#waking up and being blasted by neon text ...

[transmandrake]

Hot take but a light theme > a bad dark theme... when people use jet black and brightest white... it hurts... and so hard to read... need a softer grey, or a slightly darker white...

[apteryxparvus]

AITA for exposing my pro volleyball player boyfriend's monster addiction on r/fridgedetective?

Pairing — Suna Rintarou / Reader

Word count — 2,046

Content warning — none

Summary — When you accidentally expose your boyfriend for hoarding an ungodly amount of Monster energy drinks in his mini fridge, the internet takes it and runs wild.

You don’t think twice when you head to your boyfriend’s mini-fridge. Suna always keeps a stash of snacks and drinks in there for late-night movie marathons, and you’re desperately craving a fizzy hit of Ramune soda. But when you open the fridge…

Monster Energy. 

Monster Energy everywhere.

You don’t even spot the soda you’re looking for. Just rows upon rows of neon cans stacked like Tetris blocks, along with an alarming number of Chuupets squished in the corners. Who needs this much caffeine and sugar?

The fridge hums ominously, as if judging you for your surprise.

Naturally, you take a picture and post it.

For science.

You don’t expect much. Maybe 10 or 20 upvotes, and a couple of comments from bored strangers confirming that, yes, Suna’s energy drink consumption is borderline criminal. After all, it’s just a silly post on a silly subreddit, nothing to lose sleep over.

But when you groggily check your Reddit account the next morning, your notifications are wild. It’s not just a handful of upvotes—it’s thousands. Your post isn’t just trending on r/fridgedetective; it’s made the Reddit front page.

There’s an overwhelming flood of comments, many of them calling out your boyfriend by name. A part of you wants to laugh—because, really, how did they guess so fast?—but another part of you is too scared to even open Twitter or any other social media platform. You just know someone has screenshotted it and blasted it across the internet; probably with a wild caption like: “Suna Rintarou EXPOSED by his own partner”.

The sheer absurdity hits you like a train. Your boyfriend’s unhealthy obsession with energy drinks and frozen treats has gone viral. Your boyfriend has gone viral.

And, at this point, you’re not sure if you should wake him up to warn him, or just quietly pack your things and go into witness protection.

Among the chaos of Reddit notifications, your phone buzzes with a few messages. A quick glance tells you it’s from two very predictable sources.

Kita: Just empty the fridge and restock it with healthy food. He’ll grumble, but it’s for the best.

Atsumu: WOW I CAN’T BELIEVE U TATTLED ON MY BOY LIKE THAT 💀💀💀

You sigh, rubbing your temples. Against your better judgement, you open the Inarizaki High alumni group chat—and immediately regret it.

Atsumu is clearly living for this. You should’ve known better.

He’s on a rampage, flooding the chat with screenshots from Twitter.

"Suna's fridge contents have NO BUSINESS being this cursed."

"Suna Rintarou EXPOSED for his crimes against hydration."

"Monster sponsorship when???"

It’s one caption after another, each one wilder than the last. You groan, burying your face in your pillow, as if that could block out the chaos unfolding on your screen. You can practically hear Atsumu’s wheezy cackles through the text, and his twin brother, Osamu, is doing nothing to help—just spamming the chat with popcorn emojis like he’s front row at the circus.

You sigh, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you prepare to grill Atsumu for being the absolute worst at 7 AM. But before you can type a single word, the bed shifts.

Suna groans softly, stirring beside you. His arm slides over your waist, pulling you closer as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck.

“Mm, what’s with all the buzzing?” he mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Nothing,” you lie, way too quickly, throwing your phone across the bed like it’s radioactive. You lean in to press a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.”

It almost works. Almost. But your phone keeps vibrating obnoxiously—no doubt Atsumu is still spamming the group chat with screenshots and whatever unhinged commentary he’s decided to add. You curse yourself for not muting him earlier, but now it’s far too late.

Suna groans again, this time with the exasperation of someone who just wants five more minutes of peace. He shifts, reaching for the phone you so desperately tried to avoid.

“Why’s Atsumu spamming the group chat so early?” he asks groggily, his thumb already swiping across the screen.

“No reason!” you blurt out, sitting up too quickly. “You don’t need to check—”

But it’s too late. The moment Suna opens the chat, his expression shifts. His sleepy indifference hardens into something sharper. 

Betrayal.

Two days later, you’re settled into your couch, blanket wrapped snug around your shoulders, laptop propped up on your knees. Kodzuken’s stream is set to start in fifteen minutes, and if you’re going to survive whatever chaos the streamer’s chat is inevitably bound to bring, you’re going to need a heavy caffeine boost.

Your eyes slowly drift to the mini fridge in the corner.

You’ve been trying to avoid it ever since the whole incident. But you cannot deny the itch for something cold and fizzy to keep you awake. There’s a moment of hesitation as you chew on your lip, before you finally stand up and pad over.

“Okay… alright,” you mumble to yourself, hand hovering over the handle. “It’s just a fridge. How bad can it be?”

You pull it open.

And the sight nearly makes you drop to your knees.

Gone is the chaotic hoard of neon green Monster Energy cans and suspicious, almost-melted chuupets. Instead, the shelves are pristine, almost squeaky white, gleaming as if the fridge belongs to some sort of soda commercial. And every single slot has been replaced with your favorite soda flavor.

Each glass bottle has a sticky note attached to it, the handwriting unmistakably Suna’s—slightly tilted to the right and a little lazy, like he couldn’t quite be bothered but also cared just enough.

The first note you pick you reads: “I’m doing this for you, even though it hurts 💔💔.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you pick up another bottle, the condensation slick against your palm. This note reads: “Please don’t post me online again 😔💔.”

A third one in the far back reads: “I hope you’re happy. My dignity is in shambles.”

You choke back a laugh, clutching the bottle to your chest like it’s some sort of love letter.

Everything is just absurd. Dramatic. Completely unnecessary.

But so him.

Kenma’s notification pings from your laptop, reminding you his stream is starting soon. But for a moment, you just stand there, bathed in the soft glow of the fridge light, staring at the ridiculous display of Ramune bottles and heartfelt stickies.

Dinner is a quiet affair, save for the occasional clink of chopsticks against bowls and the soft fizz that Suna’s Ramune soda makes as he takes a long, dramatic sip. You can’t help but glance at him as your phone buzzes with another notification from the group chat.

The #monstersmvp hashtag Atsumu created is still going strong.

You unlock your phone, and cover your mouth trying to stifle a laugh—Atsumu’s latest spamming spree is a trainwreck you cannot look away from.

“What now?” Suna asks, voice flat as he picks at his food.

“‘tsumu keeps sending the eulogies from the hashtag. Ready to hear the best of the best?”

 “No,” your boyfriend deadpans, taking another slow, deliberate sip of the fizzy drink.

Ignoring him, you start reading anyway. “Okay, here goes,” you clear your throat, holding the phone up dramatically. “Rest in power: Gone but never forgotten. Suna’s energy drink hoard was a beacon of poor nutritional choices and excessive caffeine addiction. Taken from us far too soon by the merciless hand of justice (a.k.a. his girlfriend). May its legacy live on in vending machines and gas station coolers everywhere.”

Suna rolls his eyes, but you can see the corners of his mouth subtly twitching, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Wait, wait,” you say, scrolling further. “It wasn’t Suna’s blocks that made him a true legend. No, it was his fridge full of Monsters. The stash stood as a tall, proud monument to his dedication to caffeine and chaos, but alas, all good things must come to an end. In lieu of flowers, please send Ramune soda.”

He takes another slow sip of his soda, gaze fixed on you over the rim of the bottle. “These people are unhinged.”

“You mean your fans are unhinged,” you correct, waving your phone at him. “You brought this on yourself, you know.”

He sets the bottle down, resting his chin in his hand as he smirks at you, that lazy, infuriating smirk that makes your heart skip a beat even when you’re annoyed with him. “You’re awfully invested in this for someone who caused the whole mess.”

“Excuse me, you’re the one who kept a hoard of energy drinks like some kind of cryptid!”

“And you’re the one who made it go viral.”

Suna shakes his head, clicking his chopsticks. “If I ever get my stash back, I’m putting a padlock on that fridge.”

“Sure,” you tease, scrolling through the wall of text messages. “But you’ll have to bribe me first.”

The morning after starts with the doorbell buzzing like it’s got a personal grudge against your sleep. You groan, burrowing deeper into the blankets as Suna mumbles incoherently beside you.

“Are you gonna get that?” you ask, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Nope,” he replies, eyes still closed.

The buzzing continues, persistent and annoying, until you finally throw the blankets off with a groan. “Fine, I’ll do it. But if it’s Atsumu, I’m kicking him.”

Shuffling to the door in your pajamas, you swing it open, ready to give whoever it is a piece of your mind. Instead, you’re greeted by two delivery people dressed in head-to-toe Monster Energy attire. Hats, shirts, gloves—even their shoes have the Monster logo.

“Delivery for Suna Rintarou?” one of them says, all too chipper for this ungodly hour.

Behind them is a massive, industrial-sized fridge wrapped in black and neon green, the Monster Energy logo glowing ominously on the front.

You blink. “You’re joking.”

“We’re not,” the other delivery person says, already wheeling the monstrosity closer.

You stand frozen as they maneuver the fridge through the door, parking it in the middle of your living room like it belongs there. By the time Suna wanders out from your bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the delivery people are gone, and the fridge looms like some sort of otherworldly deity.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, voice rough with sleep.

“Your consequences, clearly,” you grumble.

“You think it comes pre-stocked?”

You stay quiet, keeping your distance from the fridge as if your glare alone might short-circuit the thing. If you got too close, you’d be tempted to whack it with something—like the baseball bat you keep by the door in case of emergencies.

Suna, unbothered by your lack of answer, wanders closer, hand lazily brushing against the neon logo before gripping the handle. He looks back at you with a smirk.

The door creaks open.

Even though the fridge isn’t even on, it’s packed to the brim with dozens upon dozens of Monster cans. Shelves sag under the weight of every imaginable flavor—there are classics, tropical blends, tea-infused hybrids, even some cans with foreign text that scream exclusive import.

“How is this fridge even stocked? It’s not on.” You can’t hold back the groan. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Look at this,” Suna says, picking up a can with a holographic label. He holds it up like it’s some kind of treasure. “I didn’t even know this flavor existed.”

“Put it back,” you say, your voice sharp. “I’m gonna set it on fire, I swear."

He doesn’t listen. Instead, he grabs another can, then another. “They’ve got the white pineapple, the tea blend... oh, and the zero-calorie peach! This is insane.”

“I’m gonna lose my mind.” You bury your face in your hands, trying to process the sheer audacity of the situation. “Who does this?!”

“There, there,” Suna teases, patting your back. “Want a sip?” he asks, cracking open a random can.

You glare at him, contemplating the consequences of slamming the door shut on both the cans and his smug face. Instead, you stomp to the couch, plopping down, and muttering, “I’m calling ‘tsumu. This has his name written all over it.”

Suna’s laughter echoes through the living room, followed by the distinct hiss of him opening yet another can.

Author's note: phew, editing the Reddit posts took ages 🤧 please ignore any discrepancies between the profile pictures of the users pls

i’ll marry whoever buys me a fully stocked redbull fridge, no questions asked

[gazedivine]

・｡ [ RANVEER SINGH . CISGENDER MAN . HE/THEY/SHE ] - ROHAN WADHWANI was blasting MOON RIVER BY ANDY WILLIAMS on the sidewalk in austin today . according to other atx residents , the THIRTY-SIX year old WEDDING PLANNER @ DILWALE has been given a reputation of being OSTENTATIOUS , but also STRATEGIC . [ REUSABLE STANLEY CUPS WITH THE PROTEIN SHAKE MIX FOR THE DAY — YOU'RE TRYING OUT A NEW PRODUCT TO MAXIMISE YOUR GAINS AND YOU'RE STILL NOT SURE IF YOU SHOULD JUST GO BACK TO THE PREVIOUS RECIPE; NEON SCRUNCHIES ON YOUR WRIST: THE ONLY WAY TO TAME YOUR LONG HAIR DOING YOUR DAILY RUNS TO ACHIEVE YOUR DAILY GOAL OF 15K STEPS A DAY; AND UNABASHED, UNRESTRAINED EARNESTNESS: INNOCENCE BORNE NOT FROM THE ABSENCE OF HURT BUT DESPITE THE ABUNDANCE OF IT. ]

NAME:  rohan  wadhwani  NICKNAME:  rohan  AGE:  thirty-six  PLACE OF BIRTH:  mumbai,  maharashtra,  india  NATIONALITY:  indian  DATE OF BIRTH:  22  oct  1987 GENDER:  cisgender man  PRONOUNS:  he/they/she  ORIENTATION:  it’s  complicated  RELIGION:  hinduism  ( shaiva )  PARENTS:  prakash  wadhwani  (  costume  designer, fashion designer  )  &  alia  wadhwani  née  advani  (  playback  singer,  composer  )  SIBLINGS:  n/a  LANGUAGES:  hindi,  english,  urdu  (  fluent  )  spanish,  french (  conversational  )  sindhi (  learning  )  EDUCATION:  bombay  scottish  school,  bennington  college  ( anthropology )  OCCUPATION:   wedding  planner  @  dilwale  HOBBIES:  scrapbooking,  travelling,  writing,  photography, running

PERSONALITY.

MBTI.  enfj-t  ENNEAGRAM.  9w1  INSTINCT.  sp/sx  TEMPERAMENT.  choleric  MORAL  ALIGNMENT.  chaotic  neutral  CHARACTER INSPO.  connor  roy,  succession  /  laenor  velaryon,  house  of  the  dragon  /  aventurine,  honkai:  star  rail  /  tartaglia,  genshin  impact

strategic,  charming,  earnest,  quick-witted.

ostentatious,  temperamental,  hypersensitive,  iconoclastic.

SNAPSHOT.

ask anyone,  and they’ll tell you mixing with rohan wadhwani is just asking for trouble.  then they’ll tell you,  all abashed,  that they don’t mean it  that way.  but if they don’t mean it that way,  then what way do they mean?  here,  the answers get all muddled up:  he’s too much,  too loud,  too in-your-face;  he’s a cheapskate who fleeces you for everything you’ve got,  but boy,  does he know how to throw a party;  he’s gonna make you comfortable and make you feel like you’ve known him for ages when you just met him an hour ago;  he cries easily,  laughs easily,  drinks easily,  goes down easily;  he’ll pull you in for a three-day bender and leave you waking up somewhere in berlin all alone with a text telling you he’s sorry,  but he’s got a deadline and he doesn’t have the time to take care of you.  he’s your friend,  but he’s not;  he wants to be,  but he doesn’t allow himself to be  —  not that,  of course,  anybody knows that last bit.

BIOGRAPHY.

tl;dr if  you’re  raised  with  an  angry  man  in  your  house,  there  will  always  be  an  angry  man  in  your  house.  you  will  find  him  even  when  he  is  not  there.

aka  connor  roy  as  an  only  child

cw  for  unhealthy  family  dynamics,  suicidal  ideation

in your memories,  looking back,  there’s always a boy:  exuberance incarnate,  all youthful passion,  maybe good-looking  —  or maybe not  —  but all heart.  the boy laughs freely,  cries freely,  wears his heart on his sleeve and will suffer for it,  will end up being carved from the inside out,  will end up as hollow meatsuit of flesh:  a curse,  perhaps,  or a gift…  or perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself.

since you’re getting ahead of yourself,  it must be now acknowledged:  the boy is you.  you do not like to think it,  like to think instead that the boy is dead and gone.  the boy is a metaphor,  you tell yourself,  is something literary and spectral and fake.  the boy is something performative:  you learned the word when you were coming out of your chrysalis stage  —  you like to think yourself as having a chrysalis stage  —  and into your own.  

you had been many things.  you could have been many things.  there had been a writer inside of you,  but his words had dried up;  a movie star haunted your future,  but you could not let another’s story course through you when you were still figuring out your own;  a painter did not know what to paint;  a photographer did not know what to capture.  this,  your perennial failing:  you knew what you wanted out of life;  this,  your gift to yourself:  you knew that you didn't have the stomach for it.

your papa tells you to make something out of your life and you understand what he means;  your ma tells you that your papa doesn’t mean it like that,  but you’ve read this story before and you know how it ends.  or you don’t.  you kid yourself into thinking you know how it ends.  in your memories,  there’s a boy haunted by another boy and he’s telling you a story you’ve convinced yourself you’ve forgotten the words of;  narratives like  once when i grow up,  i’ll be far away  but also  when i’m dead,  they’ll say this at my funeral.

you thought about death a lot.  this is not to be morbid;  this is to be selfish:  you imagined your death and imagined people crying sobbing despairing saying  he was gone too soon  and you felt a sick pleasure at the image. they’ll be sorry,  you thought  —  but what do they have to be sorry for?  poor little rich boy,  given everything he ever wanted:  your tragedy is something you once whispered to yourself when you went to sleep and thought about never waking.  they’ll be sorry,  you thought  —  and never once thought  i’ll be sorry.

your coworkers tell you  be serious  and you tell them  i am wild.  not even your own words,  but that of another:  you’re trying to be something you can’t be  —  original,  expressive  —  and everything else is collateral damage.  you tell your clients that you’ll make their events  the greatest story ever told,  and you mean it but you don’t.  there are no more great events;  nothing ever happens.  history is a storybook that’s being narrated from the other room,  but this room is nothing,  and you’re nobody.  you make plans.  you craft scenes.  you manufacture happiness and sell dreams.  that’s what you do.  that’s what you are.  the purpose of a system is what it does,  and you’re just a cog in the machine.  

but  —  and this is so important that you dare not even think it,  not even during the nights when you’re alone and you feel the rest of your life yawn in front of you like the valley of death  —  in your memories,  there once was a boy.  he’s still there.  you like to pretend he’s not.  if you listen very,  very carefully,  you think you can hear the echo of his cries through the thrumming of your pulse.  you wake up the next morning with bags under your eyes.  you’ve learnt to be great with make-up over the years,  you and your mother:  memories bleed into the present,  and you know how this story ends,  but you don’t.  you caught a flight to somewhere halfway over the world,  and places change,  but you’re still you.

(  a truth realised when your nights turned into mornings,  your body clock still all messed up despite the passing of the years,  or maybe not your body clock,  but something else,  something more instinctual:  you can never escape yourself.  )

in your memories,  looking back,  there once was a boy who thought that if he could just play the role for long enough,  he might end up convincing even himself.

are you?

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

clients.  people he’s planned  /  coordinated events for;  mostly weddings,  but dilwale’s branched out into other kinds of celebrations in the recent past

party buddies.  he probably bailed out on your muse more than once,  but just when you think you’re sick of him,  they pull you back in;  will never be the designated driver,  has never nursed your muse’s hangover,  but they always know where the hot things are happening

gym buddies.  shockingly dependable,  which is a surprise  —  never skips leg day ever,  but never makes your muse push themself too far either

travel buddies.  sometimes the events he coordinates are destination weddings,  and he’s more than happy to have your muse tag along with them;  outside of their job,  they also literally just travel a lot:  however,  think backpacker grizzly nature safari wildlife reserve kinda beat instead of anything chic and luxurious

a fun time.  rohan’s always down for a fun time with no strings attached,  and they actually like having That™ kind of reputation so they’re always more than down for some foolin’ around

it’s complicated.  someone they actually talked, like.  Real Deep Shit with only to get embarrassed about it afterwards.  they’re not actively trying to avoid your muse,  but the dynamic hasn’t been the same since that moment.

frequent coordinators.  one doesn’t become the premier choice for planning weddings without dependable business relationships:  rohan’s established a trusty partnership with your muse and they’ve made a lot of money together through their partnership!

[boneswriteswords]

Just A Little Longer - Michelangelo

A/N: Here is my self indulgent Mikey goodtime lime. Let me live. (It isn’t a lime. Its a lemon. But lime rhymes with time.)

Unbeta’d because no one has the time for editing.

