#the stuff I bought from the market was damn cool too

[victory-cookies]

bought some more shit from the vintage market today and was showing my coworker at work and she said that I have good style and that “if we were roommates she’d totally be nabbing stuff from my closet to wear” so I am winning today

[botanyshitposts]

Opinion on the US's Cogs damn obsession with corn?

don't know what you're talking about specifically but my understanding of US agricultural policy in general is that being a farmer in capitalism sucks and has since colonization and for a long time the US government tried to make it suck less with subsidies which sometimes work (because people get paid predictably regardless of demand and its less like gambling with crops) but sometimes go over really badly (because then too many people grow it and the price per bushel goes down and then government has too much corn) and then a couple times they got rid of all the subsides and related regulations and that REALLY didnt work (because then the price just crashed hard and with nothing to compensate them a bunch of farmers, many of whom were in debt for other farming-related reasons, couldnt get paid and actually had to foreclose their farms, which accelerated the long-standing trend of farms getting foreclosed on and then being bought out by bigger farms that then ended up running INSANE multi million dollar operations, sometimes even on farms in other states where the owners do not live, in communities they do not contribute to) and they had to backpedal on it and then eventually they just started on the current system where you simply pass a farm bill every 10-12 years instead of yearly or biyearly and that way you simply dont have to think about it, and then when it is election time you go stand by a cornfield for a while for tv. it does not fix the huge enormous farms buying out smaller farms problem or any of the complicated related problems but it DOES put it off for longer which is more important.

sometimes also you (USAID for instance) can give the too-much-corn you have from farm subsidies to a foreign country as a 'gift' and say youre just being a helpful little guy, but in the process of doing so undercut the local farmers in that country because they cant compete with free stuff but that's cool because then the foreign country can't really survive as well without US agricultural aid and you can manipulate them to do imperialism better AND you have more demand for the corn which might raise the price per bushel in the US. also sometimes the corn is fed to livestock en masse because the meat is worth more and sometimes its made into gas or high fructose corn syrup, and sometimes the price is so low per bushel that the insurance on the field is worth more than the actual corn.

but. i CANNOT stress enough that the most important thing about corn is that you can stand next to it on tv and if you cant do that, maybe you can stand next to a guy who is around it a lot and say you are helping him.

in my relatively uneducated opinion the most epic way to solve this complex multi-century interdisciplinary push and pull of supply and demand would be to just pay farmers a salary through the state since youre already paying out massive state subsidies for crops you dont need anyway and the farmers are performing a vital service and that way you can guarantee people a consistent salary AND control how much of each thing gets planted so you dont have a massive stockpile at all times AND you reward individual people instead of paying out large amounts of money to whatever massive operation sells the most corn by virtue of being big, but if you dont want to do that then the second best thing is to just pass another mediocre farm bill whos inflexible 10-ish year lifespan makes it impossible for it to respond well to changes in market demand and that way you can just put off making tough decisions and instead stand next to a guy and a cornfield on tv again. which as we have covered is the most important part of american agriculture

[splxtduxlies]

yes i kno i do a lot of agent 24 headcanons but what if. pearlina headcanons

(aka the other splatoon ship that makes up most of my brain's space)

so at this point i think we all pretty much get their lore - marina was an octoling solider that heard the inkantation at the end of splat1 and fled from underground, pearl was a richy rich inkling who wanted to start a band, they make out they get married they adopt agent 8 yk the Canon

marina's first impression of pearl was "wow this short inkling girl can scream"

pearl's first impression of marina was that she looked cool and would make her band stand out from the rest bc of her "weird" look (pearl canonically did not know marina was an octoling lol) it wasnt long until "cool" became "shes pretty cute actually" and then "wow shes beautiful" and it just went downhill from there

for pearl she definitely fell in love with marina's looks first,, shes not even gonna lie,, she can be a lil shallow lesbian smh

marina for. obvious reasons cant say she ever found inklings physically attractive, given the. yk. propaganda in the underground

so for her she really admired pearl's inner beauty first and most

i like to think marina was not on the ground *at all* when she was in the military. definitely the one controlling the tech from the sidelines so she never really had to hold a weapon

hence, marina cannot fight. she's too pretty & she will cry

okay well she did grow up underground so she can hold her own when she needs to but she gets frazzled easily and a little overwhelmed. definitely tries to talk or manipulate her way out of tough situations

pearl, surprisingly on the otherhand, can and will beat the shit out of a grown man

well she's scrappy so she'll bite them and claw at them and kick in their shins and they'll run away but not without literal chunks bitten out of them

anything for her queen ✨️🌸

when marina agreed to make a band with pearl, pearl was so excited she immediately suggested marina move into her home (her bodyguards were horrified)

marina,,, immediately politely declined and pearl helped her get an apartment instead

basically, despite appearances and titles, pearl is not the princess who needs protecting by marina , she thinks of it Very differently

pearl's love language is, obviously, words of affirmation and gift giving

her way of "courting" marina was buying her tons of stuff and offering to have people do everything for her so she doesnt have to lift a finger

it worked for all pearl's exs sooooo should work for this octo baddie right (she is not right)

marina's love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation...actually its mostly physical touch lol

yk marina hugging pearl so hard they fall on the ground at the end of octo expansion. and then she keeps Going

marina is "baby i want the most high tech weaponry on the black market" and pearl is definitely "my baby gets whatever she wants laws be damned"

growing up a only child in a family with a LOT of money means pearl definitely got the spoiling but. she never got the feeling of spoiling Someone Else and she prefers that waay more

marina does not have expensive tastes,,, but she doesnt mind being spoiled sometimes as a treat i meann it would be rude to decline n she was raised to be polite soooOO

if marina's friends from the octoling barracks saw the stuff pearl buys her now they would be in Shock

but dont forget,,, marina was team love so shes not overly impressed by *all* the gifts

of all the fancy music gear and clothes and things pearl has bought her marina's favorite gift has just been plain ole flowers

they dont grow underground obviously but theyve always captured marina, the smell the look the different varieties she loves them

when marina thinks of the beauty and joy of being above ground first she thinks of pearl, and then she thinks of flowers

pearl catches on that marina likes flowers and starts ordering her tons of bouquets and starts lining the hallways leading to her apartment with floral gifts and flowers in the shape of her head and all kinds of junk

marina accepted the gifts. politely ofc

but her fondest memory is of her and pearl doing a photoshoot for an album in a wildflower meadow. marina looked so beautiful and Pearl's crushing was driving her crazy so she gathered a bunch of random flowers in her fist and shoved them in marina's face because she had to give her Something or she was gonna loose it

marina felt so fond, she keeps the dry and crumpled flowers in a locket with her all the time

at some point pearl realized marina likes it better when She opens the door for her first instead of pearl's bodyguards so now pearl rushes to every door to open it for marina before anyone else can

*bodyguard opens car door for pearl on side* *pearl runs to the other side of the car to open the door for marina*

pearl snores and drools like a dad of 4 who works a blue collar job 5 days a week and luckily marina is a heavy sleeper.

marina is the small spoon exclusively,,, when they fall asleep. when they wake up pearl is wrapped in marinas arms AND tentacles and she can't Move

whenever they get into fights pearl Always is the one to apologize. not just because shes usually the one whose wrong but marina is scary good at being cold (surprisingly given how affectionate and sweet she is with pearl) and pearl absolutely Hates it, its like the world feels wrong

everyone notices because marina is usually all over her, so pearl gets pressured by her bodyguards to apologize too (they always know shes in the wrong)

marina makes it look easy,,, but shes usually moments away from apologizing herself bc she misses her pearl so much

pearl is one of those people who makes sounds and hand motions to express feelings and marina is usually the only one who understands

marina has literally made a powerpoint presentation on all the things she loves about pearl in great detail. and she will present it do not test her

she's perpetually in the "crushing phase" and gets so excited to spend time with her and pearls like "babe we've been married for 2 years i see u every night and day"

if i was allowed to keep going i would never stop-

[kafkaoftherubble]

所以2023年的最后那这几天你都去哪儿了？

...还问什么问？当然是去玩啦！不然做什么? 在什么树下打坐冥想几天然后悟道吗？哈！

傅尹比俺还有可能来这套啦！

Since I documented the Coldplay event here (and failed to find the time to document the same event in Paradehye, the diary, beyond the journaling scraps written in The Commonest Man in Festo, a.k.a our commonplace book), I'll also record some of the stuff happening on December 23rd and 24th here.

Yo bruh, what else could we have done?

It's fucking CF!

It's our way of semi-celebrating Christmas! Where you get to see Christmas splendor and cheer melding with weeaboo shits! Lotsa lotsa weeaboo shits!

Report: Still way too many Genshin Impact cosplayers. There was also a huge bunch of Chainsaw Man and Jujutsu Kaisen, but generally, I think this year was impressive in its diversity of costumes. There were a lot of really unexpected shits and some old anime/video game/pop culture cosplays reared their heads, but damn, you'll get to the Indisputably Bestest Cosplay Ever In My History of Attending CF real soon, Lyndises of the Future.

This time, we got to invite and induct Sharon, who had been missing from the main family for more than a decade. She couldn't even remember the correct terms she needed to address our uncle and aunt anymore! So the Me At That Time greeted Ah Cik and Ah Jim loudly before she did, so she could copy me!

She also said she had social anxiety and was really nervous about seeing everyone whom she hadn't been meeting for, again, more than a decade. But really? Wei Wei is bonkers and laughs like a banshee with an easy threshold for humor. Ah Jim likes to listen to gossip and is an impressive conversationalist. Ah Cik is an extroverted businessman with an origin as a salesman; holding conversations and making things not-awkward is his forte. Qian Qian takes some time to warm up, but she easily talks a storm when it's something she likes—such as performing on stage and Loki and some manga/manhwa and cats. Hang Hang? Bro dips in and out. But he laughs at the stupidest things until his face flushes and is generally chaotic. He acts like a cool bro and yet his body betrays him by farting when he's excited.

And she's got me. It's my principle not to make anyone feel left out or lonely as best as I can in a given room. What's the point of training to be observant and attentive to people if I couldn't even realize someone's feeling left out?

Oh, it worked out in the end! And I don't think it's because of me, either. It's because she's a good sport who did try to join in on the conversation and listened and talked! And because everyone else was so welcoming to her, too. I really picked the right family to induct her back into the Big Family. Phew. Good thing I was skillful enough at choosing...

(Annoyingly, when I told her we're actually an introvert, she called me a liar. Lyishere called me a liar too just two days ago. Liar?! Moi?!)

Anyway, this was us!

Damn, should have made sure Malaysia's easiest landmark is included in the picture instead of just the Christmas tree. The goddamn Twin Towers where Mei Mei was near in one of the last episodes of Jujutsu Kaisen: Shibuya Incident should have been here...

Why aren't my pocket-flowers showing?

Okay, this one showed a little.

We spent the first day completely inside Art Market so there wasn't time for cosplay pictures. I mean, the market took 5 fucking hours to tour, and I didn't even comb through everything as carefully as I wanted to because Qian Qian was suffocating from the crowd and the smell. Sharon was tired; she had never walked so much before. Conventions are tests of endurance.

This was one of the best stuff in the market! But it was too expensive for my budget. Goddamn it! I swear I will even make space for this amazing ass banner had I bought it. Kulit Wayang style on Zonai aesthetics? Fucking swell!

We did find the Uncle-est Nanami ever while we were on our way out, and honestly, he was one of the best Nanami I found on Day 1! Sure he didn't have the abs and the height, but he had the semblance!

There were some missions, really. Find buff ajuicy Nanami; take pictures of them. Find Nanami re-enactment; take pictures of them. Things I do for Crow Curry, man. THIS IS FOR YOU, YOU NANAMI SIMP!

This cosplayer was so happy, you know? He was so excited to see us excited to take pictures with him, that he forgot his gah-chang, okay? Ya know, the knife?

Even after we left, Qian Qian said she saw him still grinning widely over the whole thing. I didn't even know he could be so happy about it, because cosplayers are so used to being taken pictures. Turned out, his Instagram revealed that this was his first time cosplaying. No wonder!

When we later told Ah Cik about this, his Buddhist ass immediately characterized this as 布施 (Dāna). I mean, none of us thought we were making someone's day, so does it even count? But I'd be lying if I pretended that making one person—goddamn Nanami at THAT—happy didn't please me.

We then walked a few kilometers to Pavilion and the surrounding malls to find some place to eat. KLCC で大変混んでいったから食事が無理だった。

---

Day 2, 24th December 2023

We were pissed not to have taken pictures with any cosplayers (except Uncle Nanami), so we did what Ah Cik and Ah Jim and Wei Wei and Hang Hang thought was insane—BACK TO CF DAY 2!

The best part? I think most people had the same idea as we did! There were even more cosplayers on Day 2! Most of them hung out at the park, like us. I mean, right off the bat we got this:

Dude did work on their eyes!

She couldn't walk without her 4 assistants/friends helping her! Now that's fucking dedication. I wonder if I did end up doing my Monster Rika cosplay (don't bet on it), would I need help walking around too? My ears may be my best sensory organ, but I don't think they are good enough to replace my eyes. I've been a seeing person all my life, after all. I'm also not as good at sensing things as Fionn is...

Fucking found Waldo! And Waldo found us! Yo, here's Wonka over there too!

We looked good for each other, right? Wrong!

Every year during CF, there is a tradition: Qian Qian will always encounter people who just wanna take pictures with her even though she made it explicit that she wasn't cosplaying and was just putting on whatever she likes. The only makeup she ever does is her lips, but she's really pretty and eyeball-attracting, innit? Ha! Stuff like this makes Ah Cik proud.

This professional photographer was just one of the many people who wanted to take pictures of her.

I wonder what it's like to be so visible and eyeball-attracting. All the Past Lyns had wondered the same at some point, right? It would definitely ruin our ability to not be noticed and then jump on someone, that's for sure. Can't be a ghost if you're too visible. But I wonder if being so seen would lessen that feeling of being a see-through not-there... "thing", the way it seemed to be to us throughout our life.

