#whoever guesses what episode each one of these is from will get to pick a Suuny screencap for me to paint

[not-roboto]

The Gang (20 cm x 20 cm, oil on paper) a series of small paintings I made of the backs of the gang.

[theboombutton]

Bad Fictional Data vs Fictional Bad Data

WARNING: This post will include discussion of a name that might be Alice Dyer's deadname. I won't be calling Alice by this name or using it in the context of that name being a pointer to Alice, but I will be using the name, uncensored, when talking about where and why the name appeared in chdb.xls .

----

You may know that as part of the ARG, the sleuths on Statement Remains uncovered a document called chdb.xls, allegedly a list that has something to do with The Magnus Institute. There's a list of names, ID numbers, first and last names, dates of birth, and information apparently related to each person's "score" in an assortment of psychological/personality tests. Three of the names in particular have stood out in a lot of analyses: Samama Khalid, Gerard Kaey [sic], and Connor Dyer.

You likely don't know that the commonly linked version of the spreadsheet, ported to Google Docs and linked in the TMAGP ARG Masterdoc, is presented out of order. (I'm guessing they didn't lock down editing until it was already all out of order from various people messing with it - totally understandable, this is not a callout post, thank you for making this easily accessible to people.)

But let me tell you about something I discovered by looking at the spreadsheet in its original order, and the almost certainly incorrect rabbit hole of theorizing it has sent me down.

Bad Fictional Data

Until episode 2 I had the same thought about the Dyer listed in the spreadsheet that I think most people did: that it was Alice's deadname, and that she had therefore been one of the Institute's young subjects. But after Alice had absolutely no reaction when Sam mentioned the Magnus Institute to her in episode 2, I now think this is significantly less likely.

Don't get me wrong: it's still reasonable to think that the Dyer listed in chdb.xls is Alice. Maybe she had some kind of supernatural experience that wiped her memory. (It probably wasn't that Alice was too young to remember, as the Dyer on the spreadsheet is listed as being at Piaget Stage 3, which occurs from 7-11 years old; but it's always possible that the Magnus Institute was using the names of legitimate psychological tests to hide their tracks when recording more esoteric data.) The point is, this isn't hard evidence that Alice has no connection to the Magnus Institute; it just made me go looking for more evidence.

I went back to the spreadsheet to look for more clues about whether or not this was Alice's deadname. What I found instead was some extremely sloppy fake data at the bottom of the spreadsheet.

For context, here are first ten names in the spreadsheet:

Note how each ID begins with the name's first and last initial.

Now check out the last ten names:

Not only do these IDs no longer always match their subjects' names, they occur in order: CD, EF, GH, IJ, KL, MN, OP, QR, ST, UV. The first names of each pair match the first letter of each ID, but many, though not all, of the surnames don't match the second letter.

My first thought was that whoever Rusty Quill had contracted to generate these names had gotten sloppy at the end of the list, created the IDs all at once using this alphabetical pattern, and picked names to fill in that roughly matched the IDs. But hey, we could use this to our advantage! Any name that was filled in as part of a series of IDs with an alphabetical pattern like this could be removed from consideration for red string analysis - we'd know they were meaningless fakes added by a lazy contractor, and not clues or characters that might show up again later.

Scrolling back up the spreadsheet, we can see the person generating the data having more care the earlier we go. We find the beginning of the AA/BC/DE/FG/HI pattern at line 136, but at first, the names mostly conform to the initials they've been given. JK09874 "Josie Jordan" at line 154 is the first break from the "first two letters of the ID are their initials" pattern; and breaks occur more often the further you go down the sheet.

Scrolling up to before line 136 (AA09911 - Aaron Atkinson), while the pattern isn't yet at AB/CD/EF/GH levels of obviousness, the first initials are still in alphabetical order. Zoe Hart follows Yara Logan follows Xavier Freeman follows Wyatt Edwards. The data creator skips a few letters - for example Niamh Fenton is followed by Phoebe Emmett, and S and T are together in the same line in Skye Travers.

We can follow this less-obvious version of the alphabetical pattern up to an abrupt break right at line 118, above which the IDs don't follow an alphabetical pattern at all. (They might follow a different pattern, but it's not one that I've found yet.) So that means we can discount all the names in line 118 and below as purely fake, generated lazily by a contractor, and not worthy of our attention for the purposes of red-stringing. Right?

What the fuck?!

(highlight is my own, it is not present in the original document)

My first thought was that the sloppy data generator had done the funniest thing imaginable, sending everyone on a wild goose chase about Alice's deadname just by having the name "Dyer" on the brain while looking for a surname that started with D. This would be Very Funny. No plot relevance, no implications, just the brain fart that launched a thousand theories.

My second thought was that maybe Connor Dyer was the last legit name on the list, and whoever started filling the rest of the sheet in with alphabetical junk data was inspired by the "CD" initials in the first place - whoever it was went on from there.

These are both valid thoughts! But I prefer my third thought:

What if it's on purpose?

Fictional Bad Data

There is a very obvious break between the set of data that doesn't look obviously* fake, and the set of data that is immediately identifiable as such. If we assume that this was intentional - and I want to reiterate that it all being unintentional is still a very real possibility here - why would someone at Rusty Quill want the data to be structured like this?

If the sharp dividing line between reasonable-seeming data and obviously fake data is intentional on RQ's part, it would suggest that we should take the data above row 118 as in-universe real data, and the data below row 118 as in-universe falsified data. It suggests that someone, either at the Institute or after its demise, was adding nonexistent children to the roster of The Magnus Institute. Why would someone want to do that?

There are all kinds of possible reasons, but here are a few off the top of my and my theorizing buddies' heads:

Financial fraud (institutional edition). If the Magnus Institute received funding on a per-child basis, they'd have an incentive to inflate their numbers.

Financial fraud (researcher edition). One or more people on staff were blowing off their child-analysis sessions and recording fake numbers for fake children. This would be ballsy as hell if they could be fired for it, but it was the Magnus Institute, so there's decent odds they couldn't be.

Scientific fraud (faking conclusions edition). The Magnus Institute in the Protocolverse claimed to be doing research on giftedness in children, which is the kind of thing that you'd normally publish in a scientific journal. It's not unheard-of for dickhead academics to falsify data to generate statistically significant results, since statistically insignificant results aren't going to get you published.

Scientific fraud (obscuring paranormal bullshit edition). If the Magnus Institute was using legitimate psychological test names to record Fear-related test results, it's possible their results showed different patterns from what you would expect from the real tests. They could have added the fake children to balance out the dataset as a whole.

Pseudonyms. The children are all real, the Institute just started using fake names for them for privacy purposes. They couldn't go back and change the names they'd already written properly for some reason. Probably something paranormal.

Those are all pretty interesting possibilities, and if we could narrow them down, it might tell us something about what things were like at the Magnus Institute before it burned down!

And the other big question is: why did RQ make the dividing line between the two sections, the first likely-fake entry, Connor Dyer?

One straightforward reason could be as a troll, a red herring to watch fans get in a lather over. And once the community inevitably noticed all the obviously falsified entries, RQ could eat popcorn and watch us lose our minds over whether or not that's even a real entry! (That sounds really fun, I would absolutely do that.)

But let's dig a little deeper, and look at what Connor Dyer being on the border between the real and fake entries would mean in-universe. Because of its position as the border between real and fake, it would be very easy for that entry to be accidentally included in the wrong group - a real research subject discarded as fake, or perhaps more interestingly, a fake research subject accidentally reclassified as real.

Remember, if a name is fake in the context of the Magnus Institute's research, that doesn't mean that the name itself is made up. If I was trying to think of a name that fit the initials CD, and those were the initials of my next door neighbor's kid, I might just write their name in as a lark. Especially if it was my first time trying to get away with falsifying information: this is a kid that verifiably exists and lives in the area.

My theory, supported primarily by my love for The Implications instead of actual evidence

Twenty years on, after all institutional memory of the fraud was long gone, trans icon Alice Dyer applies to work for the OIAR - an institution that (according to this theory) has an unofficial preference for hiring former Magnus Institute kids.

They are very confused when Alice proceeds to act nothing like a former Magnus Institute kid. It doesn't occur to anyone that her entry might have been falsified. What reason would anyone have to do that?

----

* Of course people with a background in data analysis or statistics will see immediately that even above line 118 this is a wild-ass dataset that would raise red flags for falsification, but at least it's not "the alphabet over and over" levels of obvious.

[jaggedjot]

An Extended Set of Notes on a Look at Season Two

Or, an attempt at being cohesive in extenuating circumstances.

"He wants you in pieces for the privilege of putting them back together as he sees fit." Armand has correctly identified Daniel's saviour complex (part projection-denial of his own feelings for Louis, part assertion of the white masculinity he leans into) with Louis.

There is a distinct edge to the smiles that Claudia and Armand give each other.

It is implied through the montage that Louis’ speech about his newfound commitment to pragmatic optimism ("Stop feeling sorry for yourself. A shit life beats no life. And where we're going now, we can't be running away again.") is aimed at Claudia. If that is the case, then Claudia is going to rightfully furious at this implicit criticism of her own despair at being an eternal adolescent, especially as this is coming from the man who played a significant role in causing that about. Not to mention the underlying resentment it suggests Louis has about her willingness to leave him, when Louis will be doing something similar to her later in the season.

I do need Sam Reid to teach classes about how to remove a shirt or waistcoat that smoothly.

The third episode of season one had Daniel point out how different Louis portrays Lestat in the present day to the original interview, namely that at the time he seemed to despite Lestat. Armand though clearly recognised that the anger and loathing Louis exhibited in the 1970s is something of a front to mask still existing love.

Initially I thought that Lestat was eating bible scripture, but, judging by the modern costume, he may be eating one of Armand’s scripts instead; the symbolism of both potential images is wonderful.

While Claudia and Madeline’s heads are already turned away, defeated, we catch a glimpse of Louis watching Lestat leave them to their fate.

Interesting that Armand is not going to pretend that there isn't something between him and Lestat.

Whoever blocks the sex scenes understands the importance of desperately grasping hands. I wonder if this tussle will end, as the previous one did, with Louis’ initial dominance fading as he allows himself to be overwhelmed.

“Let me guess, he’s your companion, finally. Picked another one over me!” It must be incredibly difficult for Claudia to see Louis find love, and be loved so intensely, when she is unable to in large part due to Louis' decision for her to be turned as a child. And for Louis to then decide that he has grown out of their relationship.

The line of "You fear Armand. You should fear the other one." before cutting to Louis smashing a glass against a priceless painting. My crazy girl is back.

Present day Louis actually seems to be wearing a colour that isn't black for the first time.

Even having rewound a dozen times, I still have no idea what horrific creature Louis imagines crawling out of the hollow of Lestat's throat. You would presume it would be a rat, but there is something insectoid to it.

A lot of theories about what happened on that fateful night in San Francisco being refuted or made more valid, specifically the seeming confirmation that it was Louis that left that scar on Daniel, and that the interview did take place the same night Louis and Daniel met.

Claudia and Louis sharing Madeleine is quite something.

The implication of the montage accompanying Claudia’s “You got to give up something to get something.” seems to be that Claudia is going to realise that she can never be fulfilled while maintaining her splintering relationship with Louis. Then for it to be followed up by Louis' "You and me, me and you." speech to her.

Santiago's inclusion in the "You and me, me and you." montage promises many things.

This trailer does nothing to contradict my theory that Armand is standing in the prompter’s box of his theatre during the trial, while claiming in the present day that he had no say over what happened next.

Please tell me Lestat's imagined ghost is not accompanying Louis and Armand during all their Parisian dates.

The shot of Lestat laughing while holding an ashing cigarette further confirms that there will be flashbacks to Rue Royale, as the blurred background looks very similar to the downstairs room.

"Pieces of my life gone. I knew who I was without those pieces." LOUIS.

The toast between Claudia, Madeleine, Louis and Armand seems to be taking place immediately before the trial, because Claudia is wearing the same fateful yellow dress and Madeleine the same blue blouse and, seemingly, red two-piece skirt and jacket.

The collapse of the bookshelves containing memorabilia of the past are not clearly connected to something happening in an interview session. If this is a response to something dramatic or particularly emotional in the story, you would expect Daniel to be up close, not sitting behind a desk alone.

It does hurt me to see Louis cry.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Welcome to Absolute Zero Day aka Yes, I'm still watching this show Day aka I'm dead inside Wednesday.

I am well aware that no ones cares anymore but sharing this is helping me keep my sanity through the show.

Here we go again…

FYI we are with the kids now.

One of them is telling the other one what will happen if they keep seeing each other. Really doesn't matter which one at this point. Just pick one.

One of them starts crying, now the other. Now they're hugging each other and crying.

I can't stand the music or the heartbeat sound anymore. I know it's suppose to elicit some kinda emotion on me but nope. I'm dead inside.

Now one of the adults is crying, if you guessed Soon you were correct. yawn Now we get to be reminded about Adult soon and young Ongsa. Yey.

More crying.

OK. Stop. I need to say this. The episode is at 18 min. But really 16 minutes because of the previous and the credits. Of those more than 6 minutes were crying. 6 MINUTES OF CRYING IN 16 MINUTES OF EPISODE. This might be some kind of record. (and yes I timed it because I knew it was coming and I might as well do something)

But wait... that's not all...

Cause there was not enough real time crying, let's have a flashback to the crying we saw not 10 minutes ago. Dead inside.

This is what? the 3rd time I'm watching Ongsa watching Love of Siam?? if they removed half the crying from this show I could've watched all these movies. if I stopped watching the show right now I could watch anything else.

Who the hell is grandpa? How does he know all this? And can he please tell us???

Well with only 2 more episodes left, I should hope so.

The letter still exists. I'm ignoring the paradox. I've abandoned all hope that this will ever make any sense. And we're back at the cinema and now with adult Ongsa.

