#this review is all over the place I'd call it more of a ramble

[meherya]

Let's talk about The Brothers Sun :)

I think, my number one gripe with this show was that, I could see the potential... there were scenes where you could see the insane shit this show could have pulled off if it was written by literally ANYONE else

The first thing that really made me go 🤨 watching this show was the incessant references to #diasporaasiankidtingz.. I'd understand if it was here or there as some sort of comedy relief... But no it was literally every other scene if not every scene....

From a cop adjacent character eating buldak noodles at an active crime scene, to teaching a Taiwanese gangster the hidden asian mom language... it was just so... stupid? Is the only way I could describe it, it's like someone compiled a number of posts from Facebook's Subtle Asian Traits page and structured the story and dialogue around that? Thought it was kind of funny that they remembered "Asian" doesn't just mean East Asian when they threw in random brown girl from the morgue...

Actingwise, Justin Chien is by no means a bad actor, every scene where he speaks in mandarin his acting is a lot less wooden than when his dialogue is english and I genuinely believe it's because of the rigid way they wrote his lines in english... as for everyone else.... Sam Song Li was rlly putting his whole bussy into his americanized first gen immigrant kid schtick and like whatever...

I found the concept of this top Triad guy coming to LA to look after his mom and brother after an assassination attempt on their father to be intriguing... his mom was as cool as I expected (her own fight scene... ofc she should've been head bitch in charge!!!) but ofc his brother would be a whitewashed loser!! But you know, it could've worked!!! It could've been interesting if they didn't have Bruce emulating Marvel movie comedy all the fucking time... But if you think about it too hard you might go, why would the son/best fighter of this Triad leave the whole business behind to look after his mom/brother and not take back up with him?? Some math was simply not mathing... but we move on

There's just a lot of points that don't make sense plotwise? Like oh so now this random cop girl is actually childhood besties with Charles?... And the way they try to force some semblance of chemistry between the two with them hamfisting by them just going back and forth like "remember when-"... and their flirting was gag worthy bc they had her speaking huskily for no reason?? It was really lifeless sort of interactions and they were really trying for the star crossed lovers bit but it simply did not work sorry.... It was kind of fucked because the tension between Drowsy and Charles in like 1/4 of an episode was 10 times whatever the cop girl and Charles had going on.... Though I do appreciate it how the show does go "once a rat, always a rat" bc she really fucked that man just to get a bust on him like woah!!! Of all my grievances with that lacklustre romance I do appreciate them not being together and her being loner loser at the end.

But anyways... I think the show did decent job at showing how trying to live up to a parent's expectations can break you as a person and force you into a role you dgaf about, and how it's important to also put your needs first before you become a shell of a person... But also they could have done it without being corny as fuck...

I think the plot with this underdog group of anti-Triads would have been soo good, if it was integrated better? Also Grace randomly approaching Bruce like we all knew she was gonna be a traitor... And like!! She wasn't wrong!! Their group was wasn't wrong!!! Why should the Triads exist when all they do is profit off others misery??? Like we are supposed to cheer on the Triads why? Because that's who we follow largely, and because of Bruce's bitchass.... He pissed me off soo bad by the end it's not even funny...

Think the show could have had merit if Bruce decided to join Grace after seeing old bald dude get killed, and realizing how fucked his family is... Him snitching to a group of people who want to murder your family, claiming that was him trying to save his family from themselves.... And believing them when they say okay well we'll try not to kill them but no promises... How are you a pre-med when you're that stupid lol

I was gonna write paragraph of how I wanted to see this go and how they could have factored in Charles being ordered to kill Bruce (which was fucking insane by the way, my fave episode of the series) to be even more wild but like it's marketed as a comedy so whatever but man it was fucking corny as shit with random gaping plot holes that we really dont want to think too long and hard about .... I will say tho, kudos for not having white people in this as love interests or sidekicks so!!!! So 2/5

also curious what Taiwanese ppl think about that scene where Bruce just calls Charles Chinese... Ik Taiwan and China got some beef, idk the specifics of it but 👀

[loafiecat]

DISCLAIMER! 

These reviews are my informal thoughts and opinions purely and by no means are they meant to harm the creators in any way, shape, or form.  I love OFF and I love the OFF fandom, I wish nothing but the best for these creators and I respect them for their hard work. Thank you for your understanding. 

CLUELESS is one of many fangames made by Zachariecide. It is a very short game that serves as one of three sequels to another game called UNKNOWN. In it, you play as the Batter. After waking up on a monorail next to Zacharie, you are forced to solve a mystery involving a strange, horrific phenomena and many, many deaths if you are not careful. Now, one might ask why I decided to start in non-chronological order. Well, this is for a very simple reason: CLUELESS is, in fact, the first OFF fangame I've ever played. Many years ago, I was introduced to the OFF fangame community through playing this title, so it holds a special place in my heart and if it weren't for it, I wouldn't have met the wonderful friends I still talk to today.

That all being said, this game goes in....odd directions.

Due to how short the game is, it's difficult to review without spoilers so, uh- anyway I'll try not to spoil much.

Clueless throws you right in after a brief warning about gory narratives. You start off on the monorail and things immediately go downhill for the Batter. Have fun, champ, go out there and solve the mystery! Oh- your friend's dead? Oh uh- okay- hey wasn't that a different room before? Ohh....oh dear...

There are so many. Deaths. In this game. The starting area alone has at least two ways you can get a game over right off the bat. To be honest, half of the enjoyment is finding how many ways to get a game over there are. It makes me think of The Witch's House a little in that regard. Thankfully, the game lets you save any time, as well as gives you prompts to save at certain points. Speaking of saves, the game comes with save files already packed in. I am not sure why these were left in.

So throughout the game, when you examine certain things or talk to npcs, you get clues. They take spaces in your inventory and you can "examine" them to get a reexplanation of the clue in question. It's like the Batter is taking notes on a pen and notepad. I actually thought this was pretty cool! I'd imagine you'd use them to solve puzzles or as "keys" to get through obstacles. Sadly, none of the clues are applied in such a way. At least, I tried where I thought it would make sense to and nothing worked, so I assume it's just a system to remind the player of certain topics but with no further application. Oh well. Game play wise, there's very few combat encounters so most of the game is spent speaking to npcs and exploring the limited areas. I personally don't mind this as I don't really care for RPG maker combat.

It's hard to talk about the story without spoiling anything, but my opinion of it is that it didn't have much room to breathe. You aren't given much time to ponder what's happening before it's revealed to you and the answers to questions I do have about much of the game simply do not exist. Why is everything trying to kill me? What is the red mansion..place...thing? And why is there a smutty fanfic and why DOES THE BATTER WANT TO KEEP IT-

Overall, I feel rather neutral about it. I definitely enjoyed it more when I was much younger and played this for the first time though. I really feel that the clue mechanic was a missed opportunity.

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed my rambling! Until next time!

[fateinthestars]

Well at a lack of anything else that I have to post right now, have some more thoughts/review/rambling on some of the Star Crossed Myth extra content.

In this case let's go for Heavenly Pleasures: Wishes and Heavenly Pleasures: Punishments.

It gives me a chance to talk a bit more about all twelve and it's one of the few pieces of extra story that's available as DLC for the Switch version of the game.

Spoilers under cut.

First off I find it interesting how though the prologue is them wanting to prove they have hospitality skills to MC after she has helped out with a Wishes matter (Punishments butted in on the argument) that some of these seem clearly like MC is already dating them, others aren't, and some are sort of either way. I guess there could be a timeline where MC has a reverse harem pfft.

Um... where was I? Oh yes, the DLC

Heavenly Pleasures: Wishes

Leon: Bath Time Entertainment

Well this I guess is what I'd expect from him. Hospitality? Not really. A skill? Only in so much as he can do this to MC without his power. I don't particularly have anything to say about Leon's part in this.

It's just Leon, but with the baths instead of his room.

Teorus: Melt in your Mouth Sweetness

Well at least here you get the ultra-sweet but rather flirtatious Teo rather than the pouting over-possessive moron. A few of them picked food though and whilst Teo's isn't the worst hospitality wise, he is a bit over enthusiastic. And everything contains milk because of course it does.

Huedhaut: Payback is a Decadent Kiss

Now Hue's is hospitality. He might call himself a fuddy-duddy during this but he actually has thought about things and knows what he's doing. Mostly cos he's researched it first of course. That said he wasn't also going to go fully by the book, making sure it did have a very personal touch.

This is absolutely brimming with his usual sarcasm as well though.

Karno: Seduced by Japanese Charms

Karno trying to learn more about the Earth and apply it is always such a sweet ride and in this one he really is trying.

It does raise something though: They can snap their fingers to change clothes and yet in this Karno was struggling to put a Kimono on because he hadn't got used to how exactly you do that. Which seems to suggest they can only summon clothes onto them if they already know how to do it in the first place.

That must cause Tauxolouve a bit of trouble.

Aigonorus: My Favourite Pillow

You know I was saying some were before any dating? Well in this one it's implied she's barely even spoken to Aigo before.

I love the sweet calmness of this one. It's complete fluff because it's Aigo but it's still sweet.

That said I'm more interested in other little details that this raises: Like the particular pillow this is about being bought by Teo. It's nice to have a little snippet into what their relationship with each other is like, as I feel Aigo isn't really shown that deeply in regards to friendships/rivalries between him and the other Gods. We know he's Leon's best friend and Tauxolouve seems to be the one who stops him getting into trouble, but there's not so much about the others here.

Kind of amusing how Aigo doesn't actually have any entertainment/hospitality ideas and yet accidentally gives one of the nicer stories, for me at least.

Tauxolouve: A Private Evening for Two Special

Oh dear Lou. I think you misjudged this completely. At least you fixed it in the end but... that wasn't very hospitable of you at all.

I feel like Lou's could have been a bit different. It's not even that the nightclub itself was the issue.

That said, maybe he was unsure what to do as again this is one before MC really knows him, and the later part of the evening feels more Tauxolouve to me.

Heavenly Pleasures: Punishments

Scorpio: A Clumsy Form of Kindness

Pfft. Oh dear. Poor Scorpio. He's really trying. I don't know what possessed him to try this form of hospitality other than it being the one highlighted in a magazine.

And yet... somehow I still find this quite sweet. Maybe it's the rabbit apples.

Dui: Two Sorts of Kisses

Hah. Hahaha. Whilst Scorpio is too hostile, Dui's too damn intimate. I don't think the tea really had any part in this.

Dui's clingy but I still find him rather endearing.

Ichthys: Unexpected Entanglements

This is one of the ones where I can kind of see it working either as MC with him already or not because it has hugging and sweetness but it's not obviously definitely like a lot of the others.