Also I have no idea if any of it makes sense so.....

~~~~~~

The bright neon LED lights of the alarm clock on your nightstand stood guard over you as you blinked awake. 2:04am. Awareness came slowly, your eyes dripping sleep even as the rest of you came online. You shifted, extending your body into a stretch, grinning when a muffled groan erupted from behind you.

A thick leg forced its way between yours. A heavy arm landed across your abdomen. A hard chest molded into your back.

Beyond your apartment walls, sounds of the city rage on. Waves of muted color trickle through the crack in your black-out curtains. Lines of yellow light bleed over the room. There are police sirens passing by as the house party three doors down blasts the newest Ariana Grande album. Someone honks their car horn in vicious repetition. If you strain, you can hear an muffled fighting and the shuffling of clothes as it turns physical.

All the noises harmonize and fade into nothing as you flip over, encouraging the limbs of your bed partner to stay entangled with yours. You’ve lived in the city long enough that the noises and the people and the lights don’t register much to you unless you focus on them. You know the sounds of danger from the sounds of the loud and that’s all you really need to know. Rainbow noise guided you, filtering through all the memories that you have access to you, and anything less has no space in your life.

Quiet nights are eerie after years of noise and you are more than happy having Mikey hold you in bed while the world keeps going around you.

REM does not return after closing your eyes again and you concede to being awake. It isn’t awful, not with the way Mikey clutches onto you as he shuffles - head nuzzling into whatever crevice he can reach. You can tell he is waking.

He can never remain asleep if he feels you are awake. He struggles to remain in a plan of existence where you aren’t. He fights himself awake and you never know if you need to be concerned or flattered by it.

You watch the lights as they bounce off objects in your room before looking back at him. Blurry lines. Soft shapes. Calming motions as they dance back and forth. They are beautiful but you’d much rather look at Mikey.

He has an arm curled loosely over your side while the other is resting under the pillow you both were using. You both liked long thick pillows that went from one side of the bed to the other. A small commonality made sweeter by your domesticity. His hand is curled limply and you remember that he had been stroking your head when you had fallen asleep earlier.

The muted light makes his green skin lighter. Shadows dip into the crevices of his skin and scars, revealing texture you usually only can feel. There is a darkness under his jaw and around his eyebrow ridge. You find yourself tracing the lines of shadow and light with your eyes, hurling the idea that anything could be more captivating out of the window. His breath is steady but his eyes are twitching behind his eyelids.

You see his eyes open. Three blinks and he is awake. You are jealous of how easy it is for him to go from one state of being to the next. He falls asleep quickly and he awakens even quicker. Deep blue eyes find yours and he smiles, moving his arm to drag you the tiniest bit closer. His lips twitch as he draws slow circles in the space between your shoulder blades.

There is an ache in your body, a reminder of the way he had rushed into your apartment as soon as the sun was down. The impact into the wall. Manic energy. Breathless laughter as pent-up passion bubbled over.

Your fingers trace down the side of his face, dipping down from the line of his throat to the pools of his collarbones below his plastron. He churrs the tiniest bit in response and it sounds a lot like the noise he makes when you tease the skin of his neck between your teeth.

You can’t leave marks on him. His skin just doesn’t color the ways a human’s might. Its thicker. Denser. Darker. Scalier. You can’t leave scratches either. It was a bit disappointing to find this out but knowing that he’d enjoy your marks if he was able to have them seizes you in ways you have never experienced. You imagine lining little rouge starbursts down his next and across the broadness of his shoulders and the way he would walk around with them proudly. Red lines connecting red flowers like vines.

His eyes scan over you. He is visual.

Its not always like this. You and him alone. Some nights its you and Mikey and the ghosts that follow you both. There are eyes in the shadows and they have many names and you never know who you are speaking to. They lurk while he cleans his weapons in the living room. They boldly take a seat next to you while you watch a movie tucked under his arm. Some nights, you pull up a seat at the table and serve them as Mikey makes a joke about something that happened during your day.

They exist and they try to make their home in your spaces and they take a toll on the nights when you are too weary to kick them out. A mix-match of traumas that spiral and float and smother and linger.

Mikey doesn’t just wear his heart on his sleeve. He rips open his chest and holds the organ up into the light directly. Makes you watch as it beats and pulses and moves his lifeblood through his body. There are no questions about what he does, how he feels. He is on display by choice, flitting about vulnerable as if there are no monsters in the world he lives in.

But there are days where he wraps himself up behind a glass wall to separate himself from the rest of the world. Deep-rooted hopelessness drains his light, his strength a house of cards edging towards collapse. His voice cracks and wavers. Its never his fault. No one asks for trauma. No one asks to be too late. No one asks for the life he’s lived.

Only recently has a door appeared in the glass. He always tells you where the key is so you can open it. You make sure to crack open the door and wait for him to invite you in further. If he does, you sit inside with him. If he doesn’t, you sit outside and wait for the wall to come down.

And then there are the days where you are translucent. You look down at your body and see through it, faintly incorporeal. A ghost. Light bleeds through you as you walk under the sun. Intangible and lost. You don’t feel real even as your ribs ache and the steady stream of your heartbeat remains. All that exists is quiet breathing.

All your worst nightmares are of you reaching out to hold Mikey’s hand but it goes through him. You can’t grip onto him and he walks away because he can’t see you.

Mikey tells you that he sees you. He grips your hand and squeezes and pulls you in close on the off chance that you feel like your floating away. He won’t let you but he doesn’t begrudge your fear. No one asks for the life you’ve lived.

Jeers erupt from outside but neither of you flinch. You just lean closer into each other. Mikey runs his hand up and down your spine, eyes wet, and you are astounded once more how stubbornly he loves you. How intensely he feels for you. How he believes so much that you both are it. The endgame.

You wish you could take the shadows that live behind his eyes and demand they leave. “You can’t have him,” you imagine you’d say, “He is mine. And I’m not scared of you. I love him too much.” If that meant pulling a seat up for them in the living room and offering them a whiskey laced with intention, you’d do it.

Mikey’s hand slips under your night shirt, his palm flat against the skin of your back and you melt against him. You have studied those hands and all the ways they make you feel things and you exhale harshly and slowly so as to not disturb the rays of muted light.

“You doing okay?” Mikey asks, voice dripping with drowsiness despite the awareness present in his baby blues. “Its late. Or early. Whatever. Was it a nightmare?”

“No baby,” you respond, pressing your mouth against his beak, “No nightmares tonight.”

“Good.”

You press another kiss to his beak before ducking down a little and pressing another one to the side of his mouth. The arm under the blanket shifts. His fingers stroke your head.

There is a lull.

“I love you.”

Its comes out unexpectedly but you aren’t ashamed of it. He already knows. That relationship milestone has long since passed. Even so, the words are splintered, cracked around the edges and easy to be drowned out by the sounds of screeching tires on the road and idiots on the street.

But the impact is till the same. The look he gives you is blue fire and he guides you closer for a kiss. It starts off light, gentle, a nudge against your mouth but his fingers cradled the back of your head as he deepens it. “Love you too. So much” is mumbled as he presses further into you.

Arousal simmers on the back-burner as an afterthought. You had fucked hard earlier - a frenzy, a reconnection after a week of only facetime calls and voice memos that left you worked up and over. You know you will fuck again when the sun is up because Mikey loves starting the days off right when you are both in the same place.

Right now is the time to relearn the shape of his mouth as he kisses you lazily. You pull back slowly. You stare at him and he stares at you, movements slow.  

A beat.

Two.

Three.

“You remember the talks we had?” you whisper before you could stop, brushing your nose over his, “when we had just met? The ones that lasted days at time?”

“Yeah,” he responds, his voice low, “That was a long time ago but I do. I don’t think I could ever forget.” There are flashes of light behind his eyes and you know he remembers each call. Each text thread that was either memes or philosophical questions that had you trying to unearth the truth of the universe. Each conversation that spanned days because real life creates lulls between responses.

“I fell in love with you there,” you whisper back, “Somewhere in those calls, I turned over to look into the phone and realized that you were mine and there would never be anyone else for me.”

“Yeah?” its a soft question that, from the look on his face, doesn’t require an answer, “You too?” You nod anyway. He deserves to see it.

He grins.

“I’m glad that we took our time,” you continue, wiggling as his hand scratches at your back the tiniest bit, “I like that we are friends. I like that I can say “Mikey is my best friend” when they ask me about my boyfriend. I’m glad that I got the chance to like you.”

“I like you too angel,” he whispers, his voice getting softer, warmth bleeding in the spaces between words. Heat singes around his eyes, “I like you so much.”

You hold him tighter, “no one knows my soul like you do.”

Mikey surges forward to kiss you again, his hand running down from your back to the side of your thigh. He rolls you both so he is half on top of you, maneuvering a thigh between your legs and pressing your chests touch as he slips his tongue between your waiting lips. You arms reach up to rest along the broadness of his shoulders, fingers dancing along the lip of his shell.

When he pulls back, his breathing is harsh, “you know mine angel.”

There is a sense of peace with knowing that all your exposed parts are being kept safe. The storms pass. Smoke is cleared. Petrichor sweetens the air. The dead are laid to rest so flowers can grow on their remains. The sun is bright.

Between you, pleasure kindles slowly. Hands roam and tug and cup. Kisses are scattered like constellations. There are murmurs of praise and whispers of awe. Time blurs as you sink down into it.

Mikey brushes his lips along the side of your face as he glances as the clock, the sun peeking its head above the skyline from the window, “Do you want me now?”

“Now.” You punctuate the word with a roll of your hips against his thigh. “I want to feel you.”

He sighs under his breath, hands shifting you until you are where he wants you. Your night clothes are removed and dropped by the side of your bed. His shorts follow, landing right on top of yours. He nestles firmly between your open thighs. “Okay angel. You can have me. You can have everything.”

The vulnerability in his voice shakes you. The slide of his cock into you has you gripping onto him. He draws it out, indulgent in the way you stutter and writhe against him. Its a seamless fit, despite his size. You are still prepped from earlier, wet and accommodating, and he drips like a faucet.

Mikey had never known sex could be like this. He always expected that sex would be purely physically, a thing that couples did to feel good and sate any hormonal urges. No one ever told him about how it feels when hands grip onto him, leaving trails of sparks and comets and tingles across his body that linger for days. No one ever told him that his lovers moans could vibrate along his vertebrate and resonate in the parts of his unknown. The void in his chest fills with liquid gold when he hears his named sobbed against his skin.

You hadn’t known either.

And even though you both do now, even though you crave each other more fiercely than you crave air, it always feels new when you collide. Every sensation has been redefined. Vulnerability has never felt so powerful.

You cry as you feel his cock pulse inside of you as he bottoms out and grinds forward. He grunts, his arms keeping your hips flush against his.

“How do you always feel so good?” Words emphasized with deep thrusts. Hard, slow, tapering into a grind before pulling back out. ”Always so good for me. Meant for me. Made for me to love. Made to take me.”

“Yes,” you hiss back, breath hot against his neck. Mikey adjusts, one of his hands remaining on your hip while the other slides to grip your arms behind your back. He presses you flush against his plastron, back arched off the bed and supported by the strength in his arms as he holds you. “Meant for you. And you found me.”

The casual, effortless show of strength spreads a warm haziness across your mind. You lean into it.

“Fuck - Mi...I-” There are tears in your eyes as you gasp and shudder as Mikey picks up the pace. Without warning, your mouth is covered by his and you can feel his smile against yours. A laugh bubbles up from somewhere and tapers off as the kiss turns hungry.

“Shh I have you,” he gasps between his own pleasured noises, “I have you. You are safe here. What do you need?” His hand strokes along your face as he rocks into you. His voice is breathless but full of intent. “Tell me what you want.”

“Everything,” you babble as he grind right up against your good spot, “I want everything with you.”

He groans, breathing deep as the colors blur into shapes. He tucks his arm back under you, grinding harder, your clit catching along the hardness of his plastron. Your legs tremble around his hips. Mikey kisses you again before he ducks down to your neck and shoulder, his mouth hungry and burning. Ravenous.

Something about romance ignites a wildfire inside of Mikey. You exploit it as often as you can and he lets you because you both know that nothing is said without intent, without meaning. Honesty burns under your skin and shines through your eyes every time you press words of love into his skin like galaxies in a telescope. He basks in the attention. He worships under it.

In return, Mikey spills filth into your ears. The kind that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is but god does he know what you need to hear.

(”You feel perfect, hot and tight.”/ “I’m yours.”/ “I can feel you. You are real.”/ “I know, angel, I know. You’ve been wanting me so much. You need me. I need you too.”/ “I’m going to show you I love you. You’ll never doubt it. You’ll never doubt that I love you.”/ “Angel I’m not scared of your ghosts. They are scared of me.”/)

Mikey’s voice is serrated in ways no one but you have heard. Raw and carnal and deeper than most would expect, flashing dark around the edges the more passionate he gets, the more he reaches down inside of you to pull out the parts of you only he sees. 

You fall apart from the inside and can do nothing as the bottom drops out. You aren’t scared, not with the way Mikey holds you and chases away anything that could ruin this. His “I loves yous” bleed into your skin and you take hold of his pain and strangle it. There is no room for the grief and emptiness as violent tremors rack your bodies and hands cradle exposed hearts. The lights flash and dance as the decrescendo halts everything around you.

Heavy breathing fill the room. Whispered praise is soft and there is shuffling. You wipe each other down as best you can with the wet wipes you keep by the bed before pulling each other closer. The morning light is higher, peeking between the blinds and under the edges of the curtains. 

Eventually you’ll get out of bed. Clean up properly. Make food and spend time together with your clothes on. Relax in the knowledge that the day is a good one with no dark figures hanging in the corners, waiting to come in. But, thats for later.

For now, you lay close, breathing each other in. Hands are still roaming. No one has faded and there is no cold glass protecting warm skin. Mikey murmurs something and you smile. Your smile meets his smile and laughter joins in, glimmering in the light. You peck at his mouth and his fingers dig into the skin of your flesh before he grabs the comforter and hides you both underneath it.

Everything can wait. Just for a little longer. 

~~~~~

[infinites-chaser]

all the lights that lead us there (are blinding)

| mlqc | shaw |

vague spoilers for ch.20+ content

he can't stay still. not really. his mind's always crackling with something some staticky noise that won't ever go— he tries to ignore it, lose himself in his music, his graffiti, his boarding, the play of electricity across his fingers late at night.

It starts like this: he's on the 330 bus at a hellishly early hour, listening to oasis's wonderwall (though he'll never admit it), the volume on his mp3 player turned up as loud as it can possibly go. just him, liam gallagher crooning in his ears, skateboard under his arm, the bass and drums thrumming through his veins like thunder.

correction: it's just him, the quaking wheels of the bus, and the girl who just got on— she's petite, delicate-looking, the kind of person he guesses is into pastels and flowers and gives people like him judgemental stares when they don't think he's looking. but when he stares at her, she stares back and for a second, it almost looks like the world could begin or end in her wide brown eyes. and maybe he wants it to.

(somehow, she seems familiar.)

he looks away first. static crackles around maybe you're gonna be the one who saves me.

and it's stupid but— 

he's on the same bus every day. maybe he looks for her whenever he gets on. maybe he never sees her.

he cycles through the rest of what's the story morning glory. stops listening to oasis. vows to go back to something his bandmates wouldn't laugh at him for.

he's waiting for the bus again, same route, same time, same driver, blasting green day as loud as it'll go.

he closes his eyes. leans his head back against the sun-flecked window, cradles his skateboard close.

the bus rattles, coughs exhaust, then jerks to a stop. the doors woosh open, woosh shut.

footsteps tap light on the linoleum floor, come to a stop close to him. he doesn't move. then static fizzles and pops loud in his ears, billie joe armstrong's voice stutters, jarring, discordant, wrong

he opens his eyes, and it's her.

her and her wide eyes.

the bus jolts, his skateboard slides, and he catches it before too much damage can be done, but she levels that stare at him, bleeding-hearted dreamer's stare, looking like she wants to save the world, bring all the sinners to justice, his skateboard too, and for a moment he forgets himself.

he makes it rain for her.

gives her the umbrella on a whim.

maybe he wants her to save the world,

maybe he wants her she to save him,

he thinks she could. he thinks she will.

she does.

only, she's as self-sacrificing as he's selfish: didn't think you were a saint, he thinks to himself, the world ending, starting anew around him, time loops bending, universes shifting, floating in and out of focus.

he closes his eyes against every universe's, every timeline's final scene: her body limp as a rag doll's, her blood spreading dark and heavy across the war torn warehouse floor.

didn't think you were a hero, either.

the world's wrong, after. he thinks (stupidly, irrationally, immature, caring in a way he hasn't been in a long, long time) that he should've done more— all he's done is give her an umbrella. for rain and a storm he'd caused. it should've been him, at the end of it all.

though in a world where he's certain he's the only one who remembers her, he isn't really sure if she remembers him.

she doesn’t quite. then she does.

didn't think you looked a hero, he says, one late night over STF documents. her hands stiffen around her pen, her eyes narrow, glitter hard and bright to match it.

what do I look like, then, she asks, voice too-soft, too-calm

he falters. they have a balance, normally. he pushes. she pushes back. this time, he knows: he's gone too far.

what do I look like, she repeats, and her voice is still hard, her eyes still glittering, but there's an undercurrent to the ice, something thinning it, making her hardness fragile,

a savior, he says, near instinctively, and pretends not to notice when she nods, looks back down at her pen, and a tear slides down her cheek, splatters dark against the paper's white.

they come together, in fits and starts:

a warning text she ignores.

an insult. then another.

then, slowly, finally. an uneasy partnership.

it starts like this:

he takes her hand, pulls her onto the stage with him. it's hard to tell with the club's flickering lights. but he thinks she's blushing. it's cute. he's not afraid to admit it. he tries to tell her as much, but it's lost between the pounding of the speakers and the roar of the crowd. he settles for another devil-may-care smile.

what's your favorite song?

what?

I said, your favorite song!

you told me you'd tell me information. important information! that's why I came!

your favorite song, he repeats for a third time, even louder. maybe it'd be annoying if it were anyone else, but he'll say it again: she's cute with that pout. 

then, hastily, as her pout deepens:

it's important information! in exchange, you'll learn how good my band is.

she snorts.

play anything, she says, and he finds his fingers straying over the strings of his bass to pluck out the opening notes of wonderwall. he doesn't dare look up to watch her expression 'til the chorus hits.

she sings along.

she looks happy. wistful happy. and maybe her smile's a little sad, and there's a glisten in her eyes when they lift to meet his, but the smile's for him, the way her gaze lingers is proof, and he'll take any smile he can get from her, no matter how sad.

oasis, huh, he says after. I knew it. your taste in music sucks.

she scoffs and reaches a hand up to knuckle his sweaty forehead, hard. he lets her. he'll take this, too.

later, he stretches a hand out, catches a raindrop, surveys it, then shrugs, half to himself. sure, it's cool to roll up to people like yeah I can cause storms (not to mention it's a hell of a handy evol in a fight) but maybe he's being stupid because when he sees her sad smile he wishes his evol could clear the clouds and bring her sunshine back instead.

he does the next best thing: he teases her. and maybe it makes her huff and pout more times than not, but it makes him happier which is really half the battle. and he's sure that behind some of those scoffs are smiles.

between their trading of barbs (always dry, quippy, light, never meant to hurt) she just goes quiet. he doesn't like quiet. he's not used to it, and from the look in her eyes when she gets that way, he can tell she doesn't like it either.

you can talk about it, you know, he says one time, and she freezes, blank stare instantly shifting to a deer-in-headlights look, then annoyance. 

talk about what?