Adult Ongsa is now crying.

So Adult Ongsa is just gonna ask everybody is they know a person named Suansoon? (if you're curious the answer is no) So now in this present, and by present I mean where we started this wonderful journey, 2018, they are not together.

Oh the amazing butterfly is back. Great. And next week they'll meet as adults. I can't wait.

(I just wanna say to whoever abandoned this ship early, like @lurkingshan and @bengiyo and I'm sure many others, you have my admiration and respect and I wish I was half as sane as you)

[midnightcreator12]

Well, only one person replied to my post..... but that person was @antimattercontainment​ Who is awesome soooooo....

Fr tho, just wanna talk about this cus I drew a thing, anyway!

My one main issue with the 2012 Mutant Apocalypse was this guy here VVV

Maximus Kong, aka Leo, aka the Shredder stand in for this arc. And I don’t dislike him because of the design, but because he’s Leo.

You’re telling me Leo, who is routinely shown to be a very empathetic person with a strong sense of justice throughout the show, became a ruthless, tyrannical overlord who's only goal is to take over the world after losing his memories?

And yeah, we could make the argument that he was alone and probably got picked up by a bad crowd, or he got like this to survive, but I personally wouldn’t have gone in this direction.

So, I guess this is kinda an AU? Does it count as an AU if I’m not really gonna do much with it?

idk, anyway!

So, the arc goes down like normal, the only change is Kong is not Leo and he’s brought up from episode one as this kinda boogeyman that everyone tries to stay as far away from as possible and his Beast. The story goes that Kong has this powerful, unstoppable mutant that no one can kill. No one really know what kind of mutant it is, anyone whos gotten close enough to see it is swiftly killed by it.

Throughout the arc Kong shows up just behind our heros, starting pretty far away but getting closer with each appearance. And whenever he appears, the audience sees flashes of a hulking beast with mutagen glowing spikes and murdious glowing eyes. No one gets a good look at it, not even Donnie can get a good read on what that thing is, but where ever Kong is, his monster is right at his side.

Then we get to the final fight, Raph is on Kong’s rig and is actually winning the fight. But then Kong whistles and Raph is tackled to the ground by the Beast. It towers over Raph, wild eyes and snapping teeth inches from his face, claws ripping at his armor.

And at first Raph fights back, ready to give his all against this monster. But then he looks, really looks, the monster in the eye, in an attempt at intimidation maybe, or ready to face his death head on.

But he knows those eyes. The scalaria has gone green and bloodshot but he knows that shade of dark blue almost as well as his own neon green.

(look this is as close to scary as I can get, just pretend he looks scary)

“Leo?”

And at first, the name doesn’t seem to do anything but make Leo more mad, doubling his efforts to try and take Raph down. But Raph has switched tactics, now going on the defensive and begging Leo to recognize him, to remember him.

Leo doesn’t seem to hear him, he does hesitate a few times but Kong commands him to “Take that worm down for your master!” And goes right back to attacking Raph.

Eventually he slams Raph to the ground hard enough to daze him. Kong laughs as Raph hoarsely keeps calling for Leo, saying, “Whoever that freak used to be is long gone. You waste what little breath you still have.”

Kong grabs Raph, intent on beating him to death. Raph cries out when something in his shoulder snaps. He turns to look at Leo standing to the side, staring at the scene unfolding.

And, thinking he’s going to die here, Raph wants Leo to know one thing, “Leo....I love you brother.”

And something shifts. It’s still fuzzy but something deep in Leo’s mind stirs, remembers a much smaller, younger Raphael.

His brother...that’s his brother.

Kong was not expecting his loyal attack dog to suddenly pounce, he barely had time to react before powerful jaws closed around his neck with a wet crunch.

Leo then goes to Raph, his voice is all but gone from years of not using it, but he nudges his brother, wheezing out a weak, “Raph.”

Then the tank lurches. It had been heavily damaged in the fight and was veering through the canyons out of control. Leo doesn’t even hesitate to curl himself over Raph, tucking his long lost brother close as the rig is ripped to pieces around them.

When the rest of the gang catch up, they find Leo, curled up in a ball. At first they freak out when they see Leo’s maw is coated in blood but Leo slowly rises, revealing a very alive Raph under him.

Leo stares at his family, voice still rasping painful as he calls for them, “Donnie....Mikey....”

And then it clicks for everyone and they all surge forward to hug their big brother.

They’re reunited, brothers against the world. As it should be.

So, yeah, that was the one bit in MA that I didn’t like and how’d I fix it. Have a good day y’all! 

[luckyqueenreign]

Found someone’s predictions about recoupling and they make so much sense

“Alright so my predictions are as follows:

Casa side:

Amelia goes first and switches to Marshall(he clearly caught her eye)

Grace goes next and I think she's gonna overcome her doubts about Ozzy and stick

Bella/Chloe goes after that and based on her "it's better to switch" talk I think it's safe to assume she switches(probably to Francis though Hamish is also possible after all they did have the twerk moment (personally hope this is not the case 🤞))

Finally it's MC's turn and you get the option to either switch to Andy or the other boy Bella/Chloe didn't pick or stick

Villa side:

Elliot goes first, he switches(He has no reason not to since he thinks MC is gone+he has the least amount of attachment to MC)

Ozzy next and I actually think he will switch cause this will then deter grace who put faith in Ozzy despite her having doubts and give Marshall more material to slander Ozzy with

OG LI/Roberto goes next and suprise suprise they stick 😐.

And finally Amelia's partner sticks”

So I dont know if they'll do it like the show where we see everyone come out at the same time...for example if Amelia is first than whoever she's coupled up with would come out and we'd see if they stuck or twisted. If thats the case then Amelia / Roberto - I think Amelia like u said is twisting to Marshall and totally agree Roberto will stick and will be sent packing (if they are doing it like last year where if u dont couple up u are sent home)

I agree with Ozzy / Grace going next but heres whats tripping me up about them. my mc kissed Ozzy on her way out of the villa and I told Amelia that I wouldve picked Ozzy had I had the chance. so it makes me think since he's my #1 LI wouldnt the game want to screw that up and make him bring back someone? bc I hope after we confessed we liked each other and he dumped Grace that, that would be the start of something....idk im still v confused about what the game is going to do with him. def agree that Grace will stick tho.

Bella/Lewie (in my playthrough) so I actually think she is going to stick and the only reason being that FB doesnt usually have more than 2 switches from each side. even in s2 if u didnt switch then it made Chelsea switch. But if you did then she stayed loyal. So I guess the main question is are they going to force us to recouple?? Especially since we're technically single. I think Lewie will recouple...that is IF Ozzy doesnt recouple. so basically is the game going to force us to care about in my case Lewie when ive moved on with Ozzy.

Then boom MC comes in and Shock and Awe everywhere. The boys are going to be beside themselves. There was no mention of this on their postcards!! I think the game is going to make us couple up with one of the casa boys because wouldnt the "host" need to give Elliot the option to couple up with MC too? And that would kind of ruin the surprise. So Elliot will twist and recouple with a casa girl.

We know for sure that Flo is coming back in and we assume Ivy is coming back too because we know she's in future episodes....but I go back and forth on who is coming back with who.

[tinylilemrys]

Lonely In London

Relationship:

Trent Crimm/Ted Lasso

Additional Tags:

Angst and Romance | Romcommunism | Friends to Lovers | Romantic Comedy | Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:

Henry, worried about how lonely his dad seems to be in London, writes into an advice podcast for some help. A podcast run by an ex-colleague of Trent's – one that he listens to religiously. If Trent falls a little for 'Lonely In London' because he reminds him of Ted, well that's just coincidence. An homage to romcommunism, largely based on 'Sleepless In Seattle' with a few others thrown in for good measure.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

CHAPTER 2

It's ridiculously early on a Wednesday morning when Ted next hears from the podcast.

Dear Ted Lasso (The Ted Lasso???)

Firstly, allow me to apologise if you were hoping to remain anonymous in our correspondence. Your full name is in the email address you used to email us, and I come from a journalism background so not much gets past me. Rest assured that if you are indeed the Manager of AFC Richmond (as the context clues from your letter seem to confirm) your secret is safe with us.

This is just to ask if you would be alright with us setting up a forwarding address for emails from our listeners. We weren't anticipating you being as popular with our listeners as you are, but our inbox is flooded at the moment and seeing as the whole format of our show is dependent on the emails we receive from our listeners, it's making it difficult for us to navigate our normal mail between all the mail addressed specifically to you.

So far, from what I've seen, all of these emails seem to be from lovely people would like to commiserate about that shared feeling of loneliness. That said I cannot guarantee that every email is going to be as innocent. You wouldn't believe the shit we get in our inbox sometimes. Please take this into account when making your decision.

All that's left to say is thank you again for your letter. The episode that featured it has been our most successful by quite a margin and has boosted our subscriber base substatially. I understand that this was likely not your intention when emailing us, but I wanted to thank you for it anyway.

Wishing you all the best for your future adventures in the world of romance. I'd throw my hat in the ring myself if I wasn't such a raging lesbian.

Kind regards, Lauren Miller Content Coordinator, Help I'm So Sad Podcast Breakneck Media Network

Ted reads and rereads the email chuckling each time. It's the best thing he's received for a while. Whoever this Lauren is, he think he'd enjoy shooting the shit with her over a pint. And maybe it's just a particular way journalists write, but some of the bite in her writing reminds him of Trent's.

Which reminds him – he's promised Henry he would do something.

Howdy! Glad to hear Anabelle's safely back in London with you! No pressure if you're busy or if you don't want to, but Henry's been asking when we can get ice-cream with the Crimms again, and I promised I'd ask. It would be nice to talk at any rate. I have some ideas about Richmond that I'd love to pick your brain about as someone who knows far more about this sport I find myself coaching than I do. Let me know. 🌻

He almost second guesses the sunflower, but it's a standard part of their correspondence now, ever since Trent first started reacting to his messages that way and Ted started sending them back. He doesn't know if it counts as flirting, but it's on the border of it enough that he doesn't mind taking the risk.

He's just about to respond to the email when his phone dings next to him.

Anabelle (and I) would love that. She hasn't stopped talking about Henry since last time. She's told me she thinks he's the coolest person ever. In so many words. Let me know when you're free. My schedule is astoundingly open at the moment.

Ted grins.

How about tomorrow around 3? I've heard it's going to be a scorcher of a day by your wilting English standards.

Nice try. You've told me before that it's only barely warmer there on average than it is here. You don't get to play the American superiority card on this one.

(3 tomorrow sounds lovely, though.)

Mr Crimm, practically everything in your royalty-having, tea-loving, swearing-as-affection little country is winning me over. At least let me cling to the one or two things that I still pretend to completely love about America. 🤠🦅

(Looking forward to it🌻)

He worries for a while that he's playing too far into the realm of flirting and scaring Trent off. But then his phone dings again.

Fair enough. It's a small price to pay to hold onto Richmond's secret weapon.

(Likewise. 🌻)

He grins like an idiot and turns back to his email. He's riding such a high now that he can't even be that worried about the whackadoos he might be letting into his inbox as he types his reply to Lauren.

Hi Lauren

Thank you for your discretion. I'm not as worried about myself as I am about the wellbeing of my club and my son, who's staying with me for the summer. So your silence on the matter of me writing in continues to be appreciated.

Please go ahead and set up the forwarding address. Y'all have been so kind to my son and me with the advice, the least I can do is make sure that your inbox isn't a nightmare to navigate.

Also, do y'all have a physical address? I would really love to come by and drop off something small to say thanks.

Hoping to hear from you soon.

Lonely In London (Ted Lasso if you're nasty)

He doesn't bother waiting for a response before setting to work baking a batch of shortbread. Worse comes to worst, he'll give the batch to Trent, who, although Ted knows will never admit it, has a soft spot for it as much as Anabelle does.

Maybe he'll set some aside for Trent anyway.

He's just considering the merits of making a second batch when Henry stumbles out from the bedroom adorable and sleep-tousled, clutching his favourite duck plushie.

"Hey, Bud," he says, throwing an arm around Henry as he comes to say good morning. "Did you sleep well?"

Henry nods and rubs his eyes.

"Are you making your Rebecca cookies?" he asks.

"Yes and no," Ted replies. "Yes, it's those cookies. No, they're not actually for Rebecca. I thought we could take a trip to the Help I'm So Sad studio to give them a batch to say thanks for all their kind advice. What do you think?"

"Yeah!" says Henry, suddenly wide awake. "Can I help?"

"Of course. Why don't you go shower and change quick and we'll make the next batch together?"

"Okay!" he says, dropping his toy on the counter and bounding off with all the enthusiasm of a pre-season Dani Rojas.

"Oh boy, Quackstopher, just wait till he hears we're also getting ice-cream with Trent and Anabelle again tomorrow," he says to the abandoned duck, loud enough that Henry will hear it.

"We are?" he says, racing back into the room.

"Tomorrow," Ted laughs. "Go get today going and we'll get cracking on making some for them too, okay?"

Henry gives a little excited squeal in the place of words and runs off to the bathroom.

For a small moment, Ted can't imagine why he ever needed to write into a show called Help I'm So Sad in the first place.

***

Not since the early days of fancying Shaun has Trent put this much thought into choosing an outfit for something that isn't even a date. But here he is, putting on and removing items of clothing. Changing into and out of jeans. Trying to figure out what provides the maximum amount of looking good while simultaneously looking like he didn't put much effort into putting it together.

"Belle-Belle," he says, turning around to the corner where Anabelle is playing a few of her Barbies to get her opinion on two of his shirts. "Should I wear the pink shirt or the blue one?"

"Pink!" says Anabelle, holding up her Barbie in what Trent assumes is an explanation if the hot pink dress is anything to go on.

"Well, that's on me for asking the four-year-old who doesn’t believe in any other colour, I guess," laughs Trent. "Thanks, Squish."