Just a couple of things Ikky: How exactly do you a) fit an entire maze in your room, and b) If you summoned it, how did you do it in such a way that you don't know where the exit is either? How does that work? Randomly moving it so many times until you forget? Ask someone else to summon the exit? You've raised a lot of questions in my mind with this!

Zyglavis: An Intimate Etiquette Lesson

So for your hospitality show off Zig, you decide to take MC, a Japanese woman, to the dining room in the heavens, in an outfit that you say is for a dress code, aware that heaven food might not suit her palate so well so you opt for Earth food… specifically Earth food that makes up French Fine Dining?! Zig, love, I know you're trying and you do have more decorum than most of the others but… are you sure you thought this one through?

This one really does emit a tense and awkward atmosphere for a lot of it. Poor Zig is actually one of the ones that does proper hospitality but my word, please, relax.

And please stop hovering, never mind MC, you're making me nervous.

(You probably can't tell from the comments above that I actually adore this one. Somehow it's just so Zyglavis)

Krioff: Out in Nature with You

Hey, they gave Krioff something interesting! Well that makes a change at least.

And yet... I'm still struggling for things to say (sorry Krioff). This is a sweet one though.

Partheno: The Gift of Ultimate Beauty

Okay they went to the more nsfw side of the game with Karno, Teo, Dui, and definitely Leon, but oddly enough they didn't go that way with Partheno.

This is actually more about the skills and hospitality they all said they could provide.

Massages and makeup. Yes.

If I was to put these in the order of how much I think they succeeded with their hospitality/showing off their skills, I think it would probably be:

Huedhaut

Partheno

Karno

Teorus

Krioff

Dui

Scorpio (at least he's trying!)

Zyglavis (if you'd been more gentle you could have been a lot higher up but you were so focussed on the etiquette rules you weren't paying attention to how uncomfortable MC was!)

Ichthys (It might be more like a date and not really hospitality in any sense, but it's definitely showing Ichthys' skills... though he did get carried away)

Aigonorus (accidental calm discussions and pillow presents is still better than the two below you

Leon (If MC hadn't mentioned spas you were absolutely no different to normal you rabid lion!)

Tauxolouve (Don't damn well leave MCs side when you're in the middle of a nightclub in the heavens! It might be a place where they don't care about people's backgrounds but what the actual fuck did you think you were doing?)

If I put them in the order I enjoyed the stories themselves, we'd probably get something more like:

Huedhaut

Ichthys

Aigonorus

Karno

Zyglavis

Dui

Scorpio

Krioff

Partheno

Tauxolouve (at least you fixed your mistake)

Teorus

Leon

[phoenix]

Foenix Reviews: Flash 9x10 "A New World Part 1 - Reunions"

I haven't really done rambly reviews in forever, as I was recently lamenting, so I decided I'd at least comment on the first part of the final storyline for The Flash, and see if I can keep that up.

The main thrust of the plot this week has Barry getting abducted away from Iris, back to the year 2000, on the very night when his mother is fated to die.

At first, Barry is confused, and tries to get help the best he can, while making as little impact on the timeline as possible. He goes to beat cop Joe West, who is at his Joe-est and while confused about this kid who won't tell him much of anything, is still willing to trust him and try and help him.

But that's when Barry realises what day it is, and he rushes off to try and clear his head. He sees his parents, but is struck down by some all too familiar red lightning, and fortunately Doctor Henry Allen is there to help him.

So Barry is reunited with his parents, and it is one heck of an emotional journey, as he has this chance to tell them how much he loves them and misses them, without REALLY doing so.

If you're gonna end the show, this is absolutely the right note to go out on. We get to bring the series full circle with the pilot, and finally have Barry reach this point in his life, and at last make peace with it. It's a great way to bring closure to Barry's journey, and the series.

Along the way though, there are complications, most of which are in the form of the Reverse Speed Force, who borrows Joe's body to try and take out Barry. And props to Jesse Martin who does an amazingly creepy job. Seeing Joe acting so different is very unsettling, and Jesse nailed it.

Some of the highlights of the episode; I loved the constant use of blue in the set designs and costumes throughout the episode, heralding an impending arrival, Barry's very self aware, "Oh what have I done this time??", a phone call with Professor Stein, getting to see Matthew Letsch as Eobard Thawne one more time, seeing the Big Moment in the Allen house, with all the Barrys there, as we have seen them over and over again, and just getting that moment one last time, from this one last perspective.

Since the episode takes place almost entirely in the year 2000, the majority of Team Flash are set aside, as this is purely Barry's story, which is as it should be. Most of the cast are in holding patterns at this point for that reason. Iris is in the final weeks of her pregnancy thanks to a time jump, a necessary evil with the end of the show fast approaching, Chuck and Allegra are flirtily doing their thing and that's fine for what it is, and Khione is uh...Khione's exhibiting a few new powers. Her misty poofy trick is VERY reminiscent of Deathstorm, but that probably means nothing, even if it should, and I've long been a supporter of her creation being such a mess because of ALL the energies Caitlin has encountered over the years, including those of Deathstorm VERY prior to her death...but I digress.

I did really like her writing a letter to her sisters, which is a nice way to keep their presence alive in the show, such as it is, and gives them some much needed connection, which has been lacking.

All in all, this was a great setup for this hopefully epic series finale. It really stands out as the highlight of this season, and I might even put it up there as one of the better episodes of the series. It definitely has the air of finality around it, and bringing things full circle has everyone at the top of their game, and the writing is bringing the emotions, through Barry and his parents.

This was, quite simply, almost exactly what I want from an episode telling this story, and from the first part of a series finale.

The show has had a lot of ups and downs, and while I've been a fan all through them, I don't deny it has stumbled over the last few seasons. But last week, and this week's episodes have given me a fair amount of hope that the show might actually go out on a VERY high note.

*waves at Eric Wallace as he sets up a football for me to try and kick!*

[cosettepontmercys]

I saw your vent post about reading, and I get it! Hitting a book slump sucks, and I know there's nothing I can really say to make it better. I just wanted to let you know that I, for one, am majorly impressed with how many books you read! Honestly seeing your books read log makes me so happy, I love seeing your thoughts on your reads and it's one of my favourite things about your blog! I also know how it feels with the whole 'making your hobby feel like a commitment' kinda thing and I just wanted to let you know that I feel for you 💜💜 and I really hope soon you'll get a new fire for reading and will fall in love with another new and grand adventure!

good morning 🤍 this was so so sweet to wake up to; i really appreciate your kind words. 🧸

my pre-coffee self got really ramble-y this morning, so i put this under the cut! 💌

reading is a very solitary activity for me, and so i'm often in search of people to chat about books with/a bookish community, and it's just really nice to know that you enjoy seeing my thoughts on books i've read!

i was recently telling one of my friends that i feel like tumblr is the only place i feel like i can be most authentic in my thoughts/ramblings about books — just because it is my least ... influencer-y platform (unlike my book twitter, or bookstagram, or my proper book blog). i have a fair amount of people in the publishing industry, authors, etc. who follow me on my bookstagram + book twitter (although i'm over on my book twitter a lot less nowadays), and i never want to hurt anyone's feelings. i firmly believe that reviewers are for readers, but i also know that things we accidentally come across (or things we intentionally come across) can sting. and i don't mean this in the way that my comments on books are inauthentic, just that i'm more likely to only talk about the positive bits of a book on my bookstagram, etc — or i'll only highlight books that i truly love. tumblr has always been a very refreshing place for me, that is completely different from bookstagram and book twitter and my proper book blog, and i think being more intentional about coming back to tumblr was a really good choice for me, even if i'm not editing as much as i used to (if at all).

last night's vent post was just a culmination of a long day, and after aggravating an old injury, i was just very ... frustrated and upset. i think i've just been feeling like a bit of an ... imposter, really, on here + in my other bookish spaces, which is just very, very silly. and on some level, i sometimes (often) feel like i'm undeserving of the ARCs i get/partnerships i get/followings/etc. that i have, especially on bookstagram. it's all just very, very silly! i ended up calling a friend (who is very removed from bookish things and influencing things) and they said a lot of things that i needed to hear, which was really helpful.

i ended up putting the ARC i was struggling with aside for now — it's not out for a couple months, and read two books last night (another result of not sleeping well)! all things considered, i'm really not doing that poorly with the amount of ARCs i've got; it's more so the books i've been gifted that i'm struggling with, but that's okay! i'll get to them when i get to them — as my friend helpfully reminded me last night, none of this is that serious.

i think i'm going to try to read something different (maybe a play or an audiobook) next to see if that'll help me get back into the swing of things! and i think i'm going to give myself some grace with reading "fewer" books in april (hopefully finishing some annotation projects that i started earlier this year too), especially since i've got a lot of exciting things in coming up! maybe i'll do a reread of some favorites to remind me of why i love reading!

i'd love to know what you're currently reading / what books you've been loving lately / what your favorite reads are 🤍 and i hope you're able to separate your hobby from your commitments too, whether that's reading or otherwise!

this truly was just the sweetest message and i appreciate you dearly 🤍 x

[itsme-basil]

Human Farm - read on ao3

Tags: steter, sex slave, breeding, dub-con

Part 1/2

Tagging: @therogueheart

Peter stepped out of the Shelby 1000, tongue snicking as his shoes crunched over the gravel driveway. His Cobra wasn't built for back roads. He hoped this trip was worth the potential chips in the blue paint. 

"Mr. Hale?"

Peter didn't turn to see who had called. He tugged at the sleeves of his suit jacket, getting rid of any creases in the fabric from the drive. He fiddled with his cufflinks, buttoned the first button on his jacket, and only once the other was within desired reach, did Peter lift his head to acknowledge him. 

He was an older gentleman. A jackal, in fact. Smelled like one. Peter resisted the urge to crinkle his nose in distaste. 

"Mr. Hale?" The man tried again. He was wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt, both with enough stains Peter wasn't entirely sure of the original colors. 

"You must be Dustin," Peter hummed. He raised an eyebrow at the jackal, noting the sharp sting of upset at Peter's tone laced with the equally unpleasant musk that every jackal seemed to possess. Like they rolled around in urine and rotten tomatoes. 

"That's me," Dustin tried for a smile. When Peter didn't return it, the jackal's shoulders tensed and the smile dropped. He took a breath, collecting himself before gesturing to the barn he'd just walked out of. 

"We can go on inside and see if anything interests you," he said. Peter gave a nod, lips pursing in displeasure. 

All the reviews had been excellent. They exceeded all of Peter's expectations. He was expecting something more. 

The two mile driveway was all gravel, the fields unkempt. The house he passed had chipping white paint and children's toys littering the yard. 

Peter had half a mind to turn around when he got to the barn -which also had peeling paint. Piles of scrap metal leaned against the broad side. Chickens ran across the path free range, and Peter decided he'd throw his shoes away once he made it back to the city. Maybe even the whole outfit. The car was definitely getting detailed at the least. 