(atta girl, he thinks. sure it's defensive, but nothing scares him more than when she's just— nothing. lifeless. trapped in the past of a time worlds away.)

he scoffs. 

your terrible taste in music? i meant— before

(and they both know what 'before' is without him having to say it aloud, saying it feels like it'd make it all the more real, it'd be wrong)

her eyes are wide again.

before? she says, and he feels it stretching between them, that distance, the void, the reminder that she and him, they don't have a before, only a now, maybe an after.

we need to talk about your taste in music, too, though. urgently, he adds quickly, musters a grin. waits for the scoff, the eye roll to come.

it doesn't. instead, she reaches up to ruffle his hair with a cheeky smile before he can react.

you're a good boy, after all, aren't you, hm?

he scowls. he goes to grab her hand, wind her fingers through his, but realizes what he's about to do seconds before his fingers brush hers— he changes trajectory, attends to his mussed hair. (there's an art to the rebel hairdo. clearly she doesn't know it.)

and he would retort, but she's still looking at him, and her smile's gone all soft, not in a sad way, but in a way that just. does things to his heart,

so when she says 'thank you,' all he can say back is 'you're welcome,' and if he sounds more sincere than he's ever before, she doesn't notice, but he is.

he's not sure when their relationship—  reluctant alliance, friendship, more shifts, but it does, it evolves, it jumps— two steps forward, sparks fly, and they're back in the same place as before. same, he says, as if lightning could ever strike the same spot twice (he knows it does, he's not stupid, not like she is, eyes so bleeding heart wide they could swallow the world in her idealism, her kindness, they could and they will, after all, they've already swallowed him, remade him whole).

his days are filled with her, his nights, too. all the restless hours the clock strikes and neither of them wants to be alone,

bus rides at strange hours and electric eye contact across a crowded club after dark (he's tuning his guitar, about to take the stage, she's sitting alone at the end of the bar, two shots away from drunk) neon lights and drive-throughs before the dawn for hangover fast food, a tired employee's voice crackling through the speaker as he tries to give the order of the whole minivan— most nights it's him and the rest of his band, but once it's just him and her, sunrise after a sleepless night at the top of an empty parking garage, he gives her a can of spray paint and pretends to drive away while she runs after the banged-up van and tries to tag him, the studio and snacks and out-of-character honesty after waking up from nightmares

(it catches him by surprise, even as her brows curve up in surprise, too. the you can stay as long as you want, even though what he means is you can stay forever.)

she's sprawled clumsy across the faded cushions of his couch, halfway to dreamland, when he catches himself reaching to brush the hair from her eyes, thumb tracing tender over the edge of her cheek.

she murmurs something under his touch, soft, indistinct, and his heart's responding murmurs give his voice to a near-unconscious reply,

maybe, he whispers, you're gonna be the one who saves me,

he's about to leave her be when her finger catches round his pinky, holds his hand close,

save me? you already have, she says, 

shut up, he says back, you're drunk.

her eyes blink open, spark bright when they lift to meet his and he's falling, he's already gone, about to make another mistake to add to the many or the one right choice in his life

not drunk, she mutters, and her eyes shutter closed.

he swallows.

I know, he replies. her brow furrows.

he waits a second, a second longer, but her eyes stay closed this time. her breathing evens in the silence. the worry smooths out from between her eyes. she looks peaceful for once,

for once, he could almost imagine her happy. imagine them happy. the thought gives him courage again, to linger at her side. to lean in. to press his lips to the back of her hand.

makes it a promise, an oath sworn by someone who'd never once wanted to be loyal to anyone but himself,

someone who'd decided that there's someone he's willing to follow.

someone he wants to have. to hold.

(all the world's adventures and he wants to be hers.)

[evanpeaters]

pegleg and lobster boy → 07.19

TIME FRAME: Friday 19th, July. LOCATIONS: World on Wheels, A&E, Los Angeles. DESCRIPTION: Evan and Madelaine decide to go to a disco roller rink, fully dressed up in 80′s gear, but things don’t go to plan.

@madelame-x

Madelaine: The redhead was sad she had to miss the wedding, she really wished she could’ve made it, but she had a commitment to the show and in the end, if someone had to miss it to go to the Convention, Lili was much closer to Saoirse, she’s gladly take the bullet to have her friends go and enjoy themselves while she stuck it out through all the panels. Madelaine loved conventions, she loved getting together with fans, filming content with them and just spending some time there before she either drove back home or retreated herself to the hotel room. Tonight though, it’d be a different kind of Friday night. God even knew how, but one way or the other, she’d flirted enough to get a date with Evan Peters. She’d gone back to LA for the night, figuring she’d wake up early on Sunday and drive to San Diego, so after getting ready in her best 80’s look, she was waiting for him while she munched on some cashew nuts and watched something random on the TV

Evan: Being a free, unemployed man had it’s ups and downs. For the most part, he was incredulously bored and rewatching seasons of shows that he’d never though he’d get to revisit in his life. While on the other hand, it kept him available for when random plans like going to a roller disco with Madelaine Petsch sprung up. He had no idea where he’d plucked the idea out of, only that he knew he needed to make it interesting to warrant the two hour drive for her the next morning. They’d found the perfect one in LA where the aesthetic was heavily based on the 80’s and of course, he was going to take full advantage of that - he was missing out on the 80’s season of AHS, so he’d damn well make up for it now by wearing short-shorts, an old windbreaker jacket and sports socks pulled up. Obviously that came with getting some odd looks as he strolled through the entrance of her housing complex, but he didn’t have it in him to feel any embarrassment. Pulling out his phone, Evan dropped her a text. ‘I’m here now. You better have matched my effort with your outfit, or I’m going to be sending you right back in’.

Madelaine: With her hair all done up to make it as fluffy as possible, a short neon pink short shorts and a crop top with heart shaped sunglasses, Madelaine picked up her tiny backpack and headed downstairs. She got the weirdest looks, but as soon as she laid eyes on Evan, she was pretty sure she wasn’t gonna be the only one turning heads around “All of a sudden, I feel like I’m in a movie” Madelaine said with a laugh as she reached out to greet him with a hug. “You ready for this? I’m putting a disclaimer out there, I’m incredibly clumsy so I’m sorry if I fall on you several times”

Evan: It was easy to spot Madelaine as she emerged, standing out from the others not only due to her outfit, but the way she carried herself. Embracing her back, Evan’s eyes gave her a once over and beamed in approval. “I couldn’t have even imagined you looking any more awesome” He stated in approval, wishing he’d also gone for the headband that he had dismissed as too much. “Is that a warning or a promise? Because I reckon I’ll be just as awful. I’ve never been able to master skateboarding no matter how hard I’ve tried, so I’ll be right down on my ass with you.” Keen to get moving, the actor led the female to the parking lot and clambered into his Landrover, immediately dialing the volume down as he had been blasting some Def Leppard on his way there - a far cry from the disco music they’d soon be surrounded by. The GPS was already programmed into finding the roller rink, and soon enough they were on their way. “You wanna be DJ? Cable’s right here..”

Madelaine: High top All Stars being rocked, she’d never felt more stupid but at the same time, more confident, which really gave her a good feeling about the night. “Thanks, I tried my best with whatever vintage shops had around LA but I’m proud of my look. You don’t look too shabby yourself” She said with a big smile. Walking side by side, Madelaine turned to Evan when he spoke back, laughing a little bit “Oh, well then, let’s just extend a blanket forgiveness for whoever injures the other, sounds good?” She teased. She scaled the step into the Land Rover and sat down, buckling up. “What is that… Give me that!” She pretended to be offended when he started blasting the music. Grabbing the cable, she opened up Spotify into the “All about the 80’s” playlist, Ah-Ha’s ‘Take on Me’ coming in full blast. She started dancing on her seat and chuckling “This is more like it!”

Evan: Now they were both fully warned on how potentially bad each other were going to be at the rink, Evan felt suddenly more reassured. It would’ve been just his luck to suggest something that the other person kicked ass at, while he was left behind, wobbling around. An unapologetic smile was shot over to Madelaine as she protested to his music taste, and he would’ve inflicted more on her just for kicks if he didn’t also have a mutual appreciation for the song she had put on. Wiggling in his seat, Evan tried his best to match her enthusiasm, though driving in LA was admittedly a huge ball ache. Settling on singing along to the playlist instead, Evan only got more and more into it with each surprising new song that came on next. By the time that they were pulling up to a traffic light, 'Hungry Like The Wolf’ was on, and in the car next to them sat a very conventional looking family, the parents looking bewildered and kids bemused as Evan rolled down his window and treated them to the 80’s throwback show.

Madelaine: With her eyes deep into her phone, Madelaine tried to make up a perfect queue with all the fantastic tunes that would match up to their 80’s fantasy. Having spent much of her lifetime stuck in LA traffic, the redhead had lost that habit though ever since she started working in Vancouver for 10 months out of the year. She tried not to get impatient and roll around with the music, stealing random glances from her skating partner, his windbreaker and the genuine smile on his face as he sang along were pulling the most of her attention. Laughing when he rolled the window down, the actress leaned forward and joined the serenade to the family SUV on the other side before the light turned back to green and they had to pull away from their stopping point. The looks on the kids were slightly lost and amused, but the parents were horrified. “How scarred do you think we left those parents?” She joked at him.

Evan: An entertaining car journey partner was always appreciated, so Evan couldn’t have been more thankful for the redhead joining in on their serenade rather than simply rolling her eyes. With one eye on the traffic lights, Evan floored it as soon as they turned back to green, leaving the SUV in their perplexed wake. “I feel like we just took them on a journey back in time to a time their minds forgot because they spent half of it on an acid trip. They’ll have good sex tonight. We did them a favor”. Doing that thing again where his mind drew completely random conclusions and his mouth brought them to life, Evan saw nothing presumptuous at all with his statement, and spent the rest of the journey going back to their vehicle disco. Within another ten minutes, they were pulling into the parking lot, and the male was pleasantly surprised to find it almost full. He’d kind of assumed that roller discos were something time had forgotten, but the beauty of nostalgia and wanting to experience a time you hadn’t fully got to live in clearly kept some customers 'rolling’ in.

Madelaine: Madelaine was about to talk into the beginning of his statement, but she was surprised when he kept on going and drew a full conclusion to the end, making her chuckle and shrug her shoulders a little bit “Maybe they fell in love in an acid trip, maybe they’ll try to re-live it tonight, we may have turned their marriage back into what they felt when they got hitched… We did good, buddy” She said with a small nod and a smile, giving him a clap on the shoulder and a chuckle escaped her throat as she did. The remainder of the drive was spent humming to the music and occasionally rocking out to banging tunes, but when they made it there, Madelaine was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the people were looked out like them “Well this is a party if I’ve ever seen one… Come on, let’s go” She said with a bright smile, all but jumping out of the truck and walking inside with him. Stepping inside the place, she felt a loud booming of the music, turning to look at Evan with a bright smile.

Evan: At least he wasn’t alone in his thought process, it sounded like Madelaine got exactly where he was coming from, and Evan nodded along in agreement. The rink certainly didn’t disappoint as they stepped inside it, the vibe was infectious, and he immediately felt as if they’d made the right call. “Alriiiight.” He exclaimed, excitedly, making a beeline over to the skate rental and trading in his size 10’s. “Aren’t you glad this is the way you’ve chosen to start your weekend off?” And they hadn’t even really got started yet, but he could already tell the day was going to go smoothly.

Madelaine: She could feel her body start to swivel and her feet got a little dancey when they stepped into the place. When he beelined towards the skating place, Madelaine stepped in time behind him and looked around, captivated by the flashing lights and the amazing colors, she looked like a kid in Disney on her first time. Asking for her 6.5 skates, they got handed their pairs and went to sit down on a stool. Slipping the skates on, she couldn’t help but to let out a nervous laugh. She was gonna make such an asshole out of herself, but it was gonna be a fun night. “I absolutely am… As much as I love the con parties, this is… Certainly a better activity” She added. She could’ve gotten vlogging content for her YouTube channel, but this… This was much better.

Evan: didn’t know what it said about him that he was /this/ excited to get out onto the ‘dance floor’, both of them had smiles which threatened to make their jaw ache later, just like everybody else in the place, and the whole atmosphere was infectious. Lacing up his boots, Evan had his on quicker than Madelaine so took it upon himself to get on his knees and lace her second one up. Any time not spent seeing how disastrous they could be was time wasted. Then, he attempted to skate to the rink, the padded flooring making it more of an awkward waddle over there. “Shit, I’m not holding out a lot of hope right now if I’m this awkwardly footed on the non-slippery flooring”, he spoke over his shoulder to Madelaine, flashing her a comic expression before gliding out onto the dancefloor

Madelaine: Long nails and tight laces weren’t really two things that should happen together, nope. The moment the redhead tried to pick the laces from the skating boots to tighten them, she found herself struggling like an idiot, so when Evan knelt down to help her, she picked up her lips in a smile as a quick thank you. The faster she could get this done, the more time they’d spend roller skating… or figuring out how to stay on their feet, actually. Laughing at the way he waddled down the narrow carpet towards the rink, Madelaine tried to calm herself down. He was probably just as awkward as she was, so if anything, this would be more fun than traumatizing. “Hey, I don’t think I’m gonna be much better” She said with a laugh, mimicking his expression. The moment the wheels under her feet touched a slippery surface, she gasped and let out a quiet squeal “Oh God!” Her hands grasped at the railing. Everyone around them looked like either professionals or uncoordinated idiots like them.

Evan: Like with iceskating, it was definitely a wobbly start while you were trying to find your footing - it didn’t help that the last time he had rollerbladed had probably been +10 years ago, but he was a show off at heart, and even though he was just getting re-acquainted with the skates, the actor turned to face Madelaine, rather slowly managing to skate backwards instead. 'Born to Handjive’ from the Grease soundtrack was playing, so he worked his best 'mashed potato’ hand movements until a couple who clearly spent far too much time here sped past, twirling their way across the dancefloor, sending him into a complete wobble. “Show offs”. He mumbled, rolling his eyes over at Madelaine. “How ya doing there, red? Did you uh…is it a personal choice to be travelling at the speed of a baby sloth?”

Madelaine: She wasn’t gonna lie to herself, hell no, Madelaine was terrified. She’d been a dancer for most of her childhood years, where was all that dexterity and capability now, for fuck’s sake! The music was relaxing her, and slow but steadily, she was starting to stop moving herself by gripping the railing and pulling on it to push herself forward, and letting go of it to actually move and shuffle her legs. Laughing at Evan’s failed attempt to dance and his face contorting back to a scowl when he saw the clearly very experienced couple, she couldn’t help it but laugh “Oh my God, shut up, I hate you!” She said with a loud laugh, looking down at her feet, terrified to even move too far away from the railing “Uhm, excuse me, I don’t see you moving all that fast and far away, buddy”

Evan: Glancing around to check the coast was clear of that distracting as heck couple, Evan made his way back over to where Madelaine had managed to…pull herself? “I’m only going this slow so I can stick close to you. You know the drill, never leave a man behind”. Okay, so maybe that was a stretch from the truth. Maybe he hadn’t grown the ability to speed off and weave in and out of the others yet, but he sure as hell was picking it up with more ease than the actress. A smile that struggling not to be smug on his face, Evan held out his hand for Madelaine, hoping she would substitute the railing for his own balance. “Come on, we’re getting in the middle”.

Madelaine: This should’ve been easier, come on Madelaine, get yourself together, you’re looking like an idiot! The redhead tried to convince herself, to pull some of Cheryl’s fake confidence to herself and with a deep breath, she let go of the rails and put her hands up to her sides to balance herself “Alright, alright, I’m getting there… Leave no man behind, you’re full of crap” She said, rolling her eyes before smiling back at him. Looking at his hands, she reached out to grab them, the first impulse in her body when she could take a grip of something was to go strong for it, so she almost even leaned a little bit into her arms when she felt the support from him “To the middle? Oh God I-Oh shit” She cursed out as she started slipping around. She wasn’t falling but this certainly was faster than desirable “If you let go of my hands, I’m going to murder you”

Evan: It really was rapidly getting easier for Evan, so with every surge of newfound confidence, he wanted to push Madelaine a little further and he couldn’t help but pull her along with him the more and more he sped up. “I’m not gonna let go, I promise. Although…you might start wanting me to, soon. I mean look at this, I’m pretty much pro now” gesturing down at the very standard skating that was taking place, Evan knew full well that if anything else was required of him - if he had to turn suddenly, or even try a jump - he knew he’d go crashing down onto his ass, so this would do for now. “You’ve also progressed to fully grown sloth now, so I’m proud of you”.

Madelaine: The middle of the rink was less crowded, with all the people who wanted to go fast and move at a faster-than-glacier pace moving out to the edges, they were left almost alone in the middle of the floor and with less people around, Evan was starting to pick up a little speed and oh dear, Madelaine’s pale delicate hands were about to squeeze the life out of his broad ones. “Well then, Mr. Pro, go on and do a fun trick for everyone to baffle at your wonderful skills” She taunted him and laughed, trying to look at his feet. He was getting the hang of it, so she tried to copy him. One foot outwards, then back in, then the other one. Okay it wasn’t that hard. Rolling her eyes at the comparison, she groaned “Next time, we’re going to a ballet studio and I’m showing you how it’s done” She said with a laugh, needing to prove herself “Okay this is- I’m… This is actually- Okay” She spoke to herself as she started gaining more and more confidence, the grip on the blonde’s hands starting to loosen but definitely still there, mostly for moral support.

Evan: With less people around to crash into, Evan did feel like getting a little more experimental, though he was sure he’d come to regret it if he crashed and burned, not only infront of Madelaine, but everyone else in the rink. Plus, his white short-shorts threatened to rip if he tried anything too vigorous. “You told me not to let go of your hand yet, remember? So are you going to be doing this with me, or what?”. On his own, he probably would’ve just thrown his body down onto the floor, completed the worm and called it a day, but how hard could partner tricks be, really? “So bring some of that ballet grace here. Teach me how to pirouette, if you can. Which I reckon you can. You’re just in your own head right now because you’re worried about falling over and hurting yourself - but weren’t you like that on the first day of your ballet classes, too?”

Madelaine: When Evan proposed she’d do a trick with her, Madelaine’s big brown eyes widened and she shook her head “Oh no.. No no… No no no, don’t worry about me” She said with a laugh, licking her lips “I don’t think I could do any of that and ballet… In ballet you’re standing on your own feet, not on wheels! It’s like- For a pirouette, you just grab momentum and you have to go on pointe, lift your leg- And that’s just not gonna happen here” She said with a chuckle. “But here- lets see I… Mhm” She hesitated for a second before she pulled her hands back. Not too far, since she wanted to be right there if she needed to grab them again, but she straightened up her spine and looked up at him with a big smile, like a child coming back from school with a good grade “Look! Look I’m doing this” She almost yelled with pride, which turned a lot of heads who gave her some very weird looks, but she couldn’t care less.

Evan: In hindsight, maybe it was a good idea Evan couldn’t talk her into trying any tricks. He was just tapping into his inner motivational speaker when he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about - pirouettes were hard enough to master on your own toes, never mind on wheels. Still, it seemed to have instilled some confidence in her as she let go of his hand and took a better stance. The looks she was getting for her outburst only made Evan want to her obnoxiously loud with her, which he did, whooping and clapping as the girl managed to skate alongside him unaided. “You’re a graceful motherfucking Dove right now. Dove Cameron, who? Here’s Dove Petsch, coming through!”

Madelaine: Back upright, strength in her core, her legs were strong but her knees were bent as she used them to push downwards and out, once each time, this was easy, no wonder Evan had picked it up so quickly. Laughing when he started cheering her on, the redhead rolled her eyes and scoffed “Oh my God, you’re such an ass” She said with a laugh, letting herself relax a little now that she’d gotten into the rhythm of things. “With normal skates, this would’ve been a lot easier, it’s this freaking shoe thing with the four wheels, it’s like stepping on a toy car and- Oh shit”. Madelaine squealed before launching herself forward after putting too much weight on one of the outside wheels and it gave out under her weight, twisting her ankle under her body and making her fall to the ground arms first. “Fuck- that hurt a lot” She said between laughs, turning herself around and laying on her back with her sore leg laying down “I told you this would happen” She couldn’t stop laughing, a hand coming over her eyes.

Evan: Evan felt like a proud father as he watched Madelaine fly the nest, her speed picking up as she put some distance between them…and then, she was crashing to the ground. “Oh…fuck” Evan let out, immediately skating to her side, a concerned look on his face as he practically skidded to his knees. Please don’t cry, please don’t cry, he inwardly begged, hoping she hadn’t hurt herself too much and would consequently hate him for bringing her there. Then, her body started rocking and Evan reached out to…cradle her? He guessed, he didn’t know, he was awful at this sort of stuff. Laughter replaced any tears, and without knowing what was going on, the actor let out a couple of nervous laughs himself. “Why are you laughing?! Oh god, is this a 'laugh so you don’t cry sorta situation right now? Are you actually hurt? Where does it hurt?”

Madelaine: She’d always been the kind of person who’d rather laugh at her own foolishness before everyone started laughing at her, and this was no different than any other case. Before Evan started laughing at her, at least he’d be laughing with her. Plus, the situation was incredibly comical, if nothing else. Watching him come towards her and cradle her, concern in his eyes as he tried to figure out why the hell was she laughing instead of bitching and moaning, Madelaine shook her head and smiled at him “I’m laughing because I just ate shit in tiny short shorts in front of everyone here, how could I not laugh” She said between laughs “I’m fine, I think I’m fine” She said, happily leaning on him for support and sitting upright “I’m okay, I’m- Oh, my ankle” She said as she pulled her leg back and her ankle twinged

Evan: Now that Madelaine was putting it into words, Evan could appreciate how ridiculous the whole scenario was, and actually let himself laugh along to it with her. Other people were skating past glancing their way, but the fact they were both laughing probably dismissed the idea of her needing help. Moving to get back to his feet, Evan stopped mid-action as the redhead winced in pain while attempting to move. “Shit.” he let out, his mind instantly jumping to conclusions that she’d broken it. “Can you stand on it at all? Here -” holding out a hand and supporting her under the elbow, Evan attempted to pull her up - a feat made a lot more difficult thanks to the rollerskates. In hindsight, maybe he should’ve taken them off first.