He wears the pink shirt and is rewarded an hour later with a massive moustachioed grin.

"Nice shirt, TC," says Ted, pulling him into a friendly hug. "The colour suits you."

"Thanks, Ted," he says, hoping that between the glare of the sun and Ted's dark glasses his blush is obscured enough that Ted doesn't notice it. "You're looking well yourself."

"Aw, shucks," says Ted. "Don't get me all flustered now."

Henry steps forward to shake his hand and hand over a box of what Trent, to his delight, suspects might be a batch of his famous shortbread.

"Hi, Teddy! Hi Henry!" says Anabelle excitedly and Ted honest-to-god gets down on his haunches to talk to her.

"Well hey there, always-swell Anabelle," he says. "How's Thursday been treating you so far?"

"Good," says Anabelle, suddenly shy. "I've brought my Barbies and Daddy says we're getting ice-cream."

"That we are," says Ted. "Just as soon as I figure out how I'm getting up again."

He makes a big show of not being able to get up despite Anabelle and Henry's best efforts to pull him to his feet, and Trent is too charmed to even be embarrassed by the number of people watching them. Or the old lady who mutters "sweet little family" a few feet away. Let them believe that this is his dorky partner. Trent should be so lucky.

He's hit with the realisation that he's so in love it almost physically hurts.

With one last hoist, Anabelle and Henry succeed in getting Ted to his feet and when Ted loses his balance a little in the momentum, Trent is only too happy to catch and steady him. Ted, to Trent's surprise, does actually look slightly flustered for a moment, before seemingly shaking it off

"And that's why in our business we say 'teamwork makes the dream work'," Ted laughs. "Good job, squad. High-fives all round."

After a round of high-fives, they make their way into the ice-cream parlour to place their orders.

"Sorry for causing a scene out there," says Ted softly. Now that his sunglasses are folded and hanging from the buttons of his polo shirt, Trent can see his expression is a little sheepish. "It's just, I know Henry enjoys that game. He's had a busy morning and he's a little tuckered out and grumpy to boot. I thought it would pull him out of his funk a little."

"Well, it seems to have done the trick," says Trent, smiling as he looks over at a nearby table where Henry and Anabelle are playing Barbies together. "Once again Ted Lasso's unconventional methods save the day."

"Now, Trent Crimm, that's not fair. You know I'm no match for your flattering prose." He winces as though he's over-spoken. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up your old job. Even in passing."

"It's okay to bring up my job, Ted," he says, with a gentle smile. "My time as a journalist may be at an end, but I couldn't stop being a writer if I tried."

"Fair enough," says Ted, looking relieved. "Have you given any thought to what you're going to do now?"

"As a matter of fact, I've just successfully pitched another book idea to my publisher," Trent replies.

"Well, hell, look at you go. Trent Crim, the unstoppable. What's it about?"

Trent might actually perish in the intensity of that smile.

"I was actually hoping to write about AFC Richmond." It's his turn to look sheepish, but Ted, if possible, looks even more delighted. "After all, it's a big year for you being back in the Premier League and all. And so many people, myself included, are rooting for you. Win or lose, it's sure to be a good story."

"That's a great idea," says Ted, looking genuinely delighted. "Keeley and Rebecca have been busting their butts trying to think of ways to boost our image. This is exactly the kind of thing they've been looking for."

"Yes, well, I'm still only going to write the truth. If it's a shocker of a season, I'll write it that way. Though maybe not as acerbically as I once did." says Trent, feeling somewhat self-conscious. "I don't think it will be a shocker of a season though."

"Oh yeah? How do you figure that?"

"Because in the years I've known you, Ted Lasso, I have yet to see you shy away from a challenge," says Trent. He's on the very knife's edge of plummeting into admitting everything he feels for this ridiculous, perfect man. "And I have yet to see a challenge that could best you."

He's said too much. He can't bring himself to look up now. Instead he watches as Ted scuffs a red trainer along the edge of a tile.

"Well, TC," he says in a voice barely above a whisper, "that's just about the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.

"Don't get too used to it," says Trent, feeling the conversation getting away from him into dangerous waters. "Deep down I'm still the bitter old journalist I was a few months ago."

"And I wouldn't have you any other way."

There's no time to unpack that particular statement because it’s at that moment they make it to the front of the queue. By the time they've transported their orders to the table, the conversation has shifted from the tenuous place it was to Henry's one-on-one training with Jamie Tartt and how Roy Kent has even joined for a session or two. Trent wonders if Henry can even comprehend at his age how lucky he is to be getting this kind of input.

To balance out the conversation, Ted asks Anabelle about her time in Scotland and is rewarded with an entertaining but practically indecipherable four-year-old's story that Trent thinks might line up with the trip to see the highland cows Shaun told him about. Ted, to his credit, attempts to follow every word, asking follow-up questions that would make even the most hardened of journalists proud.

If Trent was under any illusions that he could spend time with Ted without his feelings growing more intense each time, today has put paid to that. Trent couldn't be more taken with him, and the idea that he might still fall deeper is as wonderful as it is terrifying.

He's allowed a moment of reprieve by Anabelle accidentally upending her tub of ice-cream and bursting into very noisy tears. Ted immediately volunteers to run and get both a wad of serviettes and a replacement for her. Henry, proving he's every bit his father's son, immediately offers Anabelle some of his ice-cream and her sobs abruptly stop. Trent watches the two of them fondly. They get along so well. It could be so easy. He just wishes Ted could see it the way he does.

Ted's phone chimes on the table where he's left it. In the years to come, Trent will swear he didn't mean to do it. He'll blame it on his almost automatic journalistic instincts. He'll claim it was a compulsion he was still in the process of working out of his system.

That doesn't change the fact that he looks down at Ted's phone in time to catch an email. An email that starts "Dear Lonely In London…"

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Trent's instincts are almost never wrong. It's how he got as far as he did as a journalist. It's what made him so good at sniffing out sources in other papers. He recognises people in writing the way other people recognise faces in a crowd.

He was always going to fall in love with Lonely In London because Lonely In London was always Ted Fucking Lasso.

And he's not stupid. The final pieces of the puzzle are fitting into place. The banter that's teetered on flirting all these years. The actual flirting they were doing right before placing their order today. The way it always stops short of actually going anywhere.

He's Ted's PR nightmare crush. And that, more than anything, is what's so fucked about this situation.

It takes all of his carefully honed deceptive skills to pretend to be calm for the rest of the afternoon, but it's murder. And Ted, Lonely In London Ted, blissfully unaware, joking, just-having-a-grand-day-out-with-the-kids Ted, has absolutely no idea how much more damage he's accidentally done to Trent's poor heart.

Trent grabs a huge glob of ice-cream with the shitty plastic spoon, hoping the inevitable headache will help distract him from his gloom for a while.

Because, really, what do you do when you've come so close to everything you've ever wanted, only for it still to be so far out of your reach?

Despair, thinks Trent, as the ice-cream hits.

Next Chapter

[victimized-martyr]

Hey there! If you’re still doing the ask thing, hm, maybe 33, 19, and 9?

(Also just gonna say you have really funny, neat headcanons!)

Aw! thanks lolol. I like makin myself laugh when coming up with kyman stuff so I'm happy to hear you like 'em too.

Anways *sigh*. I don't know the meaning of brevity ok here we goooooo

33. what is an episode/moment from the show (or a game) that you consider to have very kyman-undertones, yet NO ONE ever talks about it? (UNDERRATED KYMAN MOMENT(S))

I wouldn’t say it’s underrated, but it’s recent so it doesn’t have the attention that other moments have garnered. Help My Teenager Hates me is such a good kyman episode. Kyle takes the first shot. Cartman gets hissy about it and fights back with his words. Kyle, in demonstration of his fiery temperament, shoots unnecessary amounts of paintball bullets. Cartman has no choice to surrender... for the moment. Cause Cartman catches Kyle off guard, honing his energy on one, harsher blow. Like, that’s been their dynamic for decades! Kyman’s dynamic is expressed in a way I’d never thought could be succinct! I’m so happy with this episode.

I’m not surprised he picked up on his tears with lightning speed. Kyle’s always been in tune with Cartman’s emotions. He’s the cartman whisperer fr. Love this episode to death.

Kyle putting on concealer and Gerald covering for him like it’s a damn scandalous hickey and not a bruise. “hE’s eXpIrimEnTinG” oh my fucking god, mattrey.

“Kyle and Cartman hate each other” Why the hell they talkin like friends and engaging in friendly banter when they come across each other at the store then. Check and mate, hoes. (jk jk lol. I just love the reminder that at the end of the day, they’re still friends)

19. do Liane and Sheila (& Gerald, I guess) approve of this relationship?

hm, For Liane, it's not a matter of approval or disapproval; she's fine with Cartman dating whoever he wants. When Cartman was dating Heidi, she stood to the side with little interference. She'll do the same here. In the unlikely even that he turns to her for advice, for example, asking what Kyle meant by “setting boundaries”, Liane would take the conversation…um.. into another direction: “Boundaries?? Aw poopsikins, well, I guess you’re old enough to start understanding this sort of thing. Now, one of the first thing about consent is establishing safewords..." I think all in all, she’d be relieved that someone headstrong and stubborn like Kyle is dating Cartman. He’s starting to put the dishes away! He’s not screaming at her to be at his beck and call! She has time to look for work!

Sheila would be cautious. She trusts Kyle, and it’s not an issue of liking Cartman or not (because Cartman knows how to suck up to adults, and she’s happily had tea with him during the show), it’s more a worry that Kyle and Cartman will make good decisions in their relationship. I envision Sheila as the type of mom who takes dating very seriously, like, the mentality of “dating for marriage” kinda deal. Her extensive lectures on consequences and communication won’t do well to assuage Kyle's neurotic tendencies. That’s where Gerald comes in.

Gerald’s a dick, kay, he’s got a lot in common with Cartman and can see through his sons’ boyfriend’s bs like THAT. Above that though, he’s a family man who knows how to dish out sage advice. Gerald will set Kyle aside and encourage him to “yes, listen to Sheila, but also, don’t navigate so piously that you forget to have fun. And hey, lighten up. Don’t date Cartman to fix him. That’s not how it works, kiddo.” He can’t say for sure if they’ll last, but if Kyle really likes being with Cartman for who he is, then it's fine. Gerald speaks to Kyle from the perspective of a sadistic asshole who fell in love with a self-righteous redhead with an explosive temper– and while Kyle may not make that connection, Gerald does, and he talks accordingly. He makes a note to do what he can to help Kyle out when their relationship inevitably hits lows (yes, plural, because it’s his son. and it’s Eric T. Cartman.)

Wahh!! I went too into detail gfkjdhgkjdf but in honesty, I see it as a more complicated issue than a matter of approval or not.

9. who’s the more affection one?

Outwardly? In terms of physicality? Cartman. He’s so shameless that he’ll make out anywhere, anytime, if Kyle so much as asked. He’ll call him pet names. He’ll STILL buy those couple outfits. He’ll find any excuse to be in contact with Kyle in some capacity. He’ll make grand gestures, and those are his favorite because not only does he get attention from others, he get the coveted double whammy of humiliating AND doting on Kyle. Some might say Cartman’s affection is shallow, that he has a juvenile view of love. Arguably, the affection is there, he just doesn’t realize to what capacity. All he knows is that he finally has Kyle, so he will express himself when emotions arise. It’s very ‘spur of the moment’.

[shorty-tolentino]

Depressive Episode

I know the title is a little serious, but I'm pretty sure I had one yesterday and I guess this is what I wish I had if I was in a relationship.

Let's get to know our characters a bit:

Maria- Maria is me, I guess. Whenever I wanted to write a story and I wanted to insert myself into it, I'd always end up using just enough of my name so I can separate myself from the story if I wanted to or imagine that it was me because it was close enough to my name. So if you want to imagine it's you, you can do that too.

Seven- the number seven is considered to be the "perfect" number, so Seven is who I've always imagined to be the perfect guy. You can imagine Seven as being whoever you want though, that's the beauty of imagination.

Kylo- I've always wanted a Doberman Pinscher named Kylo. That's all, lol.

Summary: Maria's disappeared for a couple of days and it's stressing our boy Seven out. After a few phone calls, he decides to show up at her house to see what's going on.

Word count: 2.2k+

Warnings: character A has a depressive episode, character B doesn't know what to do

She didn’t mean to have one. These kinds of thing just sneak up on you sometimes.

Sometimes she'll go a day or two without contact, that happens. But Maria normally shoots Seven a text saying she's alright and that she's been busy, so when she hadn’t answered his calls or texts after about four days, Seven knew something was wrong.

<Have you heard from Maria lately?> <<No. I’m actually a little worried about her. She doesn’t normally go this long without saying something>> <do you know if she’s home?> <<I don’t. Maybe call one of her siblings, they might know>>

He was at work and he had half a mind to just up and leave. It’s been harder to see each other since they both stopped working in the same department. Her coworkers said that she called out the past two days and because of damn HIPPA they can’t tell him why.

‘Maybe she’s just sick…like…really sick’ that thought didn’t do any good for him either. Maria never got sick. So the thought of her practically dying in bed because she simply wouldn’t ask anyone for help stressed him out even more.

“Hello?” Two siblings later, her youngest brother answered his phone.

“Hey, bud. Would you happen to know if Maria is at home?”

“Ummm, I think so. She hasn’t asked us to take care of Kylo so I don’t see why she wouldn’t be”

That’s right, if she wasn’t able to take care of Kylo for whatever reason, she would ask Seven or her family to take care of her precious Doberman.

“Ok. Thanks, man”

“No problem”

So she was probably at home. Seven just had to make it through the rest of the day and then pass by her townhouse to check on her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Maria? Baby? You home?” He heard her dog huff and his collar jingle as he approached the door.