HOLY SHIT ALICE LIDDELL FROM MADNESS RETURNS! Now that's old stuff being brought back!

(Here's the Twin Tower!)

GET IT?! BLUD WAS USING A SWITCH AX! A SWITCH AX!!! AND HE THEN TURNED IT FROM AX MODE INTO GREAT SWORD MODE!

Monster Hunters, riseeeeee! And he wasn't the only MH cosplayer with an amazing weapon prop! There was also a Zinogre cosplay set. You gotta see it for yourself in the album.

I didn't think Cursed Miku would show up, but show up she did!

Okay, here they are. Indisputably Bestest Cosplay Ever In My History of Attending CF:

NANI THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!

Goddamn Guanyin and Buddha cosplays?! And really, this wasn't even the only bunch:

AND THERE WERE AT LEAST TWO GUANYU, AND ONE SUN WUKONG, AND ONE XUANZHANG that we didn't manage to take pictures of—like guys, where did all these deity cosplayers come from?!

Fucking dope though!

Of course, the Nanami Shrine is ALSO hella dope. Hey, wanna see a dead body?

Rate them peaches Rest in Peace!

The Ubiquity of Gojo Satoru: How I Was Space Cleaved by Sukuna and Transported to Another World Along With Many Other Me

You don't always get to see a Mob Psycho 100 cosplay, so all three of us took pictures with them! Mob Psycho 100 is our commonality!

BRUH.

And last but not the least, because it was such a beautiful day where the rain was only half an hour long and a drizzle, and the sun was beautiful, I recorded my official drip of that day,

These are by no means the only pictures we took, guys. Please go to the Google Album attached to the account "black bird" and "short skirt" and "gmail." You know the one.

[eljeebee]

Start of Something New?

Later that day, Sophia and Jason came to the Flea Market just outside of their apartments!

"These are good stuff," Sophia noted as they walked past furniture that their previous owners have thrown out. "Have you bought anything from here?"

"Yeah," Jason nodded. "The free couch that came in my apartment was so worn I had to throw it out. I bought my current couch from here."

"That's cool," she said. After they were finished inspecting a floor lamp she noticed a man selling...rocks and gems?!

"Are those...rocks ang gems!?" she exclaimed, subconsciously dragging Jason to the table. She missed the way his face flushed, but he didn't resist and let her drag him.

"Ah, darn!" she exclaimed again. "I kinda wanna buy some..."

"Oh! Why don't we practice your haggling skills here?" Jason whispered, patting her back.

"Great idea," she smirked.

Sophia approached the table, greeting the vendor. "Hey!"

"Hey, how are you, miss?" the vendor greeted back. "Care to take a look at some of my stuff?"

"Please!" she sighed, scanning the rocks.

She bit her lip, then hesitantly pointed at the yellow gem. "How much is that?"

"That's 95," he said.

"Would you mind if you give it to me for 75?"

"No, sorry, darlin'," he shook his head.

"80?"

He sighed.

"85...?"

"Look, I'm trying to make a living here, if you don't have the money to buy, get out of my face!"

Sophia sputtered, holding out her hands up in defense. Jason quickly stepped in, hands on her shoulders, guiding her away from the table.

"Haha! Haha! I apologize for my friend here. Truly sorry. She's just window shopping! We're gonna...gonna leave you alone now! Take care!"

"There, there," Jason patted her shoulder. "You'll get it next time."

Sophia sighed, "I'm not really good at this..."

"Don't worry," he smiled. "Next time, we'll get it. That's what best friends are for, right?"

She smiled at him, then her lips dropped a little. "Wait...best friends?"

"Oh -- uh...if you like...being best friends? Forever?" Jason bit his lip.

"Oh, Jason!" her heart swelled. "I would love to be your best friend!"

They embraced. "Jason you're the person who welcomed me here, you're a friendly face in this neighborhood and made me feel at home!" she grinned big, letting go of him.

"I was new here too, and I don't want you feeling alone!"

"You're a good friend, Jason," she sighed, clasping her hands.

"Now, why don't you try some of the food they offer here?" he guided her to where the food stalls where at. "Have you been building up your spice tolerance since the last spice fest?"

"Hell yeah!" he grinned, chest puffing out.

"That's my girl!"

My girl! Sophia flushed. Luckily for her, Jason was a few steps ahead, just stopping near the stall and about to order her samosas.

"Mhhhm! Thish ish good!" she groaned, licking her lips. She coughed a little. "Shtill shpishy though!"

Jason laughed. "Glad you like it! I've been trying to cook those, too. Not sure if I've got it though."

"You've gotta let me taste test your dishes," she said, about to bite some more. "W...Wait...My mouth..."

Her mouth blew fire!

Jason laughed, giving her a bottle of water. "Don't worry that happens."

She coughed, downing the bottle, and then took a deep breath. "Damn, that hurts...but it's so good!"

He laughed, shaking his head, watching her down that samosas he bought her.

[gwydionmisha]

Personal:  Gothmas Season is Back, Baby!

Sunday, we went shopping.  By we I mean Head Millennial, Techie Millennial , Techie's New Roommate, and me.  It was insanely hot and muggy, which we had no way of guessing when planning the Ex-pod-ition the night before when it was a perfectly reasonable temperature for mid-September in this micro-climate.  Yes, I know it's October.  *shakes fist at the Koch brothers and every other rich person who bought climate denial during my life time to boost their profit margins*

But it had been early September sane temperatures for a week.  We'd already ripped out the living room air-conditioning the previous weekend so we could start Gothmas Phase I.  (All I've managed is most of the ornaments on one tree.)  We were not expecting Surprise late July in Alabama.  This means not only was the trip to the Good Grocery (Excellent Prices, Solid selection, Employee run) sticky hot, exhausting, and full of human obstacles, but the apartment common area was oven hot when we got home.  It is supposed to be cool, windy, and sporadically rainy.  Fucking Climate change.

Now it is Gothmas Phase II, of which I've managed the easy stuff not involving string lights and ladders, but it's enough to start lighting of an evening outside.  head Millennial helped me get the gear out of the storage closet, then focused on hand making us lasagna to eat while watching our beloved resident Alien  and sipping nice cold floats.

I have already spent two thirds of my food budget for the month and I have my birthday party to get food for mid October.  Sigh.  I did score eight dollars of fruit from the Market Garden before they closed for the season in the morning of their very last day right after open.  I really miss the other fruit and veg stand as they generally stayed open through Halloween, but I really don't blame two people in their '70's for deciding that organizing produce from a bunch of small farms was too damned much.  

For the record, the market garden is produce from one farm, super fresh, as it's harvested right there and placed on display throughout the day, but the selection is smaller than the one that was like a farmer's Market only every day and with one check out.  Seriously, the Market garden is magical and really close to where I live now and they have a good selection given the size of their growing space.  I just wish there were two options instead of one.  It's not like there is any shortage of fresh fruit and produce in this place as we are a part off the country that supplies other areas with the same, so we are spoiled by good, reasonably cheap, fresh food.  Also, the major artery for the west coast means more southerly fruit makes it up here quickly at reasonable prices.  

I never forget we are incredibly lucky to be living were food is.  I grew up in an area where the only biking distance food stores were a tiny corner store and a WaWa (convenience store).  A real grocery store was an hour round trip not counting the actual shopping, and my Gran was living in a Germantown food desert because she wasn't willing to leave the neighborhood where she was born in 1889 and she had a bad arm, so my Mother and Grandmother took it in turn to take her grocery shopping once a week.  I still measure food availabity in things like travel time and spoons and how much a person on foot could reasonably carry for how many miles, because those were the calculation of more than half my life and they still are for my Millennials.

Still, the tiny end of season selection and the last day sign made me sad.

Anyway, we have food.  I've two meals worth of eggplant lasagna in my fridge and one in my stomach, and it's starting to look a bit Gothmasy around the Cat Asylum.

For those not used to the lingo, the Gothmas season starts September 1 and runs to Jan. 7.  Phase one is interior Gothmas decorations like trees and Halloween Town.  Phase 2 is exterior Halloween decorations, Phase 3: we leave everything up inside and pull the Halloween specific stuff from outside while leaving lights, gourds, etc..  Phase 4: yet more interior decorations and more lights everywhere.  It is a disability friendly way to do things and is cheerful for the dark of the year.  I got in the habit for my late longtime partner Skye as even though he was a happy atheist, the social bits of the winter holidays really mattered to him and he missed his family.  It is all very, very Goth to look at since he only specifically theistic things were gifts from assorted relatives and these are black and purple Halloween trees decorated with things like science fiction and Halloween ornaments and Halloween Town stays up throughout.  Phase 5: everything sorted and back in boxes, stowed away for next September.

We call it the Cat Asylum, because back just before the turn of the century, Skye and I took in two rescue cats with serious psychological and resulting behavioral problems.  It is asylum both in the original sense of a safe place, a refuge; and in the sense that it could get pretty wild for the first few years.  For the record, they both lived to their late teens despite health issues related to their abuse and abandonment.  Mache recovered and was the best Queen I ever met and a wonderful, wonderful cat by every measure after the extremely rough first 2-3 years.  hector suffered from nightmares, anxiety, panic attacks his whole life, but he got so much better and was loved his whole life after that first terrible year.  his bad spells went from every day to only once in a while, and he had a really, really good life.  It is still the cat asylum because the the current cats also have issues and this is a safe and supportive environment for them.

[arsenalsquid]

Idk if I ever made a post about how retro game prices are extremely bullshit, but I have a wonderful story about a seller at a flea market.

This lady has been here forever. Many years ago I bought Trauma Center 2 from there for $15. There was no written price on the dang box or a sticky sticker on it, I think all the Wii games were equally priced. $15 for a Wii game in the middle of the Wii U era, you know, maybe for $10, but hey it looked okay, had the manual, and Wii games were still a little relevant.

I went there recently and saw their stand as usual. Even back then they still have the biggest collection... but, now, they also have the worst prices out of the entire flea market. I mean, WOW, Resident Evil 2 for PS1: dirty case, sleeve is okay but normal wear, no inserts, uhhh $140. What?? Huh??? $140 for a lovingly used game?? And I don't even know if the game works!

But look, I've been knowing they have bad prices for a while now. I know they probably price checked the games and slapped the high price without realizing that's for clean and good condition games. I mean dear lord, $60 for Gamecube games where the sleeve is COMPLETELY washed of all color.

But I wasn't looking for any of that. No first party Nintendo game or popular Playstation game. Literally all I was looking for was The Spongebob Movie Game for Gamecube and Hot Wheels Beat That for Playstation 2. Licensed games. Something I don't expect to be freaking $70 or whatever.

So, no Spongebob in the Gamecube section. Alright. Playstation section. And, wow, they actually do have it. But then I look at the price. $40. Fucking... what? Fourty? For a dumbass Hot Wheels game? For a game I bet NO ONE is desperately looking for and therefore shouldn't have such a high price. But, yeah, wow, fuck, $40. Oh but it's old! Old = expensive! Retro!! Ohh it's so hashtag retro! God. No I didn't buy it. Ugh..... well, I do need a new Wii remote. I ask how much it is, it comes with a Nunchuk so that's cool. And- okay, $15. I just leave.

Extra story. Before we visited that stand, we went to a different seller that also focused on selling games. Nothing crazy or a lot, but I found SSX Tricky and got it for $7. No set price, it was made on the spot by him. I mean, DAMN. I am,,, literally stealing from you. However, it kinda baffles me because he knows his old gaming stuff too, he knows how the market for this stuff is, but didn't jack the price to hell to me. I was with my younger cousin and he got OG Xbox Halo 1 for $5 and Atari Donkey Kong for $5 too I think. I was really surprised because I thought such prices were long gone, but, I think he did appreciate us for liking these older things and genuinely wanted us to enjoy what we bought. Would he have sold the same things higher to a much much older adult? Maybe, but I don't know for sure. But he was really cool.

[sirfrogsworth]

First, we had FREEDOM fries and FREEDOM toast... because French people can suck it. They know what they did.

But now BIG TECH is censoring EVERYTHING. You can't say a damn thing if you are a conservative in the US. At this point, why even bother posting on social media?

I mean, look at top-performing link posts by U.S. Facebook pages in the last 24 hours...

1. Fox News 2. Ben Shapiro 3. VOA Burmese News 4. Dan Bongino 5. Peachy Sunday 6. Fox News 7. Diabetes Awareness by GreaterGood 8. Ben Shapiro 9. VOA Burmese News 10. Dan Bongino

FACEBOOK IS SILENCING RIGHT WING VOICES! AHHHHHH!

So we need another dose of freedom.

We need...

THE FREEDOM PHONE!

The Freedom Phone is a new business venture started by Eric Finmen—the world's "Youngest Bitcoin Millionaire."

Wasn't he adorkable?

You see, his folks gave him $1000 to invest when he was 12. He bought a bunch of Bitcoin. Naturally. And when he turned 18, it was worth over a million bucks. By 21 he had 2.3 million dollars and was the pride of capitalism.

So obviously that makes him a $BUSINESS GENIUS$

And not *INCREDIBLY LUCKY*

And because he is a business genius, he has decided to start a new chapter of his life as an entrepreneur. Because we definitely don't have enough of those.

His first entrepreneurial BIG BOY IDEA is selling the FREEDOM PHONE.

Let's check out the specs on this bad boy from the actual website.

Large storage, you say? 6 inches of screen??? GREAT CAMERA!!!

Well, with specificity like that, I'm sold.

People get way too caught up in the gigahertz and megapixels anyway. You don't need to know that stuff. He says it is "affordable, yet fast" and I choose to believe him.

I'm sure it is on par with every other $500 phone on the market—all while being made in the good old U.S. of A.