Madelaine: Keeping her foot off the ground, which was heavier even with the skate, the redhead tried not to wince too hard when she stood up and allowed her weight to rest on Evan “I.. Shit- I don’t think I can” She said with a small chuckle. Looking down at their feet, Madelaine looked up at him and narrowed her eyes a little bit “Two people and three legs on skates… Why do I have a feeling this is not gonna be a good idea”

Evan: Full time carer mode activated when Madelaine admitted she couldn’t put any pressure on her ankle, and he was definitely in agreement to it not being a good idea for him to attempt to skate along, dragging a one-legged female in his wake. “Yeah, you’re right, one second”. With one arm still around Madelaine, Evan fumbled with his laces until they were loose enough for him to pull his skates off, one by one, wobbling haphazardly the entire time. Once they were off, he ditched them in the middle of the rink and padded back to the entrance in his socks, rolling Madelaine along with him. In a way, their predicament had now come in handy so she wouldn’t have to hop along or get him to carry her - which wouldn’t be the case once they’d left the establishment, but the thought of giving her a piggy back around didn’t bother him in the slightest. Once they had left the dancefloor, Evan sat Madelaine down onto the nearest bench and got back to his knees, his eyes holding her own gaze as he spoke. “Alright so, I’m not gonna lie, this is probably gonna hurt…” trailing off, the actor attempted to get her skate off as gently as possible, which would’ve been a lot easier if they weren’t high-tops.

Madelaine: With one arm wrapped around Evan’s shoulders and the other one holding onto his bicep, Madelaine tried her best to keep her balance and roll her way from the middle of the rink to the small exit door, following him and trying her best to hop and scoot herself onto where they once sat to put these death traps on. “Yeah I- Oh ouch ouch ow ow ow!” She whimpered as Evan started to unlace the shoes and pull them off. She hated being the whiny girl, she was always so strong and fended for herself, so this was less than desirable. As he was managed to slip the injured feet’s skate off, the redhead bent down to try and take the other one off “I told you this was gonna end badly, I’m so sorry” She said, biting her lip and shaking her head as she kicked the other one off and sighed.

Evan: hated hearing Madelaine in pain, especially knowing he was the one that was sort of inflicting it on her by trying to get the boot off, but he couldn’t give up half way, and with the last little wiggle, he’d managed to free her foot. The sounds she was making definitely wasn’t promising, and normally he wouldn’t resort straight to this, but he knew she was a busy girl who couldn’t just let wait to let recovery happen without actually knowing what they were dealing with. “Don’t be sorry at all, if anyone should be sorry, it should be me. This was my idea, and you’re probably gonna hate me even more for suggesting this, but…I think we need to get you to the hospital. I can carry you out to my car? I know this isn’t exactly how you planned to spend your con weekend, and I feel so fucking bad”.

Madelaine: “Hey, no, don’t say that!” Madelaine said with a smile, shaking her head a little bit “I wanted to come here, and let’s face it, in the twenty minutes we spent in there I had the time of my life… Before my clumsy self kicked in” The redhead said, a shrug picking up her shoulders with a small smile to make him feel better. The rink people brought them their shoes over, seeing that Madelaine was struggling a little bit and Evan was helping, and she thanked them with a kind smile. “Really?” The girl asked her companion “Do you think it’s like… Hospital bad?” She asked, looking down at her feet. It was certainly swollen, but at least it wasn’t broken or anything, right? Hearing him offer to carry her to his car, Mads furrowed her brow “I haven’t had a good piggy back in ages… Turn around” She said, picking her Converse up by the high top and waiting until he turned around and lowered himself enough for her to jump on his back.

Evan: Evan’s concerned expression melted into a smile as Madelaine reassured him. He too had been enjoying himself thoroughly until the inevitable happened and one of them bit the dust. “Hey, if it wasn’t going to be you, it would’ve been me, so either way one of us was going to end up carried out of here, and I think you would’ve struggled a little more carrying my ass out. Also, it’s better to be safe than sorry, right? I’d rather them do x-rays on it now than to find out your ballet days are behind you in a few months when the bone fuses back together in some gnarly, unaligned way”. Scooping up his own shoes, Evan got into position for her to be able to hop on with ease, and made his way out of the building. “See ya later, 80th century. It’s been emotional”. He declared as they re-entered the parking lot, spinning back around so he could place her onto the passenger seat. “Alright, I know a hospital pretty close to here, and I’ll drive you to San Diego in the morning so don’t even…worry about that”.

Madelaine: He always had to make it odd, first with the couple who got married on an acid trip, now with her bones fusing into an anthropomorphic mess of a leg, and Madelaine couldn’t help it but laugh. Even if she was in slight pain and was getting carried out of a skating rink on the back of someone she’d only met today, she was smiling, and that meant a lot to her. “Well, I can’t have that! How’s the show gonna explain that? Oh, Cheryl got into a bad cheerleading accident and had to have her ankle and foot replaced by a stump, we’ve swapped her storyline, now she’s half pirate” She said with an eloquent voice, as if she were pitching the idea to show runners. Sliding herself onto the seat and buckling up, the concern in Evan’s voice made her heart melt “Hey, don’t worry about that… You’re doing more than enough now. I mean, sitting in a waiting room in those short shorts? They’re gonna wanna take -you- in for tests”

Evan: “I mean…a storyline like that would /definitely/ make me want to watch the show. You said she was a closeted bitch at first, so she’s changed slightly already, why not go the full stretch and have her be a pirate in the next season?” Sliding back into the seat that he was unaware he’d be sitting back in so soon, Evan buckled himself in and began the drive to the nearest hospital, chuckling softly at the thought of them sat side by side in the accident and emergency department dressed how they were. If anything, hopefully it would give the staff on shift a smile. “So what’s the story we’re going with? Are we gonna pretend you hurt it doing something a lot more badass than struggling to roller skate, or are we just going to hope and pray that they’ve had this kind of scenario before?”

Madelaine: “Of course the peg leg girl would attract the lobster claw boy” Madelaine said with an eyeroll and a laugh, her whole body semi-turned to face him as he drove her. He really didn’t have to, so she appreciated that he was taking the time to do this for her. Making sure she had everything she needed in her backpack, the redhead allowed herself to flump back down on the seat “I mean, with Riverdale you never know, maybe the next villain will be a crazy pirate and Cheryl will be his side kick” She joked. “Mhm…” His question took her a little off guard “I think they must’ve seen this before. Maybe not the disco rink, but the outfits? Definitely. Remember all the acid marriages, they need to re-live their golden years, and I’m sure there’s gotta be more than one fella who goes wild for these short shorts” She said, shimmying her butt on the seat for a second before groaning, she’d moved her ankle a bit and it stung again.

Evan: “Peg leg girl and lobster claw boy, now that sounds like a duo that I could…ship?” He stated, attempting to use the terminology that he’d seen fans use so many times. From the sounds of it, with their wacky plotlines, maybe Riverdale wasn’t so different from AHS afterall, only a lot less serious and a lot more camp. “I honestly think you should suggest that - a crazy pirate sounds like the perfect addition to your show.” Attempting to keep the conversation flowing to take Madelaine’s mind off the pain, Evan cast a glance over at the female as she shimmied and instantly regretted it. “Alright, you…stop being all bubbly until further notice, if you can. That’s doctors orders” He demanded, resuming more small talk until they’d reached the hospital, where he parked the car and got back into position for her to climb on his back again. Maybe it was a little extra, but it was a hell of a lot faster just to carry her than to make her hop alongside him, with a lot less movement on her part as well. Reaching the front desk of the accident department, the clerk saw to them pretty sharpishly once she realised Madelaine was on his back. “So uh, we have a case of terrible roller-skater here with possibly sprained or broken ankle…”

Madelaine: With a made up frown on her face, Madelaine tried to stay put on her ass while Evan drove them to the emergency room. Looking down at her feet, she couldn’t help it but laugh a little bit, throwing her head back to the head rest and closing her eyes for a split second, taking in a deep breath and letting it out with a grumpy sigh “I have to wear heels tomorrow for interviews!” She whined into the air before chuckling quietly. It could’ve been a lot worse. The pain, as annoying as it was, was completely bearable and she could put up with it until the end of the weekend. Watching him pull into the parking spaces, the redhead re-assumed her shimmying technique until the end of the seat and went up on her companion’s back, resting her head on his shoulders. The emergency area wasn’t too crowded, mostly people who were clearly not feeling well, but no actual emergencies they could be stopping. “Oh hi” She said with a bright smile, waving her hand to the nurse on the other side of the counter. “Oh, put her down on that chair, we’ll take care of it” The nurse said, pointing at a wheelchair with a male nurse holding it. Dismounting Evan’s back, Madelaine hopped onto the chair, handing her backpack and shoes over to the blonde boy “I’m sure I won’t be long. Just some X-Rays before I see the doctor, right?” She asked, looking back at the nurse. “Yeah, you can wait here, your girlfriend will be right back” He said as he started wheeling her away.

Evan: It was just Evan’s luck that he’d managed to hang out with some female company, and once again, they were whisked away by some hunky dude. Only this time, they weren’t dating, and afore mentioned hunky dude was simply her nurse. That was better than what he was used to. As they rolled away, Evan only just registered what the staff member had said, so had to raise his voice a little for his response to be heard. “Bold of you to assume I could land someone that hot!” he called out jokingly, sticking his hand into the bowl of candy that sat upon the desk, noticing the clerk giving him a judgemental look as he unwrapped the sweet and popped it into his mouth. “What’s up?” He spoke with no response. “...You come here often?”

Madelaine: It must’ve taken around half an hour to fourty five minutes before all the X-Rays were taken, but Madelaine really wasn’t rushed at all. Many nurses came over to ask her about the show, and she was happy to see the fans ranged from all ages and professions. If someone as serious as a doctor could watch something as camp-y as Riverdale, they were doing a good job. By the end of it, she was getting rolled back to Evan in the waiting room with a smile on her face and a bandage on her leg. “Hey, you” She said with a big smile “So, no big heels while standing up, you can wear them for interviews and photo ops, but try and get down to flats as soon as possible, and ice whenever you can, alright? The pain should be gone in 3 to 5 days, it’s just a hard twist, not even a sprain. You’ve got a very good friend here who made sure you didn’t step on it” The Doctor said while looking at Evan and then the girl “Thank you so much, Doctor- Oh wait, can I have your pen?” She said, looking down and then at Evan “Pass me my backpack?” She asked, quickly pulling out her wallet. Taking out one business card, she scribbled her signature and the names of the two daughters he’d mentioned were big fans of the show before handing it and the pen back “Make sure to have them come over to San Diego any time of the weekend if they want, I’ll walk outside to give them a hug… Or maybe this guy can give me a piggyback ride” She teased, looking at Evan and giving him a wink.

Evan: Drumming his fingers absentmindedly against the arms of the chair he was sat on, Evan didn’t even notice the looks the clerk kept giving him, his presence clearly irritating her. He was used to that. Blame it on his ADD, he barely even noticed anymore when he was being a little shit. Finally, there was movement out of the corner of his eye, and his 80’s clad friend was being wheeled back towards him. Getting up with a grin, Evan flashed her a thumbs up at the bandage. “Nice. I’m liking the SDCC accessory of choice”, he teased, knowing full well that a girl as fashion forward as Madelaine wouldn’t wear it and do her best to pretend nothing was wrong with her ankle tomorrow. He watched on as she refused to let herself leave without giving a little something back to the doctor who had taken care of her, and he had to smile, most people would’ve been in too much of a hurry to cater to their own needs to think about others. “Well, I don’t know about /that/, I’ve gotta be in Italy tomorrow…but tell you what, you need to rest, I figure we can’t do anything that requires you standing up anymore, so I’ll drive you to San Diego. Today, in your car. That way I don’t have to leave you straight away, and we can talk a little more? Or…carry on serenading random car loads of people?”

Madelaine: Rolling her eyes at Evan’s comment, Madelaine couldn’t help it but smile. He knew full and well that she wouldn’t wear the bandage, but she’d try to do the best with her ice packs and resting the leg, but Cheryl wasn’t gonna go down to her flats, and neither was she, so it’d just have to fix itself with time. Watching the whole medical staff wave goodbye and leave them, Madelaine reached up with her hands as if to ask Evan for a hand to hold and get up. She could hop towards the car, he’d carried her enough and as much as she joked about, he’d done more than she’d expected. “Yeah, I think I’m out of commission… I’m sorry I had to cut our night at the rink short, you looked like a natural” She said with a small smile “You wanna drive two hours to San Diego?” She asked, eyebrow cocked up. “I mean, yeah of course, I don’t have much to do tonight, but do you really wanna do that?” She wanted to invite him over to her house and they could talk there, he didn’t have to do all that for her.

Evan: Taking Madelaine’s hand, Evan helped her to her feet and propped an arm over his shoulder, both of them a little more lenient with how much movement she made now they knew it wasn’t broken. That had to be relieving for her, she had a heck of a lot to do that weekend and he would’ve felt endlessly guilty if she couldn’t dive into it as much as she wanted. Although, if he were honest with himself, he’d get a little kick out of seeing all of the professional shots of the Riverdale crew looking glamorous, with a wink to their few hours spent in LA together in the form of a bandage on her ankle. “It’s totally cool, if we had stayed any longer I probably would’ve grown /too/ good at it, and people would’ve been marvelling, it would’ve been embarrassing, you know?” Hopping back into his own car, Evan waited for them to settle on a destination before he bothered putting the key in the ignition. “I mean, it makes sense, you can’t really drive with a jacked up ankle, I don’t know how else your car would get to San Diego, and I can easily get a train or bus back, it’s chill. I’m making the decision for you”.

Madelaine: Hopping back towards the car, Madelaine gripped onto Evan’s waist tightly as she tried to steady herself and balance everything she had going on while they made it back. Getting on the truck was hard now that she wasn’t getting positioned from his back, but once she managed to get in there, she happily buckled in and let her foot rest on her healthy leg “You probably would’ve ended up getting like, scouted for a national 80’s roller derby team, and what would’ve been of your acting career? Someone with that much rollering skills can’t drop out of such a thing, you had to represent your country! Really, it’s for the best, I did you a favor in the end” She added with a small shrug, trying to keep a straight face for as long as she could before she cracked. Hearing him say that he’d happily drive her and taken a bus back to LA had the redhead shaking her head “What? No way, no, I refuse. We can go home, and open a bottle of wine and talk until the sun comes out if you want, but I’m not gonna let you do that. I’m… Very thankful, but I’ve got castmates who are driving from here, my stylist and make up team, an Uber, there’s plenty of ways I can get there. And you’ve got a flight to catch in the morning.”

Evan: Evan wasn’t sure what he expected Madelaine to be like, but honestly…this wasn’t it. He’d probably thought she’d take herself more seriously, so was pleasantly surprised to find out she can be just as goofy as himself - her next joke proved it. Shaking off the laugh that consumed them both for a moment, the male got the car started and buckled himself in. “Alright, if you’re sure. The option’s always there. But I like the sound of your idea, too....Your place or mine?”

[peantis]

First nightmare!!: Maze Hotel

It started with me and a bunch of people going to go shoot a movie (this isn’t as important as you’d think). We’re at someone’s house and getting things set up, when I go outside and see this weird candy shop. Now, in dream, I know about this candy shop, but it’s open weird hours so I never go. OUT of dream, I know EXACTLY where this shop WOULD have been.

I start walking to the shop and see it’s open now. There’s no cars or anything outside this strip mall thing, but the inside is PACKED. It looks like a cross between a bar and a laser tag arena inside. I keep being stopped by this old man that comments on my sweatshirt, that has a band I’ve never heard of called “Dead Alive” (this IS important for the dream plot). The man throughout the dream brings over his friends multiple times to point out the sweatshirt and says something like “you see that? Her dad must’ve told her.”

I go around the candy shop, and there is a bar in one area that’s closed off. The owner, a tall pretty woman, has been chatting with me about nonsense. When I began to go check out and leave, I get accused of stealing. I have to wait in one spot for the owner to get back and decide if I stole or not. When she gets back, the candy store changes into just a bar, but still vaguely lazer tag themed (like black with neon lights). The entire time there is very loud EDM music blasting in my ear, to the point that dream me is covering my ears a bit.

She decides I wasn’t stealing and that I’m free to go. I take a wrong door and end up in this closed off area called the arcade. When I go inside, it’s just this mish mosh of unrecognizable dream crap, but with a TON of people inside. Since I couldn’t make anything out lemme just say that it gave me the most insane feeling of dread I’ve felt in a long time.

There’s a ton of doors in the place, so I try entering some. Each room has a different theme going on. Also, this entire time, I’m trying to text or call someone for help/get them over here, and my phone won’t cooperate. One room I enter has someone intent on breaking my bones, and I escape into another that says “happy experience”. Inside it is a giant American mall, during Christmas time. I could draw this mall out, it was so detailed. I walk further through the mall and look at all of the Christmas sales in the stores. The feeling of dread is still there.

I go through a dress shop, and a perky woman is there. She asks me when my “big day” is, then says “there’s no bigger day than today!” And just stands there smiling at me. Vague Christmas music is playing softly in the background. For some reason I put on a dress and continue this journey through the hell mall. I enter the equivalent of a JC Penney and inside is a TON of people, including the candy shop woman, standing there.

The candy shop woman is very very tall now, and she leans over me to make me back down into the floor. She says “have you no doubt?” And snaps one of my legs. I cry out in what felt like very real pain in the dream.

Everyone vanishes, and suddenly I’m outside, but on a rooftop. Surrounding me are bodies of the people I saw inside of the candy shop, all partly alive but mostly dead. I don’t recognize where we are anymore. The old man that kept talking about my sweatshirt smiles at me. Get it? They’re all Dead Alive.

He says that we will have peace now. The building is made of very large cobblestone and I try to scale down it. The bricks are crumbling in my hands and getting dirt in my eye so I can’t see, but I’m doing it. One of the bodies cries out in anguish when I pass her, begging me to go so they can “be at peace”.

Still with a broken leg, still in this formal dress on (now filthy) I reach the ground. I still have no idea where I am anymore. I see a war helicopter flying overhead (like one of those army green ones) and I wave them down. The helicopter is making its decent towards me when I wake up.

This dream was less than 2 hours of sleep.

[dungledrags]

Extended recap for 87 below the cut!

Initiative reminder: Adelaide, Reverence, Guards, Noah, Merit, Pen, Mallard.

Mallard starts off combat this session, in Boss Form 2. He casts Branding Smite, and attacks Merit, hitting him, but Merit poofs away using Misty Escape. Adelaide gets healed by Noah a bit, then casts Zephyr Strike, moving to Mallard and hitting him. Reverence gets healed a bit by Noah, and misses the guard next to her with both Hell Star and her Spiritual Flail. On the guards' turn, the green light coming from the crystal engulfs all the guards, alive and dead, including the coward guards in the corner, and changes them all to spooky smoke-filled Possessed Guards, whose icons can be found at this [link]. The guard nearest Reverence casts Compelled Duel, but she passes her Wisdom save. Pen, Adelaide, and Noah all get the same treatment, but only Pen fails the Wis save. Reverence gets hit once, and Pen gets hit once. There is an aura around each of the guards, which is pure shadow, and those inside the auras cannot see anything outside the aura. Noah scoots out of an aura, and then teleports across the room through the shadows. Lilith slashes at but misses the guard nearest Noah. Merit poofs back into existence, and is still Frightened, so only one of his Eldritch Blasts hit Mallard, though Hex does damage. Pen reaches into Hector and pulls out the potion of I Don't Know, which is the mystery potion. Pen drinks it, and water comes pouring out of their mouth (they cast water breathing at the start of the day though, so that's fine.) Pen's mouth now has properties of the Decanter of Endless Water.