“Kylo, buddy. It’s me, Seven” he heard Kylo sniff the door and whine. Probably in excitement that Seven was visiting. The jingle of his collar sounded as if it was going away from the door. After a minute or two, Seven got impatient and called Maria.

No answer.

Did he do something wrong? He did a mental check, no anniversaries, birthdays, or holidays that passed as far as he knows. And they hadn’t gotten into any arguments.

He started looking for her hidden house key. But then he remembered that she gave it to him and so he started looking through his set of keys to find the right one.

Just as he was about to slide the key into the keyhole, the door slowly creaked open.

He sighed in relief. She was alive.

But his relief was short lived. Maria’s face was red and her eyes were puffy, like she’d been crying.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Seven..” she choked out as she started to cry again, he immediately wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his chest. He walked her back into the townhouse and closed the door. He picked her up and settled in the couch cradling her as she continued to cry.

She eventually calmed down, and he wiped her tears away with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Wanna talk about it?” She just sniffled and fumbled with the sleeves of her hoodie. Well, his hoodie, he didn’t even realize he was missing it.

“Hey. Can you look at me?” He lifted her chin up so they made eye contact. It scared him for a moment because her eyes looked…vacant. Like she was far far away from him rather than just a couple inches away. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’ll always be here for you. Even if-“ he took a quick breath in cause he was afraid to say it, “-even if something happens between us”

It was like those were the magic words to take her out of her trance. He watched a little spark of life come back into her eyes and she gave him a weak, but small smile.

“Nothing’s happening between us. The void really got me the past couple of days”   Seven looked confused.

“The void?” Maria took a deep breath and wiped her nose.

“Um..yeah. That’s what I call it. I guess I should’ve told you about it before but it’s um..it’s depression.” Oh.

Oh.

That makes a lot more sense now.

Maria looked tired. Like just talking to him was taking so much effort out of her.

“I see. That’s why you haven’t been answering my calls?” She nodded. Kylo came up whining and put his head in her lap. She pet him slowly.

“Yeah..I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was just…hard. Everything is hard right now. I just want to lay in bed and stare at the wall” that vacant look went back into her eyes. Seven hated to see her like this. He felt so powerless. His girl was hurting and there was nothing that he could do.

“What can I do? How can I help?” She leaned against his chest and took a deep breath. It looks like she was listening to his heartbeat.

“Can you just…hold me?” That he could do. He’d quit his job and hold her all day and all night if she asked him to.

“Of course, baby. You still got an extra change of clothes here for me?” She nodded. “Can I change real quick and come back? I want you to be comfortable”

“Yeah. It’s in my dresser, top right drawer” he stood up and gently placed her on the couch. She curled up into a little ball and Kylo jumped up on the couch to cuddle with her.

“Good boy, Kylo. I’ll be right back, honey” he gave her a kiss on the head and hurried upstairs to change.

His clothes were right where she said they were. He noticed that his scent was beginning to fade and hers was taking over as he slipped the tshirt over his head. After folding his clothes and placing it on one of her hampers, he jogged downstairs, stopping by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and refilling hers before picking her up again and getting comfortable on the couch.

She looked like she had cried again. He kissed her forehead and allowed both her and Kylo to settle themselves around him.

“Do you wanna watch something?” She shook her head.

“No, but you can if you want” he turned the tv on, lowered the volume, and played a compilation from her favorite game play channel.

“I’m just gonna leave this on in the background. Is that ok?” She nodded and sniffled.

“Yeah, that’s ok” he leaned forward and grabbed her water bottle.

“I promise this is the last thing ’m gonna ask you for now, ok? Can you drink some water for me?” He held the straw up to her lips and she took a couple sips.

“That’s my girl. Ok, I’ll leave you alone now” she sat across his lap and he had one arm wrapped around her back and another went between holding her legs and scratching Kylo behind the ears.

After about half an hour, Maria just stood up and stretched.

“I’ll be back, I have to use the bathroom” she said, and slowly shuffled the restroom,  the door softly closing behind her. Kylo followed her and sat right outside the door. He was overprotective of Maria, so no doubt he was on high alert because of her mood.

Seven stretched on the couch. He could bench press more than Maria weighed, but sitting in the same position for an extended period of time makes your joints all stiff.

He heard the toilet flush and the sink run. Kylo stood up when the door opened and was right there for Maria to pet when she stepped out. When she got to Seven, she just stood there for a moment and he faintly heard her stomach growling.

“When was the last time you ate?” She shrugged.

“I don’t remember. Maybe this morning..or maybe it was yesterday” Seven stood up and cupped her face in his hands.

“I know you probably don’t want to, but I have to get something in your stomach. Will you try for me?” She slowly blinked and nodded.

“Yeah..I can try” she said quietly. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

“Awesome. I’ll see what you got”

After giving her a couple of options, she decided on some instant ramen. As he was nuking it in the microwave, she got up and shuffled to the kitchen and poured some dog food into Kylo’s bowl. He pushed some hair out of her face and leaned down a little to look at her.

“Hey there, cutie” he gave her a small smile. A corner of her mouth lifted up.

“Hi” she said softly. It was quiet for a beat and she motioned towards Kylo’s bowl. “That was the only thing getting me out of bed these past couple of days”

Seven’s heart hurt. He wished he could just make her stop feeling this way.

“Baby, it’s really hard for me to see you like this. Can we talk about it, maybe figure out what else I can do? When you’re ready, of course” she nodded and bunched the sleeves of the hoodie in her hands.

“Yeah, I can talk about it” he had a flicker of hope. When the microwave beeped, he carefully took the food out, grabbed a fork, and made his way to the couch. Maria sat cross legged next to him and he rolled some noodles on the fork, blew it gently and offered it to her.

“I can do it myself”

“I know, but let me help you. Please?” She smiled and opened her mouth. “So, tell me more about this”

“Umm, well. It’s one of those things that kind of catches you out of nowhere. Sometimes I can pick up signs on when I’m gonna have an episode, but this one didn’t have any.” He just listened quietly, continuing his task of rolling and feeding. This way he could made sure that she ate something. Knowing her when she gets upset, she might just pick at the food.

“So the episode started when? Four days ago?”

“Yeah..I was hoping I could snap out of it by Tuesday, but it took everything out of me to get out of bed so I just called out sick.”

“Hm” he said pensively.

“I know I should’ve said something. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“It’s ok. Four days I think is the longest you’ve gone without talking to me in a while. We don’t see each other at work anymore, so I think I got a little more freaked out than I should’ve” she shook her head.

“No, I think it was appropriate” he quirked his head as something in his mind clicked.

“Did you take forever to open the door cause you didn’t have any pants on?” She gave him a sheepish look.

“Maybe..” he quickly kissed her cheek.

“You are so adorable, yknow that?” She just looked off to the side. “I’m serious. I don’t tell you enough, but I’m really lucky to have you. You’re so special to me” Seven saw tears pool in her eyes.

“You’re special to me too” her bottom lip wobbled. He set the ramen down and kissed her deeply. Pouring everything he can’t put into words in that kiss.

When they pulled apart, he wiped the tears that had fallen.

“Done eating?” He asked, feeling his stomach rumbling a little.

“Yeah, you can have the rest” He finished off the food as Maria curled in a little ball on the couch again and watched the tv.

“Maria, how did you deal with depression before?”

“When it used to be real bad, I didn't really do anything. Then I learned about it some more, even got a stinking degree in psychology, and learned how to take care of myself. Sometimes I fall back into old habits like this time.” He set the empty cup down and leaned back into the couch. He reached out and stretched Maria’s legs over his lap and stroking them softly.

“Hm. Would you be able to let me know if this happens to you again? I want to help so at the very least you don’t go days without eating.” She looked at him.

“I’ll try my best”

“That’s all I can ask for, baby” he grabs her hand and kisses her fingers.

“Where were you when this was worse” she sniffled.

“I’m here now. I’ll always be here” he couldn’t explain why this happened to her but one things for sure, he was going to help her through it. She would later on send him some articles and blogs about depression, symptoms, how to support and he studied them like he had to take a final exam on them. He even did some his own research and went as far as asking some of Maria’s psychology friends about it.

She was feeling better by that time the following week, coming back to her usual bubbly self. By the end of that week, it was like she had never experience sadness before in her life. She hadn’t realized it, but this had made Seven so much more protective of her. He never thought the person that he would describe as sunshine incarnate could experience such a violent and consuming darkness.

Maria was embarrassed for Seven to see her like that. 'The void' as she likes to call it has been a problem for years now at this point. She's been able to manage it on her own so far. Kylo has unintentionally become more than just a guard dog, more emotional support dog than anything at this point. She doesn't know what she did to get so lucky because now she's got not only one protector from the void, but two.

A/N: So how we feeling after this?

Hopefully this doesn't trigger anyone. If anything, I'm hoping some people can relate.

Depression is nothing to be ashamed about, and even though Maria mentions getting a degree in psychology, that doesn't mean you need to get one to understand depression and how to take care of yourself or others.

If you feel like you've been dealing with depression, it's ok to get help. And if you don't feel comfortable, maybe find someone you can talk to about it. In my experience, talking to *someone* is a good first step in helping yourself.

I'm going to leave a couple resources about depression if you want to check them out.

Unclench your jaw, drop your shoulders, take a deep breath and a sip of water and finally-remember, your feelings are valid.

-shorty 🤍

What is Depression?: https://youtu.be/z-IR48Mb3W0?si=EUlO3b4cwz8Atm5l

How to help someone with depression: https://youtu.be/UQCzR17HE0w?si=a33z92c68IvPbcn9

Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: 988

[catflowerqueen]

Lunar being so excited for Christmas is as adorable as it is heartbreaking since he was so genuinely surprised at the thought that he, too, might be getting presents. And, like—he was still excited even before Sun mentioned presents at all. And it also spells interesting things for the timeline—or at least as far as when the editor or whoever is “canonically” releasing these episodes is uploading them—since from Sun’s perspective it seems there is something like a week left until Christmas, when from the viewer’s perspective Christmas Eve is tomorrow. Also it again puts into question the methodology by which the viewers are getting to see the VR chat stuff—my guess is on the security camera footage. …Which possibly means that Monty is involved, since we know he has hidden cameras and isn’t against taking secret pictures in order to monetize. Hm… food for thoughts and theories.

Anyways, I really was glad to see Lunar here, since I was very worried that the burning and chip damage Moon kept experiencing was indicating that something was wrong with him. That seems not to be the case, but it isn’t all that much better for it to just be indicating a problem with Moon, either, considering that this is ongoing and hasn’t been fixed yet. Probably Moon should at the very least avoid dimension hopping for a bit. As far as Lunar’s silence goes… either he simply didn’t care about what was going on, or he was wrestling with the fact that if Moon and Sun never split—or if one of them didn’t exist in the first place—then Lunar wouldn’t exist, since the only reason he’s around is because he was made by Eclipse. And Eclipse was only around due to the split. And, like… the past few episodes weren’t really about him, in that way… it’s just that I hope he understands that in these “what if” types of scenarios, it isn’t so much that his brothers were wishing none of it happened at all as they were trying to look for clues that might indicate where exactly things went “wrong.” The sort of thing Sun was trying to communicate to Moon before he took it the wrong way. But Lunar has always been the more philosophical and emotionally aware of the group, so I’m sure he understood.

The thing with Bloodmoon is definitely concerning, but at least they apparently didn’t do anything too violent while they were there. Assuming it actually was them, and not Sun only now encountering an example of human twins. Which would be hilarious in its own way. …Also hilarious would be Lunar sneakily ordering some O-negative blood packs to leave Bloodmoon as a Christmas present.

Circling back around—it will be very interesting to see how these brothers celebrate the holiday, and what they get each other and their friends as gifts. Lunar might be getting a body soon, which will be interesting to see in terms of what they go with for a design. And I wonder if Lunar will get the chance to get something for Sun or Moon? Or Monty, for that matter. It was pretty funny to see that management apparently made Moon do the decorating in the past, even though Sun seems to be the one much more interested in making things festive. I’m interested to see the location he picked out for them to celebrate the holiday.

Finally, I am glad everyone was able to reconcile (and I love that Sun’s reaction to Moon’s little escapade was basically the same as the one Moon had for Sun’s, even though he seemed less outwardly worried about it), and it is pretty cool that the reasons I put in my “Snapshots of Mars” fics for Moon to teach Lunar coding is basically canon now—in that Moon is trying to get Lunar interested due the fact that learning coding will mean Lunar can make his own games.

[virtualmentalitydeer]

Thoughts on Fox’s The Floor: At first I thought the concept was a bit goofy, but the eponymous Floor was a great centerpiece for the show. You do not really think much about it, but the individual squares are very large! Each could fit around twelve people. 

As you may already know, competitors on the show compete in trivia duels against one another to capture their boxes. Each person’s box has a category. In each duel, one contender would be shown an image relating to the category of the space they are trying to conquer. They must declare what the image is showing, and then their opponent is given an image and must do the same. While someone is guessing, their clock of 45 seconds will steadily tick down. If a contender did not know what to answer, they could “skip,” getting a new image at a penalty of three seconds on their clock. If a contender’s clock fell to zero, they would be eliminated from the game. These were fast enough where enough contestants would be ousted each episode, but long enough for some intense moments to form. Whenever someone wins a trivia duel, they may choose to immediately challenge another adjacent opponent, or return to The Floor and be challenged by another enemy later.

At the end of each episode, the person who had the largest section of turf would take home $20,000. Whoever took over all the squares would be awarded $250,000 for winning the show! Tantalized, lots of contestants attempted long-game strategies for the grand prize. However, the tragedy of the commons set in where everyone tried to play the long game, only for nobody to find much success out of it and leave with nothing. 

The biggest flaw of the show had to be how the game ultimately ends up. At first, I imagined the midgame/endgame of The Floor having lots of medium-sized groups spread out. In reality, the midgame/endgame consisted of two massive splotches in the dead center of the battle royale. 