Because you wouldn't call it a *FREEDOM PHONE* if it weren't American-made.

That would be dumb.

"In fact, Freedom Phone appears to be a simple rebranding of a budget phone called the 'Umidigi A9 Pro,' made by the Chinese tech company Umdigi. In an interview with The Daily Beast, Finman confirmed that the Freedom Phone was manufactured by Umdigi, but couldn't say immediately which Umdigi phone it was based on.

The Freedom Phone's $500 price tag would represent a substantial markup on the A9 Pro. The phone is available on Chinese retail giant AliExpress for $120—less than one-quarter of the price of a Freedom Phone."

— The Daily Beast

Oh.

Ummmmmmmmmm...

Is there anyone out there who can put a positive spin on this? Because I'm failing to think of anything at the moment.

EXACTLY! The OS is chockfull of FREEDOM and that's what really matters.

Real AMERICAN developers toiled over the FreedomOS to make sure it was as free as humanly possible. I'm sure this OS is built from the ground up and that extra $400 expense is due to the extensive R&D needed to create this marvel of digital liberty.

SEE! IT'S BASED ON FREE SPEECH!

Annnnd... it is BASED on something called GrapheneOS, apparently.

Okay, so full disclosure.

The FreedomOS developers may have used an already developed Android fork and skinned it to look more... Freedom-y. You saw the cool flag wallpaper, right?

Truthfully, licensing that wallpaper was the bulk of the development cost. They may not have done much beyond aesthetic tweaks.

That is... except for the UNCENSORABLE APP STORE!!

*patriotic fanfare*

*eagle caws in the distance*

*someone is shot in a hunting accident*

This is where that extra $400 of value comes in. No apps will be censored. EVER. You can get your Gab and your Parler and your Gettr. And you never have to worry about those apps being unavailable because Zuckerdumb said NO.

Okay, full disclosure again.

99% of the apps banned in the iPhone and Google Play stores are due to things like malware, viruses, and illegal activity. So for every Parler that goes uncensored—so does the app that looks just like Parler but is titled "Parler Totally the Real One" and is full of viruses ready to steal your banking information. And an app store without restrictions could also end up being a haven for child pornography and illegal drug sales.

But hey... PARLER, AMIRITE?

Soooo... what happens if you don't like this incredible $500 phone worth $120?

Good news! There is a *stellar* return policy.

You get the box. You stare at the box. You DO NOT open the box.

And if that experience is unsatisfying, you can return that box within 30 days.

If you get the box. Cut a hole in that box. Stick your freedom in that box.

Well... hopefully you like it.

In conclusion, it's hard to put a price on freedom.

Sure, this is probably a giant grift.

And this conservative Bitcoin douche doesn't seem to mind grifting his own political brethren.

Because capitalism is his mistress and loyalty is fleeting in the whitest rightest of wings.

But if you want FREEDOM in your smartphone, you should definitely pay this clearly trustworthy bleach blonde, scruffy chinned lottery winner $500 for a cheap Chinese Android phone that will fill up with viruses faster than you can boot up the phone (because it is made with inferior hardware and booting probably takes a while).

[in-tua-deep]

Are you into my hero academia? What about an AU or crossover with tua?

UHHHH I am technically, like, peripherally? I watched some seasons of the show like two or three years ago and since then have simply absorbed all content through osmosis, reading fanfiction that has canon events, and my sister telling me about the arcs of her fav characters lmao

so a crossover hmmm

First of all you'd have to like, establish whether bnha is an alternate universe or just The Future If No Apocalypse with quirks being traced back to the descendants of the kids born without mothers

So let's say it's that - the glowing baby was the "first quirk" but the truth is people had powers before that. But - well, the Umbrella Academy was obviously a marketing gimmick to those in the future! There were even comics based on them

In the future, you might find some of those comics in museum exhibits dedicated to depictions of powers in the pre-quirk era, but they're just fun depictions and much less popular than, oh, DC or MCU comics which are also in the exhibits!

End of s2 doesn't happen I guess in this au?? No sparrow academy at least lmao. So, the Umbrella Academy stop the apocalypse (again) and the Commission threat is? Neutralized? Whatever. They decide to jump back to the future

Five warns them that time travel is a crapshoot, that he has no fucking idea when they'll land beyond some nebulous "future" because Five can at least control the direction if not exactly how long

Also, Five is like. Super tired. Incredibly tired. Homeboy still has a healing gut wound, time traveled twice, has been jumping all over the place, gotten even more injured, experienced paradox psychosis, and managed to undo time all in the space of like, two weeks. There actually more than that but we don't have time to get into how fucking tired Five is from his ~Month of Hell

Like genuinely this is like putting someone almost delirious from lack of sleep in the driver's seat of a car and expecting to get to your destination in one piece

But hey, the siblings are like "do it uwu" and Five has sacrificed everything for them already so why not get behind the wheel again

So Five jumps them, and of course something goes wrong because Five has pushed his powers like a great big rubber band and honestly it was only a matter of time before he lost his grip and it snapped back to hit him

So here be the umbrella academy: spilled out into the future like a cup of bad coffee.

Five probably isn't in too good of shape tbh, like they're hundreds of years in the future (but hey at least confirmation of no apocalypse am I right) in a world full of superpowers and Five is like. bleeding from his ears and nose probably idk

Let's handwave a little bit - Reginald made them all polyglots so the squad all speak varying levels of Japanese. Allison is the best at it, Five is second best but tends to use more archaic words bc he had missions in Japan back when he was with the commission, and Klaus is third best.

(Ben is the worst bc he decided when he was 16-and-dead that he didn't have to do anything regarding lessons and maintenance and hasn't given a shit since - but also he's dead so)

So you have a bunch of weird adults with a bleeding child in like, an alley who have appeared from nowhere

so of course heroes get involved

Anyway, the squad get taken in and Five is conscious but like, barely? And he's not going to let himself get separated from his siblings again fuck-you-officer and there is a lot of confusion

anyway detective tsukauchi ends up getting involved and ends up having to hear this batshit story and be like "...truth." which sends all kinds of people scrambling because fucking time travel? Like yeah, it's been theorized to be a possible quirk but there's no recorded cases of any sort of time travel that is for more than 24 hours let alone hundreds of years

"I'm an adult." Five says sourly, "I just happened to be returned to my 13 year old body when I time traveled one time."

"True." Tsukauchi says, feeling his soul leave his body, but like. absently. the way he does when he's called in at 2am after getting off of work at midnight.

"I'm 58." Five says.

"Lie." Tsukauchi says, because this is a headcanon hill I will die on.

"I'm probably 58, but it was hard to keep track. I'm at least 50." Five corrects.

"True." Tsukauchi sighs like these six (seven? they keep referring to another sibling and Klaus said 'ghost' like that was fine and it registered as true and Tsukauchi is not nearly paid enough for this) are not giving him a migraine by just existing

on the bright side there's like, probably protocols in place for individuals who are Legally Chronologically Adults but thanks to quirks are Not Physically Or Not Mentally Adults with tests to determine if the individual needs a guardian or not

though i'm gonna be honest idk if Five would pass the test bc he literally cannot take care of himself at all, has never paid taxes or understands how to exist legally, and also his emotional maturity is stunted as all hell. also like. we don't actually know how much being in his thirteen-year-old body affects his mental state but yeAH Five is vibing

anyway Tsukauchi probably phones a friend on this bullshit because Time Travel Child alone is probably enough for the Hero Commission to be like "find a way to control and use it or nuke it from orbit" and that's not even touching whatever the fuck Klaus is doing (shit gets real once 'dead men tell no tales' stops being true) let ALONE Allison's whole deal

on the bright side like, at least Vanya isn't getting side-eyed that much bc Big Destructive Quirks aren't exactly unknown? if vanya wanted to i guess quirk suppressors exist for that until extensive training on how to control a super powerful quirk happens

Tsukauchi in the group chat: Aizawa please I am literally begging you to take this bullshit on

Aizawa: in this economy? with my class?

RatGod: lol we'll take them ;3c

Aizawa: no

Anyway they probably end up having to live at UA while Five insists on trying to get them home still and everyone else is like "oh hey we used to be child soldiers as well! (:" and Aizawa is like "i hate everything about this and everything about all of you but also like nedzu is making me interact with you so :/"

nedzu is out here vibing like "lol i just don't want the hero commission to get their little paws on these time traveling fuckers, i think you should make then teaching assistants or something"

honestly the siblings are probably like. figuring out how to function in the bnha universe and getting like, legally registered and stuff while Five ferally refuses bc that's like saying he's giving up on getting them home and he can do this

Recovery girl tries to heal him a little when he arrives and he passes out for two weeks like, immediately bc homeboy is running on fumes and spite at this point

also i think on principle it would be REALLY FUNNY if the squad got to tag along with the class bc like. Five is thirteen and the class are all 15. this does not sound like a large age gap. anyone who has interacted with teenagers know that the class would squint at Five and be like "who is this sassy lost middle schooler."

I feel like when I was a sophomore we were still like "freshman... babie" even though we were literally only one year older.

i think the difference between the umbrella academy and school kids would be pretty funny like. objectively the bnha kids are lowkey child soldiers?? like they're 15 and fighting villains but like, there's all this red tape and laws and stuff but,,, deku still be breaking his limbs in a child fighting ring against equally superpowered children for like. entertainment and sponsorships sooo

but also like Five would be like "oh cool when is the experimentation class"

"the what"

"you know, when your powers are pushed real hard by putting you in different terrible situations while your dad and sibling stand by with clipboards writing down the exact voltage it takes before you can't use your powers anymore when being electrocuted"

"hound dog's office is right there. therapy is available to you at any time. i need you to know this."

all might calls Luther "my boy" like one (1) time and Luther just breaks down crying probably because he is starved for positive attention

klaus and midnight get along like a literal house on fire, aizawa tried his best to keep them apart for as long as possible but god damn

(klaus: your name is shimura nana??

all might: immediately dies choking on blood)

i feel it absolutely necessary to point out that aizawa, present mic, and midnight are all like, 30? and the umbrella academy are all between 29-early 30s? they are PEERS but like. the umbrella academy are more chaotic due to childhood trauma

the umbrella academy probably get offered to like. also train to be heroes. i mean,, there HAS to be some sort of track for people who change careers right?? you don't have to cement your future as a hero when you're 15 i'm sure there must be something and the squad already have experience if they want to go be legal heroes

diego probably does at least?? diego just vibes honestly. diego gets momo to make knives during a team exercise and they just go feral on everyone else and it ends with diego highfiving momo and someone getting way to close to being stabbed for comfort

Five might just be. legally enrolled as an Actual Student? But also i think it's funny to picture the entire squad just. all in the back of the classroom with luther trying to fit into a high school desk as they take notes on the laws of The Future surrounding heroics

every word out of the umbrella academy's mouths just make everyone more concerned on principal but like, five and klaus are probably the worst offenders. Klaus just says whatever comes to mind with no filter and Five doesn't get what people would consider to be abnormal anymore like

Five: yeah our dad bought us when we were babies and experimented on us throughout our childhood in order to make an elite team of child soldiers superheroes, it happens

Todoroki: ...have you heard of quirk marriages?

izuku probably has an aneurism bc he's is the only person who might recognize them from the comics because you know ya boy extensively researched the idea of heroics in pre-quirk eras (batman was an inspiration alright???) and might dredge up a memory of a less popular comic series

Five: I can time travel but it is very hard, which is why we are hundreds of years in the future. And why I look like a child.

Kaminari: so are you a kid or not?

Five, serenely: whatever is most convenient for me at any given moment

Mina: hell yeah game the system

they have a brief lesson on astronomy and Luther raises his hand like "ooh! i was isolated on the moon for four years and did SO MUCH research" and then just gets up and starts infodumping like way too much information on the moon

Izuku sitting there like "damn if quirks hadn't popped up we could have achieved so much in terms of space travel. please tell me more giant man who lived in pre-quirk era."

Vanya finds out about the quirkless and is like "oh mood that genuinely sounds like my childhood, being ordinary in a house full of extraordinary people, and then i found out that i did have powers but only much later in life after i had already been emotionally scarred by the experience"

deku: vanya we have so much in common

iida and uraraka: concerned noises

aizawa: hound dog. therapy with hound dog for all of you.

there's probably some conflict with like, the hero commission wanting to get their hands on the time travelers?? but probably especially five and klaus as a) time travel and b) ghosts (the hc def has bodies they would like to stay buried)

five has a pavlovian reaction to anything with 'commission' in the name and hates them on site, probably plays into his age in order to become a ward of UA or something to protect him from the commission a little bit.