Mallard attempts to casts some sort of charm at Merit, who passes his Wis save, but Mallard moves to Merit. Adelaide kills one of the formerly-coward guards, and on their way to Mallard, passes through Healing Spirit and gets healed. Reverence gets healed by Healing Spirit, and casts Cure Wounds on herself (3rd level). There are five Possessed Guards remaining, Reverence catches a crit, Noah, Lilith, Pen catch one hit each. Noah swings and misses, and so does Lilith, unfortunately. Healing Spirit's time is up as well. Merit Dodges away from Mallard, as he's still Frightened. Pen opens their mouth and Geysers a guard, who crit fails and falls prone. They then smack the guard while he's down. But the guard doesn't lose concentration on Compelled Duel, which is admirable when a gnome spouts water at you and whacks you.

Mallard casts Inflict Wounds at Merit, but misses, thanks to Dodging. Reverence misses with Hell Star and Spiritual Flail both, unfortunately. The guards attack, hitting Reverence, Noah, and Lilith once, and Adelaide twice. As Pen is spouting water at him, the guard on the ground can't get up without a strength check, which he fails. Noah casts Healing Spirit again, bringing back the Healing Owl, placing it on Lilith, who very much needs it, and (after it is determined that the ABI + bonus in the Tail Whip means 8+str modifier+proficiency) Tail Whips and horn-rams a guard, killing it. There are four guards remaining. Lilith doesn't hit. Merit Dodges again, and scoots slightly. Pen spews water at their guard and smacks them with shillelagh.

Mallard casts Searing Smite on himself and hits Merit once, lighting him on fire, though Hex stays up. Adelaide misses their swings on the guard, and scoots out of the shadows. Reverence heals with Healing Spirit, and casts Guardian Of Faith which 'rides' Lilith. The guardian holds a shield with Reverence's symbol on it, and is fuzzy and hard to distinguish. She then casts Shield Of Faith on herself. By DM Law, the guards must roll dex saves from Guardian Of Faith, and the Guardian hits all of them, and kills two, knocking the guards down to two, the one fighting Pen, and the one that was fighting Adelaide. The Geysered guard gets up, and hits Pen once, the other hitting Reverence twice, knocking her to one health. Fire damage kills the non-Geysered guard. Noah casts Cure Wounds on Reverence, and Lilith beaks the last guard. Merit gets singed by fire and fails his con save, he is still on fire, and loses concentration on Hex. He Dodges again. Pen spews more water on the last guard, who gets knocked down again, and they whack him with shillelagh again. Pen's potion apparently lasts more than one hour and they should probably not swallow.

Mallard hits Merit and Merit goes unconscious. He's not dead though. Devil's Tongue deactivates, and Merit is down. Mallard says "Who's next?" Adelaide casts Zephyr Strike and hits Mallard twice. Reverence heals with Healing Spirit, and realises she can't cast a helpful spell without touching him and setting Merit on fire. She casts Inflict Wounds and hits Mallard, and re-casts Spiritual Weapon, which misses Mallard. There is one guard remaining, currently being Geysered by Pen. He gets up, and casts Daylight, dispelling the darkness aura around him, but making Adelaide flinch visibly. Noah hits the Geysered-guard to death, bringing the total alive guards to None. Noah moves his Healing Spirit over Reverence and Merit, and flies to the cluster of Merit, Adelaide, Mallard, and Reverence, landing and casting Cure Wounds on Merit, waking him from unconsciousness. Lilith goes away from the fight to retrieve Noah's trident. Merit is healed by Healing Spirit, and stands up with Noah's help. He is no longer on fire, but is still Frightened, and fires an Arrow Of Travel to the corner farthest from the cluster of combatants. Pen turns down the Geyser to climb the stairs, and casts Produce Flame, hitting Mallard. They then unfortunately miss Mallard with Geyser, and hits Noah. Noah doesn't take damage or fall prone, he's just wet now. (This is the fourth turn of Geysers, meaning 120+ gallons of water are now on the field.)

Mallard doesn't recognise Noah, despite being face to face, though Noah is dragon-y at the moment. He makes Noah roll a Wisdom save, which he fails, and so Mallard casts Crown of Madness on Noah. Adelaide hits Mallard. Adelaide uses Zephyr's Strike's speed to zip to Merit to cast Cure Wounds and zip back. Reverence heals with Healing Spirit, misses Mallard with Inflict Wounds, and hits him with Spiritual Weapon. Noah, under the influence of Crown of Madness, claws at Reverence, but misses. Lilith returns to the close range, and hits Mallard. Noah moves away from close range, getting hit by Mallard with an Attack of Opportunity, and fails his wisdom save to break the charm. Merit moves, and hits Mallard with Eldritch Blast. This is the second last turn being Frightened for Merit. Pen misses Mallard with Geyser and hits Reverence, who fails her save and falls prone. (Reverence is still on fire though. She also has the Phoenix Egg on her.) Pen drops down from the stairs, casts Healing Word on Reverence, and misses Mallard with a quarterstaff.

Mallard hits Reverence unconscious, which uses his action so Crown of Madness dissipates. Adelaide goes through the fire to reach Reverence and they cast Cure Wounds on her, waking her up. Reverence stands up, and heals with Healing Spirit. She hits him with both Hell Star and Spiritual Flail. Noah flies across the room and grabs his trident, and casts Eldritch Blast at Mallard, hitting him both times, one critical. Mallard uses his reaction to cast Hellish Rebuke, hurting Noah. Lilith crit hits Mallard, who screams, and starts to eat the crystal from the floor which saps the rest of the green from the floor, but then he chokes, and gags up neon green, and dies.

Out of combat, Reverence begins to cast Spare The Dying, though she is still on fire, and taking damage from it constantly, as is Adelaide, who is still affected by both the fire and Daylight. A good deal of math is done, and Reverence drops Spare The Dying. She takes a handful of Mallard's teeth and his eyepatch, and tosses his coat at Noah, who puts on Mallard's coat. Pen takes some of the green goo, and Noah takes some crystal shards. Adelaide is hurting from the Daylight spell. Merit takes in the room with an Arcana check, and knows what is going on, but will absorb the information later. The party begins to move out of the room, sheltering Adelaide as best they can. Adelaide leaves the room, and Noah stabs himself with some crossbow bolts to add to his dead act, and he and Lilith play dead, acting as if they were casualties. Reverence hands a piece of hair to Pen, just in case, which prompts Noah to offer Pen a few feathers from Lilith and some of his own hair.

Before they leave, Noah tells them that he wants them to know he loves them. Reverence says she has a certain degree of fondness for him too, and leaves through Dimension Door out to the river, texting her friends to let them know where she'll be if she dies.

Pen turns into a bird, leaving Noah and Lilith in the crystal room, and carrying Merit away.

And that's it.

Click this [link] to return to the recap!

[eerythingisshaka]

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others Pt. 3

(“...you really did a number on me.”)

M’Baku x Reader

*Part 1* *Part 2*

Word Count: 3.7K

Plot:  You and M’Baku have to be apart for a business trip you are taking.  Leaving him sucks for you both, but career is important and he supports.  But the trip is a lot more than a test of your value to your job, but to your relationship as well.  

*Previously*

After toweling off, he heads for the bed, covers feeling cool against every inch of his skin.  His body begins to wind down from all of the sexual frustration and Jabari disrespect, but is not used to the extra space in his bed.  He is still mostly on his side, but feels over to yours, imagining your curves as his own personal skyline.  He reaches for his phone to check, but nothing is on it from you, just a couple of memes from the other Jabari clowning him endlessly.  He sets it back down, turning toward where you would be.  He was already remorseful, especially since you were right, but he didn’t want to bar his guys from visiting, that is just rude.  He takes a deep breath, drifting off to hopes of tomorrow being better.  

The irritating jingle of his alarm wakes M’Baku slowly as he reaches to turn it off. The soft yellow glow of the sunrise seeps through the blinds as he awakes.  He turns over to reach to the other side of the bed but his hand drops dramatically on the mattress.  M’Baku’s head flies up in distress only to calm down once reality settles in again.  Your body where you once laid for him to snuggle and grind up on in the morning  is now miles away from him.  M’Baku’s face plummets into his pillow, letting out a frustrated huff.  This was going to be a lot harder than he imagined.  Having the house to himself seemed like it might be relaxing but physical touch is M’Baku’s love language and that is just not possible solo.  He tried that yesterday, and it just isn’t the same with you being there.

Rolling off to the side, he sits for a moment, head hanging, collecting his thoughts. It’s a little after 4 am, so you wouldn’t be up just yet, he surmises but picks his phone up anyway.  No message from you, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re still angry, right?  He hopes you will text him anyway, but you were pretty damn pissed so if 10 am comes without an answer, he’ll go ahead.

Rising with a stretch, he goes to the restroom, get dressed and gets some breakfast going.  Heading downstairs, the remnants of last night still lurks in the room.  No time to clean now. he shakes his head to himself, promising that he will talk to his men about treating his space with some damn respect.  Getting the blender ot, he puts together a protein shake to get his body going for the day.  The house is so quiet without you being there.  Even though you didn't have to be up at his work hour, you couldnt sleep without him and sometimes you would blast some old school jams while making him a decent meal before he goes to work.  

Decked out in his Under Armour shirt and Adidas track pants, with his Pumas on, he was ready to get to the gym.  M’Baku has been doing physical training for a few years now.  He dips and dabbles in many different channels of training, but today is just a simple boot camp regime that he advertised to get people right for the summer.  It’s a quick and easy way for people to become interested in his program, and it usually pulls a certain type of clientele.  They come for the workout but stay for him, which he is completely aware of.  But it never becomes more than shameless flirting on their end and once their session is up, it’s done anyway.

Hopping in his SUV, he sets  off to work.  Making his way down a freeway, the trill of a phone call interrupts his Jay Prince jamming.  Your name displays on his dash, causing his heart rate to rise a little, thinking fondly that you still can't rest at this hour.  But also, will you be mad or over last night by now?  M’Baku picks up.

“Hey, whatchu doin up this early, love?”  He asks tentatively.

You say groggily, “I couldn’t sleep much more.  You know I’m always up at this hour but I think I’m nervous about the first day.”

M’Baku nodding says, “Oh, please.  You got this (Y/N).  You come this far, you’re just getting your feet wet.  Once you are in it, you’ll probably be bored to death.”

You smile to yourself thankful for his encouragement.  “Yeah it’ll definitely be bored with all these white folks trying to pep us up in the world of business and commerce.  You headed to work?”

“Yeah, might even be early this time,”  M’Baku says, reaching for his shake taking a sip.

A police car zooms up to M’Baku’s car.  The officer is looking at M’Baku for entirely too long since he is driving on the highway.  M’Baku looks at him through his peripheral.

“Did you get some real food in you instead of just that protein lab created mess?”

M’Baku screwing his face up in a knot, “Yeah, I just got some fruit and a bagel.”

The police officer is still parallel to him.  M’Baku looks over once and the officer has a radio in his hand, talking into it, looking him dead in his eyes.

“We were out of bagels when I left…” you say suspiciously.

M’Baku chuckles nervously, “I am capable of replenishing the fridge, you know?”

M’Baku keeps looking forward, he switches lanes to make the next exit.

You, not convinced, “Riiiight.  Well I’m going to lay a little more until I have to get ready.  Drive safe.”

“I will, go get em.”  But you already hung up.  Nodding to himself, M’Baku says,“Ok, we are still mad.”  Looking in his rearview, the police car is gone.

That wasn’t the worst conversation you all had, but the tension was still there.  M’Baku didn’t want to engage with you about it head on since you are just starting our first work day, but he does not like for arguments between you guys to go unresolved, he faces the issue head on and talks it out.  So for now, you win, but the war ain’t over.

M’Baku pulls up to the gym, Baerobics.  It has a reputation of hiring the best trainers that are the best looking.  It won’t discriminate though, since everyone has their own taste, but it is practically a workout buddy meat market.  M’Baku was a popular choice for clients but he believes in his work so the turnover rate is a little high, but those that stick around are either dedicated or paying for a show, which is still a win-win either way.

Swiping his key card, he makes his way inside.  The receptionist says good morning as he makes his way to his space to set up for his first appointment.  It’s 5:45 am, so he had a little time to look at his emails.  

There’s a knock at his office door, and it’s the receptionist.  

“Hey, how ya been, big guy?”  She asks in a cheery tone.  

“I’m great, Cheryl.  You have a good weekend?”

She rolls her eyes, walking in like the details are too juicy to keep at the door.  She is a brunette, 5 foot nothing, menopausal caucasian.  She talks too much, but is good people.

“I thought you’d never ask.  I told you about my nephew?  Well, he has his graduation coming up.”

“Coming up?  It’s already halfway through May, you didn’t mention it before.”  M’Baku leans in, inquisitively.

“RIGHT?! I didn’t know until now!  He is so secretive, and unsocial, I can’t wrap my head around that guy anymore.  My sister is in shambles, trying to plan out the party on such short notice.  Cake, photographer, venue, inviting family.  I try to tell her to cool it, and keep it small, but she is not a friend of common sense.”

M’Baku discreetly looks at his computer’s clock.  His appointment should be there any minute.

“Well, if you guys need any help, just let me know.  I love decorating, and I could bring a dish or two.  I feel like family, as much as you talk to me about them.”

Cheryl covers her heart, “Ohhh, M’BAKU, you are a saint made for sin!  I’d love to see those hands do delicate work!”  Laughing out loud, landing a hand on his forearm.  She is like an aunt to you, but her jokes always make her infatuations clear.  

The bell at the front door rings faintly in the background, making Cheryl jump up.  

“Oh!  We’re open!  So I will text you later this week about the details, because we could use all the help we can get.  Plus I have someone I’d love for you to meet.”

M’Baku raises his hands in protest, “No, no, no, Cheryl, I have a girlfriend.”

Cheryl turns mouth agape, “Still?? Wow, she must be a keeper then.  Well, she is friendly, so it may happen regardless, she knows boundaries though.  Thanks again!”

Cheryl leaves, M’Baku rubs his eyes in frustration.  Why did he sign up to help her?  He doesn’t know when it will be and for how long.  He doesn’t even know her people, what if their racist as fuck?

He gets an IM from Cheryl, You have a visitor!  

M’Baku types back a thank you and gets up to look out in his studio.  

“M’BAKU!  Getcho fat ass out here boah!”

He knew that voice anywhere, Akoje made his way to the stude.

“Akoje, what are you doing here man?”

Akoje was binding his locs into a bun on top of his head.  Bouncing on his toes, his tall lanky frame was decked out in some bright neon patterned tights and a one-piece that said “I Need a Baker”  with the face of the referenced singer.

“I’m cashing in on my free trial session, Kukie.”  He says as he drops down to do burpees.

“I gave you, like five of those, which was four too many.” He says through gritted teeth.

Akoje pops back up to standing, “Oh, you keep count?  Well then shit, just help your Jabari out, I have no means of training.  Look at me, I am flab and bones.”

He turns sideways, practically doing a backbend to show off a non-existent belly.

“Ayye, go on with all of that, man. You should have had a membership of your own now.  You could get your steps in by cleaning up my place for the mess you all made.”

Akoje lifts his hands in innocence, “Hey, that had nothing to do with me, you know Ogoro is on his see-food diet.  We told him to slow up, but luckily the toilet wasn’t too far.”

M’Baku claps his hands in excitement, “And another thing!  What the fuck happened in my bath-”

The door to his studio creeks open.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, traffic was pretty crazy today.”

M’Baku’s real first client comes in.  Her yellow bone body, looked like gold melted into some hot pink fashion nova workout gear that does not hide a single aspect of her figure, which itself is nothing short of an advertisement for being someone’s trophy wife.

She lays down her bag and water, and Akoje in entranced.

“Ok, scrap the training, lemme be your assistant today.”

“No.”

“Come on!  I been wondering about becoming a trainer anyway.”

“No.”

“I will pay YOU to let me do this.”

M’Baku pauses, then hold out his hand, “Gimme $20.”

Akoje unzips a side pocket on his legging and slaps it in M;Baku’s hand, looking back at the client Birdman style.

M’Baku pockets the money, “Now get out.”

Akoje looks back incredulously, “Man, I gave you the money!”

The client looks at them cautiously, then back to her phone.

M’Baku starts loudly, “Yes sir, thank you for catching up on your sessions, but I am with someone at the moment so please ait in the lobby until we are done here.”  He takes Akoje by the arm and leads him out the door.  

Once outside Akoje points back at M’Baku saying, “You ain’t shiiiiit.  You better give me some details later!”  Right before M’Baku closes the door.

M’Baku turns back to his client, “I am sorry about that, forgive me.  I am M’Baku, I will be your Baerobics instructor this week.”

The client giggles holding out a manicured hand, “No problem, it was kind of cute to see.  You all cousins or something?” she says with an accent from somewhere South.

“Yeah, we are.  A little too close in relation if you ask me.”

“Oh cut him a break.  I wasn’t sure who was my trainer so maybe he should consider it.  I’m Kenie by the way.”  She flashes a Colgate, dimpled smile that caught M’Baku a little by surprise as she puts her hand out for a firm shake.

“Kenie?”  M’Baku repeats.

“Yeah, like Kenny from South Park, just spelled different.  It’s short for Kennedy, but my friends call me Kenie.”

“Oh, ok.  Well then Kennedy it is.”  He says, before chortling out loud.  Kenie made a face, pushing him at his chest, as he feigns injury.

“My goodness, you are stronger than you look,  Ms. Kenie. How could you?”

“Yeah and you are only soft in feelings, I see.”  She says, shaking her hand like she just punched a brick wall.   Kenie was very charismatic so far but M’Baku knew how to keep it casual and professional.

“So let’s just go over to my office and do a questionnaire about you dietary and training needs”

He pulls out a chair for her as she arches her butt out to sit.  Maybe she can’t help it, but M’Baku kept his gaze averted.  He makes his way to the other side, her eyes follow his body until he is seated, and they get started.

M’Baku starts his introduction, “So, I like to start my sessions just asking what your goals are, and what you’re looking to improve on during these sessions.”

She crosses her arms under her breasts, looking off into space, “Well, summer is approaching, so you know bikinis and pool parties are happening real, real quick.  So I just want to make sure I’m toned up, some definition on my stomach,”  she looks down feeling her flat tummy, “And get my arms right, legs tight, all that.”  

M’Baku looks her over as she points to her ‘problem areas’, “Yeah, you have a good foundation in your midsection, I can tell.  But there’s plenty to do that’ll get you toned, just have to mostly watch your diet to make sure it appears.”

Kenie rolls her eyes, “Ugh, I know!  I just love my carbs though, it’s a struggle.”

M’Baku chuckles, “Yeah I love them too, sweets as well, but it’s about moderation and discipline to get the results.  You won’t have to give them up too long though, I don’t believe in completely abstaining from what you crave.”

Kenie leans forward, hands on her knees, biting her lip looking over his desk slightly.  “I know, I agree completely.”  M’Baku was not sure if they were talking about sweets and carbs anymore.

Clearing his throat, “Ok, so we can do some little warm up exercises just to see where your fitness level is.”

Back in his studio, M’Baku requests her to do some squats, watching her form.  She is hesitant every time she goes into it.

M’Baku approaches her, “Try to keep your back straight as you go down.”  She nods, attempting again.

“Not quite like that.  Carry your chest high and try again.”  He puts his hand to her upper back as she goes down.

M’Baku touches under her bicep, “Arms up and lean back a bit further.”

She looks like she is fighting back a smile, but she turns into a pro at it after a few rounds.

“Good, again.”  M’Baku commands.

She breaths and goes.

“Perfect, now lower.”

She goes, little lower for two rounds.

“Ok, I think you can go lower.”

She does, smiling broadly now.  “I can definitely do that…”

“Yeah, that’s it! Good. Ok stop.  That was great!”

She smiles, fanning herself,  “No thank you!  Seeing that in the mirror was a treat.”

“Yeah, your form really locked in once we got going.”

“Mhmm...once I get going, it’s hard to stop, especially when it feels good, you know?”  She says with an odd expression

M’Baku nods looking away for a second, “Ok, now we’ll move on to some ab workouts.”

M’Baku gave her a full body workout: Abs, arms, lower body, cardio, stretching.  She didn't seem to be a stranger to the gym, but she may have been nervous because everytime M’Baku came close to target specific parts of her body that she needed to watch, she really listened and seemed renewed with purpose.

“Thanks again for the session, you really did a number on me.”  She takes his hand.

“No problem at all, you are a great student!  So is it the same time tomorrow?”

“Sure!  I may be walking funny, but I’m sure you’re used to that effect on people.”

As she left, M’Baku went to his phone, checking to see a snap from you.  It’s a picture of a meal captioned ‘Continental breakfast=TRASH’  He smiled, sending her an SMH text.  Back in his office, his studio door opens and AKoje bursts in, “Yo, that baby girl you were bending over and shit is having car troubles, you got jumper cables?”