Part of the reason why this developed was from the other major flaw, the randomizer system. The randomizer only picks people who have not competed yet. Given the nature of the show, this makes sense; some did not even have their first match until the fifth, sixth, or even seventh episode! 

Here is how the randomizer would act: There is a large section of turf, and the randomizer chooses someone directly next to it, suppose the randomly chosen person takes over the large section of turf, and this process repeats until the randomizer chooses another section of the board to terrorize. As a result, there were only two or three dominant combatants at a time. The fact that the randomizer only picks people who have not competed causes an oversight: The randomizer chooses a new person, the new person takes over another 1x1 section next to them and decides to go back to The Floor. Unless another person wishes to seize their paltry, 2-tile size land, the randomizer will not select them for the rest of the game! The final winner—some mildly annoying yellow gal I forgot the name of—only competed two times in the whole game by using the above strategy! Very anticlimactic.

  I believe The Floor has a decent chance of getting renewed, but not without changes to the randomizer and other aspects. 

Highlights:

The final-second, titular BBQ battle of the episode, “The BBQ Showdown”

Megamind appearing in the “Space” category. 

The titular professor’s rampage of the episode, “The Professor”

Bad Highlights:

The Simpsons category turning out to be about guessing the actors and not the actual characters. I do not watch The Simpsons, but that was sort of a low point in the game.

Too many celebrity-based categories throughout

The also anticlimactic final duel

Gene’s “catchphrase” he tried to develop in the finale

The aforementioned randomizer

This guy in the same room as me keeps yapping about the “only take one square and have the randomizer not choose you for the rest of the game” approach

Rob Lowe repeatedly states “You can run but you can’t hide” when you literally cannot run or hide on The Floor

Some guy incorrectly guessing Megamind as "Mastermind"

Somewhat boring or nondescript episode titles in the first half of the season:

[queenclaudiabrown]

Living Legend | Chapter Four: Questions and Answers

Content warnings: canon events within the media covered in this chapter, uncensored cussing, canon triggers of all media covered and referenced Media: Moon Knight Season 1 Episode 2 “Summon The Suit”; reference to Primeval Series 3 Episode 1 Word count: 6,939

     Sarah woke up sore and stiff in her bed the next morning, in the exact same position she’d fallen asleep in.  After crying her eyes dry, she’d taken the briefest of cursory showers and gone straight to bed.

     She pried herself off the mattress and made a light breakfast, still queasy from the night before.  After forcing it down, she applied enough makeup to mask her exhaustion and dressed in a white blouse, knit vest, jeans, boots, and her beloved caramel leather jacket.  Her feet felt like lead as she biked away from her flat.

     She was late arriving at the museum, and strangely enough she felt that she didn’t care.  Black and yellow striped tape blocked off the Egyptian section- and the destroyed loo- from public access.  Feigning ignorance, she strolled as nonchalantly as possible up to one of the security guards- mercifully, not the same one that had helped Arthur Harrow corner Steven yesterday.  “What happened?  Was there a robbery?”

     “We’re not sure yet.”  He told her.  “One of the toilets got pretty wrecked- some pipes burst and it was really bloody bad, or so I’m told.  But a bunch of the Egypt exhibit is screwed up too- like somebody ran around shoving things over or something.  And the hallway between it and the toilet is a mess too, racks knocked over and stuff.”

     “Weird.”  Said Sarah with false casualness.  “Hope they find out what happened.”  She quickly moved away, turning her head as she scanned for Steven/the mummy dude or Harrow.  To her relief, she spotted the former across the way, and they hurried toward each other.

     He threw his arms around her immediately.  “Thank God you’re okay.”  He said, voice muffled.  “I woke up alone in my flat and I didn’t know if you’d made it out alright.”

     Okay, so Steven definitely wasn’t secretly a superpowered American with a magic mummy suit and glowing eyes.  “I’m fine.  I met him- the other bloke.  He saved us and sent me home.”

     He pulled back and nodded, then scanned her with his eyes.  “Are you hurt?  Did anything happen?”

     She shook her head.  “Scratches at the worst.  He took care of the jackal pretty quickly.  I sort of just… hid under the sink.”  She averted her gaze, directing it to her hands as she picked at a hangnail.  “I hope it’s not cowardly to say that.  I didn’t have anything to defend myself with, and I thought that if I tried to fight it I could get torn into pieces by a monster I can't see.”

     “It’s not cowardly, Sarah.  For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t try to fight it.  If you had died- if you’d been killed by something sent after me- Sarah, I never would’ve forgiven myself.”

     Her eyes watered.  “It wouldn’t have been your fault, Steven, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

     Worry flooded his face again.  “Sarah, I watched the security tape.  The jackal’s not on it.  It’s just us running around looking like bloody lunatics.  And then there’s me carrying you out, but I’ve got this really mean look on my face.”

     “He insisted on carrying me so I wouldn’t get in trouble for wrecking the toilet.”  Sarah revealed.  “I mean, I couldn’t see the jackal, so I guess it makes sense that the cameras couldn’t either.  But why could you?  And why could he- whoever he is- see it and kill it so easily?  It doesn’t make any sense.”

     “Yeah, well, unfortunately I haven’t got a bloody clue myself either.  Just ’cause I could see the bloody thing doesn’t mean I know why I could, or what it was.”

     “But we know who sent it.”  Sarah reminded darkly.  “Arthur fucking Harrow.  Whatever shit he’s spreading about his and/or Ammit’s version of a good person is exactly that- shit.  A good person wouldn’t unleash an invisible magic hell jackal on two innocent people who may or may not have a random scarab.  Not that I want to talk to him personally, or have him be anywhere near you again, but he could’ve asked in person for us to hand it over.  Instead he went straight to murder.”

     “It did seem like a bit much.”  Steven agreed in his Steven way.

     At that moment, another one of the security guards- Kat, Sarah thought her name was- approached them and informed them that the museum director wanted to see them both in his office.  She wished them luck before dashing off to stop a human tower of unattended small children from scaling a display.

     A haze of stress and memory descended on Sarah, and she walked and sat robotically.  She didn’t snap back into the present until the museum director set two plain white mugs of steaming coffee on his desk.  “I should tell you the museum has no wish to press charges.”

     “Okay.”  Steven replied jitterily, quickly taking a mug.  After a moment, he offered it to Sarah, who took it with a tiny twitching smile of gratitude.  He returned it, taking the other cup for himself.

     “But, Mr. Grant, Ms. Page-”

     “-‘Doctor Page’-” she corrected lowly, a habit she’d formed over the years since receiving the title.  For a moment, she remembered when she had corrected Lester upon their first meeting, but shook her head to banish it.

     “-Dr. Page,” the man corrected himself annoyedly, “we’ve spoken to your colleagues.”

     “Yeah?”  Steven’s nerves were almost tangible, infecting Sarah with a stress more heightened than the one already threatening to empty her stomach.

     “It’s all been a bit of a struggle for you recently, hey, Mr. Grant?”  The man continued, sitting down into his chair.  Sarah wasn’t even the one he was speaking to, but her jaw clenched at the painfully ‘sympathetic’ tone of his voice.

     Steven didn’t seem to notice how truly condescending it was, dropping his head with something akin to a sigh.  “Yeah.”  He admitted, sounding ashamed and close to tears.  Sarah wanted to throttle the man behind the desk.  “A bit, a bit.”

     “This particular group of doctors has a long-standing relationship with us.”  She man continued, and Sarah drew in a deep breath and let it out through her nose to calm herself.  It didn’t work, so she obnoxiously slurped her coffee instead, glaring at him over the rim.  The beverage tasted awful- the creamer was probably either gone off or some artificial non-dairy substitute, and there was next to no sugar in it.  The roast itself tasted cheap and almost stale.

     “Doctors?”  Steven questioned.  The man slid a pamphlet across the glass top of the desk, and Steven nodded as he understood.  “Oh.”  He reached out and picked it up.

     “They’re wonderful.”  The man continued.

     “Yeah?”  Steven’s voice was timid but hopeful, and Sarah’s murderous desires surged.  He didn’t deserve this.

     “I could arrange an appointment.”

     “Okay, yeah.”  Steven was nodding.  “It looks… it actually looks quite posh.”  He chuckled.  “Looks like they’re very good listeners, right?”  He opened up the brochure and showed Sarah one of the artfully-structured ‘inviting’ pictures of an employee supposedly offering advice and a sympathetic ear, then held it up for the man to see.

     “They really are.”  The man agreed.  “I know this is classic HR to say, but… but you’re not alone.”

     Sarah was sure the man had good intentions, but his demeanor made her skin crawl.  Not in a creepy way, but in that condescending, patronizing way she was so sick of receiving.

     “Yeah?  That’s like, part of the problem, innit?”  Steven took a drink of his coffee as the self-spiteful words left his lips.

     “Before you leave us, I’m sorry for the protocol of it, but… any museum property on your person?”

     “No, I-I haven’t nicked anything, I swear.  I…”  He set down his coffee mug to rifle through his pockets, briefly producing a small folding mobile and a square-tagged key before tucking them away again.  “No, nothing.”

     The man cleared his throat and indicated, and Steven looked down at his nametag on the left breast pocket of his jacket.  “Yeah.”  Steven forced out after a moment, and Sarah could see how he struggled with losing literally every piece of something he’d worked so hard for and loved so much.  He took off the tag, glanced down at it in his hands for a moment, and set it on the desk.

     “Thank you, Mr. Grant, that will be all.  You, Miss Page, are not being terminated.  We’ve reviewed the security footage, and we’ve decided that although you were part of the incident, you weren’t the main culprit of the incident, and therefore you will also not be penalized in any way.”

     For a moment, her heart jumped.  She loved working Museum, and being in such a familiar place was almost like she hadn’t been torn out of her old life and universe and injected into this one.  She could stay, without having to fight for it.

     But in the few seconds that she straightened eagerly in her chair, lowering the cup from her lips, she made her decision.

     “Actually, I’m quitting.”  She declared, eyes hard and cutting as she glared at the man behind the desk.  “I don’t want to work in a place that bullies and shames someone into feeling like he’s less than everybody else.”  She chugged the rest of her coffee- gross as it was, she was going to need it- and reached up to unclip her own nametag from the white blouse she wore.  She slammed it down on the desk, a tiny bitter part of her hoping it left a scratch on the glass top, and shoved to her feet.  Linking her arm through a bewildered Steven’s, she marched for the door, tossing one last sharp-tongued remark over her shoulder:

     “And it’s Doctor Page.”

     Ten minutes later, what little they both owned that had been left at the museum was collected, and they had left the museum for the last time.  Sarah was too angry to feel sad about it.

     And now they were sitting on the edge of a fountain next to the living statue of a man Steven called Crowley.  He was wearing a suit and monocle, pained gold with one arm outstretched.  Blue eyes, nearly the same shade as Nick Cutter’s, were the only exterior sign that he was a living human and not an incredibly realistic art piece.

     “Well, that’s it.  I got the sack.  I don’t blame ’em- I’m a vandal, I should’ve been arrested.”

     “You’re not a vandal.”  Sarah sneered- not at him, at the museum HR, at the chaos and injustice of it all.  “You- him- whatever- saved both our lives, killing that… that thing, whatever it was.  So what if you smashed up the sinks to do it?  They can well afford to repair everything, with how much they make and how little they pay- paid- us.”

     “I did- I did find things, hidden in my flat, I swear.  I’m not joking.”  Steven continued, still worked up over everything.  He tilted his head, staring intently at Crowley.  “That’s worth exploring, isn’t it?  Like if I could find that storage locker, that might be my one chance to prove to myself that I’m not… mad.”  His voice had changed, going from frustrated to hopeful.  “Oh, mate, thank you.”  Abruptly, he leaned forward and hugged Crowley, who startled and blinked at the unexpected physical contact.  “Thanks, cheers.”  Steven patted him on the back before standing up.

     He was striding off before Sarah could blink, and she scrambled to pull a pair of tenners out of her wallet to drop into the gold-painted man’s hat.  “Sorry about him, keep up the good work.”  She rushed out before hurrying after her friend.

     Steven produced the key from his pocket again, staring down at the maroon plastic intently.  Reaching his side, Sarah peeked at it around his arm.  “Do you recognize the logo?”  She asked.

     “Hmm?  No, I don’t, but I reckon if I walk around enough I’ll find it somewhere.  Wonder what the ‘J’ stands for.”

     Sarah mentally groaned at the thought of the two of them traversing every street in the greater London area looking for this symbol.  That was if it was even in London and not somewhere else.  But she didn’t voice those thoughts.  “We’ll find it twice as quick if we split up.  Let me take a picture of that, and we’ll split up.  If I find it, I’ll ring you, yeah?”

     “You’d do that for me?”  Steven looked at her in wonder, and her heart melted.

     “Of course, Steven.  You’re my friend.”

     Thirty minutes later, Steven rang her, excitedly telling her he’d found the place.  She asked him to wait outside, then ran down the sidewalks until she reached the address he’d given her.  Soon enough, they were together again, and Sarah controlled her breathing and smoothed her hair as they walked into the building.

     It wasn’t the right one, irritatingly, and they tried four more before they had any luck.

     “Hiya.  You alright?”  Steven greeted the receptionist (if that was the word).

     “Yeah.”

     “Yeah, um, look, man, this is like, the fifth branch we’ve been to.”  He began.  “I’m looking for my storage locker.  It’s under ‘Steven Grant’.  If it’s not under ‘Steven Grant’, it might be under ‘Marc’… I don’t have a surname, just ‘Marc’.  Would you have a look for me, if that’s alright?  I know it sounds-”

     “Of course.”  The man cut him off, not rudely.  “I know you.  Number 43, right?  I never forget a face.”

     Sarah and Steven exchanged looks.  “Must be it, then.”