(this makes nedzu Five's legal guardian. aizawa has his resignation papers all prepped in a drawer marked 'in case of emergency' but let's be real, if nedzu wants to take over the world aizawa should probably be on the rat-bear's side of things :/)

five: ah, i do recall the inhumane experimentation that we were subjected to

nedzu, who was experimented on: haha same hat! want me to dig up the location of reginald hargreeves's remains so you can spit on them?

klaus: nah no worries we dumped them out in the courtyard unceremoniously like, a while back. how long ago varies for each of us because of time travel!

luther: you said hound dog's office was down the hall and to the right?

on the bright side, Luther probably feels like. way less self conscious about his body, partially bc of his fighting and all that in the 60s but also bc !! now he genuinely doesn't feel like a freak. no one even gives him a second glance. one of the teachers looks like a slab of cement with a face. gang orca looks Like That. there is literally a student with an entire bird head and goth aesthetic. Luther does not stick out at all

allison and shinso bond over having "villainous" voice-based quirks

allison and shinso having worn muzzles at some point in their youth as punishment 🤝

aizawa probably helps train vanya as well with the whole, being able to erase a world ending quirk safely thing he's got going on which makes for a very nice safety net

i don't think vanya would want to be a hero at the end of things though. maybe the assistant teacher in the music class or something?? all vanya wants is to be able to not end the world

i feel like as time goes by, five brings up trying to get home less and less. part of that is because like,,, genuinely what do they have to go back to?? Allison has Claire, but like. I'm 100% sure the first thing she did in the future was try track down Claire's records and found out Claire was like. fine. became an adult, had a family, probably became the ancestor of the first "quirked" kids who officially popped up after light baby. had a good life, died at an old age etc. etc.

they start settling into the bnha world with like, "we can always hop aboard the five express into where the fuck ever" as a plan Z if things go completely pear shaped (again)

i'mma be real, five himself doesn't give a fuck as long as there is a) no apocalypse and b) his family is alive. Like that's it. His bar is so incredibly low and yet his life keeps fucking trying to limbo under it

i just think it would be funny to have like, Five trying to get along with his "peers" and make friends while the siblings do the same but like, in the staff room

also think it would be funny for five to just walk into the staff room and get coffee occasionally.

a teacher: why is a student in here -

Five, sipping coffee: i'm an adult

nedzu like "what kind of guardian would i be if i didn't teach my new son all the tunnels around ua so he can pop out wherever"

five like "hey new dad can i put stashes of supplies all around ua of weapons, money, food, and other assorted things that might be useful if one needed to fight or make a run for it" and nedzu is like "haha just put your list of what supplies you want in your go bags on my desk and i'll critique it later!"

anyway a bnha/tua crossover would be incredibly chaotic but probably very funny

[beskar-cowboy]

The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight

Part 4 of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series

Summary: You catch an accidental glimpse of the Mandalorian without his helmet, his instincts kick in. (4.4k words) link to read on ao3 here

Warnings: NSFW, Mando is kind of mean, the helmet is off but its still canon?, PIV sex, rough sex, he low-key kinda threatens the reader idk, spanking, soft ending to make up for whatever the fuck i just wrote <3 

A/N: this series will be uploaded in a non-linear order! i realize that this way of doing things might not be everyone’s favourite so please let me know if you would like to be notified when all the parts are uploaded (linearly in my masterlist) <3

Perhaps swaddling the child to your chest on a desert planet was not the smartest idea. The heat was blistering, even though you wore less layers than usual. Just a tank top, some utility shorts and a blaster holstered to your thigh. And the baby of course, who had not stopped babbling since you left the ship, the only thing distracting you from this damned heat.

You could only imagine how Mando was feeling underneath all that beskar as he walked alongside you in silence, only stealing glances every now and then, as he usually did.

Even after travelling with them for half a cycle now, Mando still withheld so much from you.

Even after the two of you slept together for the first time, after some close call on some jungle planet, he still retreated into his usual silence.

But there were more gentle touches now, more lingering hands, more helmet tilts, but he still hadn’t let you in. You were okay with that, you knew that this was what he was used to, so you didn’t think too much about it.

You let him take what he needs without asking too many prying questions. If you were being honest, you liked the way he used you, you liked how he took it out on you, you liked how rough he got, how possessive, how starved he could be.

It had only amounted to a couple of times over the last month but… but you loved it. You looked forward to it, you thought about it, dreamt of… dreamt of him, of Mando, inside you, above you, under you-

Mando squeezed his large hand around your bicep, breaking you from your thoughts before nodding to you, then he departed. Off to meet with… whoever.

You stayed in the market and bought stuff for the ship.

Some new screws and bolts for parts that were missing or had to be fixed, food rations, dried meat, fruits that you knew Mando was fond of, some weird, shiny little trinkets the child seemed attracted to, and a new bar of soap. You had just finished the last one a few days prior.

After buying the necessities, you wandered around the little market with the child, bouncing him up and down against your chest and talking to him softly. He was very responsive today, not seeming too bothered by the heat thankfully.

But the sun was high in the sky, most likely at its peak, and it was unrelenting. The desert environment of the planet gave way to little shaded spots so you looked for water instead, finding a little mist station where children laughed and played. You ran through it a few times with the child, he screeched with joy.

On your last run through the mist, you caught sight of Mando approaching the two of you again.

That saunter… the way he walked was so intimidating, so sensual. You couldn’t help but let a shy smile stretch across your face at the people who cowered away in fear of the bounty hunter.

You made sure you had all your things in your sling, checking to see that the child hadn’t dropped his new toy and then you were off, heading back to the ship.

The walk felt longer now due to the long exposure you both had in the sun. Mando seemed to be trudging along just the same as you, profusely sweating and in desperate need for some water. And a shower.

Mando opened the hatch and you both stumbled inside, dropping your bags and untying the child from your chest where he had left a giant sweat stain from how tightly he had been pressed to you. Suddenly aware of how sweaty, sticky and disgusting you must seem, the only thing on your mind was a shower.

“I got you some Meiloorun, they seemed ripe.” You smiled at him as you gently placed the child on the floor of the Crest. He waddled towards his father, trying to show him his new toy.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He said in your direction, that deep modulated voice making you shiver. He seemed hesitant to look away, but picked up the child regardless, letting him show off his new shiny thing. Mando took it into his hands, playing with him, you smiled fondly.

“I’m going to go take a shower if that’s okay? To cool down a bit.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to ask his permission after all this time but you still felt the need sometimes. Maybe he would want help putting the stuff away that you had bought, maybe he wanted you to help with the child or something? You just couldn’t help the way your mind only fixated on the sweat and grime sticking to your flesh.

“Of course.” Mando nodded. You nodded back, turning on your heels to head into the ‘fresher just around the corner in the low cabin of the Crest.

You leave the door open, you think you don’t mind Mando seeing you if he decides to look or happens to catch a glimpse. Even though he’s never taken any of his armor off (besides his gloves) for you before, he’s seen every single inch of you.

You quickly peeled off your damp clothing, turning the water on and making sure it wasn’t too cold but cool enough to relax your heat exhausted body. You stepped in quickly, eager to cool yourself down.

You visibly relaxed as soon as the water hit your burning skin, your shoulders sagging, a sighing escaping your lips. You dug your fingers into your own flesh, trying to knead the tender muscles which strained under the weight of the child and the supplies. It wasn’t much but you still ached, the heat had definitely contributed to that.

Supplies… your new bar of soap! You had been excited to use it but completely forgot about it the second you returned to the ship, mind wiped blank by the desire to rid yourself of your dirty clothes.

Suddenly thankful you left the door to the refresher open, you stick your head out from behind the curtain and call for Mando, wondering if he could retrieve the sparkly blue soap bar for you.

Instead of being met with an empty doorway, you’re met with something else. And it’s as if the world moved around you in slow motion, your emotions moving over you like molasses.

First, confusion.

Hair. A head full of light brown, golden hair. It curled near the ends, into little wisps. It couldn’t be-

No. That couldn’t be Mando. It was as if your brain refused to acknowledge the shiny beskar that sat underneath that head of hair, refusing to realize it was the tin covered man you were looking at.

Second, curiosity.

Your eyes scanned over his head, taking in the way the bathroom light shined over his hair, making it reflect all different shades of brown and caramel.

It was now that you realized that his head was turning, that’s why the light was bouncing off it so dynamically.

His head continued to turn. An ear.

Third, shock.

It was only when you saw the sliver of skin, the shell of his ear, the inner workings of the intricate cartilage, and the profile of his supple cheekbone that you let out a startled, and perhaps unnecessary, shriek.

Your hands flew up to cover your eyes, to shield them from the forbidden view. You turned back into the shower, facing the wall, away from Mando.

He saw more of you than you had of him. He saw the way your chest heaved, the way the water flew off your body as you twirled to face the tiled wall of the shower, away from him. He watched the water hit your back-

You had seen him. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

He hated the way his instincts kicked in. He hated the way he was trained to kill whoever saw him, whoever looked, whoever dared unmask him.

Almost innately, his hand reached for the light switch, plunging the refresher into darkness as he stalked towards you, pressing his hand to your head and pinning you against the cool tile of the shower forcefully and efficiently.

Mando’s body followed suit, bringing both of you underneath the steady shower stream, pinning himself against your backside. The cold bite of his beskar in contrast to the cool water making you whimper, the force of his hand pressing your cheek into the wall made you see stars behind closed eyelids.

“What did you see?” He asked, voice gruff, strained, unmodulated.

Fuck.

Of all the months you had spent aboard the Razor Crest, living with him, fucking him, you had never heard his voice without the helmet, without some sort of barrier. You regret the way it made you moan, how easily he could make you melt.

“N-nothing, I didn’t-”

“What did you see?” He pressed onto your harder, with his hand and his body weight, pining you completely to the wall, making you at his mercy. You cry out at his cold touch, at his harshness. Mando had been frustrated, even angry, with you before but now… now he was about to truly end you.

But all you could think about was how beautiful his real voice sounded. It always sounded beautiful to you, from the moment you met him, it had made you weak, but this… this was unlike anything you could have imagined.

“Hair,” you cry, unsure if you were truly crying or if it was just water from the endless stream running above both of you now. “I s-saw your hair, your ear… I-I’m sorry-” You hiccup, trying to regain your breath and not inhale too much water as your chest heaved.

Without the helmet Mando was quickly realizing that he could genuinely hear you for the first time, your trembling voice ringing through his ears without being slightly distorted by the helmet’s filters. He could….

He could smell you too. The sweet scent of your skin, of your wet hair tangling in his fingers as he continued to hold you in between the tiles and his unforgiving beskar.

You… the sight of you pinned against him, your wet skin, water dripping down your flesh in rivulets, your whimpers, your cries, your tears, the way your eyes closed, the way you kept them closed even now, drowning in darkness, your cheek flush against the tile.

Completely at his mercy.

You weren’t even fighting him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against your temple. You whimpered at his sudden movement, so on edge.

You knew he was trained to kill. You knew what happened to people who even attempted to look at him. You had seen it, you had been there when it happened once, ignorant vendors trying to taunt him, trying to tease the Mandalorian. How stupid they were, now dead somewhere in a ditch. Would he do that to you? It would be so easy for him...

Mando wondered if you could see him in the darkness as well as he could see you. He knew you couldn’t, the lack of windows deprived the room of any light sources. Luckily, his eyes were trained and used to harsh environments, low visibility. Luckily, he could see you trembling against him.

He removed his hand from your head, sliding both of his hands now to hold your hips, digging his blunt nails into the flesh, leaving crescent moon-shaped indents behind. You yelped at the sting but didn’t pull away. You liked it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop talking.” He growled and you bit your lip, unaware that you had opened your eyes due to the deep, dark abyss you had been plunged into.

You could truly not see a thing. All your senses became focused on the way Mando touched you, the way he’s wedged you between the wall and himself, the death grip he had on your hips, the way his breaths came out quickly and evenly onto your cheek. He was breathing almost as hard as you were.

He nudged his nose onto your cheek and you nudge your cheek back onto him, trying to remind him that it was just you, that you’re not a threat, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

This is The Way. This is The Way… This is The Way… This… is-

Fuck. You were distracting him. Your little whimpers, the way you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. So willing, you were always so willing for him. So fucking easy and it drove him crazy.

His skin… it felt so good against yours. You had only felt the rough, rarely tender caress of his rough palms. Never of his face, his lips, his nose… You felt like you were being driven insane, you couldn't believe how close his unmasked face was to yours.

You could kiss him…

Mando continued to rub his nose against you, suddenly so lost in the feel of your skin against his. No one had ever been so close to him, so invasively close, breathing in and breathing out the same air, sharing. Feeling your eyelashes flutter against his own, your lips, open panting, swollen and pliant and inviting. He could… he could-

“Mando-”

You’re cut off by his hand suddenly slithering down your body and cupping your cunt. You gasp, unable to help the way your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, into his own hips as well, feeling a growing hardness between his legs.

You were hot, so, so hot down between your thighs. Slippery too, and Mando knew it wasn’t just the water. It was thick, sticking to his fingers, practically begging for him. Mando groaned against your open lips, both of you panting into each other’s open mouths.

“You... you fucking like this, don’t you?” He rasped, biting onto the side of your bottom lip. You whimpered, hips bucking into his hand again. What were you supposed to say? How were you to answer that?

Yes Mando, I like how fucking intimidating you are.

Yes Mando, I like how much bigger you are than me, how easy it would be for you to snap me like a twig.

Yes Mando, I like when you’re rough with me, I get off on it, I crave it, I-

“Fucking answer me.” Mando growls, latching his teeth onto your earlobe now. His hand continued to cup your sex, not truly going anywhere near where you needed him. You still couldn’t fucking comprehend that he was without his helmet, his face right next to yours…

“Yes!” You squeaked as his fingers brushed along the inside of your folds, parting you, dragging his fingers along the length of you, slipping through your sweet cyprine. You let out an unholy moan, so ashamed at how easy you were for him.

Mando kisses your ear, trails his tongue down your neck, collecting the water that pebbles down your flesh as if it were syrup.

This… is, The Way. This is- The Way-

His fingers brush up against your clit accidentally and you buck into him again, desperate for any sort of friction, any sort of attention he could give you.

Mando was trying to calm himself down. He had just been on the brink of snapping your neck and now he was overcome with lust, the desire to fuck you, stuff you full of his cock. The two extremes were dizzying, he felt drunk off of some fancy and expensive cider from some far off planet in The Core. But he supposes that’s just what you did to him.

Before he even realizes it, he’s unzipping his pants, letting the top fall undone and pulling his cock out, letting it rest against your backside. You bite your lip, trying to turn your head to look towards him but your eyes are unable to adjust, you feel as though you can see the outline of his face but… but you’re sure it’s an illusion of the dark.

“Please, Mando-” You weren’t one to beg, Mando wasn’t one to make you beg because he was always as desperate, always as pent up, touch-starved, hungry as you were.

When you two fucked it was never slow, never drawn out, never languid, luxurious. No, it was rough, mean, volatile, desperate and just fucking needy. You needed each other, and Mando fucked you like it would always be the last time, every time. Like he would never have you again, like he would never split you open again.