"Is there anything specific you have in mind?" Dustin asked, pulling at the barn door. It squeaked on its hinges and Peter tried not to wince at the offending sound. 

"Purebred male," Peter responded, stepping over the threshold after Dustin. "Money isn't an object, I'd prefer to see your finest."

He had no hope that the man's finest was up to par. Based on the facility, Peter was sure he'd be walking out of here with his money. 

"Of course," Dustin smiled stiffly. He led Peter across the massive barn hall, stalls on either side. There was a cross hallway with its own stalls. At least the place smelled clean. The hall floor looked freshly swept. Peter peeked into a stall as they passed. 

It was furnished with a bed, a desk and dresser. Empty but it looked used, so Peter assumed the occupant was getting exercise. 

"Here's our first," Dustin said, bringing Peter over two stalls down. He opened the door and ushered whoever was inside out. Peter raised an eyebrow. 

The human was taller than Dustin. He was built well, hair trimmed. Peter stepped over, slightly impressed. He ignored Dustin's telling of the man's lineage, walking around the man, taking in the legs, the firm ass, broad shoulders and prominent pectorals. 

Peter hummed. "How old," he demanded. 

"Uh, he's nearly thirty," Dustin stammered, cut off from his rambling about the human's grandparents. 

"He won't do," Peter decided, shaking his head and stepping away in clear dismissal. He wanted something young. Something that could keep up. 

Dustin put the man back in the stall and scurried to catch up with Peter's easy gait. 

"Are you looking for something younger?" He asked. Peter hummed once more affirmatively. 

"I've got a twenty-three year old," Dustin said. "Most of our younger males are already bought for future breeding purposes."

Peter was surprised anyone would buy from this place to further their own breeding programs. He didn't show it though. 

The next two males weren't anything to write home about. One held himself in a way that Peter knew would rankle him after more than a few minutes, and the other was a trembling mess of anxiety. Not even his pretty eyes and curly blonde hair made that one worth it. 

At this point, Dustin seemed a little desperate. Either to get Peter to buy something or to find something Peter actually liked. 

"We've got one more," Dustin said, voice tight. "He's just recently been weaned from his mother, and I wasn't going to put him up until he was a bit older-"

"Show me," Peter interrupted. If this place was as professional as the website said, the male would be around the age of seventeen. Just recently weaned was something that appealed to Peter. The older the male, the more likely it's been used, and therefore not something Peter was interested in. 

Dustin looked hesitant, his features screwing up in indecision before he headed to the back of the barn. Peter followed along, unimpressed. 

They left the main barn through the back and crossed the gravel pack to a smaller barn. This one was mostly empty. Peter assumed it held the younger ones. 

These stalls had papers tacked to them. Peter read through some in passing. 

Female, age- 16, 60% human 40% wolf

Male, age- 17, 80% wendigo 20% human

Peter continued on, eyeing the different percentages. Dustin stopped in front of a stall, the paper listing its occupant as 100% human. 

"He may spook," Dustin said tightly, hand on the door. "He's been too young to integrate him with anyone but the mother and father."

Peter gave him an impatient scowl when the jackal didn't immediately open the door. 

"Just-just go slow," Dustin practically begged, like he knew Peter wouldn't and he was wasting his breath. "He might not be receptive."

Peter nearly growled. "Just open the damn thing."

Dustin tugged it open. Peter stepped inside. The stall was a bit smaller than the stalls in the other barn. 

The bed was smaller, and instead of a desk and dresser, the stall had what looked like a small play area. There was a coloring book discarded on the floor with colored pencils in a cup. 

A few stuffed animals and other educational toys and games sat in a chest in the corner. The human was on the bed beside the play area, tucked up into the corner with a fleece blanket over himself. His eyes were wide, skittish and honey brown. 

Dustin stepped in as well, stepping around Peter and avoiding the wolf's suit. Peter didn't step aside to give him any more room to navigate, but the jackal managed fine with only a slight brush of his jacket sleeve. 

The human on the bed tucked himself in further. 

"His name is Stiles," Dustin said, reaching forward with an open palm. Stiles didn't react until Dustin wiggled his fingers. "Come on out, Stiles."

It took well over ten seconds before the boy's legs unfurled from his chest. The blanket fell away to reveal a button nose and sharp jaw. 

He was deceptively lengthy as Dustin urged Stiles out of the bed and to his feet. He reached just taller than the jackal, thin as a pole. The clothes he wore hung off him awkwardly. The younger humans usually wore clothes, their bodies not able to regulate their own heat as well as the older ones. They still ran colder than most other species. 

"His father was brought in from Poland," Dustin said, gently pushing Stiles to walk towards Peter. The boy's eyes flickered from Peter to the door, back to the bed and over Dustin. Skittish was a perfect description. 

Peter reached up when he was close enough and the boy yanked his head away, heartbeat jumping. Peter was quick to shush him, reaching forward again to grab his chin. 

Stiles blinked up at him, beginning to tremble. 

"How much for him?" Peter demanded, turning Stiles' face from left to right. Moles dotted across his cheeks and down his neck. He let Peter pry his mouth open, his thumb hooked over Stiles' lower teeth. 

Dustin gave him a low number. A surprisingly low number for the boy. He didn't mention Dustin could double and still not get his money's worth. Instead, he hummed, sounding for all the world as disinterested as possible. 

The thing in his grip curiously pressed his tongue to Peter's thumb, mouth still held open. Peter smirked down at him, petting the underside of his chin with his fingers. 

"If you'd like, we can keep him here and finish getting him acclimated-"

"That won't be necessary," Peter interrupted, finally pulling his hand from Stiles. The boy closed his mouth, still curiously watching Peter as the wolf pulled out a checkbook from his back pocket. 

Dustin looked shocked for barely a second before schooling his features and nodding. Peter wrote down the price, signed on the dotted line and tore at the perforated line. He put the checkbook back in his pocket before handing it to Dustin. 

"I'll be taking him today," Peter said with finality. "I'm sure you have the facilities to wash him."

"O-of course," Dustin stuttered. He looked at Stiles, looking for a reason Peter would want to have him washed, and not finding anything. Of course he wouldn't, Peter nearly scoffed. The jackal was covered in filth, and the boy smelled an awful lot like the facility outside. Peter had a ten hour drive back to his place and he wasn't willing to spend the whole time surrounded by the smell of the country, no matter how pretty the boy looked. 

Dustin left the stall to lead Peter to the shower room, and Peter held out his hand to the boy. 

"Time to go," he hummed. Stiles looked down at it, back up at him and swallowed. Peter was patient enough to keep his hand extended. Dustin was waiting in the hall. Stiles finally reached forward, barely pressing the tips of his fingers to Peter's. 

Peter smirked and he reached forward to clasp his hand. The boy followed Peter out of the stall on unsure feet. They followed Dustin to yet another building and then shifted from foot to foot as Peter led Stiles to one of the shower stalls. 

"You can leave now," Peter huffed, not looking back at the jackal. "I'm sure that check has places to be."

That got the jackal moving. He nodded once. "I'll do that," he said, still gripping the flimsy paper. "I can meet you out front once you're finished."

Peter didn't respond. The jackal left and Peter got to work helping Stiles out of his shirt and cotton pants. 

"What a pretty thing you are," Peter hummed as more skin was exposed. He was pale and littered with moles. The shower was turned on and Peter slipped out of his suit jacket. 

He looked for the cleanest place to set it, but sighed when nothing suited his standards. He drapes it over the back of a plastic chair, already planning on setting the fabric on fire when he gets back. 

He removed his cufflinks, dropping them into his pocket before rolling the sleeves of his white button down up past his elbows. 

Stiles didn't seem all that concerned with his nakedness. He didn't try to cover himself, and didn't blush as Peter eyed him from head to toe, lingering on his little cock hanging softly between his thighs. 

"What is a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" Peter demanded, feeling his dick twitch in his slacks, filling slowly. 

Stiles glanced up at him, confusion in those honey eyes. He looked around the shower room which was quickly filling with steam. 

"Dunno," he answered, and wasn't that cute. His voice was deep for his age, but didn't lack that youthful edge. He was going to have fun with this boy. 

"Come here," he demanded, lifting a hand. Stiles was quicker to step forward than the first time, moving right into Peter's touch. The boy was curious as Peter ran a thumb over his lower lip. He opened his mouth and Peter hummed in approval, smirking as he pushed his thumb in. 

Stiles' tongue reached out to met him, licking at the pad out of curiosity and not sexual advance. Peter stroked his thumb over Stiles' tongue, feeling it undulate to meet him. 

"You're going to be perfect, aren't you?" Peter smirked, pressing his thumb in deeper. Stiles let his jaw drop open to make room. 

The meatier part of his thumb passed Stiles' lips and the boy suddenly gagged, tears welling in his eyes. Peter pulled back, allowing him to cough but not removing his thumb entirely from the boy's mouth. 

"I know," Peter mock sympathized, petting at Stiles' tongue again as Stiles heaved and swallowed. "You'll get better at it."

Stiles -the poor thing- nodded, blinking wet eyes up at him. Peter didn't bother pressing back again. Instead, he levered his grip on the boy until he could do nothing but lower himself to his knees. He looked up at Peter, his mouth still held open. 

"Good," Peter praised. "You take direction wonderfully, pretty thing." 

Who knew he'd find something like Stiles in a dump like this. The strain on his cock against his slacks was becoming difficult to ignore, and he used the hand not gripping Stiles' jaw to pop the button of his slacks, tugging the zipper down. His skin was growing tacky from the shower steam, but he managed to get his slacks and briefs down enough for his cock to spring free. 

"You're going to be a good boy for me, aren't you, Stiles," Peter asked, gripping his cock just under the head and sweeping it across Stiles' cheek. 

"Yes," Stiles answered, the word slurred as Peter pressed down on his tongue. Peter's smirk widened and he forced Stiles to open his mouth wider. 

He feeds the head of his cock into Stiles' mouth, hooking his thumb over Stiles' teeth to keep him from biting down. The curious little thing met him with his tongue, pressing flat against his tip. Peter fed him a little more and the tongue flattened down, making room. 

Peter removed his hand from his cock to curl around the back of Stiles' neck, keeping his head angled to make the slide down his throat more comfortable. 

Holding Stiles still with both hands, he continued to gently thrust into his mouth, the shower room filled with the wet sloppy sound of his cock sliding in and out of Stiles' mouth. 

The boy blinked rapidly, trying to work his tongue with not much room. His hands reached forward to grip the front of Peter's thighs, fingers flexing rhythmically. Peter pushed in a little deeper, the fingers tightening their hold as Stiles' face got red, eyes watering as he gagged against him. The feeling of his mouth contracting around him was heavenly. 