     The man led them to #43, down corridors formed from the corrugated steel sides of the surrounding lockers.  Fluorescent lights came on overhead noisily as they entered their corresponding sections, bathing them in an odd greenish color.  After unlocking and removing the padlock, the man left them, and Steven pulled the door open.

     They stepped inside, Sarah finding a lightswitch and flicking it on.  The door shut behind them as that same color flooded her vision, the light illuminating the contents of the room.  Several rugged-looking plastic storage bins were stacked in places, a few others alone scattered about.  A rack of shoes and other items stood beside the door, with what looked like some sort of pop-up clothes rack on another wall, a few shirts and pairs of trousers occupying its bar.  A single military or camping cot had been set up, with a pillow on one end and a neatly-folded blanket or two on the other.  Becker would’ve been all over it in a second, Sarah was sure.

     “Whoa.”  Sarah breathed.  “Whoever the other bloke in your head is, he’s… blimey, I don’t even know what.”

     Steven didn’t reply, slowly walking deeper into the room.  He eventually crouched beside the cot, opening the military shoulder bag set atop a couple storage bins next to it.  Sarah came up behind him, observing over his shoulder.

     “Oh my God.”  Steven said upon seeing the topmost of its contents- a shiny silver handgun with a black grip.  He picked it up by the end of the grip, looking more weary than wary.  He deposited it on the cot, and Sarah eyed it for a moment, wondering why Marc had it.  It wasn’t common for Brits to have guns unless they were military or police, but Marc was American- sounded it, anyway.

     Steven delved deeper into the bag, producing several thick wads of foreign banknotes belonging to multiple currencies.  He let go of them in favor of a passport, opening it to find Steven’s face on the American interior.  “‘Marc Spector’.”  Sarah read the name attached to the picture.  Well, now they had a surname.

     Steven sighed and put the passport down.  He moved a map out of his way, fishing something out from underneath it.  “No way.”  He breathed, producing… a golden metal Egyptian scarab?  “It’s real, it’s totally real.”  He touched it with his other hand, and two small but intricate wings popped out of its sides.

     “This is what was in your pocket in the Alps?”  Sarah asked, eyes tracing over every line of the object in awe.

     Before Steven could answer, the scarab started flying, lifting off of his hand and leaving a small, flat piece behind.  Sarah straightened, stepping backward away from it as it largely hovered a few inches above Steven’s palm.  “Whoa.”  He breathed, slowly getting to his feet.  “I’d say you’re a compass, but you’re not pointing north.”  He remarked, more or less following it as it moved.

     “South, I’d say.”  Sarah agreed.  “Southeast?”

     Abruptly, Steven’s posture changed, and the scarab dropped back into his hand.  Sarah frowned.  “What is it?”

     “Marc?”

     She drew in a breath, glancing between Steven and his blurry reflection on one of the room’s walls.  “Is he talking to you again?”

     Steven nodded.  “There he is, here he comes.”  He waved at his reflection.  “Hello, man in the mirror.  I was wondering if you’d pop up again.”

     “Me too.  I’ve got some questions for him.”  Sarah stated, crossing her arms and glaring at the wall.

     “A bit, yeah.”  Steven replied to something Marc had apparently said.  A moment later, he gestured about to room.  “No?  Well, a bit late for that innit?  So what, what- am I, like, meant to be some sort of mad secret agent or something?”

     Sarah had seen some strange things in her time… prehistoric creatures mistaken for pagan gods… time portals… monsters from the future… mad scientists… clones.  She doubted the truth behind Steven and Marc would be much madder than that.

     “More complicated?!”  Steven suddenly demanded.  “What, am I possessed?  Are you like, a- a demon?  Or-”

     He cut himself off, or maybe Marc did, and Sarah’s eyes flicked between the two versions of her friend- though to her perception his mirrored image was merely that- as she waited for answers with bated breath.  After a few moments, Steven glanced over his shoulder at the cot, then looked back at the wall.  “Are you joking?”  He spluttered.  “Sleep- I’m never gonna got to sleep again!  You hear me?!  Look, I don’t care how bloody handsome you are-” Sarah snorted at the sheer insanity of that comment “-tell me what it is you are.  What are you?”

     Steven’s voice was rising, and it scared Sarah.  Not because he was frightening, but because nothing worked up Steven Grant enough to make him raise his voice, and now his reflection was freaking him out more than literally having his life threatened had seemed to.

     “Yes, bloody- yes.”  All was silent for a few moments, but the next word out of Steven’s mouth made Sarah’s blood run cold.  “Khonshu?”  A moment later, he followed it up with “The Egyptian god of the moon?”

     “Great, first we’ve got Ammit, now Khonshu as well.  Steven, please tell me there’s not a freaky cult of Khonshu out there like Harrow and Ammit’s thing and you- Marc, whatever- are part of it.”

     “Oh my God, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”  Steven suddenly said, turning his back to his reflection.  Sarah’s coal-black eyebrows shot up.  “Not you, Sarah, him, what he said.”

     “Well, what did he say?  I’m only getting your half of this bizarre conversation.”

     “Erm- well, he says that he’s Khonshu’s Avatar, or something, and he, like, protects the vulnerable and delivers Khonshu’s justice to those that hurt them.”  He scoffed, clearly not believing it.  “I eat one piece of steak, and then bam, I go bonkers.”

     Sarah frowned, considering, as Steven sat down on the cot.  She thought back to that awful night six months ago- Marc clad in the grey super-mummy outfit, a metallic crescent moon on his chest matching the one he’d killed the predator with.  Marc, or whatever his name really was, carrying her bleeding form to a hospital.

     “Wait… Steven, he might have a point.”

     “What?!  Sarah, you can’t possibly be buying into this- this rubbish.”

     “Maybe it’s not rubbish.”  She replied, meeting his eyes.  “Steven, six months ago, I was living in another universe, and the year 2009.  Something awful happened to me- this horrible creature that had to do with my work nearly killed me, and I crawled through a portal and wound up in a bloody alleyway here in London in the middle of night.  I was hurt, and it was going to kill me.  But then Marc showed up- you know, in the outfit, all mummy-ish and stuff.  He saved my life and killed the creature, and he brought me to the hospital.  He never told me his name, but his voice- it’s the same voice you were speaking with last night when that suit popped out of nowhere in the loo and you killed the jackal.”  Sarah took a breath, struggling to wrap her head around it all.  “Mythologically, Khonshu is called upon to protect people from wild animals, or to help heal people and cattle.  That night, I was vulnerable, and he saved me and killed that thing with some sort of crescent moon… throwing star… thing.  Steven… it makes sense.  It all adds up- the mythology, what he just told me, him saving me that night.”

     Steven tore his gaze from hers and redirected it to the pistol beside him.  “You want my body?”  He demanded.  “Right, yeah.  Marc, how about this for a deal?”  He shoved to his feet and grabbed the bag he’d found the scarab and gun in.  “I’m gonna take this bag full of illegal shit, yeah, and I’m gonna go straight to the authorities, and I’ll tell them I threatened Sarah into helping me if they go after her, and they’re gonna put me away so I don’t hurt anyone else, and hopefully NHS will fill me with enough pills so that you get out of my head!”

     As he had rambled this incredibly ridiculous plan, he zipped up the bag and began backing toward the door, and the overhead lights began flickering again.  “Steven!”  Sarah called, chasing after him.  She paused, then darted back to grab the gun and tuck it into the waistband of her trousers, concealed by her leather jacket.  “Steven, stay with me!”

     Steven slammed the storage locker door and the flickering stopped.  Down the hall from them, a light went out, and then one came on on their opposite side.  “Steven, I don’t like this, what if it’s Harrow again?”  Sarah worried.  “What if there’s another jackal?”

     God, she’d do anything for an anomaly to be the problem right now, even if it spat her back into the exact hellhole she’d crawled out of six months ago.

     The second light began going on and off rapidly, its speed ominously ever increasing.  “Oh God, oh God.”  Steven muttered under his breath as the lights began switching on and off as if illuminating something moving rapidly toward them.  Suddenly, Steven screamed and bolted in the opposite direction, pulling Sarah after him with a yank on her arm.  The lights were flickering and flashing, and all around them the storage lockers were shaking.  “Is it another jackal?”  Sarah panted out, right on his heels.

     “It’s Birdy again!”  He replied in terror, confusing her for a moment before she remembered what he’d told her about the looming person with the giant bird skull head in the lift of his flat building.  With this new context, Sarah realized that since he was apparently sharing a body with Khonshu’s Avatar (if this story was to be believed, which Sarah was starting to), he was probably seeing Khonshu in some form or other.

     They began hooking corners, Steven looking over his shoulder repeatedly and still shouting and screaming.  Turning yet another corner, Steven came to an abrupt halt, and Sarah skidded into his back, both of them unbalancing but somehow managing to stay upright.  “What?”  Sarah hissed.  Steven didn’t reply, staring up toward the ceiling in terror.  After a moment, she chanced: “Khonshu?”

     Steven screamed again as a storage locker’s door banged open behind them, and Sarah grabbed at the collar of his jacket and yanked him backward.  Spurred into motion again, Steven took off running once more, and the two finally escaped the maze and came into the brightly-daylit exterior sections of the building that the storage facility shared.  Steven careened into the street, tripped and fell, and flung his arms up to shield his head as a motorcyclist screeched to a stop less than a foot away.  Sarah stopped at his feet, hurriedly squatting with the intention to get him upright again.

     The motorcyclist leaned over and peered down at Steven.  “Marc?”  She questioned with an American accent.  “Where have you been?”  Her gaze traveled to Sarah.  “And who’s this?”

     Steven looked up at the woman cautiously.  “Layla?”

     Sarah raised her eyebrows.  “This is Layla?”

     ‘Layla’ cocked her head.  “Yep.  And I still don’t know who you are.”

     Sarah opened her mouth to answer, but stopped herself.  “We’re kind of being chased right now- second time in twenty-four hours, might I add, getting real sick of this- so if you don’t mind, can we save the introductions and explanations for when we’re not possibly about to die?”

     Layla eyed her for a moment, then gave a half-shrug and canted her head.  “Alright.  But I definitely can’t take you both on this.”  She indicated the motorbike she was riding.

     Sarah nodded.  “Right, well, I can take the bus, since you two seem to know each other.”  She wasn’t sure how much Steven and Layla had spoken on what was apparently Marc’s phone, but she knew that they had talked, and Steven knew Layla enough to recognize her.  “We’ll meet up at your flat, and I’ll take the bus, yeah?”  She pulled Steven to his feet.

     “Right, yeah, cheers, I’ll… sounds good.”

     Layla thrust a second motorcycle helmet into Steven’s chest, and Sarah nodded her head in a decisive farewell before she turned and sprinted down the street the way Layla had come.  As soon as she could, she climbed up onto the outside of a double-decker bus and rode holding its rail until they reached a street near their flats, and from there she walked.  Well, jogged.

     Sarah got there before Steven and Layla, and she paced nervously for a few minutes before resolving to make herself a cup of tea.  Steven wouldn’t mind, and she made a mental note to buy him an extra box of it even though she hadn’t taken the last teabag.

     She was sipping the hot beverage and leaning up against his kitchen counter when the door opened, Steven leading Layla through.  Seeing Sarah, his nervous expression relaxed slightly.  “Oh good, you’re here.  You make it alright?”

     Sarah nodded.  “No trouble on my end.  You?”  She asked, watching Layla- who she could now see was both really pretty and not white now that the helmet was gone and her eyes had adjusted and they weren’t in a tense situation- as she slowly meandered into the flat.

     “No, no, we were good.”

     Layla bent down to look at Gus the goldfish, tapping on the glass as she observed him.  There was something strangely magnetic about fish- young or old, people loved to stare at them and watch them, in tanks or in the ocean, in real life or in videos or films.

     “I just want my life back.”  Steven said quietly after a long few moments.

     “Yeah, I’m getting that.”  Layla remarked acidly, standing straight again.

     “No, sorry, I- I wasn’t talking to you, just talking to myself, sort of.”  Steven rushed to apologize.

     Layla took notice of the bedroom area.  “Uh, this is your flat, Marc?”

     “Uh, I’m Steven.”  He corrected.

     She didn’t seem to care.  “Are you living here with someone else?”  She demanded, piercing him with her gaze that quickly flicked to Sarah.  “Her, maybe?”

     “‘Her’ has a name, which I’m happy to tell you now.”  Sarah responded.  “It’s ‘Sarah’, by the way.  Doctor Sarah Page.  And no, Steven and I aren’t like that- we’re just friends, that all, and until we got sacked this morning we were colleagues.”

     “Yeah, no, exactly, Sarah’s right.  This is my mum’s flat.”  Steven agreed.

     “Okay, so you guys are- are talking again?”

     Steven made a humming noise of confirmation, surprising Sarah.  She didn’t know Mrs. Grant (or ‘Ms.’) had started returning her son’s twice-daily messages.

     Layla picked up a book off one of Steven’s many bookcases.  “Marceline Desbordes-Valmore?”  She questioned, her pronunciation of the French name flawless.

     “Yep.”  Steven confirmed, then surprised all both women as he began reciting one of the poems in French:

“N’écris pas. Je suis triste, et je voudrais m’éteindre.

Les beaux étés-”  

     Surprising Steven and Sarah alike, Layla joined in: 

“-sans toi, c’est la nuit sans flambeau.”

     “Oui, oui.”  Steven half-joked.  “Yeah, she’s my favorite poet.”

     Layla frowned.  “Um, no, she’s my favorite.”

     Sarah sipped her tea.  “Can’t two people have the same favorite poet?  My mother and father met trying to grab the same copy of one of Phyllis Wheatley’s Poems.”

     “He knows she’s my favorite, and I know he knows that, so it’s stupid for him to act like he doesn’t know that and she’s his.”  Layla told Sarah, only slightly clarifying things.  She wandered across the flat, gesturing with the book to the heaping piles of Egyptian books on Steven’s desk.  “So you’re learning French and hieroglyphics?”  She prodded.