Mando shoves his entire length into you in one hard thrust, knocking the wind out of you from how deep he reaches so easily at this angle. He rests for a moment, savouring the way your pussy flutters and clenches around him from the sudden intrusion, trying to adjust to his substantial length.

His head pressed right up against yours, he can hear all the pretty sounds you're making, even over the loud patter of water against his beskar which begins to weigh him down from how soaking wet it's getting.

But Mando doesn’t care, he can’t, not when you’re whimpering for him in that pretty way you do, not when you clench so tight around him that he feels like he could cum without even having moved. You beg, you beg and beg and beg for him to move but he just closes his eyes and feels you pulse, hot and tight and snug around him with that perfect little cunt of yours.

You hadn’t seen him, he thinks to himself. You hadn’t actually seen him, he’s okay, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

You.

Quivering at the end of his cock, moaning, grasping at the tiles, trying to find purchase on something, taking him all the way in like you always do, like a good fucking girl.

He hadn’t even realized that he had started thrusting, in and out with reckless abandon, bottoming out every single time before pounding back into you, making you whimper and cry.

“W-what’s my name?” He asks suddenly, pulling you from floating away towards whatever astral plane you were near close to ascending too, the one his thrusts were pushing you towards as he rearranged you from the inside out.

You had to think, you had to think of his name because your find was blank, he was fucking you dumb.

“Mando.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the cold tiles, keeping your head turned so that he could keep his face pressed into your cheek, nose nudging yours, lips brushing but not kissing.

“No… what’s my fucking name?” He grits from behind clenched teeth, punctuating his words between harsh, unforgiving thrusts. You hiccup, unable to swallow down air properly as he fucks you into the wall.

His name?

What did he-

Oh.

His name. Mando had never told you his name, his actual name.

Was this a test? You shook your head ‘no’ as his arms wrapped around you, locking you in place as his ungloved hands came to grope at your breasts, using your own body as leverage to fuck into you harder. You let out a wanton moan, throwing your head back, letting it rest on his beskar covered shoulder. You turned your head and let your lips brush against his cheek but he turned his head too, lips brushing against his own and you both gasped and whimpered in unison. He seemed insistent on not kissing you, so you just went along with it, all your wits being literally fucked out of you.

“I-I don’t know.” You finally answered, your voice coming out small, between laboured breaths.

You didn’t know him, he thought. He still had something of his identity held in privacy, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know him.

“You don’t- you don’t know me,” He begins to say and it makes you cry, you cry against his mouth, your body shaking, bouncing against his, water beating down on both of you. “B-but you still let me fuck you like this, don’t you sweet girl?”

You scream. You scream when his hand lets go of your left breast only to come back down onto it, slapping the underside of the supple flesh. You wail and cry and moan the only name he’s ever told you.

Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando.

He grabs your jaw in one of his strong hands, angling your face towards his, a sight unseen.

“Answer me when I speak to you, cyar’ika.” He says forcefully, regardless of the nickname.

“Y-yes.” You choke out, trying to nod your head in his tight hold but you barely can. You were right on the brink, you felt as if he were to say one more thing in that deep, rough voice of his you would cum.

“Yes, what?” He grits, fucking your harder, moving his hand down to your neck and pushing you back against the cold tiles, making you yelp and cry for him, at the cool bite of ceramic materials.

“It’s c-cold, Mando.” You whine. He slaps your ass, his hand cracking down on your flesh, no doubt leaving a mark to find again tomorrow. You squeeze your eyes shut, bordering on overstimulation from his cock, his slaps, the water turning colder.

The ship never had a great water supply.

“Answer me.” He fucks you harder, faster, deeper, un-preciously and slaps your ass again, the other cheek this time.

“Y-yes! Yes I..I still l-let you… let you fuck me like this!” You cry and shake against the tile.

Mando’s arms quickly wrap around like they had before, hauling you back into his body. He snakes his hand down and rubs against your clit in fast, precise motions.

Almost instantaneously, your mind goes blank, your eyes roll into the back of your head. One of his arms wraps across your front, against your chest, holding your shoulder in a death grip, his other hand still working on your clit, his thrusts unrelenting as you cum and cum and cum around his thick cock.

“That’s it. That’s it... Good f-fucking girl.” He rasps, holding you tightly, thrusting a few more times before he empties himself inside you with a growl, painting your walls with him, branding you, owning you.

You moan at the sensation, the way his hot cum fills you to the brim before leaking out, back onto his cock and down the backs of your thighs. You both pant, your chest heaving in time with his as he fucks it back into you as deep as it’ll go, stuffing you so, so full of him. 

You keep your eyes closed, afraid of opening them, afraid he can see you even in this darkness. Even though you know he can.

Mando stays inside you until he’s softened, relishing in the way your pussy trembles around his girth, sucking him in as deep as you can for as long as possible.

When he eventually does pull out with a low growl, you hear him twist the knobs of the shower, the water suddenly becoming warmer, heating your now freezing skin. All these temperature changes were making you feel light-headed, the rough fuck you just got from Mando not helping your case either.

“Wha-”

“Stay here, warm up.” Mando cuts you off, you hear him step out of the shower.

A series of loud bangs resonate throughout the refresher, making you jump. Only one thing could be that loud. Is he… removing his beskar?

“Mando-”

“You’re always so cold when we’re travelling… can’t believe you were taking a cold shower.” He mumbles to himself, you can imagine him shaking his head. You’re stunned honestly, at how much he’s talking, especially without the helmet, that fact alone still lost on you. His voice was so beautiful, you had thought it to yourself about a hundred times now since you first realized he took the helmet off.

You stand under the warm stream, your quaking shivers slowly dissipating. You feel his presence enter the shower again, this time you can clearly feel his body heat, more flesh. He’s naked.

Mando is standing naked with you in the shower.

You involuntarily step away from him but he catches you, his hand landing on your waist, his hand softly grasping the flesh there. Such a stark contrast to the way he just fucked you into oblivion.

He’s naked.

This man had never removed anything besides his gloves. Even when he fucked you, the armor stayed on. You’re not sure if it was an issue of trust or due to his boundaries or his Creed. But considering he almost just killed you for accidentally seeing his ear and cheek, and was now standing naked with you in the dark… well, maybe it was a bit of both. You were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this, nothing was making sense to you.

The hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, your chests and bellies bump together and you gasp. Mando is firm, you knew this but… but to actually feel him against you, well, you could cry about it honestly.

You felt uncertain about what to do with your hands, unsure if you were allowed to touch him but you tentatively lifted them to his chest anyways, letting them rest against his solid pecs. His skin was soft despite the random series of raised flesh that seemed to brand him, his scars. You don’t think you ever wanted to see someone’s scars, someone’s skin as badly as you do now. But you would right out ask for it, you couldn’t.

You felt Mando lift something to your skin, it was smooth as it glided along your arm, your shoulders, across your back. A fruity, earthy scent filled your nose.

Your bar of soap.

He must have grabbed it before he took off his beskar. You lean into him unknowingly, the hand at your waist moving to hold you against him more easily as he washed you. You let your face rest against his chest, the little spot where his throat meets his collarbones. He smelled like sweat, grime, gun powder, he smelled like Mando.

You pressed your lips to the skin, the skin you knew was tanned and rugged, worn down, tired, in need of more kisses than he would let you give.

At the gentle press of your lips, that’s when Mando speaks again. It’s so hushed amongst the falling water, you almost miss it, but the few words don’t fall deaf to your ears, you hear every letter, every syllable.

“My name...” You look up to where his face would be, trying to imagine what expression he wears as he speaks to you in the dark. Your forehead not too far from his lips, you can almost feel the ghost of them on your flesh. 

“My name is Din.”

[ot3tropetober]

-So Hardison gets rich playing the stock market as a teen in Nana’s basement. Mostly because the professor at the college econ classes he’s taking for extra credit said he couldn’t.

-By the time he’s graduating highschool at 18 he is filthy rich. (WhatLikeItsHard.gif) He has paid off Nana’s medical bills and her house and went over to the college to gloat a little and decided he doesn’t actually need to go to college when he’s already, you know, doing what he does.

-But he doesn’t wanna keep taking up Nana’s basement when he has heard her having to turn down emergency placements because there’s not enough room. 

-So he moves out. Into a giant mansion, because why not. He has everything. A pool. A fancy kitchen. A shower with like 16 sprays that massage your back perfectly. A hallway with a giant fancy staircase. A whole room dedicated to his computer setup, with all the latest gadgets. A special wine fridge he stocked full of orange soda. A damn fireplace in his bathroom.

-A lot of empty rooms. And quiet. Like, creepy-quiet. Right-before-the-killer-grabs-you-in-the-hallway quiet. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he forgets there is a mirror at the end of one of the hallways. His shriek echoes through the empty house.

-He considers getting a cat for one second but remembers he’s allergic. And it would probably just startle him even more. He gets a few roombas, but even with the giant googly eyes they don’t fill the space as much as he’d hoped. So instead he places an ad online for roommates. 

-He doesn’t get nearly enough responses as he suspects. Maybe ‘come live in my mansion rent free’ gives off some major serial killer vibes. He amends his ad to a reasonable but still low enough rent that people who really need a place can apply. 

-He runs background checks on everyone who applies. He may or may not disqualify some people for petty reasons. Sorry not sorry, this is his mansion and he’s not about to share his kitchen with someone who thinks Kylo Ren is cooler than Poe Dameron, okay?

-He has some interviews, but nobody seems to click. A lot of people seem to want to make his house some kind of party-mansion. And not the fun kind of movie-marathon, D&D session, LAN Party kind of parties. One girl keeps asking him when the ‘real owner’ of the house is going to be back. 

-He’s thinking about giving up and moving back home and finding a small apartment near Nana’s house when a girl shows up in his living room.

-She does not have an interview scheduled. Hardison knows this for two reasons: one, he thinks he’d remember background checking someone as pretty as her. Two: it’s three in the morning.

-“So I heard you’re looking for roommates,” she says. A roomba nudges against her foot, and she reaches down to pat it before it turns away. “I like your pet robots.”

-It’s probably the fact that he’s been up for like 48 hours by now, but he’s like: thanks, want a tour of the house?

-Parker moves in that weekend. He helps her move in, and does not ask why she has an entire box of the exact same creepy doll whose head turns around to show an even more creepy face. He just kindly requests she keep those in her rooms, not the shared ones.

-Parker is a great roommate. Her schedule is all over the place as well, but she’s tidy, she’s funny, and she’ll hang out and watch Doctor Who with him. She also names all his roombas. He pretends not to see her dropping some fortune cookie crumbs on purpose to feed Carl the kitchen roomba when he goes by.

-Their next roommate is Eliot. He’s a veteran who’s learning how to cook at some kind of culinary school. He gets a little flustered when Hardison shows him his rooms, plural, saying he must have read the ad wrong, and is almost out the door before Hardison can convince him that yes, the price in the ad is correct, no this is not a cult, he just bought a house that was much too big and he has Regrets okay, help a brother out.

-So Eliot moves in as well. He gets a little judgy when he finds out 95% of the kitchen cupboards are empty, and the rest is filled with cereal and junkfood. He brings in more boxes of kitchenware than clothes, and Parker is delighted at poking each and every thing he unpacks.

-Eliot’s schedule is kind of the opposite of Hardison’s. He is some kind of weird morning person. They mostly run into each other when Hardison is going to bed and Eliot comes back from his morning run. He’s mostly at school or working kitchen shifts to gain more experience during the times Hardison is awake, so they mostly communicate via text.

-Parker’s the one that figures out Eliot is all bark and no bite. Or actually, all growl and no bite. Turns out, he just really hates the little buttons on his smartphone, so his texts are very short and curt. Hardison starts leaving notes on the kitchen fridge instead and that works much better. Note-Eliot is way nicer than text-Eliot.

-The great thing about Eliot is that his homework is basically… fuck around in the kitchen and make delicious things. Which he then ‘makes’ them taste. So yeah maybe Hardison kind of… switches his schedule so he’s around more and awake for Eliot Cooking Time. 

-So basically he gets roommates, and free food and it’s all great. Except for that time he accidentally ate Eliot’s sandwich. Well, he didn’t leave a note saying NOT to! It ends up with him being dragged out of bed and interrogated (Parker shining a flashlight at him and being generally Chaotic Unhelpful) until he confesses.

-The only reason Eliot doesn’t kill him probably is because he babbles about how delicious it was. Or because he’s tired of Parker shouting unrelated cop-phrases at Hardison over his shoulder.

-They come up with a system where Eliot leaves very threatening notes on the stuff he does not want them to eat. It mostly works. Besides, Parker has totally found Eliot’s weak spots (puppy eyes) and can basically make him cook them whatever.

-It’s pretty great until it starts to heat up. And both Parker and Eliot start making use of the big outdoor pool. Which is great, that’s what it’s there for. But they then wander around looking sexy and damp and near naked and Hardison is starting to get Very Inappropriate Thoughts, okay?

-Okay so maybe he also had very inappropriate thoughts before, even when Eliot was wearing like 13 layers of clothing and Parker was wearing cozy sweaters and it’s still not fair for them to wander around looking so hot.

-But he’s not about to ruin a good thing with his crushes. Besides, he’s technically their landlord, that would be weird and creepy.

-So he just… quietly pines a little. It’s cool. He still gets to hang out in the kitchen with Parker and Eliot, and force them to watch movies they have never seen that they really should (neither of them talk to him for a week because of the whole Lilo and Stitch thing).

-And maybe he notices them huddled together whispering sometimes. That’s cool. That’s fine. They can date each other if they want. (Don’t think about Eliot and Parker together, don’t, it’s too hot and you won’t be able to look them in the eye ever again, dammit Hardison).

-Until one day he wanders down into the shared living space to find the dining room table to be all decked out, a table cloth and candles and roses and everything. And Parker and Eliot look up all expectantly as he starts backpedaling that he didn’t mean to interrupt their date before Eliot growls and says ‘sit down, Hardison’. 