Peter growled out a groan, hips snapping forward. Stiles coughed, palms pressing forward. Too weak to stop Peter from continuing to fuck into the deepest part of Stiles' mouth. 

Spit and bile drooled from his chin as he continued to gag on Peter's cock, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

"There's ways to get you to lose that reflex," Peter managed, fingers curling tightly to angle Stiles' head back further. The boy was panicking, struggling to breath between his cock hitting the back of his tongue and gagging. 

With the new angle, it was a straight line down his throat. Peter only had to add a little pressure for his cock to slip past the boy's tonsils. Peter didn't stay put for as long as he wanted. He'd have to train the boy to hold his breath later on. 

He pulled his cock clear from his mouth as Stiles choked on air and spit, gagging and coughing. 

"No more," Stiles choked out, eyes red with tears. Bile and spit clung to Peter's hand and he used his thumb to smear it across Stiles' mouth, allowing the boy a moment to rest his jaw. "Please."

"Almost done," Peter promised. He slipped his thumb back between pretty pink lips, forcing his mouth open. Stiles struggled a little, but his breathing was fairly regular, so Peter didn't waste time. He shoved himself into Stiles' wet warmth. 

The boy shoved at his thighs, but even if he had been older, Peter knew he wouldn't be able to move him. "Shh," he murmured over the wet gagging noise as he pushed in deeper. "Hold your breath."

He waited until the words sank in, Stiles watering eyes widening before he sucked in a breath. Peter shoved himself down Stiles' throat. 

He stayed there, thrusting as deep as he could go, in and out past Stiles' tonsils at a brutal pace. He felt the boy retch around him, more bile and spit dirtying his hand and Stiles' chin and front. 

He fucked the boy's mouth until he felt his balls drawing up into him, his cock twitching. Peter pulled out, keeping Stiles' mouth open. He removed the hand from around his neck and stripped himself roughly, spit making it an easy slide. 

Stiles coughed and panted, nearly biting down on Peter's thumb as he slumped down. Peter came on a growl, cum splattering against Stiles' mouth and chest, adding to the mess. 

He hummed, satisfyingly empty as he released Stiles' chin. The boy slumped to the floor, his hands leaving the wolf's thighs to grab his throat. Peter wiped his hand on his ruined suit jacket before tucking himself back into his pants. He glanced down at his shoes and snicked his tongue in displeasure. 

It couldn't be helped at the moment, so he reached down to grab Stiles' under the arms and force him to his feet. The boy swayed uneasily on his bare feet, gaze distant and wet. 

"Shower time," Peter decided, spinning Stiles around and giving him a pat on the ass. Stiles stumbled into the shower and Peter got him to clean his front. 

The shampoo was strong and made Peter want to sneeze, but it covered up the stink of the facility, so he kept his displeasure to himself. 

Once the boy had fully cleaned himself under Peter's supervision, he was bundled in a towel and dried off. Peter did screw his nose up when he realized Stiles would have to put on his previous outfit. 

"We're burning everything when we get back," Peter decided as Stiles got dressed, his hair dripping onto the shoulders of his shirt. 

Peter draped his suit jacket over his forearm and held out his hand for Stiles. The boy seemed even less willing to reach out, his throat working painfully to swallow. Peter sighed something put upon and wiggled his fingers the way he'd seen Dustin do. 

"I don't have all day, pretty."

Stiles reached forward, allowing Peter to wrap his fingers around his and the wolf headed out of the room. He followed the gravel path past the two other barns to the front, where his car still sat, nearly pristine juxtaposing the overgrown lawn and rocky drive. Dustin had the sense of mind not to lean against the Cobra as he waited, and Peter was grateful, though it would be getting detailed anyway. 

"Pleasure doing business with you, Dustin," Peter fringed delight, walking right past the jackal and to the passenger side door. It was a little slower, Stiles navigating the gravel with bare feet. 

"Uh, yeah, same to you," Dustin stuttered. Peter yanked open the passenger door and guided Stiles to it. 

"Sit down, pretty," he hummed softly to the boy. Stiles looked inside before up at Peter. He settled into the seat, bare feet in the foot well. Peter straightened when he felt the jackal coming closer, holding out a small pack of papers stapled together in the corner. 

"These are just legal papers. He'll need to get fixed, or there's an extra charge if you want to use him for breeding purposes. You'll need to sign everything before you leave."

Peter turned back to Stiles, leaning down and grabbing the seatbelt. 

"Arms up," he ordered. The boy did as he was told and Peter clipped him in, pulling the belt snug around him before shutting the door. The jackal frowned, still holding out the papers. 

"Mr. Hale," he prompted, giving the papers a little shake. 

Peter stepped forward and grabbed the papers. He walked around the hood and opened the driver's side door. He got one foot in before Dustin made a noise in protest. 

"My lawyer will look this over before I sign anything," Peter called over the top of his car. "You'll get them through the fax."

And with that, he dropped into the seat and slammed his door shut. The papers were flung into the back seat as he started the car. The jackal shouted at him, red in the face, but Peter revved the engine and peeled out of the circle drive, kicking up gravel. 

Peter smirked as the jackal jumped back, still shouting. He tore down the driveway, smirking as dust and rock clouded the air behind him. 

Beside him, Stiles was gripping the doorframe and the dashboard with white knuckles, breath short and panicky, eyes wide. 

"Ever been in a car before, pretty?" Peter asked, directing his smirk to the human beside him as he took a bend too fast. Stiles squeaked and shook his head. 

The drive was smoother once they hit pavement, but Stiles was still stiff in his seat. His wide eyes looked out the window, watching the world pass by in a blur. They had a ten hour drive, Peter knew the boy would settle in a while. Might even be lulled to sleep. 

He didn't bother reassuring the boy, just headed towards the on ramp heading to north California. 

[not-your-housekeeper98]

Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt: Pneumonia

I’m so excited to share with you all my first fic for Bad Things Happen Bingo!!

AO3 link here

The Adventure of the Dedicated Doctor

Dr. Watson stamped his feet in a futile effort to warm himself. The only sounds were the crunch, crunching of the snow beneath his boots and the whirring of the wind. He shivered as it rounded the corner and hit him full on. A little ways down the street, the great detective, Sherlock Holmes, was performing similar actions.

Somewhere, a bell chimed the quarter, and then the second. Still the two figures remained at their respective posts, waiting. The plan was to prevent the fourth in a series of murders that had taken place across London. After the second murder, Holmes had discovered the murderer left clues in the advertising section of a particular newspaper. He had correctly predicted the location of the third one, but arrived too late. As unfortunate as this was, it gave him the precise time that the murderer struck; a quarter to two in the morning.

Holmes reviewed these facts under his breath between shivers. He wished he had thought to bring his heavier coat, and a muffler would have felt splendid right about now. The cold felt like it was slowly seeping into his bones. He suppressed a cough and resumed stamping his feet.

At his post, Watson was losing patience. According to Holmes's calculations, a murder should have happened fifteen minutes prior, directly in front of him, but he had seen and heard nothing.

From the darkness shrouding the opposite street corner, came the sounds of a scuffle and a muffled cry. Watson hurried towards it.

"Holmes!"

"I do believe we have our man, Watson. "

"Good heavens."

A short fellow in a tweed coat struggled in vain against Holmes's chokehold. Holmes himself had a trickle of blood trailing from a nostril but otherwise seemed unharmed.

"I'd better get Inspector Lestrade," said Watson.

By the time Scotland Yard was content with the account of what had occurred and the weary detectives reached Baker street, dawn was just beginning to color the horizon. Holmes retired to his room after instructing Watson not to disturb him for any reason, orders which the tired doctor had no intention of breaking.

It was late afternoon by the time Watson awoke. Despite his nighttime adventures he felt refreshed and decided to go for a walk. Upon leaving his bedroom, he saw Holmes curled up in his armchair facing the fire, his back to Watson.

“Ah, Holmes I didn’t know you were up.”

No answer.

“I’m going on a walk, I’ll be back later.”

Still no reply from the chair.

Watson shrugged, and grabbing his coat and hat, left the flat.

Some hours later he returned. Holmes was in the same position he had been in when Watson left.

“Good evening Holmes,” he puffed cheerily, hanging up his coat and hat behind the door. Holmes seemed to ignore him.

“Oh come now Holmes, you can’t be asleep, not with all the noise I’ve made. We should celebrate; another dangerous criminal off the streets, thanks to you. I stopped by the Yard, and they were very grateful.”

Holmes did make a sound then; a groan, followed by a hoarse coughing fit.

“Holmes!”

Watson hastened to the chair his friend was sitting in. Holmes was curled up in the chair holding his side as his whole body shook from the effort of coughing. His brow creased in pain as he sat, shivering under his dressing-gown. His face was white, except for two feverish spots of red upon his sharp cheekbones. His eyes were closed and he didn’t respond when Watson took his pulse.

“Holmes!”

Watson tried to rouse the detective in vain. The only sound in the room was the alarming rattle coming from the sick man's lungs. Holmes began to cough again, gasping and heaving for air between wheezes. Watson kept his hand soothingly on his shoulder until the fit subsided. Then the doctor left his friend for a moment in search of his black bag and calling for Mrs. Hudson, he settled down to perform his duty as a physician.

For three days and nights, the great Sherlock Holmes lay ill. Inspector Gregson and Inspector Lestrade along with other members of Scotland Yard dropped in to ask after him, and to leave cases that needed the detective’s attention once he recovered. Somehow the news had spread and all of London waited with bated breath to hear of any change to his condition. Mrs. Hudson was kept busy, when she wasn’t assisting the doctor, turning away reporters and inquisitive visitors. Past clients sent gifts and offers of aid and well wishes. Every evening, a representative of the Bakers Street Irregulars arrived to inquire as to the health of their friend. Mrs. Hudson always had the same answer.

Watson slept very little during this time. A bed had been made up in the living room for the detective both for convenience and proximity to the fire and Watson stayed in a chair at the bedside. The doctor tried every cure known to him but nothing seemed to have an effect. Holmes still lay, propped up by pillows, growing paler and weaker with each passing hour. The silence of the sickroom was punctuated only by hacking coughs from the sick man. During this time he was rarely conscious, lapsing on occasion into delirium when his fever rose.

His fever peaked on the second day after a seemingly endless night. Watson fought to bring his fever down all night, locked in a desperate struggle with the angel of death. But with the dawn came hope and he at last succeeded in bringing Holmes back to safety. The danger was not over yet by any means but the great battle had been won for the time being.

On the morning of the fourth day, Watson was awakened from a doze by the sound of his name softly called. Hurrying to his patient’s bedside he discovered Holmes looking up at him. His eyes were clear, the shine of fever gone entirely.  He had regained some color, although the lines of pain and exhaustion could still be traced on the slender face.