     “Yeah, well, that’s not that impressive, really.  It’s not like hieroglyphs are a whole language.”  Steven told her, strolling over to the desk as well.  “It’s more like a-”

     “-Like an alphabet.”  Layla completed shortly.

     “Yeah, and… well, you still have to know ancient Egyptian to read it.”

     “Sure.”

     Steven opened a book and pointed to the text on its page.  “For example, like this one here, right?”

     “Funeral rites.”  Layla cut to the chase.

     “You’re Egyptian, aren’t you?”  Sarah guessed, drawing their attention to her.  “Whether you were born there or not, it’s in your blood, right?  I was trying to figure out what your ethnicity could be.  Like, my mother’s from India and my father’s from Morocco, even though they both live here in England and I was born here, so I learned Arabic and Hindi from them, but I was fluent in English first.  If you’ve got ties to Egypt, it’d make sense for you to know some form of the language.”

     Layla eyed Sarah rather critically.  After a moment, she spoke.  “You know, I thought I wasn’t gonna, but I like you.  You’re smart, and you’re not mean about it.”  Sarah offered her a small smile, unexpectedly touched by those words.  “And I’m just- I’m not buying this, Marc.  Use whatever accent you want, yeah, let’s just get this over with.”  She strode across the flat and picked up a bag, from which she produced a document envelope.  “You sent these papers but you never signed them.”

     “Did I?  Uh….”

     Layla presented them to him matter-of-factly. “This is what you wanted.”

     Steven fished in his breast pocket for his glasses.  “Have a look here….”  He said, taking the papers to read over them.

     “After everything, you told me that we needed to move on.”  Layla said.

     “Alright... divor- divorce?”  He looked up at Layla in surprise.

     “Yeah, we doing this or not?”  She demanded, nodding at the papers.

     He glanced back down at the documents.  “I would never divorce you.”

     Sarah tilted her head as everything clicked into place.  “You’re not just angry, you’re hurt.  You don’t want to divorce Marc, but you think that he’ll never let you be with him, so you’re going along with it, and you’re not even willing to hear Steven out about him not being Marc.”

     Layla shot a look at her, but otherwise ignored her.  “What are you doing?”  She demanded incredulously of Steven.

     He removed his glasses, his face earnest and his voice soft.  “Look, you seem absolutely lovely.  This Marc, on the other hand, is a right twit, yeah?”  He looked over at a small mirror on his wall as Sarah chuckled at the description.  He stammered a moment as he looked back at Layla.  “I don’t know how to explain what’s been happening.  I don’t expect you to believe me; I honestly don’t really believe myself.  All I can do is try to- try to show you what I found, yeah.”  As he spoke, he went over to the bag he’d taken from Marc’s storage locker, putting the divorce papers down.

     Sarah threw back the last of her tea and headed over to them, standing about a meter behind Layla with her arms crossed.  “I found this bag in the storage locker.”  He continued.  “Well, Sarah and I found it.”  He opened it, rifling through the monies.  “And inside of it is all sorts of things, most interestingly-” He paused abruptly, and Sarah frowned.

     “‘Most interestingly’ is what?”  Layla pressed.

     Steven looked back down at the bag, a myriad of emotions on his face.  “Nothing.”

     What had Marc said to him to make him stop?  Sarah added another bullet point to her ever-growing mental to-do list: smack Marc next time he was controlling Steven’s body.

     “Nothing?”  Layla repeated disbelievingly.

     “Nothing, never mind.”

     “What’s in there?”  Demanded Layla, going for the bag even as Steven tried to stop her.

     “Nothing.  Wait, wait-” He was cut off as Layla shoved him aside and delved into the bag.  “Bloody hell.”

     Layla ceased her search, pulling the golden scarab out of the bag with a combination of betrayal, anger, and wonder on her pretty face.  “The scarab pointing to Ammit’s ushabti- what we fought side by side for.”

     “No-” Steven tried to interject, but Sarah was still processing the new information Layla had casually blurted out.  An ushabti was a small representative figurine used in Ancient Egyptian funeral practices, one of the many items that was put into someone’s tomb.  So, apparently Ammit had a tomb and an ushabti- possibly separated from each other, given that Layla had said that the scarab led to the figurine instead of just Ammit’s tomb- and the scarab was indeed a compass of sorts, but drawn to a specific object or location instead of the magnetism of the North Pole.  Thirdly, Ammit’s tomb and/or ushabti was likely located somewhere in Egypt, as it was to the southeast- the direction the scarab had floated in- and a reasonable place for a tomb of an Egyptian demon deity to be located.

     “This whole one-man show is just- what, so that you can keep it for yourself?”  Layla demanded, cutting off Steven and returning Sarah’s attention to her.

     “No no no, I swear-” Steven again tried, but Layla wasn’t done yet.

     “Why?  After all that we’ve been through?  No, just stop!  Stop!  I’m supposed to believe anything you say with this shoved in- what, a gym bag?”

     “Take it!  Take it, you can have it.”  Steven told her, clearly taking the woman by surprise.  “Take it, take it, I don’t want it.  I swear.  Have it.”  By his voice, he was close to tears, so very worked up over the stress of the last few days and this massive burden that had descended upon him.  “I am not Marc Spector.  I’m Steven Grant.  I work in a gift shop- well, I used to work in a gift shop- and I think I’m in real danger.  Me and Sarah both are, and I think maybe that you might be the only person that can help us.  Please.”

     At the Egyptologist’s name, Layla looked over at her.  “He’s telling the truth, Layla.  This Marc bloke’s only been speaking to him for a couple days- through mirrors, apparently- and he somehow got ahold of that scarab, but now there’s this Ammit-worshipping cult creeper guy who set an invisible Egyptian jackal on us last night trying to get it back.  Steven could see it, I couldn’t, but it very nearly killed both of us, and then Marc took over his body or something and grew some fancy mummy armor and killed it.”

     Layla’s face had softened, the anger draining out of it and giving way to sadness.  No- heartbreak.  “You really don’t remember why we’ve been looking for this?”  She questioned Steven, now sounding like she herself was fighting back tears as she held up the scarab.  “Our adventures… or our life together?”

     “Oh, God, I wish I could.”  Steven told her, and Sarah knew he meant it.

     Abruptly, there was knocking on the door.  “Steven Grant?  Can we have a word?”  A feminine voice asked through it.

     “See?!”  Steven hissed, pointing at it.  “Oh, God, they’ve come for me.”

     “Why?”  Layla queried.

     “I vandalized the toilet.”

     Sarah rolled her eyes, shaking her head fondly.  “You did not.  Marc did, when he was killing that bloody jackal thing.  Besides, the museum’s not pressing charges, remember?”

     The woman knocked again.  “Yeah, just a minute.”  Steven called.

     She knocked more.  “Steven Grant?”

     “Yeah?”

     “DC Fitzgerald and DC Kennedy here.”  The woman replied as Layla pocketed the scarab.

     “Yeah, one- one second.”  He opened the door and peered through the opening.  Layla raised a finger to her lips to signal Sarah not to speak.  “Hello, officers.”

     “Steven Grant?”

     He nodded, and Layla made a silent beeline for one of the windows.  “I think so, yeah.  I mean- yeah, yep, yes.  That’s me- 100% Steven Grant.”  Sarah shook her head at the absolutely overkill confirmation, then frowned.  Why was this woman so insistent about his name?  “Sorry, I was just having a bit of a day.”  He apologized.

     “Mind if we come in, Mr. Grant?”

     “Oh, um, actually, right now isn’t-” he looked over his shoulder back into the flat, but his protests were cut off.

     “Appreciate it.”  A man said, thrusting the door open and strolling in.  Sarah narrowed her eyes at his behavior- surely that wasn’t legal.

     “Anyone else here with you?”  The female DC asked, her eyes lighting on Sarah a moment later.

     “Just me.”  Sarah smiled.  “What seems to be the problem, officers?”

     They didn’t answer, both of them walking deeply into the flat, more intrusively than Layla had.  “So, um… yeah.  Is this about the toilet?”  He asked nervously.  “’Cause it’s been dealt with, yeah.  I’ve been sacked, and uh, yeah, that’s….” he trailed off, seeing the female DC standing by his ringed-with-sand bed, holding the singular ankle restraint.  “I have a sleeping disorder.”  She dropped it and walked away.  “And, yeah, well- the museum said that they, uh, wouldn’t press charges as long as, uh-” The sound of his shower curtain being yanked back cut him off briefly.  “-as long as I do it in installments.  They- They uh, they said that I could.”

     Steven turned abruptly to see the male DC standing quite close to him, holding a small pyramid.  “What’s this?”

     “It’s a paperweight.”  Steven answered.

     “Where’d you get it?”

     “Paperweight shop.”

     The sound of pealing bells reached their ears, and the female DC strode toward the window Layla had been heading for- and apparently snuck out of, since she was missing and the window was open.  Sarah cursed her failure to notice that.

     “You’re in possession of a stolen item.”  The man told Steven as he sat down.

     “Oh, yeah… no, I don’t have it.”  He told him as the DC went into the bag the scarab had been in.  Sarah subtly tugged her jeans higher up on her hips and the back of her jacket further down to better conceal the gun that had also been in that bag.  Without him being able to produce a legitimate firearms license, he’d’ve gotten into a world of trouble for having it in the flat.  “I don’t, no.  It’s not here.”

     The male DC took Marc’s passport out of the bag, and Sarah sucked in a breath quietly.  “‘Marc Spector’?”  He read, and Sarah finally realized something very suspicious about him- he was American.

     So were Marc and Layla.  And Arthur Harrow.

     And this American DC, who clearly held no regard for at least some laws (Danny had been very emphatic in teaching the team their rights in case they ever had trouble with police, whether it was anomaly-related or not), was very intently searching for something.  Sarah was willing to bet it was the scarab, and that these coppers weren’t actually coppers, but cultists of Ammit.  She casually put one hand on her hip, readying it to whip out the pistol.

     “That’s not mine.”  Steven told the man.

     “Funny that.”  He sneered, sauntering up to Steven and lowering himself to Steven’s height, holding the passport up and open.  “Fella looks just like you.”

     “Twin brother adopted at birth.”  Sarah deadpanned.

     “Fake passport and a thief?”  The woman said, and Sarah felt the pit of dread in her stomach worsen as she realized where this was going.  The man clicked his tongue disapprovingly.  “I think you best come with us, son.”

     “And her.”  The man jutted his chin indicatively at Sarah.  “Aiding and abetting, accessory after the fact.”

     Sarah rolled her eyes, not even bothering to defend herself.  Both fake cops- she was sure of it now- produced handcuffs, and when Steven tried to back away, the man shoved him down face-first on the floor and cuffed his hands behind his back.  Fearing the gun would be discovered, Sarah presented her hands to the woman with a calm façade.  They were ‘escorted’ to the car and put into the backseat without so much as a mention of their rights.  Steven seemed too upset and distressed to notice that error in their disguises.

One of Sarah’s lines is a slight variation of one of Amy Pond’s lines from Doctor Who, specifically “Vincent and The Doctor”.

[skelltan]

NWA week in review - 10/11 Dec

Australian Sunday? Time for the NWA recap. Brace yourselves, this is a biggun

Powerrr

major impact star bully ray returns to the nwa

this is the championship series. 8 teams compete. everyone on the winning team gets a title shot – of what title, it’s not specified, but the way they word it, singles titles. Whoever gets most points wins. submission is 6 points, pinfall is 5, countout is 2 and a draw is 2 for each. a dq win is 1 point but an “extreme” dq, your opponent gets 3 points. I guess by extreme they mean more than a single weapon spot or whatever.

then the match graphic shows that this is team great vs team fixers. they each have 5 members but this is just a singles match so I’m guessing there are 8 teams with 5 members each but they only do singles matches? a bit fucking weird if true, especially because we don’t see why or how any of these teams formed. also that means this is gonna go on for at least 40 matches.

anyways is odinson v bully ray

apparently most of the crowd is the roster? so I guess they couldn’t get a huge crowd

its a draw so both teams get 2 points

tim storm isn’t on commentary, he’s busy with something

oh boy tyrus is here to do a promo

“I am the most seen nwa heavyweight champion of all time” – tyrus

oh boy ec3 and thom latimer are at it again

commentary talks about ec3 controlling narratives so I guess every time he wrestles they must mention that

ec3 is the morbius of wrestling

ec3 gets dqed so that’s 1 point for his team

wait what? the match goes on?

thom latimer gets an extreme dq but his eyes got gouged earlier so he doesn’t know ec3 made it to the ropes so.

apparently there can only be 2 disqualifications in a row so the match is over. they didn’t say that so while I’m sure they just are shit at telling us the rules it feels like they’re making up rules as they go along

to blaze through the tourney we have a 4 way. don’t ask me who’s in it or who’s on what team, I do not care enough to tell you. whoever wins picks what team they’re on, though. it’s elimination so they all get picks in order of who gets pins first.

the little chippendale dude from last week does a dance

the little chippendale guy says he’s the biggest in this match so I guess he’s doing a crash holly gimmick. he wins first fall

rather than him getting first pick it’s whoever is eliminated last. ok. to be fair commentary did say this and I wasn’t paying attention but I still think first pinfall should be first pick, but maybe that’s me

chippendale guy gets 2 successive pins to win and does his dance

fixers are here with nerf guns. goddamn it I actually laughed. “I got a couple of broads, huh?! Sorry, that’s chicks if you’re trying to be politically correct! One of them even speaks spanish, and one of them is a king!”

we got judais and pj hawx against rush freeman and damage

team great win via pinfall for 5 points. the match ended after the pinfall so I guess you can get dqed twice but a pinfall or submission ends it.

cyon is interviewed and puts over his team and austin idol. I thought I heard them say cyon is his son on prior shows and yeah, they definitely say it here.

kamille is here and pissed at ec3’s actions. I quote.