-The table has three place settings.

-Oh.

-It’s one hundred percent worth his foster siblings quoting a meme at him all weekend when he brings the two of them home to meet his Nana.

[pillage-and-lute]

The Courting Ways of Wolves

This is Geralt struggling heavily with emotions. He’s a little dumb but he’s got the spirit. Fluff. Geraskier, platonic Yennalt and Yennskier with a healthy side order of Geralt’s brothers and Good Mom! Yennefer, who deserves all the nice things.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue

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After the mountain, and finding Ciri, and tracking down Jaskier and Yennefer both, and dragging them up to Kaer Morhen, Geralt had looked forward to a nice, relaxing winter. His brothers and Vesemir would train Ciri, Yennefer, with whom he had come to an entirely platonic understanding, would recover from Sodden, and he had Jaskier back.

His apology had been poor, and he knew it, but Geralt had rescued him from the clutches of Nilfgaard and had bought him new lute strings and a notebook to boot. 

The strains of Her Sweet Kiss drifted through Kaer Morhen regularly, because his whole family, and yes, Ciri and Yennefer included, kept requesting that damn song. He hated it, Jaskier’s voice broke singing it and his scent was still sad, although less so than it had been the first few times Geralt had heard it.

Amazingly, the sadness had disappeared for the most part after one time, when Jaskier played the song after dinner, Yennefer had looked up from her book and said, cool as an icicle,

“For Melitele’s sake you melodramatic bastard, I’m not dating Geralt and I never want to again.” 

And now everyone seemed to want to hear it. Kaer Morhen’s training had not included music or poetry comprehension, so he was unsure why everyone kept looking at him oddly whenever the song was played. As far as he could tell, it was just another tragic love song. When Ciri started requesting Her Sweet Kiss after supper, and eyeing him while it played, he gave in. He cornered Eskel, the most book smart of the wolves beside Vesemir, who he suspected would be just a bit too acerbic, and asked him what was up. 

“He’s in love with you.”

“He’s not.”

“You’re an idiot,” Eskel said. “And a stubborn one to boot. He didn’t like Yennefer when you two were sleeping together, but they’re the friends now, right?”

“They’re not,” Geralt said, brow wrinkling. This was treading much too far into the realm of human emotions, which Geralt had never been good at, but they snarked at each other all the time still and bickered like children. Eskel rolled his eyes. 

“They are, its just sparring, but with words not swords. You see?” 

That made sense, words were Jaskier’s weapon, and Yennefer’s too, to some extent, and they did both seem to revel in creative insults.

“They’re friends,” Eskel said. “Now that Jaskier isn’t jealous anymore. Do you see where I’m going with this?” He could apparently tell from Geralt’s expression that, no, he did not know where Eskel was going with this. 

“Her Sweet Kiss is about Yennefer, who Jaskier thinks you love, and it’s about you, who Jaskier loves, and it’s about him, when he says ‘I’ as in “I am weak, my love’. My love is you, do you understand?”

It was dawning slowly in Geralt’s mind that he had definitely missed this, rather spectacularly, because now it was very, very obvious. He was glad he hadn’t gone to Vesemir, who would probably have given him a cuff ‘round the ear for being stupid, and it would have been deserved. 

Eskel, always so much better at reading emotions said, “Ah, you’ve got it, good. Now, what are you going to do about it.”

“I don’t know.” 

Eskel rolled his eyes so hard that Geralt hoped he detached a retina. “Of course you don’t.” His voice softened. Eskel had always been the one Geralt turned to for emotions. He knew Geralt didn’t get them, but wanted to understand and tried so hard that it hurt. Apart from a fair amount of good-natured ribbing, he always helped Geralt with the trickier bits of the human (or mutant) heart.

“Let’s start small, do you love the bard?”

That wasn’t small. That was a very, very big question, but Eskel had settled back in his chair and looked prepared to wait for Geralt to figure out the answer.

Did he love the bard? Geralt didn’t have anything to compare it to except Eskel and Lambert, and it certainly wasn’t like that. Except sometimes it was, like Eskel, Jaskier helped Geralt with reading when his head flipped the letters all around. Like Lambert, Jaskier fought anyone who insulted Geralt. But those were the actions of someone who loved Geralt, that was how Geralt could know (or could have known, if he’d been paying better attention) that Jaskier loved him. But how to know if Geralt loved Jaskier, not as a friend, but like a ballad, like the ‘my love’ in the song. But Geralt did love Jaskier like a ballad, because the songs always compared some lady to a bunch of other things. Geralt did that. He saw bright silks in a market and thought of Jaskier, if there were buttercups on the side of the road he thought of Jaskier, he heard a lute and thought of Jaskier, washed his hair and thought of Jaskier. Everything in his life made him think of Jaskier. 

And it wasn’t like seeing a goat headbut a farmer and thinking of Eskel and his goat from hell. It was also not the same as using a bomb and thinking of Lambert. Those were everyday things, as commonplace as thinking of Vesemir’s training. 

“I love him.”

“Yes,” Eskel said, “You really, really do. Now you just have to court him.” He sat back as if satisfied with a job well done. 

“Right, and how do I do that?” 

Eskel looked stumped. “I don’t know,” he said. Courting wasn’t part of the Kaer Morhen curriculum. 

“Do we ask Lambert?” Geralt asked, feeling a little panicky because now that he realized he loved the bard he wasn’t about to not court him.

“Of course not, he’s the least romantic bastard in existence,” Eskel said, rubbing a thumb over the scarred part of his lip.

“Not true, he reads romance novels,” Geralt said, proud to introduce this new and frankly hilarious bit of information.

“No.” Eskel’s eyes were wide.

“I found it in his pack last week, when I was looking for a sharpening stone, it had a picture of a lady in a torn dress and a shirtless man almost kissing, and the title said Tortured Hearts.”

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“I’m not,” Geralt said huffily, “I read a bit of a page too and it mentioned a lot of throbbing.”

Eskel cackled and, over come with mirth, fell from his chair. That set off Geralt and they both howled with laughter, wiping a few stray tears from their eyes when they heard the door creak open. 

It was Lambert.

That set Eskel off again, which made Geralt laugh too, and Lambert just stared at them. 

“Did you two get into the vodka again?”

“No,” Eskel said, righting himself in his chair, “We were just discussing your reading habits.”

Lambert turned pale, then pink, then pursed his lips and turned up his nose haughtily. “Shows what you two know about literature. It’s a fine way to pass the time.” His cheeks were still a bit pink.

“All jokes aside,” Geralt said, when he’d stopped snorting, “I need to know how to court the bard.”

“Ah, finally pulled your head from your arse then?”

“It was me that did the pulling,” Eskel said. Lambert sprawled onto the couch next to Geralt. 

“Of course you did,” he said. “What you gotta do,” he paused. “No that’ll never work.” Geralt scowled at him.

“No really,” Lambert said, “It’d never work.”

“Try me.”

“Lambert, c’mon, we’re really stumped,” said Eskel.

“Well...”

“Yes?” said Geralt, leaning towards him a little. 

“In the books the man always writes her a poem, to proclaim his love, you know? Or failing that he writes her a letter, all curly writing, maybe some pressed flowers.”

“Oh,” said Geralt.

“Oh,” said Eskel. “Yeah you’re right that’s really not gonna work.”

“Jaskier’s all courtly,” Geralt said. “So I should do it, you know, courtly.”

“Ciri’s royalty,” Lambert said. “She might know, and Yennefer spends a bunch of time with nobles. They could help.”

“You said his family’s kind of old fashioned,” said Eskel. “Vesemir’s really old too, so he can help.

And that was how everyone in Kaer Morhen, except Jaskier, who had been distracted by Vesemir showing him a room with a nice echo, met in the library to begin plan Court the Bard. Eskel was scribbling ideas onto a sheet of parchment. 

“You should kiss his hand,” Ciri said. “And say please and thank you.” She thought of her grandparents. “And tell him how beautiful he looks when he’s covered in blood.”

“Kill things for him,” Lambert chipped in. “Show’s him how big and strong you are, makes him feel safe.” A few curious eyes turned to him. He shifted uncomfortably. “One of the books was about a hunter and and a dairy maid. He killed a bear for her.”

“Always ask before you hold his hand or kiss him,” Vesemir said, seemingly unfazed by Lamberts reading habits. No reason he should be, Geralt thought, we all know he has a stack of romance novels by his bed. “Take it slow, Geralt, be patient, and put in the work, he was patient for twenty years, repay it now.”

Yennefer spoke up. “You don’t have to stop being sarcastic with him, he likes it, but compliment him too. Tell him how much you like his music. He likes music, so you like music because it makes him happy, understood?”

Geralt nodded.

“Good,” she said. “And dance with him. He’d like that. Also get him flowers.”

“Not just flowers, get him stuff,” Eskel said.

“I bought him lute strings and a notebook,” Geralt said.

Ciri wrinkled her nose. “Yeah but those were apology gifts, these are courting gifts.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Not much,” Yennefer said, “Lute strings and notebooks are good because they’re useful and they show that you know what he needs, but courting gifts should also be more...” she waved a hand vaguely, purple sparks twirling about her fingers.

“Romantic,” Eskel said.

“Pretty,” Ciri said firmly.

“They should be able to show you can provide for him,” Vesemir cut in.

At the end the list was short and confusing, but at least they had a plan. In the spring Ciri would go learn about magic with Yennefer, and Geralt’s heart swelled at the way they both glowed with excitement at the prospect. Geralt would then be back on the path alone with Jaskier and he could court him. 

The list said, in Eskel’s simple, neat hand, Number One, kiss his hand. Number Two, use manners. Number Three, compliment him (his music, his features, how he looks after a battle?) Number Four, kill things and bring them to him. Number Five, bring him gifts that aren’t dead things. There was an asterisk by number five and it said, gifts should be useful, romantic, pretty, and provide for him.

It wasn’t much, but it was a plan. 

That night at dinner Jaskier wondered why everyone kept looking at him and Geralt. He figured he had stew on his face, there was some in Geralt’s hair. Geralt wondered why Jaskier kept swiping his face with a napkin and why Ciri kept pointedly running fingers through her hair. 

He couldn’t figure out all of human emotions, but he was going to defeat courting, once and for all.

[akaashisupremacy]

Curiosity

Summary: Hajime Iwaizumi runs into an old friend yet again. Second chances don't come often so will he able to make a move before their time is up?

Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03

Genre : romance, friends to lovers 

The day had gone by quicker than Hajime Iwaizumi thought it would. It was now or never.

It all began last week, when he ran into Hiromi Miura, a friend from college, in a small Vietnamese restaurant in Ginza a month after he moved to Tokyo. As he lined up for a seat, he noticed the figure in front of him was familiar. He tapped her shoulder and waved. Hiromi was so surprised that it took her a moment to realize it was her old classmate.

“Iwa??” she said in disbelief.

They got a seat together to catch up. Normally, Hiromi would be nervous about have lunch with one other man, but she had been on so many failed dates lately that at least she knew lunch with Iwa would not end in disappointment.

“You’re eating here? This place must be legit huh?” he said, remembering that she worked for a food publication. She chuckled.

“Definitely has my seal of approval.”

The restaurant was small and Iwa was rather tall. He could feel his knees touching hers from time to time. She crossed her feet behind her chair so they didn’t have to apologize mid-conversation when they bumped into each other.

“I’ve been meaning to call you by the way. Do you know any good markets around where I live?” he pulled out his phone to show her the area where he was staying, “I’m not too familiar with the area yet, so you’ll have to tell me where is it on the map.”

Iwa lived almost at fringe of the city. His home was located not too far away by bike to one of Hiromi’s favorite wet markets. She took his phone a little more enthusiastically than he expected her to and pinned a location.

Hiromi loved showing people around her favorite food spots. If being a food guide was more lucrative, she would ditch her dayjob altogether.

“Here! There’s a wet market where I’m friendly with the stall owners right here.” she pointed, “It’s about a 15 minute bike ride away from your place. I can help you get good deals. Not too many tourists too.”

And that was how Iwa found himself inside a wet market with Hiromi, on an early Monday morning. On most mornings, Iwa liked to jog and not do chores, but Hiromi had been so enthusiastic about the market that he let himself get sucked in. He tried not to yawn as she waved at every other stall.

“Another market day for work? Did the production team ask for your help again?” tutted an old woman at a vegetable stand.

Did he really look that dressed down?

“No, I’m bringing a friend around, hopefully a soon to be regular. Yamagata-san, this is Iwaizumi. He just moved here.” she chuckled, gesturing at him. Iwa politely bowed and greeted her.

As Iwa picked out some vegetables, Hiromi continued to chat with the old woman, guiding him every now and then to a vegetable that looked fresher than what he had picked out.

“I thought he was a production boy., You know one of those boys that drives your company van and carries your stuff.” Yamagata-san commented good naturally, “Too handsome for a production boy.”

When Iwa was about to pay up, Hiromi disappeared over to the next stall. He sighed and made his way to the counter at the back. Behind the desk, he saw a simply framed black and white photo of Yamagata-san with a candid smile, reaching out to a customer. The background seemed to blur and the old woman was the star. Next to that was a smaller photo of Yamagata-san and…Hiromi.

Was Hiromi some sort of MVP for this stall or something?

“Miura-chan took that photo of me,” said Yamagata-san, taking notice of Iwa, “I told her that I didn’t need such a big photo of myself so I insisted on having one with her.”

“What was the photo for?” he asked, peering again at the two photos.

“She ran an article on the oldest stalls of the market saying we were the heart of the community or something like that. When the story came out, she even gave us a glossy magazine that had my picture on it. She made us sound big and important. She was really grateful that we let her talk about us so she gave us a framed photo of ourselves to remember her milestone by. It was her big solo article I think.”