M’Baku goes down to survey the scene.  Kenie is long faced before she see’s M’Baku approaching.  

“Hey, M’Baku, I am so sorry.  Your cousin offered your help before I could figure things out.  You don't have to, but I just can't get the damn thing to start.”

“Yeah, lemme get the cables.”  

M;Baku pulls his car in next to hers and pops the hood so start the process.  A couple of turns and she finally has power again.

Looking relieved, she yells out the window, “You are a godsend!  Thank you thank you!”

M’Baku unhooks the cables and comes over to her window, “It was nothing, we can't have you stranded on your first day.”

“I will have to repay you!”

“No, don’t worry about that.”

“Please!  I got you, I won’t take no for an answer.  I’ll think of something.  But for now, I will see you tomorrow”

She pulls off and Akoje is slow clapping.

“What in Hanuman’s name are you doing?”

Akoje stops and laughs, “My my, I should be asking you the same thing!  What was that?!”

M’Baku is confused, “You told me she needed help, so I came to do that.”

Akoje nods, “Mhm, and she is going to come back to do you, trust me.”

“Ayye!  What kind of language is that.  You know that’s not going to happen.  You shoot your shot, ok?”

“Oh I plan to trust, but I actually don't know.  I’m smart but no psychic, but a rocket scientist isn’t needed to judge that she wants that ass man.”

“I'm not stupid.  She isn't the first to come on to me, if she even was, I never entertain that, you know.”

“Yeah except she isn’t ugly or crazy acting.  I’m just telling you to watch your back. As far as handling all that ass, I know she could use your help getting real loooow, and DEEP into those exercises.”  Akoje says with throaty bass in his voice.

M’Baku brushed off Akoje’s talk.  M’Baku is as wild about you as you are about him, so no instagram model is going to take his heart that easily.

Later that day, after going through his appointments, he starts to head home, exhausted and sweaty to the nth degree.  A call comes through on his dash, Mama.

M’Baku clears his throat before picking up.  When his mother calls, he never knows if it is to say hello, how are you, or to cut him down to a nub for not calling or coming around more often and not appreciating her.

“Hello, Mama, what’s up?”  M’Baku says in a cheery voice.

“What’s up?  Is that how you greet you mother?  Try that again.” she says sourly.

M’Baku rolls his eyes, “How are you doing today, mama?”

“Oh, I am doing great, Kuku!”  Renewed with a bubbly personality.  “What are you doing now, my son?”

“I am headed back to the house, probably relaxing for the evening.”

“Ohhh, you work so hard all the time.  You deserve it.  But don’t act like you are 80 years old, you have it so much better than me or your father did at your age.”

M’Baku’s mother was pretty good at building up to a compliment and adding a criticism at the exit door.

“Yes, I know mama.   Did you need something?” he says exasperatedly.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.  Well, I could use some help with this new shelf your father bought but will not read the instructions for.  So now it is some abstract art piece in the middle of my floor.”

“Ok, I can do that.  Maybe I’ll come by this weekend to do it?”

He hears her kiss her teeth, “Eh, you super busy this week or something?  Does the girl have you running around for her, waiting at her hands and feet?”

M’Baku shakes his head, accelerating, “No, mama, she is out of town this week for work.”

“OH!!” she exclaims.  “Then you should take me out!  It’s been so long since you and I had mother-son time alone.  How about that?”

M’Baku thought about this for a beat.  It had been a while, not because he didn't like to see his mother but it’s so busy working and taking care of your own problems before adding on someone else's.  They used to get into some heated discussion over this, especially since being with you, but she seems to have adjusted for the most part.

“Ok, that sounds good then.  I’ll call you when I have the time.”

“Ok, Kuku.  Muah, I love you!”

“Love you too, mama.”

Making it back inside, he is greeted yet again with the mess left from the day before.  Yet again, he is too tired to even deal.  Whipping his shirt off, he adds it to the pile of mess and makes his way upstairs to shower.  As the water ran down his head to his body, he thought about his day.  He will have to cancel with Cheryl because of his mom, so for once, thank Hanuman for her calling.  Getting his washcloth lathered, he worked on his chest and torso.  And that girl, Kenie.  Something seemed different about her than others he had seen.  Neck and face done, he works his sensitive areas and crevices.  Clearly she flirted, but that wasn’t it.  She was really interesting for some reason.  He turns the cold water up some to rinse off, shaking his head as the water cascaded down.  

Then the thought that he hadn’t heard from you all day came into his mind, so he hops out of the shower and makes his way to towel off and goes to the bedroom.  Picking his phone off the charge, he looks at his messages.  Nothing, not a single text or missed call from you.  It’s only 6 pm so your day might not be quite over yet, but you send a text to her just asking what’s up.  Walking away he gets a text almost immediately from you.  

Yeah, fine but we need to talk. 

*Part 4*

Other Works:

King Kil’mawalls

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

T’akia

Commencement Day

The Ragtag

@sweetpeachjones  @hairhattedghooligan @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @universalbri

[otayuri-ficrec]

Any angst with a happy ending recs? Doesn't matter if they're a wip, the longer the better! :D

hey there! I hope you’ll like these, I had a blast reading these, the best thing to do on my birthday!:)

Angst with a happy ending

Watch The Young Hearts Fade by kiazareni - 101,6k, T

Summary:

Yuri is forced to deal with a lot of issues from his past, when after five years of silence, Otabek is suddenly back in his life. It might be just what he needs to move on, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard, and sometimes, Otabek doesn’t make it easy either, especially when Yuri’s feelings for him resurface. He refused to go down that road once before, but he is not sure he is strong enough this time.

He had long unfollowed most of his skater friends, Otabek among them, because he didn’t want to see the pictures of practices and ice shows, the videos of a new jump they’d learnt, or group photos during competitions he was no longer part of. It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know about Otabek being in Russia, but it still would have been nice to get a little warning somehow.

He thought about texting him, just to make it clear that he had meant to say hello, to explain that he was just surprised to see him, before he remembered that he didn’t even have his number since he deleted it five years ago

Neon Pink Motorcycle by goldheart - 74,7k, M

Summary:

There are certain moments in Yuri Plisetsky’s life that he likes to forget happened at all. The time they were chased from the apartment, the landlord angrily spitting and waving threateningly at them when his mother couldn’t produce enough money for rent. Babushka’sfuneral. The first time he fell in competition.

He cannot forget that, under the black band he wears around his wrist like a shield, his soulmark may as well be nonexistent.

Three Cheers for Five Years by kaywaeeve - 35,8k, T (WIP)

Summary:

“As much as I wish we could move on from this, I am not strong enough to bear the fact that I have hurt the one person I love more than life itself. Baby, I am so, so sorry. Words can’t even begin to describe it. I want you to be able to forget the accident and keep on living. This time, I am not going to stand in your way. My Yura, you were the best thing that’s ever happened to me, hurting you was no way to repay for the happiness you have given me. Please, know that I will never, ever move on from you. My body and soul are yours forever.” On their five-year anniversary, Otabek Altin and Yuri Plisetsky get into a motorcyle accident, which injures Yuri to a point where he is no longer able to skate professionally. Driven by guilt and regret, Otabek ends the relationship over a letter that Yuri finds when he wakes up, in the hospital. Knowing the Ice Tiger of Russia, will he really settle for that?

I hope these 3 will do it, if anyone has any recommendations, feel free to send them in! :)

[drunkatfenway-blog]

My Weekend in Las Vegas

Before I begin to write this I would just like to say this is a simple blog about a dark day in American history in which I happened to be in the same city enjoying the nightlife just the same as the nearly 43 million people who travel to Las Vegas annually. My sole purpose of this is so anybody can get a feeling of one person’s first hand experience in the city the Weekend of October 1, 2017. Weather it’s today tomorrow, or 650 years from now, for historical purposes I give everybody permission to use this work.

I departed from Boston to Las Vegas on early Thursday September 28, 2017. Like many other people I just wanted to travel to Vegas to see some shows gamble on some games drink some beers and go swimming. With autumn fast approaching in New England I was very excited to travel 5 and a half hours west to the middle of the Nevada desert in Las Vegas. My weekend went on like most people’s in Las Vegas. I spent time gambling on football, playing roulette, watching the Red Sox and enjoying the outdoors. The weather was beautiful anywhere from 85-95 degrees everyday. Nothing but sun and no clouds in the sky. One great part of Las Vegas is everything is fun. For those who have never been there or are looking back, you can walk around drinking open containers of alcohol. Marijuana is fully recreational & legal though, it must be consumed in a private area (very loosely enforced, nobody ever gets in trouble for smoking pot). Nightclubs and bar rooms are open 24 hours a day for the most part. Nothing really stops. Gambling, strip clubs, and call girls are around you no matter where you are in the city. It’s the city’s economy and it’s why people from all over the world travel to this amazing city.

October 1st started like many other Sundays in the city with everybody waking up after a long Friday and Saturday. The Las Vegas strip was covered with fans from all over wearing their favorite NFL jerseys and drinks in hand getting ready for the 10 a.m. games (there was actually a 6:30 a.m. game between the Saints and Dolphins, so the city was already alive for America’s newest pastime Football). As the day went on and the town enjoyed itself restaurants, bars, casinos, and sportsbooks, were filled to near capacity. The day progressed and before you know it all the games were ending. And their was only one left. The Seattle Seahawks were playing host to the Indianapolis Colts at 5:30 p.m. Vegas time. At this time after a long morning and afternoon of drinking and gambling I headed to my hotel room right in the middle of the Las Vegas Strip, The Flamingo. The Flamingo is pretty much in the middle of town. Dead smack in the middle of everything. It was the first popular resort casino Vegas had, starting the trend of building bright, beautiful buildings, and topping the previous. I relaxed in the comfort of my room and enjoyed the game for a little while in some peace & quiet. I took a quick shower and headed down to the bar right as the game was heading to the end. I went to a bar right in the casino outside of the sportsbook where I was getting a full recap of all the past days game via the many tvs that donned the neon pink walls. This is where things started to get strange. Being a late Sunday night I didn’t particularly find it odd that one of the televisions had the news on. Almost every television in Vegas has a sports game on or a replay of a past game on. But, it was late and the weekend was coming to an end. As the current tourists prepared to leave new ones would be coming in. It was breaking news on Fox 5 Las Vegas “Active shooter on the Las Vegas Strip” the screen read. Now my thinking at the time was that it was casual gang activity or a quarrel between 2 people and somebody got shot and took off. Being that it was the only live thing on it garnered the interest of a few fellow patrons at the same bar as I. About 10-15 minutes later I took a drink over to play some slot machines. That’s when I started to realize something was different. CNN took over a television screen reporting on the story. CNN is one of America’s largest national news networks. They began to report on it but nothing was really out yet. They were still just saying there was an active shooter in the area. No note of casualties, and not really any specifics from law enforcement or anybody of note. At this time pretty much everybody in the Flamingo Casino was aware of the situation but had no detail. As I enjoyed myself playing video poker and drinking complimentary alcoholic beverages the news began to develop. 2 People reportedly shot said Fox 5 Vegas and CNN. Still no word on shooter. Reminder: The Casino was very full. Every table was just about full. People were drinking and enjoying themselves as they became aware of this situation at the top of the Las Vegas Strip. But hotel security seemed very restless. These aren’t rent a cops either. Caesars Resorts security has handguns and are pretty much Police Officers. They were pacing and checking on people and were very noticeable. That’s when it came out next on the news. 20 people shot at a country music concert at Mandalay Bay. This was the first they said the exact location and event of where and what exactly was happening. 20 was a very crazy number. It also said at least 2 people were dead. Now the party I was with (1 other person) had plans to head in that direction and go into many casinos and bar rooms and have as much fun as possible. Drinking, good food, and enjoying Las Vegas were the only things on the agenda.

The time was about 12:15 a.m. Pacific Time. I first called my mother back home in Massachusetts to let her now that before the story got crazy and she woke up to crazy reports that we were alright. 3:15 a.m. Eastern time for you guys who don’t know. When I went to leave the Flamingo Casino we were told by a Las Vegas Police Officer that we were on lockdown. Nobody was to leave or enter no matter what the circumstances. He said that this was the procedure throughout all of the casinos in the city at this time.We felt grateful because we were planning to head next door, and being locked out of our casino would’ve been tough. As time went on the crowd grew more restless as well as security. The worst part was the numbers on the screen slowly began to rise. After about a half hour it was 100% viral on all forms of social media. Casino patrons were on the phone trying to reach people and security grew more and more uptight. A little after 1 a.m. Vegas time one of the bartenders told us his bar was closing per order of management. We quickly grabbed our drinks and headed to another bar in the casino. 2-3 minutes later that bartender told me he was no longer allowed to serve drinks. Next thing we know the tables begin to close and they’re kicking people off of the slot machines.The machines never close in Vegas. Still wanting to drink and still full of energy we retreated to a small general store to grab some cold 22 ounce beers in there. When looking outside at the always bright and beautiful Las Vegas Strip it was black, the first time I’ve ever seen it that dead, and I’ve visited here a handful of times. There were no cars other than police cruisers and ambulances. People from other hotels were mad they couldn’t leave and the scene was getting a bit loud. After not much changing inside and getting dozens of phone calls from back east we decided to retreat to the room for the night and watched the news in the hotel room. 20 people confirmed dead was the last number I remember hearing before falling asleep.

After only about 4-5 hours of sleep I restlessly woke up to hundreds of text messages and about 110 phone calls. I didn’t even know that many people knew I was out of town. I told basically nobody other than immediate family and a handful of friends. As I turned on the television and checked my phone I was STUNNED. 59 dead. Over 500 shot. A man perched on the 32nd floor of Mandalay Bay sprayed thousands of rounds onto concert goers. For no reason at all. I quickly got dressed and wanted to check out the scene. Walking down Las Vegas Boulevard was very eerie. Police were everywhere. The always energetic and lively Strip was as quiet as could be. The weather was beautiful. But the feeling was slow and sad.

Everybody knew what had happened. Casino signs were giving directions on where civilians could go and donate blood. 800 numbers were blasted all over the Strip to help family members locate lost or unaccounted for loved ones. As I walked up you couldn’t go more than 100 feet without Las Vegas Metro Police standing by assisting the people and visitors of Las Vegas. I was headed to Mandalay Bay because I wanted to see the terrible acts that wrecked havoc on a city I know and love dearly. From about a half a mile away you could see the window the perpetrator shot out of. It was solid black on the very beautiful gold structure of Mandalay Bay. Photographers and media members were everywhere. Spanish and English reporters. I approached Mandalay Bay from the neighboring Luxor hotel. Las Vegas Boulevard was shut down to traffic for about 4 city blocks, So I walked in the street. It was strange walking in the street because Las Vegas Blvd. is massive, 4-5 lanes in most parts. Jaywalking could actually get you killed when traffic is flowing. I took photos and saw the terrible scene that so many who perished just a few hours before had been at. The concert stage just on the other side of the street. A gas station that was clearly evacuated with cars still in the gas lanes, blocked off by police tape. Hundreds were down there observing just as I had and there wasn’t a word being said. No music playing, no street performers. As terrible as it was to be there I figured it needed to see the deadliest mass shooting in U.S. history in person. I walked into Mandalay Bay through the connecting Luxor as this was the only way to enter. The Shops at Mandalay were all closed that dreary Monday morning. It felt empty. The city in the desert that never sleeps was well at rest inside of Mandalay Bay.

Hundreds of news reporters and what felt like thousands of police officers held the scene. The whole mood in the city just felt empty. And not in the good way. Vegas is the kind of city where even if you lose a boatload of money and are hungover for the majority of the week, when you come home your trip is always well worth it. Simply put: it’s Disney World for adults. And to say the feeling was sad is an understatement. I flew out at 11:59 Monday Night. The whole airport was silent 24 hours after the shooting. It didn’t feel like Vegas anymore. It felt dampened. And I can’t even begin to imagine what those who lost or have harmed loved ones are feeling.

My point in writing this wasn’t to be political or anything of that nature. I just wanted to leave a first hand account of my night in a casino not too far from Mandalay and walking to Mandalay the next day. As of Tuesday Night there’s 59 people dead (including the shooter). 500 People recovering from injuries, some life threatening. The largest mass shooting in American History, surpassing The Pulse Night Club shooting in Orlando just a mere 15 and a half months ago. The 2 behind that? Sandy Hook elementary school shooting in December of 2012 and Virginia Tech in April of ‘07. The fearful underlying feeling I take from this tragic event? That some day, somebody, somewhere, in the future is going to read what I’ve just written. And The Harvest Music Festival shooting in Las Vegas will no longer be the #1 deadliest shooting in United States history. It’s gotten to the point where as a culture these despicable, tragic events are all too common, and there seems to be nothing as a culture or a country we can do.

-Rob O’Shea

Tuesday October 3, 2017

[thatothercosplayer]

Re:Blaster/83 2nd Movement : Last Divination

Hikari sat forwards in the cockpit, flicking several switches before leaning back and flipping another few behind him. He pulled down the mic on his headset. “This is Green Earth to flight tower. You copy?” He asked, as mecha’s engines began to whir to life. 

“Hearing ya loud and clear, Green Earth! Hey! Shoot those Jark Matter bastards down, alright?” Ikura shouted over the intercom. 

((I suggest you listen to this, reader.))

“Pre-flight checks are complete. Open the gates, Ikura.” Hikari coldly answered, ignoring her comments. Hitting a switch above him, the shutters on the mech’s main cameras opened up. The panels on the displays filled with information, showing the current placement on known charts of the area, as well as his current heading, the system’s output, and other important information a pilot needed to know. 

“Roger that! Good hunting, Green Earth!” 

The launch deck’s gates slowly opened, revealing the reaches of space beyond. Hikari narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The fleet of ships weren’t going to wait for them to get ready. It was do or die time. 

“Green Earth, launching!” He declared, grabbing the joysticks on either side of him and pushing them forwards. There was a jolt as the mecha shot forwards, propelled by the rocket sled it was standing atop. The sled reached the end of its track and it threw the black framed giant forwards, causing the pilot to grit his teeth. The rows of switches behind him receded into the walls as the 360 display booted up, showing the rest of the fleet’s forces deploying, with him in the lead. 

“Rogue Squadron, this is Green Earth. I don’t have much to say....go out there, tear those aliens up, and come home in one peace. Green Earth out!” 

He kicked the afterburners into overdrive, the mecha flying forwards. It extended an arm, a beam saber igniting out of the top of the arm. 

Ahead, the Jark Matter forces, with their imposing silhouettes, spiked shoulders, and mono-eyes swarmed forth in hordes, looking to eradicate all life on Earth.

Not today.

Green Earth met its first foe, stabbing the saber through the mecha’s head and laying its free hand on its chest. The pilebunkers embedded in it’s hand went off, crushing the cockpit. It severed the head, grabbing the body and chucking it at another nearby grunt suit. 

His comms crackled. “Hikari! I whipped up something brand new for you that should give you the edge.” He furrowed his brow, glancing over the dashboard to see if there was some new feature she’d put in to better augment his piloting skills. 

“It’s called the TOQ System!” She declared proudly. 

Green Earth split another mech down the middle before kicking its remains away. It raised its beam saber, slicing up a missle that had been fired at it. The two halves spiraled behind it, exploding and lighting it up in silhouette. 

“TOQ System? What the hell is that?” Hikari asked, somewhat frustrated she was cutting off his focus from the allied chatter and surrounding area. 

“It stands for Time Oscillation Quantum System! It’ll displace you in time so you can get the drop on your foes!”  

He growled. “Just get to the point!” 

“You can warp around and be stealthier. Sheesh. You’re no fun.” She signed off, the muffled chatter of ally units returning to full volume. A cap on the right joystick unfolded, revealing a green button.

Upon pressing it, the black paneling of the Green Earth opening up to reveal neon green lights. The eyes flashed blue, and it disappeared. The Jark Matter units that had surrounded Green Earth glanced around in confusion, before one seized up and exploded, the haze from the destruction clearing some only for aquamarine eyes to pierce through the screen. 

Green Earth dashed forwards, igniting the other beam saber and beginning to slice and dice its way through enemy forces. Elsewhere, the rest of the allied forces were struggling to keep up- the mass produced frames, while having strength in numbers, had inexperienced pilots at the wheel. As a result, they were getting torn up....

Until a new contender arrived. 

A sharp, knife-like ship jumped out of warp, throwing enemy forces into disarray as they maneuvered around it in an attempt to not get skewered. Five flaps opened up on the top, kanji painted across each one that read “マジスカロボ隊” (translator’s note: Majisuka Robo-tai, “tai” meaning squadron).

