, sloshing mass in his guts, S.idon would be wandering off to eat even more. The Z.ora domain found its way onto his stomach but it wasn't enough--he'd just have to have the rest of Hyrule for dessert!

"Come on now, you can do it!" S.idon assures his gurgling guts. They bounce and thrash around with his meal inside. It's his job to teach people the skill of swimming up waterfalls, and while practicing on actual waterfalls is usually a good start, he figured that this was basically the same thing! His stomach groans wetly and sloshes around again as the man inside thrashes around. S.idon lets out a belch and smiles. "Ah, I think you're getting closer. I know you can do it, just give it another shot!" Once more, the prince's stomach sloshes around with a bit of thrashing before suddenly going still. It lets out a low groan and the prince belches once more, this time sending the loaned Z.ora armor out of his jaws. "Oh, dear..." That's the fifth time today that he's done that. He's certain that this method can work! Going up his throat is essentially the same as a waterfall, and it's much more convenient for training these H.ylians on the go. But...well, the success rate hasn't been too great, if his waistline is an indication. S.idon picks up the armor, now dripping in drool, and goes to wash it off. L.ink managed this just fine, he reasons, so the other H.ylians should be able to! He just needs to keep trying and be more motivational. Once he's got this armor cleaned up, he can loan it to the next one and they can try again! One of them has to get themselves freed from his gullet. S.idon's gut gurgles wetly in disagreement--it's more than happy to keep claiming all of these easy meals. It's already prepared for its next H.ylian lunch.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Healthcare Boys get a Work Vacation!! Part 1

Time stared at the invitation in confusion. "But I didn't even submit anything to get this--"

"I did," Malon interrupted. "You're the best trauma surgeon in the hospital, and you love to teach others. The symposium thought you'd be a great speaker."

"Malon--"

"Don't even try to get out of it," Malon said, waving a finger at him. "You have a speech prepared anyway, you've given talks on this stuff before."

"Yes, to residents and people in our department," Time argued. "I've never spoken at a conference."

"Which is an absolute crime!" Malon replied, throwing her hands in the air. "Honey, you'll be fine. Legend, Sky, and Warriors will be there, as well as Hyrule! You boys can all have a good time together."

Time paused, gazing out the window. He would have never expected to be noticed for such an honor, anyway, let alone at a region-wide emergency medicine conference. He had to huff out a laugh as he looked at his amazing wife.

"I don't deserve you," he said, pulling her in for a kiss.

Malon hummed, nuzzling his nose with hers.

XXX

Hyrule was so excited. It had been so long since he could even leave Castle Town because of all the work he'd been doing. A stable, steady job was beneficial and all, but by heaven he'd missed being on the road.

Legend looked similarly eager, belongings already tossed into the back of his car as he waved for Hyrule to hurry up.

"Come on, Roolie, the beach is waiting!" Legend laughed. "Can't wait to get my hands on a map and check the sights."

"And explore the beach!"

"And all the classes!" Legend added as he nearly launched himself into the driver's seat. "It's about damn time I learned something new, work's been getting boring."

"And we'll get to see Sky and Wars and Time too!" Hyrule chirped with delight, hopping into the passenger seat.

XXX

Sky fidgeted nervously as he watched Time pack his luggage into the car. "Are you sure this is--"

"It's okay, Sky," Time said for probably the fifth time in the last half hour. "Just be safe on the road, okay?"

Sky smiled and nodded. He'd felt bad when he said he'd rather drive alone to the city, but he knew himself well enough. He needed some space, and four hours on his bike on the road would supply him that. Then he'd be in the right mindset to have fun with everyone.

He was finally starting to feel himself again after what felt like ages in a slump. He wanted to feel alive again, and this trip was the perfect way to get back into it. Everyone had been so understanding, and it was overwhelmingly kind of them.

Time put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. "I'll see you at the hotel, okay?"

Sky nodded. "Okay."

XXX

Warriors nodded in satisfaction at the tidy arrangement of clothes and supplies in his luggage. He was fairly certain he was finally done packing. Closing the suitcase, he turned and saw Wind smiling at him, Tingle oinking in delight at his side.

A hint of worry clung to him like a barb, and he said, "Hey, remember, if she tries to contact you--"

"Kick her ass," Wind finished for him, smacking a fist into his palm with an aggressive and protective smile.

"No," Warriors sighed, rolling his eyes. "Look, everything should be sorted out until I get back. Just don't cause problems until I get back. And keep Tingle out of sight, got it?"

"I'll be fine, Wars," Wind reassured him. "Go have fun! You deserve a break."

Warriors felt the anxiety ease a little, and he huffed out a laugh before ruffling the kid's hair. Well... maybe he did deserve a bit of a break. Turning, he headed down the stairs for where Time would be waiting.

It was time to have some fun.

[thefirstknife]

I come in good faith. 1) It bums me out a bit how simple the mechanics are for RoN. Raids are the best content in Destiny, and I think they're the best when the team is building on each other. I don't feel that when half the raid is just doing add clear. I love giving new players active mechanical role in raids, but RoN only has 2-3. 2) We already separate contest clear and WF, or we should, so if they bump difficulty/complexity give us 72h. Felt great to take real breaks and not ruin sleep.

Honestly, more time is always better. Not only for everyone's health, but also because there are time zones and for some people the time of the launch is simply not possible. More time would definitely be better so more people can check out contest mode. In this case though, I would say that after a while a non-contest mode option should also be available sooner so people who can't do contest mode can attempt the raid before the weekend is over.

As for mechanics, I don't know. I don't think they're too simple in the sense that there's not much to do. They're definitely streamlined and smooth without adding too much to it with each encounter. Root is really the only one like this, so to me, it's not a problem since it's just an added variety to the types of raids we have. Root is also really good for teaching and beginner raiders.

I also think that add clear in Root is more than just add clear. It isn't just killing meaningless adds to pass the time, it's essential to make sure that the runners can do their job. To me, these two roles are definitely building on each other, more so than in any other raid. Add clear in raids tends to be just something that isn't really relevant and boils down to basically not participating in the raid at all.

But in Root, given the types of encounters and the add density, add clear becomes an actual part of the mechanics. You're not just killing stuff for the sake of killing, you're killing because the adds are specifically designed to disrupt mechanics. Their density, positioning and type are all deliberately made to be disruptive so add clear isn't just chilling around, they have to focus on specific spots and prioritise. This is especially evident in the boss room with colossi who are designed to stand in the way of the runner and shoot missiles that slow you down.

Of course, I can understand that for some that still isn't enough and they would still prefer raw mechanics over any sort of add clear. But also consider that most raids are like that and that there really isn't a raid which has this sort of focus on a high-pace action packed encounters with a lot of adds. Adds are mostly a minor nuisance otherwise, but in Root they're a part of the mechanics.

This is definitely the sort of critique I can understand however, since everyone has their personal preferences and sometimes they won't be met! I know a lot of people dislike Vow over the symbol-heavy mechanics, but I personally adore Vow's take on symbol-mechanics. I'm also, for example, not a fan of mechanics where you have to swap buffs around between people so in DSC I tend to get confused and it's not my favourite thing, but to some that's the best part.

My least favourite raid thing is boss damage because that's just everyone standing somewhere and shooting heavy and I just don't care at all for huge boss health bars. It's the least engaging part of raids for me. If bosses fell over once we finished the mechanics, I'd be happy. But I also know that a lot of people love damage sponge bosses. I do like Rhulk and Nezarec as bosses though, they're super unique and I love that they have a personality and movement during the fight. Especially Nezarec who spends the entire time with you in the arena.