“Holmes, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Better I hope.” Watson rambled as he fumbled with his stethoscope and checked his pulse and breathing.

“Yes, much better. Thank you, Watson.” Holmes closed his eyes, worn out by the effort of speaking.

Watson smiled and adjusted the comforter.

“Delighted to hear that my dear Holmes, now you just rest awhile and try not to undo my hard work.” Watson settled back in his chair and soon fell asleep himself.

On a brisk February morning, Dr. Watson entered 221 Baker Street, stamping the snow from his boots as he closed the door behind him. Armed with the day's newspaper he ascended to his rooms humming a cheerful tune. Entering the flat he saw Holmes engaged in intensive study of an alarmingly large volume.

“Holmes you really shouldn’t be reading at this stage. Your brain needs rest as much as the rest of your body does.”

Holmes looked up from his reading.

“Watson, the brain needs exercise in the same way a man running a race needs to exercise his muscles. If he injures one, he still works the others, otherwise, he loses all that he gained. I have let my intellect sit for too long without occupation. Such a delicate instrument needs frequent exercise lest it becomes dull and useless. This treatise on types of clay found in the north of England seemed a good place to start. Unless there’s something else?” Holmes looked inquisitively at the newspaper.

“Well, I suppose you have a point Holmes. Some light work might be healthful indeed. Scotland Yard left some cases for you to look over. They might be more interesting than types of clay.”

“Ah, let us see then, shall we?” And Holmes reached for the file Watson handed him. “After all, the game is afoot.”

[kisekinodrabbles]

helloo! i'd like to request something for the prompt game please :D kasamatsu + band!au + strangers to lovers + dialogue number 14 if that's okay? thanks, sam! and welcome back~

ofc!!! i tried to keep it shorter but im a bit rusty w my kasamatsu hehe hope u enjoy! wc: 2.3k

Kasamatsu admits that balancing his band and college work isn’t exactly an easy task. Between late evenings spent at gigs and all nights at the library, he is on the brink of his sanity, standing right at the tipping point. He yawns as he enters his nine am mandatory calculus class, another mistake made in his overconfidence that he would somehow be able to get his shit together.

You, on the other hand, are a closeted fan of his band, sitting three rows behind him in class. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you watch him drag his feet in and his hand lifting to his mouth in a yawn. Quickly, you duck behind your book as if Kasamatsu would ever give you the time of day. The brunette is well-known on campus with his successful group and good looks, not to mention he also dabbles a little in basketball while also maintaining a decent grade point average across all his classes. Triple threat, they call him.

When you first came into class and saw him there, shocked is an understatement. You’ve been following his band his high school from across the country. To see him in the flesh, so real and so human with his tired eyes, it almost feels like a dream. One you hope nobody would ever pinch you awake from. Thus, you made it your goal to be there before him every morning, which is a feat in itself. Kasamatsu may be grinding through the night and falling asleep in lectures, but he’ll be damned if he shows up late to class.

Throughout several weeks, you’ve seen girls come up to him left and right, shot down almost immediately by his intention to focus on the professor’s words. He lets them down easy and makes it clear that he pays thousands of dollars to study, not play IRL Tinder. This man gets sexier everyday.

You take your time packing your things when class is over, mainly because you’re too distracted watching Kasamatsu do the same. He is blind, or chooses to ignore, the whispers and shy glances thrown his way. Perhaps this is why you haven’t approached him yourself. You’re just one of his many admirers, a stroke in the massive painting of his life. Sighing, you pick up your pitiful self and make your way to the dining hall where you’re supposed to meet your friend for breakfast.

When the two of you settle on a table, you begin your weekly rambling about how beautiful Kasamatsu looks in the morning. Moriyama, being the good friend that he is, nods and listens intently.

Moriyama is an intriguing character. The two of you met because he had tried a line on you. In your perpetual state of flustered embarrassment, you had stupidly confessed to him: “Sorry, my heart belongs to Kasamatsu Yukio.”

In another twist of fate, he revealed that he had actually gone to high school with the guy and knew him pretty well.

“You know I can introduce you to him, right? No need for all this pining and drooling from three feet away.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue, “he’s practically a living legend on campus. I’m too intimidated to even breathe in the same air as him.” Your obsession has perhaps taken you too far, but if you expect to continue being his fan, the last thing you want is to scare him away.

“You’re so overdramatic,” Moriyama rolls his eyes. Coming from him, this sentence means a lot.

“What? It’s not my fault Kasamatsu’s so hot. He could bang me so hard backstage then pretend I don’t exist and I would still pay to watch his next show,” you groan, spooning yogurt into your mouth.

In that moment, several things happen. Moriyama’s eyes widen and fly behind you. Footsteps sounding at that same spot suddenly cease completely. You, realizing what possibly just happened, feel the heat flare up your cheeks.

Kasamatsu, in his sleep deprived state and probably completely delirious, had stopped in his tracks. His head whipped around to the source of the comment, finding Moriyama sitting with someone who looks distinctly familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Kasamatsu—”

Before Moriyama can even finish his sentence, Kasamatsu is already blurting out. “Okay, maybe I’m crazy but did I just hear you say that out loud?”

You want to crawl into your hole six feet underground and never see the light of day again. Ducking your head, you don’t even want to chance a glance up. The utter mortification is chewing away at your bones and you wish you could just evaporate into thin air.

Moriyama quickly interjects with a quick laugh, “Hear what? Also how have you been, man? I haven’t seen you in forever. Come join us for breakfast.”

Kasamatsu’s brows pucker. Maybe he really is going insane. And horny. Which is a very bad combination. Nevertheless, he slides into the empty seat next to Moriyama. He stares at you for a few seconds, squinting, before snapping his fingers. “Oh, I remember now. You’re in my calculus class.”

He knows you? “How do you know me?” you squeak, cursing your fangirl self for losing your voice. You never speak up in class, always choosing to come up to your professor for questions at the end of lecture. You’re quiet and tucked away behind him, so you never expected him to recognize you.

The smile he sends you is blinding. Even with shadows under his eyes, he still looks gorgeous. “You’re always first to arrive and last to leave. Figured you’re a hard worker in class and probably acing it.”

Your mouth dries. Kasamatsu noticed you. He actually noticed you. “Oh, um, I’m okay. I’m okay in class, I mean.”

“The question you should be asking is her name, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama scolds, smacking his back.

Kasamatsu pinks sheepishly. “Sorry, yeah. I’m Kasamatsu Yukio, by the way.”

Idiotically, you blurt out “I know” before your name. When you finally introduce yourself, you also clarify, “I’m a huge fan of Blue Devils. I mean, I’ve been following you guys since like high school. Absolutely love your music.”

The man actually reddens even further, but still he beams proudly. “Thank you! That’s crazy. Have you been to our shows?”

Almost all of them. “A couple, yeah.”

“We have one tonight in an actual venue. Are you coming?”

“Ah, it was sold out before I could get a ticket, actually.”

Kasamatsu blinks, “Oh, you’re more than welcome to come. I can get you a pass. Both of you—if Moriyama’s interested.”

“That would be amazing!” You grin, “Is there anything I can get you in return? I don’t want to just accept a gift from you for free.”

“Well, if you are good at calc, I wouldn’t mind some extra tutoring,” he suggests with a teasing grin.

Moriyama rolls his eyes, “Just ask her out instead of using tutoring as an excuse.” The two of you sputter, face colored a dark shade of red. You’ll kick his ass when you get the chance.

—

That one mistake turned out to be the greatest opportunity of your life. In addition to attending his show that night and meeting all of his bandmates, each one more good looking up close than then other, you manage to have weekly study sessions (you’re holding off on calling it dates) with Kasamatsu. The two of you take turns booking rooms at the library to cram, which mainly consists of you reexplaining concepts to the man. Although he isn’t a bad student, he’s also still struggling a bit to keep up.

“Hey” is what you hear before you feel a warm surface press against your cheek. You look up to find Kasamatsu with a steaming cup in hand. Gratefully accepting it, you catch a whiff of freshly brewed tea. You take a sip and smile. Black tea, no sugar. “Just the way I like it.”

“Noticed you never add anything to your tea,” Kasamatsu says almost proudly.

You raise the cup to him in thanks. Both of you go through your usual routine—you focusing on reviewing material for next week while Kasamatsu pores over his notes from this week, occasionally poking you to ask questions.

Honestly, a big part of you still wonders if this is all a dream. This guy you’ve been crushing on for years is sitting in the flesh right across from you. You peek at him from time to time, watching the way he frowns at his book. His blue, almost grey, eyes shine underneath the flickering lights. Even the way his lips curl unhappily is cute.

When he catches you staring, you quickly drop your gaze back to your laptop, missing the way he smiles quietly.

“Will you come to our show this weekend?” He asks as the two of you pack up.

“Ah, I have a shift at my part-time job.”

He looks surprised, “That late?”

You shrug, “Food never sleeps, I guess. It’s at the burger diner by campus.”

“Oh, are you guys open late?”

“Close at one.”

He nods, “Maybe I’ll see you there after then. The guys usually get really hungry after a gig so we can drive some business your way. I’ll make sure they tip well too.”

Your heart warms at the thought. It’s a thoughtful gesture but you’re even more thrilled at the prospect of seeing him. “Sounds good.”

True to his word, Kasamatsu brings the guys to your workplace at midnight after their show ended. They order quite a spread, practically everything on the menu. Kasamatsu goes as far as to help you carry orders to their table. You shoot him an appreciative smile.

Over the time your friendship has bloomed, Kasamatsu has been nothing but a gentleman. He walks you home to your dorm if you’re studying late into the night. He meets you in class with a muffin or a cookie from his early Starbucks runs. Surprisingly, he begins placing himself next to you each session. “This is better anyway,” he mutters. “Two birds, one stone.”

His vague words had you tilting your head in question.

“I don’t have random people coming up to me to sit with me and, well, I get to enjoy your company.” It’s a nice thought—him enjoying your company, that is. He had blushed a little when he realized what you said, but chose to direct his attention to the slides pulled up before him, missing the way you hide your smile behind your sleeve.

Now, you hear the rowdy boys chattering on as they devour their meal as if it’s their last. They speak through mouthfuls of burgers and fries, but you find the sight endearing, mainly because you’ve never seen Kasamatsu so relaxed. It’s quite refreshing really. Your attention is piqued when you hear one of them ask: “So doing it tonight huh?”

Kasamatsu retorts with a “shut the fuck up” and flings a fry his way. The way the other guy wiggles his brows suggestively has you freezing. What if he was meeting up with someone tonight? What if he was going to do the deed?

Somewhere in the distance, you hear the faint cracking of your heart. Of course, Kasamatsu is popular. It’s no surprise he’s got his nights covered as well. You sigh dejectedly, feeling the hope inside you crumble into dust. The rest of your shift goes by rather uneventfully, but you try to avoid going to their table too much, lest you hear more details about Kasamatsu’s planned tryst. The man himself steals glances your way, wondering if you’ll be checking on them anytime soon.