Five suits erupted out of them, leaping forwards into the fray.

“You didn’t think I’d let you hog all the action, did you?” A cool, feminine voice rang over the human comms. 

“Sis!? What are you doing here?!” Hikari shouted, Green Earth looking up from impaling yet another Jark Matter grunt. 

The pilot- Sado- smirked. “Heh...what else? Saving the world. Alright, girls! Let’s show these bastards from outer space how we do it back home!” 

The first suit- the leader- was white, and it had extra thrusters on the back. It was a perfect design, all around- capable of doing anything. It held its arms out, energy arcing between the two fists. It tensed up, before striking a karate pose and running forwards (somehow, despite not touching solid ground) and kicking a Jark Matter mech in the head, before following up with a rocket propelled punch. Blood red text on its shoulder read “00 -  サド “ (Translator’s note: Sado)

Energy coalesced into the shape of a sphere in its palm, before releasing. The white mech grabbed a colossal hammer off its back, swinging it like a baseball bat and smashing the energy sphere, which careened forth...right through several more grunts.

“Grr! Get the fuck out of my way!” 

Another Majisuka unit grabbed the head of a Jark Matter mech, its arm pivoting around several times before it launched the grunt forwards into a horde of mechs, using the thrown one as an imprompteau javelin. The sharp head pierced through not one, not two, but three units, all of them erupting into flames. The thrown unit was stunned, having taken a beating after flying through three of its allies.

This mech that had thrown it was salmon pink, and while smaller in stature it had plenty of thrusters covering its body. In blood red lettering on the shoulder, it read ‘01 - 渋谷 ‘ (Translator’s note; Shibuya). Not only was it maneuverable, but it was able to add some extra power to its attacks. It wasn’t armed with any weapons...just its fists. “Tch! I’m not done with you yet! Get back here!” 

She shot forwards, flying above the stunned suit, before heel dropping onto it, all the thrusters on the suit angling downwards. The suit was torn in half, and the attack continued, going through several more suits that were also obliterated.

Another one flew forwards, colored wine red. It had gigantic, bird-like wings and a segmented tail. The tail broke up into parts, which flew apart individually and began firing at every Jark Matter unit in sight. White lettering on its shoulder read “02 - トリゴヤ, “ (Translator’s note: Torigoya). 

“Aha...ahaha.....ahahaha! Wel~come baaack~” A cackle resounded over the comms as the bits shot up every foe, locking onto new targets with each successive kill.

This mech’s hands and feet were covered in sharp talons, which lit up to reveal they were actually beam talons. Spinning dramatically, wings spreading to their full width, it flew into the fray, rearing its legs up and grabbing another Jark Matter mech by the shoulders with its feet. It somersaulted, releasing and throwing the suit away. The wings closed up, forming a cone. Raising its arms, the crimson mecha clasped its hands together, forming the tip of a drill. It spun rapidly, piercing through its quarry and coming out, wings unfurling as the suit exploded behind it. 

The next one was black, with a solitary white cross painted on its chest. It seemed plain...at least, at first glances. It had an extended thruster compliment, making it look rather angelic. It became enveloped in a violet aura, the eyes flashing. The unit silently raised its head, before blasting off, becoming a living comet. It tore through Jark Matter units in rapid succession, a chain of destruction following in its wake. White text on its shoulder read “03 -  ブラック“ (Translator’s note: Black.) 

The last mech, colored dark green, had a rather sinister aura to it. It was covered in carbon scoring, smears of oil, and even the residue of the strange, neon fluids that Jark Matter used to fuel its mecha. It twitched as it erratically flew about the battlefield. “Hey....are you mad?” 

Snatching a Jark Matter grunt, it flew towards one of the enemy carriers, slamming it facefirst into the hull. It dragged the enemy suit along the outside. “Kyahahahahah! Can you handle the heat?” Declared the suit’s pilot as it deftly avoided the anti-air fire being directed at it. It smashed the suit into the command deck of the ship, getting bathed in flames as the ship began to go down. The stained white text on its shoulder read “04 -  ゲキカラ“ (Translator’s note: Gekikara).

“What the...” Hikari let out...he shook his head. Whatever! His sister and her friends seemed to be turning the tide. 

“This is Green Earth! I’m going in!” He shouted, pressing forwards on both joysticks. He cut a hole into one of the ships, flying inside and skidding to a halt. He’d entered a staging area, where plenty more Jark Matter units were waiting. They all turned their heads. 

Hikari rolled his neck, popping his fingers before grabbing the controls again. 

Green Earth lunged forwards, cross slicing through one unit before tackling the one behind it, driving a beam saber into its chest. Using the momentum, it hand vaulted off the floor, kicking away another grunt before driving a blade through it. Landing on its head, Green Earth angled its thrusters so it would spin around, knocking away more grunts Matrix style, before pushing off, jumping off the ceiling, and landing on the chest of another grunt, using it to grind across the bay and slashing through anything that got in its way. It Kickflipped the mech before doing an Acid Drop into a 360 Impossible, Ollying out of the ship right as it exploded. 

It was pretty clear to Jark Matter their invasion of Earth was a bad idea- they’d never had a loss this staggering. Regardless, they pressed on, releasing more grunts.

“Grr...they just don’t stop coming! How many of these fuckers are there!?” Shibuya shouted.

“Lemme help thin ‘em out!” A volley of missiles flew forwards, each smashing into a Jark Matter grunt and killing them. The source? Another mech that was colored silver, which was armed to the teeth. It had launchers mounted on both shoulders, on its arms, and on its legs. Its back had extra thrusters, on which even more missile racks were mounted. It released the rocket launcher it had been holding, and spread its arms and legs. Panels all over its body opened up, revealing...even more missile racks. 

“You guys haven’t seen nothing yet! I’m about to show them the Macross Missile Massacre! Taste the fury of the one, the only, Mecha Professor, Ikura-hakase!” The pilot declared. “Fire, fire, fire! IKEEEEEEEEEEEE!” 

Every single missile rack unloaded, releasing a gigantic wall of missiles that were so many, I can’t even begin to describe how many there were! Holy shit! That’s a lot! 

They spiraled and twisted in and out of sight, chasing grunts down and smashing into them, detonating and lighting up the battlefield like Tokyo at night. 

“LAUNCH THE BIG ONE!” 

At her command, a gigantic missile fired from the human fleet’s main ship, about the size of a small cruiser. The silver mech ejected all of its empty missile racks (save for the internally mounted ones) and flew to meet it, landing on it and surfing it like it was riding a wave. “Yeeehaw! Let’s see how you like this! The one...the only! Ikura Deluxe! It’s the order of the day! Bon appetit, ya slimy bastards! Kozue....this one’s for you!” 

The mech dramatically pointed, the missile aiming for the Jark Matter mothership. “Go!” 

A close-up of the missile.

“Go!” 

A close-up of the silver mech.

“GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

A close-up of the pilot, showing a cutaway of her helmet as she yelled. 

The missile had punched all the way through the front lines, where everyone else was, and reached the back, where the enemy fleet’s leader was.

The missile slammed into the mothership, a gargantuan explosion erupting as a result, sending out shockwaves that tossed the other Jark Matter ships out of formation and throwing any nearby mechsuits into disarray. The silver mech was tossed into the explosion, and it self-destructed. 

As a result of the explosion, the entire front half of the ship had been decimated; however, it was still operational. 

“CHIEF!” Hikari shouted, sounding legitimately distressed. Sure, she was annoying, but that didn’t mean she had to die! “Goddammit....goddammit! You didn’t have to sacrifice yourself!” 

He began to shake with anger, fists tightening around the Green Earth’s controls. “I’ll kill ‘em all! Every last one of them! I’ve lost enough friends to Jark Matter...no more! NO MORE!” 

The Green Earth’s neon green lights turned red as Hikari became blinded with anger, and it became consumed with overwhelming power. It tore forwards, rampaging its way to the back of the Jark Matter fleet. 

Compared to how he usually piloted, which was calm, analytical, and precise, now Hikari’s piloting was uncontrollable, Green Earth careening around as it tore into anything it could get its hands on. 

Additionally...he wasn’t as aware of his surroundings as he usually was. Which was why a Jark Matter grunt was able to sneak up on him. It lined its shot up, aiming right for the cockpit. It pulled the trigger...

KABOOM! 

The Jark Matter grunt exploded, a silver fighter flying through the destruction. “Hey, kid! Watch your ass!” Shouted the pilot.

“C-chief!? You’re alive?!” Hikari stammered.

“Of course I am! I’ve got too much shit to do to just die like that! Though, I gotta admit, that would’ve been pretty cool. Heh.” The fighter flew in closer. “Anyways, you might wanna clench. I’m about to ride you!” 

“Wait, what--” 

The silver fighter lined up behind Green Earth, before folding up and docking with the mech. The lights across it returned to green, as the silver fighter changed its hues to match the rest of the mech. “Docking complete! Hey, he’s still single, just so you know!”

“C-Chief, cut that out!” He demanded. 

“Right, right. Forwards! We got a final boss to defeat!” She declared.

Laser cannons sprung up, deploying over the Green Earth’s shoulders. 

“Right...let’s go! This is for all my friends....both living and dead! We’re gonna come home today!” Hikari declared.

“Fuck yeah! That’s what I wanna hear! Go get ‘em, kid!” Ikura shouted.

The Green Earth sped forth again, bearing straight for the mothership. It was tailed by multiple grunts, which formed up to chase after it.

The Green Earth dove into the mothership, flying past bulkheads, crossbeams, and other structural nonsense that would just be an obstacle during this final assault. You remember the run on the 2nd Death Star in Return of the Jedi, right? It’s like that! The grunts were unable to keep up, smashing into the various parts of the ship and exploding, damaging it even further.

Occasionally, it had to cut through several walls, but it finally reached the core. Conveniently, it was shaped like a giant arena, with the core of the ship being in a giant column that hummed as it ran.

Inside, a SUPER EVIL looking mech awaited Green Earth, and it had a super big cape that looked really dumb because it was fluttering like it was in the wind despite being in space, which is a vaccuum. I mean, fine I guess it looks cool but it’s dumb.

It tossed off the cape, which fell to the ground- this is really stupid I hate this- and it pulled out a beamsaber, which, when ignited, became a massive broadsword. How the fuck does that work? This guy’s trying too hard to be cool.

The two mechs clashed, and a comm line opened between them.

“Foolish Earthling! I, Zhen, the ultimate conquerer-”  “Hey! Asswipe! Shut up!” Shouted Ikura.

“What!? You dare interrupt me, the glorious leader of-” 

“BITCH, I SAID SHUT UP.” She yelled.

Immediately he was silenced. “Quit your yammering and fight! You think we give a shit!?” Hikari shouted. 

“Very well, then...let us dance!” Zhen cried out, laughing as the two mechs rocketed around, beam sabers repeatedly clashing. Green Earth fired at Zhenmech with its shoulder cannons, scoring a few hits now and again.

At some point the Green Earth, damaged and barely functioning, drove its beam saber through the Final Boss’ chest.

“What was that you called me? Foolish?” Hikari commented. “Well, looks like you’re the fool...’cause you’re dead.” He smirked.

“Hey, kid?” Ikura said.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t quit your day job.” 

Zhenmech exploded, and the explosion also knicked the core, which happened to be made out of a super volatile substance known to us humans as Explodium. Immediately it erupted into flames, and Green Earth began the journey out of the ship, flames licking at its heels as it dodged and maneuvered its way back out. 

However, the path seemed...different. Maybe it was just the alien nature of the ship, but the path had changed.

“How are we going to get out of here!? We’re gonna die at this rate! Dammit!” Hikari yelled. “We’ve made it this far...just to lose at the end!”

Ikura slowly lifted her head. It was like...she was in a trance. She saw an angel appear to her...it was Kozue! 

 “This way...”

“Hikari.” She said, in an uncharacteristically calm voice. Fuck, that was a big word. 

“What?” He asked.

“Fly up.” She said. 

“What?” 

“Just do it!” 

“If you say so...” 

The Green Earth angled upwards, holding out its beam sabers to tear through the hull.

The Green Earth was rocked as it flew through the ship’s husk...but it finally emerged, triumphantly escaping as the ship was consumed from the inside out, before finally being consumed in one gigantic, satisfying, climactic explosion that was really good and super cool to look at. 

Also, there was probably like, a really triumphant fanfare or something.

Okay, I’ve burnt out on this drabble. Hoped you enjoyed reading it.

@boukenuniverse

[alexdrawsagain]

was supposed to upload this ages ago......

92 Truths                                

Tagged by  @willhernandezdraws​

I am not as open about my life as some would like. However, I feel sorta comfortable with these since you have no idea if i’m telling the truth or not.

I love that ambiguity.....                                                            

Rules: Write 92 truths about yourself then tag other people

LAST…

[1] Drink: Great Value Apple Juice

[2] Phone call: People call me.

[3] Text message: The phone company texted me that i paid my phone bill

[4] Song you listened to: Long hot summer night: Jimi Hendrix

[5] Time you cried: N/A

HAVE YOU EVER…

[6] Dated someone twice: No

[7] Been cheated on: No

[8] Kissed someone and regretted it: No.

[9] Lost someone special: Yes.

[10] Been depressed: Yes. However, I can’t spend my time feeling sorry for myself and often have to push through it to get $#!t done. It feels like running a marathon but you’re exhausted at the beginning. Or piloting a jalopy of a spaceship that sputters and throws sparks throughout the journey.

Sometimes it gets better. And there are many days where i’m fine and then it hits me like a sack of bricks.

[11] Gotten drunk and thrown up: Never gotten drunk.

LIST THREE FAVOURITE COLORS…

[12]  Green

[13] Neon Blue

[14] Dark Red

IN THE LAST YEAR…

[15] made new friends: @willhernandezdraws @therandomninjakitty @the-solar-surfer.

[16] fallen out of love: No.

[17] laughed until you cried: More like until I started coughing.

[18] found out someone was talking about you: Fight me in the streets you wuss.

[19] met someone who changed you: Yes.

[20] found out who your true friends are: All the time

[21] kissed someone on your Facebook list: No

GENERAL…

[22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: All of them except for Will and Dre. I now use a backup facebook account to talk to them.

[23] do you have any pets: No.

[24] do you want to change your name: No. But I do like it when people use my full name for a change.

[25] what did you do for your last birthday: Ate some cake and went back to work on chores.

[26] what time did you wake up: 9:00 a.m.

[27] what were you doing at midnight last night: Passing out while reflecting upon the changes my life is going through.

[28] name something you cannot wait for: This list could be a mile long. But the biggest thing on the list is getting started on the drawing for the third issue. Laying out all the groundwork is taking longer than I thought.

[29] when was the last time you saw your mother: Today.

[30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: That I could have my own place that I own.

[31] what are you listening to right now: The Dance of Hours from Fantasia

[32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: I don’t think so.

[33] something that is getting on your nerves: Another mile long list. Loud drunk people who party until 2a.m. blaring their music next door is a good start.

[34] most visited website: Tumblr. Or Amazon to do a lot of virtual window shopping

[35] elementary: Got in trouble a lot for daydreaming and being called an underachiever.

[36] high school: Got way better and way worse at the same time.

[37] college:  I have no idea how to describe this. A rollercoaster? A non stop exhaustion iron man race? A bunch of new experiences. Severe disappointment. Leveling up art skills. Discovering new art? Sadness. Just a lot of stuff.

[38] hair color: Black.

[39] long or short hair: Long enough to put my fingers through.

[40] do you have a crush on someone: No.

[41] what do you like about yourself: My hair now that i finally grew it out to a length i always wanted.

[42] piercings: None

[43] blood type: Red

[44] nickname: Everybody calls me Alex

[45] relationship status: single.

[46] zodiac sign: keep your witchcraft.

[47] pronouns: He/him

[48] fav tv show: Pushing Daisies

[49] tattoos: Hell no.

[50] right or left hand: Right.

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

FIRST…

[51] surgery: Some stitches.

[52] piercing: None.

[53] best friend: I have no idea.

[54] sport: frisbee.

[55] vacation: Mexico

[56] pair of trainers: Something that had lights in them.

RIGHT NOW…

[57] eating: finished eating breakfast.

[58] drinking:  apple juice

[59] I’m about to: go outside

[60] listening to: the dance of hours again

[61] waiting for: My motivation to kick in.

=--------------------------------

[62] want:

[63] get married: First I have to find the lady, dude.

[64] career: Comic book artist and writer.

WHICH IS BETTER…

[65] hugs or kisses: I’ll take both but i’ll be honest, i don’t really hug anyone outside of requisite times of the year and family gatherings.

[66] lips or eyes: Eyes.

[67] shorter or taller: I’d love a lady to be shorter than me since most of the ladies around me seem to wanna date sequoia trees. But Jack Kirby’s stories of a shorter superhero being in a loving relationship with an amazon of a woman have warmed me up to the idea of a taller woman considerably. Also Greg and Rose.

[68] older or younger: Either but within reason.

[69] romantic or spontaneous: Both.

[70] nice arms or nice stomach: Both.

[71] sensitive or loud: I honestly do not know the answer to this one.

[72] hook up or relationship: I’m a relationship man. People are not paper plates you use once and toss out the next morning.

[73] troublemaker or hesitant: I’d like someone who is restrained in polite company but when it’s the two of us we’ll be two hell raisers blasting AC/DC and freaking out the norms at 2a.m.

HAVE YOU EVER…

[74] kissed a stranger:  No

[75] drank hard liquor: No

[76] lost glasses/contact lenses:  Yes. I thought someone stole my glasses but they were actually wedged inside my locker.

[77] turned someone down: No.

[78] sex on first date?: No thanks.

[79] broken someone’s heart?: No....? I mean if it was someone who liked me but never said anything and I never knew about it I guess that’s a possibility.

[80] had your own heart broken?: Let’s not get into that right now......

[81] been arrested?: I’ve been in the back of a squad car once. But that was for my own protection rather than because I was being arrested.

[82] cried when someone died?: Yes.

[83] fallen for a friend?: I don’t want to answer this......

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

[84] yourself?: My personal creed is that nobody is going to do my work for me. Whether that be chasing dreams or doing things that are difficult for me. Meaning I have nobody but myself to blame for my success or failures.

[85] miracles?: I believe in luck and coincidence.

[86] love at first sight?: No.

[87] Santa Claus?: No. Even as a kid no matter how much I wanted to believe in it. I knew for a fact my parents got me my stuff. They didn’t lie to me. They just asked what I wanted and often bought it in front of me so the belief system wasn’t there at the beginning. I do like the idea of Santa as a mythological figure though..

[88] kiss on the first date?: I would totally be down for that but the problem is getting the first date. And i think that both parties need to be on the same page for that. 

[89] angels?: Like Q.84, there is no higher power watching out for me. The only one who’s going to get me out of a jam is me.

OTHER…

[90] current best friend’s name: I actually do not know off the top of my head. There are people in the running but I barely see them. Ask me this like 7+ years ago and this would have been easy.

[91] eye color: Dark Brown

[92] favorite movie: Raiders of the Lost Ark.

[clockworkfromspace]

The Book v2 Chapter 8

-the twins head to their Ultra Being class-

Chris walks there

*jeff’s already in his desk, playing with some water floating above it*

-Jolly Johnny and a beat up girl with tears in her eyes appear in front of the class-

Chris: zoey?

-Jolly Johnny turns to their teacher- "Hello there Mr. Taio. This girl here needs a favor from you."

Mr. Taio: Huh!? Who are you!?

"Zoey....McChevy...sir"

Mr. Taio: McChevy.... Related to Chris McChevy?

She nods

Mr. Taio: If you want me to release another spirit, you'd need to give me something in return.

Jolly Johnny: Life for a life?

"N-not him someone else"

Mr. Taio: That will do.

-Jolly Johnny uses Jeff's power to teleport Neon here-

Jolly Johnny: Hi brother.

Chris looks at the girls confused

Jea: What's happening? -she falls asleep-

-Jolly Johnny stabs Neon-

"Ok then"

-he takes out the knife then slits his throat-

-students in the class look horrified-

"WHAT THE HELL"

Jolly Johnny: there ya go.

"Could i see cyberblast please?..."

Mr. Taio: The Cyberclad who recently died? Sure.

"Yes"

-Cyber blast appears as a phantom-

"C-cy?...."

Cy: Zoey? -he looks at his hands- I actually died?