After hopping from one store to another, sometimes to say hi and others to buy produce from, they settled in for early lunch at yakitori or grill restaurant. The sun was high in the sky. While waiting to be seated, Hiromi bought cool green tea for the both of them.

“This is so good! Damn!” he sighed in pleasure. The drink relieved the sweat gathering at his back. Hiromi grinned in satisfaction.

“Iwa can I ask you something?” she tilted her head towards him.

“Shoot.” Suddenly he felt unnerved and tense. What could this be about? He bit down on the tip of the straw.

Her eyes were with amusement, “Did you not notice that the fruit vendor was making eyes at you?? She’s totally into you and I tried to wingman for, but you just shrugged and paid up.”

“Wait, for real?” he asked, taken aback by his lack of self-awareness.

Hiromi nodded her head vigorously, “That was cold!’

He slapped his hands on his forehead, “Well, I wasn’t really interested in her anyways.” he sighed, his eyes flicking towards her before looking away.

Hiromi recalled a time in college, when a circle of their friends were having lunch together. One of the girls that had a crush on Iwa tried to make a pass at him.

“I would date you if I could, Hajime-kun,” she blushed. Everybody’s eyes turned to Iwaizumi who continued eating and only stopped because someone had nudged him.

“Thanks, I’m flattered,” he nodded. It had taken him weeks to realize that she was trying to confess to him.

“Do you remember that time in colle-“ she began but was interrupted. He was cringing as he remembered the same memory.

“Don’t bring up that lunch incident, Hiromi. I know you’re going to. Just NO.”  he groaned, “I get it! I’m dense.”

Hiromi was trying to restrain her laughter. He could hear her stifle her giggle beside him. She tried not to look at him. He straightened up beside her and nudged her knee with his.

“I wasn’t interested in her anyways.” he said, thoughtfully looking at her.

“Clearly not,” she snorted, browsing through the menu, “You should see what you want to eat before they seat us.”

He placed his hand a little bit behind her and peered over her shoulder. He could feel her arm pressed against his chest. They were seated so closely his nose almost touched the side of her head. She remained oblivious to him.

After they were seated, Iwaizumi finally brought up what he had been noticing.

“How does everyone here have a photo by and with you?” he asked, “Are the photos really required by your work?”

Hiromi looked a little embarrassed. She cleared her throat and sighed, “People like to take. They take stories and never give the people they take from. They take their food and their ideas, which is really not fair.

“It took me a while to earn the trust of the community here but once I gave them a copy of their story, it made them realize I was sincere about wanting to give back to them. The black and white framed photos, that was on me. We had some budget left so I got them their own photos because they’re important even if their job is not glamorous.”

“You’re really passionate about your job huh?” he said. The food had just arrived and they began to rearrange their bowls and plates on the table.

“It’s not my job I’m passionate about, it’s people and their stories. I’m just lucky enough to be paid enough to do this.” she smiled.

“Don’t you feel the same way about your job?” she asked, “You like volleyball so much you turned it into a profession.”

“I do, but I’ve just started in my new job. Passion takes time if not at least a little bit more experience. Maybe by next year, I can feel the same way about my work.”

———————————————————————————

“Thanks for bringing me here.” he said as he loaded up his bike with his morning purchases.

“Thanks for lunch,” she said. Iwaizumi had paid while she was at the restroom to thank her for introducing him to her community market.

Urgency prodded at his back. It was now or never. As she handed him some of his packaged vegetables, he hastily turned to her.

“Can I see you again next week?” he said it so quickly, he wasn’t sure she fully understood him.

“Oh, do you want to try a different market?” she asked, carefully taking out the strawberries from her bag and transferring it to his bag.

“No, no this market looks great —“

“I know right! It’s not the best or most comprehensive market, but it’s a good market if you’re looking to build a community with.” she beamed with pride.

Iwa straightened his back and cleared his throat, “No, like a date.”

She paused and stood to meet his eye. “Oh…I guess this is why you weren’t interested in the vendor huh. I really thought she would be your type! She even plays volleyball.” She looked away while slowly recalling signs from earlier today: the knee nudge, the lunch, his lack of interest in other women in the market.

Iwa could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He forgot how nerve-wracking it was to ask someone out. Sweat was pooling around his temples just standing there.

“Ahh not really, I am actually interested…in you. I thought you might like me too, that’s why you agreed to go out with me today…y’know to test the waters…” he stuttered, “but..ah…turns out you just really like markets. I realized that I should have been more forward.”

Hiromi was simultaneously flattered, mortified and a little confused. She kept quiet. In the back of her mind, she entertained the thought that maybe this was an unofficial date, but she had convinced herself that Iwa was invested in buying cheaper fresher produce.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to. You look uncomfortable,” he said, waving his hands side to side, breaking her out of her reverie, “We can pretend like this never happened.”

She hesitantly replied, “Well, I’m on the weekend and my hours are flexible on Thursday because it’s a reading day for me…” She was praying in her heart that she got her schedule right.

Her reply caught Iwa off guard. Nevertheless, he jumped to the chance to spend a day next week with her.

“That’s great! I’m away next weekend, but Thursday sounds great.” he smiled, looking hopeful, “Let’s meet then?”

“I know it’s kinda early, but I think I have to put it out there that my schedule’s really erratic some days. That’s kind of put some people off.” he shrugged. His schedule was one of his occupational hazards.

“We’re out on a Monday, I think I’m aware.“ she nodded. Although outwardly calm, she was ready to faint. She couldn’t wait to tell Itsumi that she had a date with a seemingly decent guy?

“Oh and Iwa?” her face schooled itself into a more serious expression as he gave her his full attention, “It’s non-negotiable for me. If you want to insist on being able to date other people, I’ll have to cancel next week.”

“I had a small spat with this guy I was dating and I…walked in on second date while he was making out with someone.” she gritted her teeth, heaving a sigh.

“Ok, I won’t see anybody else while we’re seeing each other. Deal?” he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m not very good at dating. I haven’t been in a good relationships in awhile. I’m gonna need your patience.” she said softly, turning to him, her eyes wary.

“I’m kind of aware.” he nodded, “I’ll make the most of the time you can give me.”

When she left she felt dumbfounded. She had recently sworn off dating and now she was on another date?

“Itsumi, you’ll never guess what just happened!” she called up her coworker.

----------------------------------------------------------

This is part 2 of a series on Iwa living in Tokyo after he moves back from California. If you’d like to keep up with the next chapters (which will include questions to help them fall in love *hint hint*), comment or message!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Series taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan

[mandoowhorian]

My Mandalorian/Din Djarin Headcanons (S2 Spoilers!)

I haven’t really seen any that weren’t about relationships (reader) or nsfw stuff so here are some of mine :)

Din doesn’t actually have abs. Yeah abs are hot and whatever but since he doesn’t necessarily work that part of his body out, no abs. INSTEAD HE HAS A GORGEOUS LIL STUMMY

This man is vitamin D deficient (hehe)!!! Due to wearing armor constantly, the sun never really hits his skin meaning it can affect his mood quite often, and not only does fighting and hunting cause him physical pain, this man’s bones and joints are week! Drink some milk mando!!!

Absolute tree trunks for thighs that could crush the head of any bounty he came across (and me too)

Din is actually severely near (idk the terms but work with me) sighted but since the helmet adjusts his vision for him it doesn’t bother him much. But as soon as he takes it off he’s shuffling around the crest trying to find stuff

STRONK ass arms

Actually goes by he/they pronouns (before someone says I’m making it gay in mando’a there is so gender so being addressed with they pronouns feels normal to him)

Suppressed the urge to say “Re'turcye mhi Ad'ika” (goodbye little one) to Grogu when Luke took him away because 1. He was hella choked up 2. It’s something he felt was too personal to say in front of everyone

One of Din’s biggest fears is that should the kid be able to stay and live with him, is that Grogu will outlive him and be left with no one to take care of him

He cuts himself shaving... like a lot. No one really taught him how so every time it gets too long he stand in the mirror frustrated with the blade and does his best to carve out a lil moustache without carving too much of his face along with it

He only started growing a moustache cause he saw another bounty Hunter sport one and thought it looked cool

He is literally a space Mormon. That man has never seen tiddies before, and if he had by accident, he’d spin around so fast your head would spin

This one is obviously well known but this mf is so damn trusting of other people and never learns his lesson. HOWEVER, it stems for giving people the benefit of the doubt and a second chance. He was saved by a group that could’ve left him to die like his parents and his people, but instead was given the opportunity to live by the mandalorians believing in him. Although it’s not a mando code, it’s part of Din’s values.

Likes showing off how well he can maneuver his jet pack but would never say it

Has loads of scars and permanent bruises from his work and does his best to take care of his wounds but at this point he’s given up and cauterizes what he can then doesn’t care about the rest

Appreciates a good cup of soup. Not broth, but a good fucking soup. I know my man fucks with a good soup. Stew too. He’s sexy like that.

Still thinks about Omera (the hot milf from the planet Sorgan from episode 4) and can you blame him?

When he’s drifting through hyperspace and Grogu falls asleep in the pod, Din will lift his helmet just above his chin so the baby can hear his unmodulated voice and sings him softer versions of songs he heard as a child in Mando’a. He does it to help remember what words of the ancient language he was taught. He even made up a short “remix” if you will of one song and added the words “clan of two” in it

This man’s lips are CHAPPED as hell. Sahara desert kind of dry.

He does use lotion when he remembers to.

He showers whenever he can because he doesn’t know how long he’ll be out on a mission. He likes to make the water as hot as he can to ease his back and uses bar soap that he bought from a market on Naboo. (Scent is up to interpretation but I like to think it’s something a bit musky/pine related

He tolerates taking care of himself but only really does it because it’d be embarrassing to be a feared bounty hunter and then smell like shit

Likes walking around the razor crest in his socks when he can

Played peekaboo and tag with Grogu

All I can think of tonight, but if you use any of these in FICS, FANART, WHIPS, adding onto any, please tag me!! I wanna see/read them! I might make one about his views on relationships but we will see if people like this first. Also comment or send ur own if you want! My goal is to eventually make just one huge mando headcanon post

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 300 Spoiler Thoughts: Crumbling Hero Society and Keeping Up with The Todoroki (Again)

OK, I got a good majority of my thoughts together for this chapter, so it’s time to start writing about it again:

Starting off, I haven’t seen anything about a special cover page for the big 300 yet and I doubt we’re getting a color page this time around.  Most likely we’ll see it when it officially drops.  I do hope it’s something light-hearted to lift our spirits up, but given where we’re at in the plot, it might be filled with some heavy symbolism which I’m also down for.

Edit: The full leaks are out and I saw nothing special about a cover/color page.  It’s just the usual chapter structure with the only exception being the title’s at the end like Katsuki Bakugo: Rising was.  I’m hoping for a sketch on Horikoshi’s Twitter at least since 300 chapters is worth celebrating, but there’s nothing super special with the chapter itself 😢

Villains are out and about after the Prison Breaks...  Of course they’re causing chaos wherever they go.  The citizens are actually fighting back using their own support items probably from Denarat since I believe the usual support items we’ve seen, like on heroes, have to be official via signed papers and such; they can’t just be bought off the market.

But, because of their lack of training, the citizens are causing more collateral damage than usual.  They’d rather depend on themselves than Pro Heroes anymore.  In a way, I get it (the authorities can’t always be relied on, unfortunately), but if you don’t have the proper training to deal with a situation, it can cause more harm than good.

I’m glad Wash is showing his worth as a hero!  He’s still protecting the citizens and helping them capture the villains.  It just sucks that he and a lot of other legit heroes are getting scolded for doing their job now.  This follows up with that one panel of the crowd of civilians from the last chapter where you saw some people happy to see Best Jeanist and others just angry or disappointed.  Hero society is crumbling at the seams and those cracks are only getting bigger.

Of course the number of Pro Heroes have decreased.  We all saw this coming.  What I didn’t see coming was the #9 Hero: Yoroimusha (the old samurai Hero) announcing his retirement.  Not because of his age, but because he only wanted to be appreciated.  It’s ok to want to be appreciated, but to use that as your drive to be a Pro Hero is less than heroic.  And we know that he’s not the only Pro Hero who chose to be a hero for these reasons (Stain was created to drive this very point home).  

I’ll get back to Stain in the next bullet point, but there’s one panel that shows that All Might statue at Kamino completely vandalized with a board sign around it saying “I AM NOT HERE”.  That... oof...  Look, All Might has his flaws as everyone else does, but the man has done so damn much for the people that he does not deserve this.  It’s not his fault he had to retire, he did everything he could during his run.  It would be a tough battle even if he was involved in the war.  There’s a reason why All Might was so well-loved even after he retired, so to see him being slandered like this just hurts... 

And Stain is back.  He escaped Tartarus like everyone else.  I’m curious to see where Horikoshi will take this guy.  My guess is that he’ll probably go back to killing non-heroic “heroes”, but maybe he’ll do something else after being stuck in prison for several months.  His vision of Hero Society is even more spread out than before at least.  

And now the Torodokis.  Hoo boy.  Endeavor’s awake and alive.  I’m personally glad because more character growth from him (I know some think otherwise and I respect that).  Some people still support him, but most everyone else has turned their back on him.  Endeavor reflects on Toya when he was a child pulling out his white hair to get his attention.  In the end, Endeavor focused on Shoto more.  I like that Horikoshi doesn’t let us forget that Endeavor was a piece of shit who abused his family.  Endeavor can atone and try for redemption all he wants, but that history of abuse will never go away.  It will always come back to bite him.  You reap what you sow, Endeavor.    

And, although Enji is alive, Endeavor has “died”.  He can’t fight Toya.  I’m guessing that means Endeavor is out as a Hero.  This was probably going to happen regardless.  Endeavor had too much against him to let him continue.  Now all Enji can do is try to fix what he can, though I doubt it will be much.  