“Your check,” you smile as you set the bill on the table, “I got the owner to give you a discount since you guys ordered a good amount.”

All of their eyes seem to sparkle as they thank you in unison, their synchrony almost puzzling. As you move to pick up the bill and change, Kasamatsu catches your hand before you move away. “What time does your shift end?”

“Half an hour. Why?”

The other guys are already packing up their things and giving you little waves as they exit the restaurant, leaving the two of you alone. “I’ll walk you home, it’s late,” he murmurs, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

“Oh, you don’t have to! I usually take the bus back anyway so it’s no big deal.” You want to confirm whether he had plans that night anyway. You’d hate to be in the way of that.

He shakes his head, “I insist. Also, um, are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Catching up on studying most likely.”

“Oh,” he pauses, “if you have time tomorrow night, do you want to catch a movie with me? Maybe dinner after?”

You blink at him in surprise. Now that you’re looking at him properly, you notice that his cheeks are several shades darker than the red neon glow of the diner sign. He’s shifting on his feet and his other hand finds purchase on the strap of his bag, fidgeting with the material. “Um, like a date?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters slightly, his throat moving as he swallows. “Sorry, I probably should’ve made that clear,” he coughs, “b-but if you don’t want it to be the we can also go as friends.” Perhaps you’ve tortured the boy long enough but you can’t help but relish in his awkward chuckle as his hand lifts to rub the back of his neck nervously.

Biting back a huge grin, you nod. “It’s a date.”

Kasamatsu’s eyes light up and a pleased grin spread across his face. “It’s a date.”

The hollering outside the building has the two of you whipping to face the window where his bandmates have their faces pressed up against the surface, laughing and smiling to congratulate and embarrass their friend. Kasamatsu flushes, “I’ll see you later to pick you up.”

You nod but he’s already out the door, leaping to kick his friends away. “You stupid idiots!”

Laughing, you watch as the group makes kissy faces at Kasamatsu all the while the man fruitlessly attempts to shut them up. He really is cute.

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 2 of 26

Title: Authority (The Southern Reach #2) (2014) - REREAD

Author: Jeff VanderMeer

Genre/Tags: Horror, Science Fiction, Ecological Horror, Cosmic Horror, Mystery, Weird, Third-Person, Unreliable Narrator

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 1/05/2021

Date Finished: 1/10/2021

John "Control" Rodriguez, a disgraced former spy, is given an opportunity to redeem himself at the Southern Reach, the clandestine organization that oversees the mysterious and horrifying Area X. The director has gone missing following the disastrous "twelfth" expedition in Annihilation. Control is brought in to take over her job and fix the Southern Reach... and perhaps find a way to combat the insidious, paranormal effects of Area X.

But Control soon discovers just how deep Area X's corruption infects the place. Even worse, failures of the past-- both his own and those of the Southern Reach-- return to haunt him in disturbing ways. Badly outmatched within and without, Control will need to do everything he can to save not only the organization, but himself.

The last fragment of video remained in its own category: "Unassigned." Everyone was dead by then, except for an injured Lowry, already halfway back to the border.

Yet for a good twenty seconds the camera flew above the glimmering marsh reeds, the deep blue lakes, the ragged white cusp of the sea, toward the lighthouse.

Dipped and rose, fell again and soared again.

With what seemed like a horrifying enthusiasm.

An all-consuming joy.  

Full review, some spoilers, and content warning(s) under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: some body horror but way toned down compared to Annihilation. Mind control/hypnotic suggestion is still a thing. Non graphic sexual content. Disturbing images. Without spoiling the entire book, there are several scenes that come off as gaslighting, but do have an alternate explanation. As before, a pervasive sense of unreality.  

While Annihilation is a deep dive into the horrors of Area X, Authority takes a step back. It examines the situation from the perspective of the Southern Reach, the organization that oversees the expeditions we got to know so intimately in the last book. Control is a newcomer, so he functions as a natural outsider perspective. However, he's far from naïve due to his past experience in what I have to assume is the CIA (just called "Central" in the book). It's clear from the get-go that the Southern Reach is falling apart with its ancient buildings, circular and helpless theories, dwindling funding, and bizarre office politics. While Annihilation frames the Southern Reach as shady and possibly complicit in Area X's existence, Authority demonstrates the government would be predictably bad at handling an unknowable cosmic horror zone over any length of time.

Though I noted in my Annihilation review that most of the mystery surrounding Area X remains just that, Authority casually drops two major revelations in the first few chapters. First is... it's definitely aliens, right? Like, that's the only explanation that tracks-- why everything about the place is anathema to humanity, why it's impossible for characters to fully understand it, why mimicry is such a major aspect, etc. If you didn't suspect this already, it explains a lot. In particular, the "colonization" terminology and imagery in Annihilation hits different in that context. I have a lot of feelings about how this series approaches the extraterrestrial, but I'll save that for my Acceptance review.

The second reveal is that Control is taking over for the former director of the Southern Reach, who is MIA following Annihilation's "twelfth" expedition. Who is the director? The psychologist-- the pseudo antagonist of the last book, who we know got Super Killed Off. Turns out she's important and probably not actually evil? The biologist is also inexplicably back, but something is off about her, and she insists on being called Ghost Bird now. Did the biologist truly return (counter to the ending of the last book) or is this one of the shells Area X sometimes spits back out into the real world? If she's the latter, Ghost Bird seems to have much more personality and self awareness than the others. It is interesting to consider an entity of Area X would willingly name herself.

So, Authority is a weird book. The horror element is still present, but toned down. Instead, there's a lot of focus on the new character Control, his past, and the workings of the Southern Reach. In some ways this is refreshing. Annihilation (and the finale Acceptance) are so deeply entwined with Area X it's hard to see what "normal" looks like, and Authority brings that perspective. Relatively speaking. Second, and this is a spoiler, much of that normalcy is a facade. Control is basically mind controlled (heh) by a faction in Central, and is unaware of it for most of the book. It comes across in little ways, like the anachronistic storytelling and Control's confusion/disorientation at times.

We also learn that Area X doesn't just contaminate things inside it, but things outside it as well... and it's been doing this for some time. As a result, there's always a sense of Area X lurking in the periphery, manifesting in strange and unexpected ways. Something I like is the background chatter Control overhears being lines from Annihilation, which he isn't aware of, but the reader sure is.

I've read this book a few times, and while there are things I really like about it, it's probably my least favorite of the trilogy. I think the slower pacing and different narrative approach have merits, but just aren't as interesting to me as the rest of the series. It's noteworthy that my favorite bits in Authority are the disturbing video of the first expedition and the sudden End of Evangelion-esque return of Area X near the end-- not the espionage and philosophical tangents that comprise most of the book.  There are several ideas that seem interesting but don't go anywhere, and those feel like a waste of space. I think Authority could be pared down to half its page count and still get across the same feelings and general concept.

Control is also not the most interesting protagonist, especially compared to previous and later characters. He's not terrible, but he spends most of his time just thinking in circles and observing mundane office politics. While this is fine at first it starts to drag as the story goes on. As I said, a lot of tangents go nowhere, and there's not much going on beyond those until well over halfway into the book. Control does have a hidden tragic backstory, and it's interesting enough, but it barely factors into the overarching Area X storyline outside some symbolic comparisons. He feels out of place, perhaps intentionally.

I do like the dry humor and observations Control brings and how they contrast with the intense tone of Annihilation. I can also see the appeal of having a more ordinary character, if only to bring context to the extraordinary. But the problem is Control isn't ordinary. He's the youngest member of a dynasty of professional spies! Yet somehow I just don't find him exciting compared to an antisocial biologist. I dunno. Ultimately Control is a pawn in the story, used and manipulated by other people, and (spoilers) this doesn't change in Acceptance.

I had similar dilemmas with VanderMeer's Ambergris books, particularly book two, so perhaps it's a fact about his writing. When it's good it's GOOD, but sometimes the things I like get lost in rambling narrative fluff. The question is whether getting through the less interesting parts is worth it for the really good parts. With The Southern Reach trilogy, I'd argue the latter. I have no issues with the style or pacing in Annihilation or Acceptance, and the overarching story is fascinating.

I've mentioned many times before that I usually struggle with book twos in trilogies, and this one isn't an exception. However, I do appreciate what Authority is going for on a meta and lore level when viewing the series as a whole. It does establish a lot of things that either explain earlier stuff or pay off later; it just takes a while to get to them. The context of everything else bumps this to an 8.   

[robyndehood]

My Son's Story (pt. 1)

DISCLAIMER: I Know it's a bit of a long read, but it's important. Please read. I promise it isn't boring. Thank you!

Hi Everyone,

Intro

This is my first real attempt at Tumblr. Please contact me if anything I post violates a rule or is not considered appropriate. Anything I post, I truly mean no harm nor offense to anyone. But I need to write daily again to regain my gift and share it with the world. I have been working on my version of the "great American novel" for years. As a child, I was well on my way to becoming a successful author, but people had other ideas for my career path - and to put it bluntly - my contribution to society. Writer's block set in and then what was second nature to me - creative writing, became a lost skill. Or maybe a distant memory. Writers know that half the struggle as an artist is the dilemma of our own aspiration towards perfection. But nothing is perfect. It is a social construct and the antithesis of true beauty.

The Ultimate Birthday Gift

So, that said, let's talk about my son. He's three - he's actually turning four in December. He was born on my birthday and has been the greatest gift that I have ever received. I won't pretend that he is perfect or even generally compliant with my directions. But he's loving. He's empathetic. He's brilliant. He's beautiful. And most of all, he is the sweetest person I have ever met.

I am going to go slightly off-topic for a bit; just to paint the full picture. I don't want to ramble and I am definitely a believer that a short and to the point message is almost always far superior to a long and complicated message. But bear with me because this snippet of the backstory is essential. And my son's story is important.

Appalachia

We live in Pittsburgh, part of the Appalachian Mountain Range. There is no other way to say it than the unadulterated, ugly truth of it - Pittsburgh is racist. Very racist. Beyond that, there is a general lack of common courtesy to outsiders, customers of businesses, other patrons in stores, etc. And the rudeness, is actually pretty much unrelated to the racism. It sounds strange and surely, minorities who are on the receiving end of it would certainly assume that racism was the reason why they said "excuse me," "thank you," etc. and about half the time are ignored like they're a ghost. But don't get it twisted - there are many times the aforementioned behaviors by many Pittsburghers IS induced by racism AND a lack of common courtesy and manners. You see, their deep-seated tribalism is indoctrinated into many Pittsburghers so completely from a young age that they know no different. It would be difficult for them to understand this article and I'd bet anyone ten bucks that if enough PIttsburghers read this post - they will attack my analysis of Pittsburghese culture as though the post itself is a blitz on the entire city.