She nods

Cy: Have you told Cheenato and Kelly yet?

"T-they know"

Cy: How well are they taking it?

"V-very well actully..."

Jenifer: Anyone else extremely confused?

sorta

Chris: yes

*popcorn appears in his hand*

-Neon's body vanishes along with Jolly Johnny-

-Jea wakes up-

Mr. Taio: Do the two of you mind? I wish to return to my lesson.

Cy: Where are we Exactly?

keaton city

*pops over to him* i’m jeff

you are?

Cy: You live in Keaton City and you don't know who I am?

no

Jea: That's Cyber blast. One of Skull City's most famous heroes and that girl is Foxy Clockwork. His girlfriend and one of the members of his team.

Jea: They helped fight off the cyberclads years ago.

Jea: But... Why do you look like a ghost?

-she gets a worried look-

Cy: My jobs dangerous enough on it's own. That with the fact that I'm seen as a traitor to my own planet meant I had a high chance of being killed. Guess I couldn't beat the odds.

Jea: A cyberclad did this? There's still bad one's on this planet?

Cy: There's at least one thanks to that guy in the fucking bow tie. (Jolly Johnny)

-Mr. Taio looks at Jeff and Zoey with glowing white eyes-

Mr. Taio: Both of your souls are blinking. One of you will become the Divine Guardian of teleportation at some point.

Mr. Taio: At the moment. Jeff... You are in the lead.

"WHAT"

what?

-he turns back to Zoey- "It's either because he is better or because your other powers are getting in your way"

Mr. Taio: a Divine Guardian's soul is different from most. Their soul glows brightly. Both of yours are slowly fading between a normal soul and a Guardian soul.

"Cy can you teleport as a ghost"

well how do i become one?

Mr. Taio: He cannot. He can vanish, fly quickly, and phase through solid objects but he cannot teleport.

"I protect skull city and i will coutine to do that!"

Mr. Taio: No one truly knows all the rules of becoming a Devine Guardian. I'd suggest you prove that you have better mastered your ability than Zoey has

Mr. Taio: Once you prove you're the best, I'm sure you will become a Divine Guardian. Though to be honest there's nothing that special about it.

still seems awesome

so who are the divine guardians right now?

Mr. Taio: Depending on your power, it will either become easier to control or more powerful. Divine Guardians also reincarnate after death. Their memories are blank at first but slowly come back during adolescents and adult hood.

Mr. Taio: I only know of a few current Divine Guardians.

Mr. Taio: There's me, that guy who was just here, a criminal who's currently locked away at a SCOPE facility, Blue Rebel, and Shadow Walker.

Cy: I'm going back to check on the kids.

-he flies away-

Zoey goes with him

well i guess we got out ultra beings lesson for today. *smirks* you want me to clean up this blood?

Mr. Taio: What blood? [Neon's blood vanished along with his body]

ummm... o-kay...

-the dismissal bell rings-

Chris runs home

-he twins walk to their bus-

*jeff pops into the seat behind the twins* hey

Jenifer: Hey.

that was crazy

why does johnny always put you to sleep *looks at jea*

Jea: How should I know

Jenifer: It's for the best. She's far too innocent to have seen what he did.

Jea: I've seen him do many horrible things in the book.

Jenifer: Seeing him kill some random person in your book is different from seeing him killing his own brother with a knife.

Jea: WHAT!?

Jea: Neon? Noooo he was my favorite character!

Jenifer: Probably shouldn't have said that.

-the bus get to their stop-

-the girls walk to the house but see their dad's car parked out front-

Jenifer: He's home already?

Jenifer: I just realized. Dude, Jeff, you could totally build your own house will your ability. Hell, you could be rich dude.

Jea: Think of what that would do to the economy.

Jenifer: It's just one guy doing it. The economy will be fine

sounds like fun

what should we do first?

-Jenifer pulls up google maps on her phone- We'd need to find a place to build it.

Jea: He'd have to own the land to legally build a house there and we're not old enough to buy property

Jenifer: Shit, she's right

Jenifer: you think that Jolly Johnny guy could help us?

i doubt it but he might

-Jolly Johnny appears looking like a phantom- "What's in it for me?"

i don’t know. whatcha want? he said i might be the divine guardian; is there anything i can do for you when that happens?

Jolly Johnny: Nope. Hmm.... I'll do it and we'll just say that you owe me one. Both of you

Jenifer: So long as it doesn't get me arrested, sure.

ok

already ripped a girl’s heart out so sure

Jolly Johnny: Look at you stealing young girl's hearts like a true lady killer

*busts out laughing*

-Jea walks home-

so... where do you recommend johnny

-he points out a spot near the edge of the city. Its about 40 miles from Skull City while still on one of Keaton High School's bus routes

ok

what now?

Jolly Johnny: I'll go and buy the land. I'll get back to you when I'm done.

-he vanishes-

*looks at jenifer* you gonna help me build it?

Jenifer: What do you expect me to do?

Jenifer: Mr. Godly teleportation

you could help me design the layout

Jenifer: True

Jenifer: Alright.

-Jenifer walks into her house-

Mr. Kon: Hey sweetie, who was that guy you were talking to outside?

Jenifer: a friend from school. Mind if he comes in?

-Mr. Kon looks out the window and examines him- "sure."

-Jenifer walks out onto the porch- "Come on in."

ok *follows jenifer*

Jenifer: Him and... His god father are having a new house built and he asked me to help designing it.

Mr. Kon: Oh cool. A buddy of mine is an architect. I could give him a call if you want.

thanks, but we’re doing it as kind of a family project

Mr. Kon: oh, okay.

Jenifer: Hey dad. How come you're home so early?

Mr. Kon: Day off.

Jenifer: Oh. Okay. -she turns to Jeff- ready to get started?

sure

-the next day-

-saturday-

Jolly Johnny: the land is all yours kid.

awesome!

where would you recommend for me to get the resources?

Jolly Johnny: Sheldon Forest is full of pre-chopped lumber. Some Ultra being goes there whenever he's upset and kills off trees left and right.

that’s no fun

i could just steal a house

or pieces of some and fuse them together

Jolly Johnny: You could do that too I suppose.

Jenifer: What about SCOPE? Surely they'd notice.

Jolly Johnny: SCOPE's anti-teleportation devices are handy but I doubt they'd be much use against Jeff.

Jolly Johnny: Anyways, I'll leave the building to you guys. I own this place but as far as I'm concerned, its all yours.

this is gonna be fun... thanks johnny

Jolly Johnny: No problem. -he walks off-

so... what’s first jenny?

Jenifer: Game room.

oh yeah!

you know... since ur helping, this’ll be ur place, too.

Jenifer: In that case, I'd like my room to have a view of the back yard where we could have a pool.

Jenifer: I guess I could come here during nights that my dad is out late.

if you want, you can just tell him you’re going to bed and then signal me somehow. then i could teleport ya up here

I guess that could work.

Jenifer: *

just call me whenever you have time to come up here

Jenifer: Alright.

-looking at what's already been completed- "This place'll be great for parties."

Jenifer: Best part is, no neighbors.

hell yeah!

-Jea calls Jenifer-

oh i got an idea

Jenifer: Hello? Hold that thought.

-she puts Jea on Speaker-

Jenifer: What were you saying Jeff?

Jea: You're with Jeff? Where are you guys?

i can shift this hill around a bit and make it steeper and we can get one of those infinity pools that looks like it goes forever

Jenifer: Were working on his new house.

yeah she’s with me. why, is that bad?

Jea: It's not bad. I just don't trust you.

oh... thanks. that makes me feel good. *smiles*

Jenifer: He's not gonna kill me or anything Jea. Relax.

Jea: Just keep your guard up

-Jea sends her a text reading "he likes you"-

-Jenifer returns a text saying- "he knows I'm into girls"

Jea [aloud]: does he?

do i what?

-Jea hangs up in a mini panic-

-Jenifer shows him her phone-

what, know you’re into girls? no i didn’t know that. thanks for informing me, i guess?

Jenifer: I've said it before

i don’t pay attention

anyway, about the pool idea

Jenifer: Sounds like a plan to me

nice

you might wanna stand back a bit. this is probably gonna cause a small earthquake!

-she hops up onto a branch of a nearby tree-

"Seems strong enough"

*puts his hands out and begins to concentrate. the hill begins to lose pieces, and then those pieces reform into a cliff, extending the hill about 100 feet, then dropping off*

nice. now we got more room to build.

Chris scratches on jea's door

-jea opens her door-

Jenifer: Sweet

Jea: Hey there Chris

jenny, you can get down now. we should make secret passages through the house that i can use when in snake form

-she picks him up-

Jenifer: Dude, that could lead to some great prankd

Pranks*

He licks her face

Jenifer: We could pretend to have a snake problem if we had any guests over and you could freak them out

Jea: What's with you and licking faces? -she laughs-

*there is a knock on the door*

ok so what else should we add. we got a game room, three bedrooms with bathrooms, a kitchen and a living room.

-Jea goes to answer it-

Jenifer: Mini gym?

Jenifer: I usually don't work out but we could have it just cause

A man pushes her aside and looks for Chris the man grabs him and runs out

sure

Jea: DADDY!

-Mr. Kon comes out of his room and runs after him-

Mr. Kon: HEY! THAT'S NOT YOUR DOG!

-Jea calls Jenifer-

-jenifer answers-

"hello?"

Jea: Some guy stormed into the house, pushed me, and grabbed Chris!

Jea: Dad's chasing him right now.

what’s wrong?

Jenifer: Some asshole pushed my sister and is trying to dog nap Chris

Jenifer: I need you to teleport me home.

oh shit. hold on... *grabs jenifers arm and they both teleport back to jenifers house*

-she looks around. When she spots her father she runs after him-

The man throws a knife at him

*jeff teleports in front of the attacker* boi put my friend down

He pushes him

-the knife barely scratches Mr. Kon's face-

Mr. Kon: the hell?

*teleports chris into jenifers arms and teleports the guy into the sky above jeff*

*jeff teleports up there too and they both just sit there*

excuse me sir

why did you take that dog?

Jenifer [shouting]: Thanks!

He shoots jeff and mr. kon

-she walks back home petting Chris-

Jea: DAD!

*jeff teleports the bullets away*

sir that’s not nice

-Jenifer turns her head-

Chris whimpers

-she looks back at Jea-

you see, if you hurt me, i stop keeping you here

Jenifer: Why'd you shout?

and you fall to your death

Jea: That guy shot at him.

He teleports down and shoots mr. Kon

"That dog is a person and beat up my family"

who are you

"Sam"

sam who?

chris wouldn’t hurt a fly so why would i believe you?

*teleports chris up there with them* chris who is this guy?

"You don't know his past"

Jenifer: 😐😑😐

"A friend from school"

why is he saying you hurt him?

ok well should i put him down or kill him? because he’s annoying the shit out of me

"Put him down"

*looks at sam* are you gonna try to shoot anyone else? if you do i will remove your kidneys and put them where your eyes go.

"O-o"

you can ask chris... that’s not a joke

so are you gonna refrain from shooting at people?

"Yes....."

ok... *they all appear back on the ground*

guys... this is sam

he said he won’t shoot anyone

He runs off

should i bring him back?

or kill him?

Jenifer: I say kill him

Jea: NO KILLING!

what do you say, mr. kon?

Mr.Kon: I don't support murder

ok

i guess i’m not killing him

*whispers to jenifer* yet

Mr. Kon: but you can bring him back though.

*sam appears in front of them*

sam stop running bro

eh i kinda wanna leave. *a metal cage appears in front of the house and sam gets teleported inside*

there ya go

jenifer wanna go back to working on the house?

Jenifer: Sure.

aight *grabs jenifers hand and they teleport back to the hill*

*a gym appears along with an infinity pool* what now?

Jenifer: Now, I guess we're done. Until we want to add more at least

noice, we have our own house now

Chris sleeps in jea's door way

-Mr. Kon texts Jenifer-

Jenifer: Gotta head home.

-Jea picks Chris up and brings him inside so she can close the door-

He groans

-she lays him down beside her bed before going to sleep-

ok. *teleports jenifer home and goes inside the newly constructed house*

He climbs on the end of the bed and sleeps

-the next day, Sunday-

Chris sleeps in

*jeff pops to the front door of the house and knocks on it*

-Jea opens it "Jenny, it's for you."

well, can i come in?

Jea: Oh yeah. Sorry, thought that was implied.

Jea: If I'm being honest, it's kinda strange hearing you ask permission to enter when you'd pop into my room unannounced.

i have some morals... jeez.

Chris groans

Jea: says the guy who literally stole a heart and put it in a girl's shirt.

that’s why i said some... duh... *walks inside*

He falls jea's bed

Jea: What was that thud?

Jenifer: Came from your room. Hey Jeff.

sup

-Jea goes to her room to see what she heard-

Chris groans in pain

Jea: Was that you Chris?

"Ya"

jenny, wanna head up to the store so we can pick out some shit for the game room?

Jenifer: Sure

*grabs her hand and they both vanish, appearing at a furniture store*

Jenifer: Follow me. The best games are in the back.

ok

*follows behind jenifer* we need a really big tv and some awesome chairs!

Jenifer: Indoor theatre?

i think we should go with that but also get a few flat screens

Chris calls jenny

-she answers-

Jenifer: Hello?

"Could i help design?"

Jenifer: Help design what?

Jenifer: Did you mean Jeff's house by any chance?

[toddlazarski]

On Anthony Bourdain, Istanbul, and the Art of Looking at the World

Shepherd Express

In every writer there exists a towering, ever-struggling duality: the desire to be left alone, to your words, books, thoughts, hidden quiet corners of libraries; and the wish to be celebrated, toasted by everyone as the smartest person in the room. From a staggering array of novels, non-fiction, and cookbooks, to a series of popular and acclaimed travel TV shows, Anthony Bourdain achieved both. In grand fashion. And he did so with such an easy grace and badass authenticity, strident but unposturing, always walking through some faraway airport in sunglasses and jeans, a knowing swagger married to selfless curiosity, a seen-it-all, snobby curmudgeon with the the air of - yes, as it’s been said before, appropriately - your coolest uncle. The one with the tats and back porch stories and faraway look in his eye while describing some distant bar, some endless night in Hanoi, another day’s chilli dog. Which is all why you’ll read one million of just this sort of personal tomes. As is the practice of the day, when someone dies, something big happens, one can almost hear the collective laptops the coffeeshopped world over, softly plodding with hastily penned takes. It is an epoch of “let me tell you what this means to me.” So maybe there needn’t be any more Bourdain tributes like there needn’t be any more gun control facebook posts. But there’s a reason chefs, foodies, fans, all of us, really, can’t help themselves with Bourdain. And the desire feels even deeper still with writers.

Simply, he was living our dream: widely published, successful, adored, pervasive, respected, still cool, on the road while the rest of us squirmed stuck in the quicksand of digital glow, all while seemingly never needing to sell out. He made himself a rock star in an era where nobody cares about writers. While Tom Wolfe and Philip Roth can pass to the next world like a ship in the night, with Bourdain co-workers that had never even read him approached my desk on the day of the news with tears. “I’m sorry”’s passed in text message form like a family member had died, like I had known the man, simply because I idolized him.           

It was easy to feel familiarity - you could go along, exploring, discovering, scoffing, smoking, looking, feeling like you were figuring something out about the world with a poet’s removed involvement. I followed, time and again, through countless joints and ventures, not knowing there was another place to even consider starting travel research. I ended up in a multitude of places like Tadich Grill in San Francisco, Eisenbergs in New York, a cacio e pepe spot in Rome, some chicken joint in Brazil. In a pre-smartphone, pre-Uber era, I wandered for hours through uptown New Orleans, backtracking, circling Audubon park, hailing cabs just to futilely beg directions, assisted only by a known street name - Bellecastle - and a vivid memory of his enjoyment of Domilise’s off-the-menu fried shrimp, cheese, and gravy po’ boy.

There has always been a validation in going to the places he’d been, a way of feeling you were doing things right, appropriately appreciating culture, a place. You’d see him at a dive in Chicago and feel smug with satisfaction over your own life’s pursuits. It was an easy extension to think you knew him off camera too. Everyone knew about his reformed bad boy antics, penchant for drunkenness, graceful entry to fatherhood, budding relationship with Asia Argento. “He doesn’t smoke anymore.” We all knew that. “He loves KFC.” And so I feel no need for shame in occasionally blasting an eight piece with mac n’ cheese and biscuits, sitting solo in my car, in a parking lot on Layton, cranking classic rock radio. “He wears Clark’s.” I have three pairs. I could never remember the name of his new show. And it didn’t matter, there he was, in my living room, showing me someplace in Africa I’ll surely never go, illuminating what I did wrong, misunderstood about Detroit.   

Practically, this is why suicide seemed so wrong. He had it all, but mostly he had perspective. Realistically, it is a reminder: You have no idea what’s going on in another human being. You don’t understand your own brain, let alone somebody else’s. By now we all at least know the “selfish” trope is hooey. But if you’ve been through it, close to it, if the suicide of my best friend, at the age of 25, taught me anything, it’s that you can devote your personal life to pondering the matter, study the professionals that have given their careers to the issue, and never get any closer to an answer of Camus’ “one truly serious philosophical problem.” Really, we all have so little understanding of the world.

Which was actually so much the point of Bourdain’s body of life work.

Years ago, in a random episode of No Reservations, I found myself finding Bourdain perched outside a tiny corner Istanbul kebab shop. He was eating, rapping with a local, mostly always smart enough to balance, to know when to let himself be guided. In my mind, he seemed to go from liking his sandwich to a string-swelling discovery of love moment, just within a few bites. A subtle kind of euphoria played across a thanks-for-showing-me-this type smile, him wrapping up the kebab in typical lyrical summation, “torpedo of joy.” There was something in the combination: the dripping meat package, the contentment, the all-is-well realization amidst a cobblestoned old world setting of winding, shambly, timeless streets, a feel of fearlessness yielding intense hedonist pleasure in the heart of a mysterious world. It was an unscrubbable moment of enlightenment, he had decided for me: Turkey was suddenly the place of my heart.

Through no coincidence, years later, my wife and I found ourselves closing our honeymoon in Istanbul. On our last night, post dinner of endless mezzes, our breaths heavy with smoked eggplant, sumac, parsley, our bodies already sluggish with lamb meat, it was nonetheless the last checkmark I needed, desperately, on my first trip to Europe. At midnight it would be my 32nd birthday. At noon tomorrow we would be on a flight home. But for now, I was after something. Down snaking back alley’s, a stream of dark loud bars pouring boozers onto the street side tables, fish shops still open and stinky and neon-lit, the distinction between patrons and pedestrians blurring, a propulsive cacophony of raised foreign tongues jibing with tinkling glasses, everyone young and hungry and dressed in black and close together, the streets too narrow for anything but whizzing mopeds. By the time we got there - me realizing the ultimate consummation of fresh marriage is when a new bride will follow you into questionable neighborhoods in strange lands for midnight snacks - a man, a brother or cousin of the proprietor it seemed, on my side of the counter with a drugged big-pupil look, upsold me on extra meat. I obliged, forking over Lira, salivating, breathing deep hand-stoked charcoal fumes, noting the coating of the bread with meat fat, noticing everything, stoically, or so I thought, chasing that Bourdain vibe. Bold. At least bold enough to hit a rough-edged corner store on the way home, for a six-pack of bad but frigid Turkish beer, a pack of locally-flavored Camels.

Twenty minutes later I was on our hotel room’s balcony, delaying my meal, swallowing a Bond movie scenescape, mosques doting the horizon, minarets standing rigid like menacing fingers, the Bosphorous River flowing behind me, the hotel where Agatha Christie penned “Murder on the Orient Express” just around the corner. In a grand gesture of chivalry, I eventually tried to wake my wife for a bite. She shrugged me off, opting for some sleep after 2 weeks of trekking around Italy and Turkey, eating endlessly of my deranged itinerary, now facing a 12-hour flight home. Instead I stood alone outside, I let the spice-addled cucumber sauce run down my arm as the rotisserie-ed beef and lamb combo danced, delivered on the wings of crisped lavash bread, popped up by red onion and juicy tomato. Solitary on a balcony, framed in smoke and late night buzz, I ate and drank, Istanbul spread endlessly around me. It was now my birthday. It was also my poetry moment. And Bourdain had brought me here. It was the apex of everything his books and bevy of heavy-hearted shows had taught me, the joy within being an active, discerning participant in life’s sorrows. His was the art of looking at the world. And showing how much better is the view when sided by a cold beer and really good sandwich.