Real quick, but there’s a funny page where Shoto walks in to see Enji crying (with a funny bloated face; Horikoshi why 😭), opens the door, and then immediately slams it shut!  Enji yells out the classic “SHOTOOOOO!!!!!” 🤣  Idk if it’s pettiness or awkwardness on Shoto’s part, but it’s good to see some humor still being put into this depressing Hospital Arc.  

Now, all the Todoroki are here together.  Fuyumi feels sympathy for her father (bless her ❤️), but everyone else is straight up done.  Natsuo is frustrated, Shoto’s probably conflicted given that he hardly looks his father in the eyes, and Rei is also done with Enji’s shit.  She’s basically telling him that a lot of people have it worse than him (probably because a lot of people died, of course), and that Enji needs to get his shit together right now.

Also, REI TODOROKI IS HERE!!! 💙 OUR QUEEN 👑  With the flower Enji gave her while in the mental ward no less (gotta love that symbolism).  Everyone, including myself, thought that seeing Dabi would through Rei off and send her back to a declining mental state.  I’m glad that it pretty much had the reverse effect.  It actually made her stronger than ever!  She’s finally ready to confront Enji and talk about her family, specifically about Toya.  My only disappointment is that we didn’t get to see Shoto’s reaction to seeing his mom out of the mental hospital for the first time in over a decade.  I want to see it, Horikoshi!  Give me some bittersweet feels 😭💙  

And that’s it for this chapter!  Heavy stuff in this episode’s “Keeping Up with The Todoroki” (love how that’s become a running gag in the fandom now).  I’m really happy to see Rei’s back, but Dabi’s damage on Hero Society definitely left it’s mark.  No Deku, Bakugo, Tamaki, or Kamanari this chapter so we don’t know what’s going on with them.  I doubt we’re going to see them next chapter either if Horkioshi chooses to stick with the Todoroki drama again for a while, which I’m cool with.  I would like to see Bakugo try talking to Deku though.  I need some more good 🥦💥 in my life.

[wireddless]

Codeine Scene (Five H. x Reader) [2]

Codeine Scene Masterlist

Authors Note: Here this is! The rest of the story is in the works and hopefully will be finished in the next few weeks. I only expect this to be about 12-20 chapters long, depending on how much my friend and I edit this. This chapter mentions what it’s like to experience ADHD, as it’s not common within the writing community. I myself have struggled all my life with it, and only wish for it to be more represented in the writing community 💕

Summary: After getting settled into the Academy, Five and the Reader make a quick journey for some groceries. Things don’t go according to plan.

Warnings: Drug use (Marijuana), descriptions of mental disorder (ADHD), Mild gore (not terrible, you’ll know when you get there.)

Word Count: 2432

(Y/n)’s head rested on Klaus’s meditation floor pillow, the rest of her body on a pile of miscellaneous blankets from the linen closet. The high was really setting in, she was now feeling it in her body. Not half an hour after getting settled into the academy, Klaus offered to smoke (Y/n) out. And by god he did. 

(Y/n) never had stuff this good before, and certainly not out of a rose petal joint. She could expect something as extra as a rose petal joint from Klaus, but she didn’t. It was really fucking pretty though, she’d admit. Klaus was sitting against the reading pillow at the foot of his bed, laughing with (Y/n) about something said in The Twilight Zone that sounded outrageous when out of context. 

Mixed with the smoke of lavender incense, the remaining smoke from the weed lingered, allowing them to get higher without needing to smoke more. (Y/n) had taken an interest in how spiritual Klaus was. She herself was agnostic, but found Klaus’s overall method very tantalizing. 

A record played in the background, on a suitcase turntable Klaus bought from a department store like two years ago. The Moody Blues, if (Y/n) recalled correctly. The song was slow, and physically felt good. Like laying down, but in the air. Of course she was also extremely high. 

The song was reaching one of its many peaks, and (Y/n) swore she could feel the electric guitar supporting the vocals. Klaus filled his pipe with another bowl of weed and took a long, deep hit, before passing it to (Y/n).

“Mine already?” She gasped. The mere sight of the pipe being handed to her sent a euphoric feeling down her body. She sat up and took the pipe and grabbed a lighter from a bowl of them to her right. Inhaling, she held the flame over the bowl. The smoke felt terrible, but she held it in as long as she could. (Y/n) let out a long exhale, clouding up the room even more. She could feel someone at the door. 

“The house reeks of weed, just to let you know.” Five spoke, leaning on the doorframe. His harsh words earned a chuckle from Klaus. 

“It always does, stop trying to make (Y/n) feel bad.” Klaus took the bowl back from (Y/n) and took another hit. She ignored Five, and let the music in the background hold her attention. The song was called Nights in White Satin. She’s heard it before, but never appreciated it. 

“Klaus where do you get your vinyls? I haven’t found a Moody Blues album anywhere I’ve looked.”

“Oh, I just snag them from Luther’s room.” He started. “After he and Allison finally figured their shit out and fucked, they moved in together just outside The City. They didn’t have enough room for his entire collection, so he took a box of them and left the rest. It’s really convenient if you ask me.” 

“Seems like it.” (Y/n) hummed. She looked over at Five again and stared for a second. “You’ve time traveled right?” 

Five tilted his head like a confused dog. “Yeah, why?” 

(Y/n) spoke again, “Have you seen, firsthand, how large a dinosaur's cock is?”  Before Five could even begin to think of a reply, Klaus sat up and chimed in.  

“You know, that’s a really interesting question.” He complimented (Y/n)’s thought process. “Five, how large is a dinosaur’s dick?” 

“I have never seen a dinosaur‘s Penis!” Five spoke, flustered. 

(Y/n) hummed in response, amused. “Why do you think there aren’t like, fossils of dinosaur dicks? Like did scientists think it was inappropriate?” 

“Because it’s made of muscle and tissue, those don’t fossilize, bone does.” Five groaned. Klaus and (Y/n) snort, their bodies scrunching up in laughter. 

“Bone.” Klaus said in a pause between his giggles. Hearing the word makes both of them laugh even harder. 

“I live with children.” Five muttered and walked away. 

Klaus and (Y/n) continued to giggle like little children who stole their preschool teachers keys. 

The reek of weed slowly started to fade. Five definitely had a contact high, but he didn’t mind too much, as he was still beyond functional. In a quick blip, he found himself in the kitchen, looking to make himself a quick snack. Upon opening the cabinet, he found no bread.

“Damn it.” He released an angered sigh, holding back the urge to kick a hole in the cabinet. The air around him constricted, and in a blue flash, he was back in Klaus’s room. 

“Holy shit!” Klaus almost jumped out of his skin when Five blipped in front of him, and (Y/n) sat up quickly, not expecting him either. 

“We’re out of bread.” Five spoke immediately, not even waiting for the two in the room to adjust to his presence. “I’m headed to the store, do either of you want to come?”

“Oooh I can’t.“ Klaus frowned. “My stomach hurts. But (Y/n) can go!” He looked over at (Y/n). “You can go right?” She nodded, not minding Klaus speaking for her.  

“Yeah, it’s a little stuffy in here.” She lifted each hand up and down, keeping the heels of them on her leg. Five looked down at her and scoffed. 

“Well come on then.” He walked out of the room, not waiting for her to get up. (Y/n) scrambled up and followed after him. 

“See you in a bit, Klaus!” Her voice carried through the hallway as her feet hit each stair quickly. Five was a fast walker, she noticed, not taking any time to wait for her. Asshole. 

Five’s car was in the alleyway next to the house, hidden from the peering eye of those walking along the street. (Y/n) grabbed the passenger door handle, and as she was about to open it, Five spoke. 

“You might want to get in the back seat.”  His voice became muffled as he plopped into the driver’s seat. 

“What why-“ Before she could finish she caught sight of the tons of disposable coffee cups. “Ah.” She shut the door and got into the back instead. She awkwardly tapped her foot as Five put his car into gear and pulled out into the street. 

The drive to the market was quiet, except for the putter of the engine, and gentle taps of the rain landing on the roof. Five found a parking spot rather quickly, it being a cool weekend and all. 

“Just stay in the car, I’ll be right out.” Five grabbed his keys and slipped out of the car and walked through the parking lot to the market. With no music to focus on, (Y/n) tapped her foot quietly, trying to ignore the slight panic caused by the lack of stimulation. 

The rain only slightly calmed her, but it hardly did anything. Her hands came together and the snapping sound of her knuckles cracking filled the car momentarily, before falling silent. Her eyes darted around, looking at the soaked ground, then at the gray sky, then to the cars driving by on the freeway. 

(Y/n)’s ADHD had gone untreated for years. When her parents passed and she was placed in her aunt and uncle’s custody, they took her off all medications. She had become quite used to the inability to wear certain fabrics, the anxiety caused by lack of or overstimulation, always moving some part of her body, or the dirty looks she was given when she overspoke when trying to make friends. 

The sound of the door opening quickly shot her out of her thoughts. She was about to greet the person getting in, when she realized that it wasn’t Five. 

“Shit shit shit shit!” He spoke under his breath, clearly panicked. (Y/n) was completely still, except for her hand, slowly creeping to the big silver wrench next to her. She was losing time as he quickly attempted to pull the panel off of the area next to the ignition. 

Her fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the wrench, and she quickly pulled it towards her, trying to stay as quiet as possible. She inhaled as deeply and as quietly as she could, before speaking. 

“Hey asshole!” The man in the driver seat jumped, not expecting someone to be in the back seat. He turned and looked at her before reaching in his pocket to attempt to grab something. (Y/n) lunged forward, attempting to hit him with the wrench, missing him as he fell back against the door, his hands whipping out a gun of some sort. Fuck. 

She was lodged between the front and back seat, not able to move back in her panic. She was close to tears, but could hold them back. Her hands slowly raised, showing she wasn’t going to hit him. 

“Ok, n-now put the wrench down.” His gun was still pointed at her. She slowly lowered her hand with the wrench in it, earning his trust. But now was the time to think fast. Before she let go she aggressively grabbed the barrel of the gun and pushed it up, giving her an opening to swing the wrench at his face. 

A sickening crack and the loud scream of the man filled the car as she broke his nose. She wasn’t done though. She ripped the gun out of his hand, tossing it in the backseat before grabbing this man's head by the hair and slamming him into the steering wheel. A series of small honks from the car echoed in the nearly empty parking lot until she was done. Her hands were covered in the blood from his nose, a slight splatter on her shirt as well. 

“Oh my god.” He was unconscious. (Y/n)  managed to slip back into the backseat, no longer fearing for her life. She quickly stepped out and ran around the car to the driver's seat. “Oh my god.” She opened it and pulled the man's head back, resting it on the seats headrest. She had never really done anything like this before, so she was beyond skittish. Her heart and mind felt like they were going a million miles an hour, and she barely had a clue of what to do. “Oh my god what do I do?”

It took a moment before common sense truly hit her and she checked for breathing and pulse. Her first two fingers could pick up a heartbeat, a rather strong one as well. Her fingers moved to his Cupid’s bow, checking his breathing. She concluded that he was just knocked out, but she was still panicking. 

“Hey!” Five’s voice made her jump. She quickly peered over the car and saw Five walking towards her with a few bags. “I thought I told you to stay in the car.” 

“I know but something happened!” Five walked around the front and she stepped to the side, revealing the unconscious man below her. Fives eyes widened, surprised to say the least. 

“Now the question is; what happened?” Five looked at the man, and then her once again. 

“I-I was in the back of the car like you told me and this guy just got in and he tried to steal the car!” Her hand was shaking frantically. “He tried to-“ the word took a moment to process, her fingers showing that she was searching for the word. “Hotwire the car! He didn’t even see me and tried to rip the steering column cover off to get to the wires and everything!” (Y/n)’s voice shook. She was about to cry.

“Ok, ok, that’s a start. What did you do?” Five looked to her for more answers as he leaned down to check the man's vitals for himself.

“I grabbed the-the wrench and I tried to hit him with it but I missed and he pulled a gun out on me.” (Y/n)’s body slumped on the car, needing any support she could get as the adrenaline left her system.

“I don’t see a gun.” Five looked all over the man, not finding the weapon, before his gaze landed on it in the back seat. “Oh, go on.” He stood up and leaned on the vehicle as well. The grocery bags, now forgotten by his feet. 

“So I made him think I was putting the wrench down, and then I grabbed the gun and threw it in the back seat, and- and then I hit him in the nose with the wrench and it got his blood all over me,” She gestured to her messed up shirt. “And then I,” her voice broke, the weight of what just happened now settling on her. “I started hitting his head on the steering wheel, and- and I couldn’t stop.” She was full on panicking now. 

“Well you got the job done.” Five looked down at him again. “I think you broke his nose.” 

“Oh my god I did?” She started panicking more now. 

“Yeah, yeah but it’s fine, you didn’t kill him.” Five attempted to comfort her without pulling her into an embrace. He was awfully bad at it though. “Let’s just get him out of the car and go home.” 

“We can’t just leave him here!” (Y/n) glanced down at him. “That’s fucked up!” Five scoffed and replied. 

“Trying to steal a car is fucked up. He’ll be fine.” Five scooped his arms under the man and effortlessly pulled him out of the seat, dropping him on the ground next to the car, before grabbing the groceries and getting in himself. The groceries landed on the passenger seat with a plop before Five stuck his head out. “Get in the car.” 

“Fine.” (Y/n) took one last glimpse at the man she assaulted before getting in, slamming her door shut in unison with Five.

“You got blood on the steering wheel.” Five sighed and wiped it off with a tissue from the box he kept in the center console. As Five pulled the car back out onto the freeway, he spoke. “I didn’t know you had that in you, back there.” His Mazda came to the set speed, giving him the opportunity to glance at (Y/n) through his rearview. 

“I didn’t either.” (Y/n)’s voice was quiet, and shaky still. Brow furrowed, he spoke again. 

“Well, you did a good job.” He chuckled, knowing she’d be fine. “Klaus would be proud. Now let’s get you home so you can get cleaned up.”