Brown or White?

I am latin and there aren't many latins in Pittsburgh. But when we moved to Pittsburgh when I was in seventh grade, people knew my last name. Summer had just passed and I do get brown. I can get brown very quickly in the right type of sun and I get brown eventually in the sun that exists in cloudy and northern Pittsburgh. In seventh grade, some boys decided it would be funny to call me "estupido," and up until two years ago, I avoided sun exposure that would reveal my "brownness" like the plague.

Subversive, Subconscious, and Secret Racism

So, not long after I started that strategy, I was treated as white. (Side note: latins can be any race; but it seems that societal constructs are seeking to change this long accepted designation and categorize latins as some in between, brown race and not an ethnicity. To be honest, I am ok with that and now proud to be latin.)

The reality of being treated white in Pittsburgh for many years was that I learned what white people actually said when they were only with other whites. The most common thing that was said was one white person mumbling to other white people that someone was a "dumb n******" or a "dumb monkey." I've heard white adults refer to children who were black as "n***lets." But it was always this crocodile smiling through their teeth behavior. They'd never dare say it to a black person. Instead, they'd just indirectly discriminate against them.

I do have to mention that by no means do all Pittsburghers behave this way. It's just too many of them. I don't know the percentage, but if I had to guess I'd say - 50% plus.

Yes, Racism Happens All The Time Even if You Don't See it Happen

Many white people will tell you that racism is gone because they don't ever observe it and Obama was president - a black president. Therefore, everything is now over. I can admit that I have experienced my share of discrimination when my skin darkens. But I had no clue how bad it was for black people out here until my son became the recipient of the ugliness of it all. To me, racists are by definition ignorant cowards; so it makes sense they'd pick on a small boy whose only family is his mother.

Evil Always Starts Slowly

If one reviews history, every evil dictator or regime began slowly chipping away human rights. By the time the citizens realized the dire state of their country, it was too late. Their freedoms were already taken away and mechanisms to fight back had also been methodically erased.

When my son was born - a boy who is half African (his father (if you want to call him that since he is basically not involved) is from Ghana); no issues arose for the first two and a half years. But then the indirect discrimination started. The same rules that applied for white children didn't apply to him. I could give so many examples. But let's just say, as a rambunctious boy, if my son mimicked a white boy's same rambunctious behavior, we were confronted and the white family was not confronted.

One day I made an appointment for my son's hair to get cut at Philip Pelusi. They made the appointment knowing that he was only two and a half. The receptionist let me know that the stylist was a "Grade A Stylist," so I would have to pay more. I was fine with paying more; cool. After the appointment was made, I mentioned to the receptionist that my son was mixed race. We ended the call and I began to get my son ready to leave. Within ten minutes, the salon called back and informed me that they didn't/wouldn't cut my son's "type of hair." I promptly returned the call and explained his hair was curly, that's all. They blatantly lied and told me that the stylist doesn't cut ANY curly hair. Right. So, if a white lady came in with curly hair she would be turned away? I doubt it. Either way, the stylist is "Grade A." She is also licensed to cut hair by the state. Shouldn't a requirement for state licensing require one to know how to cut all "types of hair"?; I saved the recording, by the way, and still have it.

As months progressed, little by little wherever my son and I went in "white areas," we felt hostile vibes. Other incidents occurred that couldn't be proven as racial discrimination, but I knew. Whites behaved as though my son didn't deserve to be around them.

Southern Hospitality

We traveled down south a few times in the past year. Yes, some of the south is very racist still to this day. But not where we drove. Suddenly people responded when we said "excuse me," "thank you," etc. No white families prevented my son from playing with their children. No one told me my son was a nuisance or put out that vibe.

The Lesser of Two Evils?

But we had to come back each time because we live here and I've been working my way out of the projects that I have lived in for four years. Shootings. Open drug use and sales. The smell of crack in the hallways. Infestations in other apartments that come our way no matter what we try. People peeing on the hallway floors. Yes, seriously. Young children being encouraged to bully and beat up other kids. Children stealing or attempting to steal my son's toys because their mothers buy them none. Gamgmembers as young as twelve.

So, I concluded: "yes, we will move, but until then, we only sleep in our apartment and we do not play at the projects' playground." I figured IF I saved a certain number of money since I have a car that I saved for and bought last year, we would make it in our new, chosen city (Tampa or Jacksonville).

But then the racism against my son in the "white playgrounds" became worse. One day he was playing with a five year old boy at an indoor playground. The mother had no issue with it. The father of the boy arrived half an hour in, promptly scooped the boy away from my son, and told his son that he had told him he was not to "play with n*****s." My son couldn't understand why he could no longer play with his new friend and kept calling to him, "friends again!" while sobbing because he thought he had upset the boy. I had to leave with my son because of it.

Another time, a ten-year-old boy taunted my son on an outdoor playground and called him a "dumb monkey." My son first attempted to yell, "I NOT DUMB MONKEY," a few times; but the boy persisted and even smirked in my direction. My son ran to me and asked me to make the boy stop. No parent in sight and again, I just had to leave with my son.

Enough is Enough

Finally, last month or so, my son and I were at our usual laundromat doing laundry. We had finished. My son skipped a few steps in front of me and tried to open the glass door but couldn't push the bar to open it because of his height. He placed (yes, placed..lightly) his foot on the door to try to give it a bit more of a nudge. I was a few seconds behind him so just pushed the door open and we went to our car to load our clean laundry into it. In retrospect, I saw an older white male go next door to the beer store right after we walked out of the laundromar. The beer store employee approached us as I loaded my laundry into my car and then intended to leave.

The beer store employee told me he was getting "reports that kids were kicking glass." He said kids. Plural. And what he said made me envision a bunch of grade school kids kicking around broken glass on the sidewalk or parking lot. I responded calmly that "I have one kid and he's been with me the whole time. He wasn't involved." The beer store employee wanted drama to transpire. It was obvious. He said in a threatening manner: "Just so you know, I have cameras." My son and I exchanged glances because we were confused. What kids? Kids were kicking glass. Where? What glass?

Again though, I calmly responded that my son wasn't involved and he should check his cameras. He told me he was calling the cops. So I got my three-year-old son in his car seat and set a time limit of ten minutes to wait. We weren't running when he didn't do anything. The cops of course showed up about a minute later. It's ridiculous because in our projects (different police department than the laundromat police department), there have been shootings where children were outside playing when several clips were emptied into crowds and the police station is a block away. I know people called and it took an hour for them to arrive on scene.

Long story short, the laundromat cops knew it was a bullshit call. The supposed "kicking glass" was because my son placed his foot on the door to try to open it when we were LEAVING. The police eventually informed us that was the alleged "kicking of glass." There was no kicking that happened. The door wasn't even dirtier, let alone damaged because my son tried to use his foot to open the door. Lightly, by the way.

Even though the police were kind to my son, for the next week, my usual gregarious child was terrified to go anywhere. He eventually told me it was because "the cops will chase me and take me to jail because I bad guy now."

He's over it now. Mostly.

But we still have to pick between the craziness of playing at our aforementioned projects or going to a "white playground" and risking my son being rejected. It's usually a 50/50 shot that he will be rejected. If he gets rejected, he gets very upset.

Again, these are problems we never faced on our travels down the southern eastern seaboard. We didn't get treated like this at the destinations or on the journey by car to and from the destinations.

I knew we were living in an extremely racist and rude area, but one day I found this. It's a map delineating the results of a study conducted by Google and others regarding the level of racism in different parts of the country.

I already knew this much. But it's good to know I'm right that we are in the worst part of the U.S. for racism and the kindness we received traveling to those certain southern states was no illusion. And I did ask locals before I found this map if I was right that people are kinder to all colors in whichever given area.

Not the Worst Thing That Happened But the Last Straw

People talk a lot about Karens these days. This lady looked like she jumped right out of a Karen meme. My son was two feet away from her while we waited in line and she said as obnoxiously as possible: "Can you handle this? Please get him out of MY space." Yeah, I didn't let it go. At all. Her argument was that she said "please" so it's OK to make my son feel like a "this" and not a little boy. I held him while he sobbed. Long story short, I decided right then anywhere has to be better than this.

It isn't me just knowing people are being nasty to my son and I'm upset. He understands. He had an evaluation for something and he tested very well. He cried about each of these incidents. He just wants to make people smile and make friends.

So, next month we are going for it. I'm no where close to the aforementioned goal. I have some savings. We may end up in shelters at first after savings dry up in a few weeks. But we cannot survive up here. Nor can we advance here.

Side Note

I wrote this mostly to inform others of the status quo and reality of racism and the real effects it has on one tiny boy. And I know it will just get worse if we stay since it's this bad already.

But if you anyone knows of any resources to help us get on our feet in a month in Tampa or Jacksonville (Tampa is my first choice, but either one.) I have applied for housing, even though I didn't and don't want to go back to projects; but I'd take one down there over watching my son endure so much pain any day of the week.

Ok, so final part: I'm going to say upfront I feel extremely awkward with this paragraph because this isn't my way (years before my son was born I was homeless for a stint and never sat with a sign or a cup. Just couldn't do it), but for my son, I'm going to drop my cashtag here. Everyone is struggling and I know there are people with much worse problems. I appreciate anyone who has read this far and can help spread the reality of what I wrote about. That's the reason for the article; but if help is received at all because of it, we would be grateful but it's definitely a far second most important reason for the post. Here it goes, for my baby, in case it'll change his life and give us that better foot up, here it is: $RobyndeHood

[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Man Up 4: The Donnyest Game”

Written by: Haley Mancini

Written & Storyboarded by: Alicia Chan

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

Yup, he's back.

The epic Man Up saga gets yet another episode, turning the trilogy into a tetralogy, putting it in the same category as the Shrek series. I'd argue the quality is very similar, at least in my opinion. The second one was better than the first, one of the rare sequels that was better in every way, and the third one was just horrific. It was so horrific that I didn't even want to watch the fourth one, but somebody once told me that the world was going to roll me and The Final Chapter was better than the third.

I could talk about the Shrek films all day, but I don't think that's what you came here for. Maybe I'm just trying to delay the inevitable, since the very first character we see in this episode is...

...oh boy, Donny. I was sort of hoping that Donny in the title wasn’t referring to the comic relief, as unlikely as that would be. At least they continue the cruelty streak with him that started with Total Eclipse of the Kart, as he struggles to open a jar of strawberry jam without getting it all over himself and getting covered with ants. It's not that it isn't deserved. The Powerpuff Girls, who normally help other people with jars, don't seem to want to help, though Bubbles does give this lovely advice.

Bubbles: Stop, drop, and roll, Donny!

The joke is that he's not on fire, you silly goose! Get ready, because there's a lot of jokes like this. While all of this jam related insanity is happening, a familiar face is hiding in the bushes.

Because this is a part of the Man Up tetralogy, we get the one thing that linked all of them, and the only thing that linked all of them: the villain is Manboy, a man man man man who wants to prove that he is a man man man man by doing man man man man things. The most man man man man thing in this episode is to beat up this majestic unicorn. See, it's ironic, because this majestic horned pony is getting annihilated by ants. Or, "ant-nilhilated" as Donny puts it. He's trying. Oh McCracken, he's trying.

I'm surprised they didn't leave a pause between that pun and Blossom talking about the B-plot of this episode. She doesn't want to waste any time, because they have one hour before they have to participate in the Utonium Strawberry Picking Contest.

The winner gets their photo on the fridge, along with a photo showing the "4th year strawberry champ", which happens to be Blossom! Before I can ramble on about how this show's sense of time is out of whack, I can say that the episode proves that this is not referring to Blossom being the 4th consecutive winner of the strawberry picking contest, but the winner of the 4th year this contest was held. Then again, who would have participated in the 1st? Jojo back when he was a monkey? I'm putting way too much thought into this, am I?

Donny is super intrigued by this grand prize, as if the winds of destiny were whispering "Danny". Bubbles has to slowly move her Finn-faced head in to remind him that his name is Donny, in another amazing joke for this comic relief character.

Buttercup, that rascal, tells Donny he doesn't have a good shot at being the champion of giving Sitcom Dad his sweet, sweet free strawberries, but Bubbles comes in to defend her best friend.

Bubbles: It's okay, Don-Bon! You may not be the best strawberry hunter, but you’re still my best friend!

Yeah, great pep talk, Bubbles. Yeah, Donny is terrible at absolutely everything, but at least he's Bubbles' best friend because he has a great personality he doesn't treat his old friends like dirt when he makes new ones he's a unicorn! Donny seems to take it okay, at least.

Suddenly, Blossom gets a call from the Mayor that the Blimp Shrimp is on the loose, reminding us all that the Powerpuff Girls do indeed save the world before bedtime and aren't just strawberry pickers that can fly. There really isn't much else; we don't even get to see this Blimp Shrimp; I guess we're supposed to just find rhyming funny. It's not really on the money.

Well, there is one reason: it's so Donny can do something that isn't very bright, since he can't seem to use his common sense without the girls to guide him. While he’s hunting for strawberries using his strategy of saying he will not be distracted, he sees a churro on a napkin. This napkin happens to be right next to a lasso hanging off of a tree! He can't fall for this.

(Johnny Test Whip Crack)

At least, that's what Manboy thought. Manboy is bewildered by this specimen, as not only does he not look like the unicorn in his purple guidebook, he fell for the very first trap he put up! You'd think he would know all of this, since he was clearly looking at him getting defeated by ants.

Man Boy: It says here that unicorns are incredibly powerful, are experts at camouflage, and are capable of tracking their opponents across many miles! That doesn't really sound like you!

Donny: I know! I sound more like, "Hi, my name's Donny! D-O-N-N-Y!"

I am so glad to say this is the last time he appears this season. They couldn’t even be consistent with him not knowing his name. They could have at least had him misspell it. Actually, they shouldn’t. Manboy, finding no pleasure in beating up such a weakling, offers him some training that would turn him into a commando. “A strawberry commando?”, Donny asks, and Manboy just rolls with it.

So Manboy trains his own opponent through many tasks, like jumping across cliffs, catching fish, doing pull-ups over a fire, and a few other. This training montage is played a bit too straight to be that funny, but it does have this song about how montages are only here to speed things up. No, really.

Bet you can't guess what's happening here Time is of the essence, so we'll make it clear We only got a minute for a montage song Because this episode is ten minutes long

A montage is happenin'!

I am not going to lie, it's kind of catchy, and at least it gives a scene some sort of a joke.

There is one other thing: there's a scene where Donny gets taken away by what is unmistakably a bald eagle. Later, after he starts getting the hang of being a manly unicorn, he punches that eagle right in the face without even a hit flash. I don’t even know what to say.

After his training and his somewhat justified violence against the national bird of the country this takes place in, or at least it was in the original, he ends up becoming a Rambo-like muscled hero, looking almost exactly like the picture in that purple guidebook. I always wanted to see Donny get the Musclecup treatment, said no one ever. Thanks to this training, Donny stops telling bad jokes all the time and now speaks only in gruff action hero lines. Not sure if I would consider that an improvement.

Manboy: Okay, unicorn! It's time to play the most dangerous game...and you're it!

...so he wants to play a children's playground game with him? That is the conclusion one would expect Donny to consider with that line, but how else would somebody interpret that? I think he may have forgotten a sentence.

Suddenly, Donny starts shooting horn lasers at him. He tries, for the only time in the entire episode, to use his man man man man beard powers, but they get lasered off. Much like the Reboot Puffs in certain episodes, Manboy just knows that a punch would not be able to stop him, and just runs away.

Speaking of the Reboot Puffs, we do get a peek back at the B-plot, and I really mean a peek, because there's almost nothing here. After Sitcom Dad reiterates how this strawberry picking contest's prize is that fabled picture on the fridge, Buttercup boasts that she is for sure that she'll win this time. She has a secret weapon: a dust buster. Bubbles asks if she really learned nothing from that time she used a vacuum cleaner last year.

Insert cutaway gag where Buttercup chases triple chin Ranger Smith with a vacuum cleaner. Honestly, Bubbles should have just stopped at asking if she really has learned nothing, because the answer is usually yes.

Most of this episode is just Manboy getting chased by the Muscled Hellhorn, sometimes hiding in a bush to avoid him. Donny slowly walks, yelling out to Manboy to come out, come out, where ever he is. This is the big irony; he's this big and strong manly man, and he's getting chased away by a sparkly unicorn...who is also a big and strong manly man. I think the muscles and action movie one liners really lessen this.

Buttercup shows up to suck up some strawberries with her dust buster, and she unintentionally sucks up the bush Manboy was hiding in. Hey, something that actually ties the Donny chasing after Manboy plot with the strawberry plot! Unfortunately, that's the only time the two plots really converge; Donny doesn't even seem to be interested in the strawberries in any of these scenes.

As for those strawberries, the next time we see a Powerpuff Girl is when the episode suddenly cuts to a scene where Blossom is picky about what strawberries she puts in her basket. At least that kind of fits her character, even if that seems to sabotage her plans to win. Sitcom Dad outright said the person with the most strawberries wins that coveted photo on the fridge. Honestly, that's really it for the strawberry plot until the end, and no attempt is made to connect this scene with anything else.

It's just more Donny from here on out. If there's any kind of progression, at least the training montage made him a little more competent at dodging traps. He easily dodges an arrow trap, and just walks through a fallen tree. The closest thing to an action scene in this entire episode, really. Eventually something's got to break this new character of his, and it's going to take more than a napkin with a churro on it.

Oh no, it takes a napkin with two churros to make him fall into a trap! He even reverts back to his usual voice just to yell out his love for churros. Manboy shows up that he finally bested this majestic and powerful unicorn...even though he not once tried to lay a finger on him like he said he was going to do. I guess he would take any victory at this point.

Unfortunately for Manboy, that victory doesn't last. Somehow, Donny managed to set up a trap of his own, as Manboy ends up walking backwards, stepping onto a green button, which covers him in strawberry jam. At least that strawberry jam scene from the opening has a point, as he then gets to succumb to the ants.

And not just ants, either, but he also ends up running into a beehive. It doesn't entirely reference the infamous Nicolas Cage remake of The Wicker Man, but we do get this line, which is almost as good:

Manboy: Oh my god! Bees! Bees! Gyaaah!

Okay, he says gosh, but that's not what I heard. Then he gets attacked by a shark, because random. Eventually, he does end up going into a river, which does cleanse him from the jam, the ants, the bees, and the shark. This river ends up going into a waterfall, and then goes into another waterfall. Both times, they have to point out where Manboy is with a giant yellow beeping arrow, as if the context wasn't clear enough. This scene was enjoyable, but that might be because this is the best beating Manboy ever gotten.

And now, the required "I'm so sorry I was such a doofus" scene, though we usually don't see it from a villain. Donny somehow managed to get out of the cage and run all the way down to the bottom of the twin waterfalls to confront Manboy. I honestly stopped questioning such things; maybe it's that same kind of unicorn magic that allows him to poof tickets to ice skating shows.

Donny doesn't accept this apology, and does what he wanted to do as a person who was called "It."

Donny: Tag, you're it! Now you'll have to chase me-e-e-e-e-e!

The conclusion one would expect Donny to consider with that "and you're it" line is exactly what happens. One might ask, if this was Donny's idea of playing tag, why was he trying to horn laser him? The answer, much like most other questions one could ask about this reboot, is pineapples.

Manboy, in his anger, finally decides to lunge right towards Donny to possibly fulfill his promise to beat up a unicorn. Donny moves his neck slightly to make him miss and hit a tree instead. Yeah, it wasn't as cool as when Blossom did that in the original.

In the end, they finally tie this all up with that strawberry plot I completely forgot about, since it barely shows up. Blossom has her pretty pile, Buttercup accidentally sucked up the park ranger, and Bubbles ate the strawberries she found. Since she's best friends with a character who is well established in this episode to be not too bright, Bubbles can't be too far off, you see.

Donny shows up with that tree Manboy ran into, and it turned out to be a strawberry tree. His muscular physique is suddenly gone for no reason whatsoever. Why shouldn't they just have him stay muscular at the end of the episode? The status quo never seems to bother them.

The Professor decides to give Donny that fabled photo on the fridge he always wanted, right next to a fridge magnet of a poorly drawn Texas. Yee haw. Yeah, I can't think of a better ending for this.

Does the title fit?

Sadly, yes, at least with the Donnyest Game. I guess Donny being made more "manly" does sort of continue with Man Up 3's themes, but that's as close as we get.

How does it stack up?

Out of all the Donny-focused episodes, this is the best Donny one by the virtue of having not as much to complain about. He’s not constantly whining and being an absolutely terrible analogy the writers had to deny. He’s not being a terrible friend by ditching him for a total stranger who happened to have glitter and crayons. The episode doesn’t prop him up as this incredibly important character while the characters we should be caring about are getting their butts kicked. Most importantly, it’s not Bubbs and Donny Get The Mail.

However, there really isn't much to praise, either. The strawberry plot doesn't really go anywhere beyond a cutaway gag, and this episode doesn't change my opinion on Manboy or Donny as characters. I don't hate this episode, but I didn't really want to re-watch it.

Next, another episode where a villain cowers in fear over a cutesy character. Will it be any better than this one?

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