"ec3, do you know the rules of wrestling?"

"you speak in these weird riddles, and you try to act like you have a master plan, like you're smarter than everybody else - do you even know what's going on? you have no idea what you're saying. you just have a weird fetish for thom"

main event, thrillbilly silas for team tyrus vs kratos on team brickhouse.

little chippendale man will be on tyrus’ team, knockoff eugene will be on team great and one of the other two is on kamille’s team while anthony andrews is on team gold.

thrillbilly gets the pin

this was. the most entertaining episode of powerrr I’ve seen imo. you got some fuckery, you got 3 backstage segments, you got 4 matches. that’s what I call bang for your buck. fwiw the action didn’t look that bad tbh but again I’m not really watching this. my biggest complaint is how the champion series makes no sense.

USA

a bunch of people in each team do promos

kilynn king and angelina love have a match. the ref was slow on a count and I can’t tell if there’s a story or that was a legit botch. angelina tapped clean, so if it’s a story, it isn’t clear yet.

more team promos, I don’t really care

we have question mark 2 vs carnage

question mark 2 guys a submission win

more team promos

now we got marti belle vs missa kate

marti belle got counted out

the announcer says team fixers have been eliminated so I guess they’re not even in this tournament anymore?

we got allisyn kay and kayla kassidy vs madi and samantha starr in the main event

kayla’s team gets dqed for a hair pull, but as established, there’s one more dq to go before it’s over

time limit expires but both teams have a tie so now the alternates from each team must come in for a tiebreaker. wow! competent booking!

more team promos

its one of the guys from the 4 way and the little chippendale dude

little chippendale man wins so kamille’s team is out

again the action looked fine and while i didn't care for the promos i think they managed their time pretty well in this episode, plus like i said the booking of the main was competent so. wow. best nwa week yet (even if most of my enjoyment is ironic), let's hope they keep it up

[anime-dub-transcripts]

Hetalia: World Series Episode #50: Extra Episode 2 Transcript

This episode has Halloween, Italy and Germany reminiscing, and Italy, Austria, and Hungary hanging out.

Italy: Hey, Gunday!

Germany: Euh?

Italy: I want some candy now; can I have some candy now, please?

{Caption: Today is Halloween}

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

Poland: Halloween is the rocks! We get to extort candy…so badass, right?

Lithuania: I guess. Sort of, right. Heah…

Lithuania’s thoughts: I wonder if I should stop worrying why Poland is dressing up like woman. Heah! Yes. It’s none of my business. He’s fine.

Poland: Okay, we will be doing the threatening to whoever comes to door.

Lithuania: Or maybe we don’t. I’m kind of nervous.

Russia: Hehehehe! Hehehehehe!

Latvia: Where are Poland and Lithuania? They’re supposed to be here already.

Estonia: I don’t know, they said they were picking up Russia and heading over.

Britain: Mwhmhmhmhm! WHY THE BLOODY HELL IS NO ONE COMING OVER TO MY HOUSE?!

Sealand: Blimey, mine neither!

{Caption: America’s childhood}

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

Poland: Hetalia!

{Caption: Hetalia}

Woman: Coming! Hehe! Heah!

France: Mwah! Trick or treat, but I’ll give you a trick either way! The treat is my crotch monster.

Woman’s thoughts: Pervert alert!

France: Bonjour, I am here!

(Bonjour: Hello → French)

France: Sorry to be so late. Halloween is not Halloween if I’m not being questioned by the police, eh? Honhonhonhonhon!

Britain: Oh yes; quite, quite.

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

France: Hetalia!

{Caption: Hetalia}

Germany: Well…I guess it’s about time.

Italy: Yeah. We won’t be able to see each other for, like, ever.

Germany: Ja.

(Ja: Yes → German)

Italy: This is kind of bringing up lots of old memories, you know?

Germany: Ja.

(Ja: Yes → German)

Italy: Hey, Germany? Do you remember this one time?

Germany: Hm?

Italy: How could you forget? We were so out of control.

Flashback Italy: Eh, eh, eh, eh.

Flashback Germany: Mm…grr…mmnnnnnhhhhhh!

Germany: WHY IS THAT WHAT YOU REMEMBER?!

Italy: I don’t know!

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

Germany: HETALIA!

{Caption: Hetalia}

Germany: Well…I guess it’s about time.

Italy: Yeah. We won’t be able to see each other for, like, ever.

Germany: Ja.

(Ja: Yes → German)

Italy: This is kind of bringing up lots of old memories, you know?

Germany: Ja.

(Ja: Yes → German)

Italy: Hey, Germany? Do you remember this one time?

Germany: Hm?

Italy: How could you forget?

Flashback Germany: Hm?

Flashback Germany, Flashback Italy [reading from letter]: Dear Germany, it’s your friend, Italy. I had a really scary dream last night…

Flashback Italy [in a letter]: …and I don’t want it to come true. I dreamt you stopped being my BFF because Russia was cooler and less like…well… me! Your friend forever, Italy Veneziano. P.S. Those sausages you left outside taste really bad.

Flashback Germany: Hallo, Italy?

(Hallo: Hello → German)

Flashback Italy: Aah!

Flashback Germany: I wanted to speak with you for one minute if that is okay. Uh…I just want to say…Russia will not be interfering with our friendship. So we can be best friends forever.

Flashback Italy: Wow! How cool! I didn’t know that you were telepathetic!

Flashback Germany: Ja…that, and I read idiot.

(Ja: Yes → German)

Flashback Germany: Anyway, I will swear this oath to you if you would like.

Flashback Italy: Yeah! Pinky swear!

Flashback Germany: Ja…

(Ja: Yes → German)

Germany: Huah…mm. Why is that what you remember?

German soldier: Germany! Seriously! It is time for us to go!

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

Italy: Hey, Mr. Austria, I’m wanting to eat candy.

Austria: Fine, long as it’s not pasta.

Hungary: Here you go! We’ve been working on these since yesterday!

Italy: Yay! Nomnomnom…your sweets, they taste so tasty in my mouth, Mr. Austria!

Austria: You cannot eat nothing but the candy or else you will get sick like the dog.

Italy: Woof!

Hungary: Funny!

Italy: I got a lotta candy today, lady.

Hungary: I did too, mister!

{Caption: To be continued}

[kimnjss]

how sticky | kth

⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader // taehyung focus. ⇢ genre: smut. // pwp. ⇢ word count: 7.6K ⇢ theme: established relationships.  ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, poly relationship, handjobs, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), public sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up lovelies), all the boys wanna kiss yn, cum inside/stuffing, slight over stimulation if you squint. ⇢ A/N: literally this idea came to me while watching the first episode and seeing tae washes the dishes sooo, here you goo!! lmao x also if it seems messy or all over the place, that’s bc i wrote this while streaming dynamite and obvi got distracted . 

Namjoon is the first to spot you, just as you're tugging your suitcase from the trunk of your car. The large grin that takes over his features as he makes his way over to you, brown hair flopping in the wind with each step he takes. A silver pot held in his hands that he must've forgotten the purpose of upon setting sights on you.

“You're here.” He says with a large smile, dimples showing while he leaning down to press a soft kiss to your waiting lips. “Did you eat?”

Just with one look around the backyard, you can tell that they just finished eating. Had hoped to arrive a bit earlier so you'd be able to eat with them. “Not yet,” He looked good, as usual, but oddly more attractive in this outdoor environment.

The blue two-piece outfit, which you had quickly realized was a favorite of his, hung loosely around his body. The muscles in his arms flexed as he kept his grip on the pot in his hand. Eyes turn to half-moons with the way he was smiling at you.

It had been a few weeks since you saw them last. What with their jam packed schedule and you keeping up with the things going on in your own life, there wasn't really time to be together the way you wanted. A constant long-distance relationship with the seven of them, even if they were only a few miles away.

Which was the biggest reason you were jumping on the chance to spend this week with them. Secluded with nothing to do but be together. It had been Jin who had suggested it, finding out that you had the same week free. What better way to spend it then with your boyfriends? Agreement coming from his younger members instantly and to your surprise, the staff was quick to agree as well. 

Most times riddled a distraction, but it seemed that you being here sort of fit the relaxation, recharging theme of this entire trip. Zero complaints from you, of course, you were packing your bags the moment you got the green light.

“I'll make you a plate, wait.”

All of a sudden remembering he had been in the middle of doing something before seeing you. Quick steps are taken into the house with the pot in hand and you're right behind him, marveling at the huge land they had rented out for this. All of the greens of the mountains and grass was a pretty contrast to the bright blue sky, the sparkling lake that you couldn't wait to try out.

And there was so much stuff! Placed all over the place from where you can see, each item matching a different member's personality so well that you could guess who asked for what. 

Joon is coming back, hands-free, but only to grab your suitcase, wheeling it into the house. He's gone talking to whoever is in the kitchen before he's returning, arm easily wrapping around your waist as he leads you down the hill.

“You came here looking refreshed,” He notes, finally saying out loud what he had been thinking since you were pulling the suitcase from the car.

Out of all of them, Namjoon seemed to pay a lot of attention to the way you looked. And no, not just the clothes you wore and how they fit – but like deeper. He paid a lot of attention to your facial expressions more than anything, reading your demeanor as if it was his latest page-turner.

A blessing and a curse, because although he knew when something was bothering you and tried his best to fix it without you saying a word. It was also really, extremely hard to hide things for him. Not that you tried to often.

“It was a nice drive and I'm excited to spend time with you guys,” The smile that takes over your features is causing a flutter in his heart, his large hand landing on your arm that you've wrapped around his torso – walking the rest of the way like that.

Jimin is whipping around at the sound of footsteps approaching, and you're eyes are widening at the sight of him. Unwrapping yourself from Joon's body, you're rushing the rest of your steps hands outstretched to touch the edge of the gat hanging from his neck.

“You actually wore it?” Speaking through a slight giggle and he's grinning, hands finding home on your torso as he playfully rolls his eyes. “Of course I wore it, so you better deliver,”

The result of a drunk game of Truth or Dare between the two of you. He spent the entire night choosing truth, but as soon as he was picking dare you were telling him to wear his new hanbok for the first day of shooting. He was agreeing with a roll of his eyes, boasting about how easy it was.

Then on your turn, he was hitting you with that sly grin of his. 'If I wear my hanbok for shooting, then you need to let me...' Words trailing off as he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows in your direction. You were quick to put two and two together of what he wanted. And you were agreeing because of course, you wanted it too.

With a distracted nod, your eyes are shifting to the moving figure behind him. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” Breaking from his grasp just as Namjoon is extending the full bowl in your direction.

You thank him with a wide smile, which he acknowledges with a short nod – going back to cleaning up while you take a seat at the table. Sat eating the food that you can tell was made by Jungkook as you watch your two men move around the yard until Joon is disappearing into the house again. Someone else exiting at the same time.

“I thought I heard your voice!” There's a smile in his voice that you can detect without having to listen very hard. And you're proven right as you lift your head, being met with Hoseok's bright smile. “When'd you get here?” He wonders once he's closer, taking the empty spot beside you.

“Not too long ago,” You speak through the mouthful of food in your mouth, the words you're speaking coming out a murmured mess. 

The smile on Hoseok's face only grows, his hand lifting to push his hair back on his forehead. “I missed you.” A random confession that has heat rising in your cheeks. He always did this. Knew what a few simple words did to your mind and took pleasure in making you flustered whenever possible.

This time was no different. Just three words and you were forced to put extra focus on your noodles. He missed you. Obviously, you missed him – that's a given. But the fact that he, Jung Hoseok actually missed you and was just telling you about it casually. With that smile on his face. Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I missed you too.” A delayed reply, but he's not faltering. Doesn't even think twice about what you could have been thinking about in the time it took you to answer. Instead, he's reaching his arm to wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body into his so he's able to press a dozen chaste kisses to the top of your head.

And then just like that, he's releasing you. Not even giving you a moment to react before he's standing from his spot beside you and moving to help Jimin clean up the outside area.

After the third time, you're asked to scoot over, you're standing feeling as though you're in the way of the cleaning. So, you go to find the others that you haven't seen yet. Thanks to a FaceTime call from Jungkook while they were going through the tour, you had a pretty good understanding of the layout of this place.

Heading over the hill to the Upper House, bowl in hand. And you're grinning when you spot Jin standing out front, staring at the line of delivered groceries in front of him. “Jinnie!” You're calling with a wave of your hand, and he's turning around.

“Yn!” He calls, just as loud – waving you over with one frantic hand.

Easily speeding up your footsteps, it's not long before you're standing in front of him. Arms wrapped around his torso in a tight hug. “What are you doing?” He's out of your hold now, bending to lift the bags off the ground.

“Putting groceries away.”

Following behind him, you shovel mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth while sinking down at the island. For a little while, you're able to enjoy your meal and engage in broken chatter was Jin moves in and out of the house.

He's filling you in on all the plans he has for this trip and the things he's excited about and you listen with a smile on your face. Loving the way he looks when he's completely in his element, eyes sparkling as he talks about being able to fish with Yoongi.

Speaking of Yoongi. Sauntering out from God knows where, white tee hanging loose – revealing a bit of his chest, baggy black jeans that you've now decided is the only thing you ever want to see him in. His hair is unkempt, laying messily over his forehead and only slightly covering his eyes.

There's a smirk on his face when he notices the blatant way you're gawking at him, sinking into the seat beside you – his cold hand not hesitating to reach for your thigh. “You're here?” He speaks in the bored uninterested drawl that you've become used to. Use to read too much into it before you were realizing that just the way he talked.

Now it had the ability to have heat rushing through your veins, especially if he was using that voice when telling you just exactly he wanted to do to you. Never failed to have you basically salivating, putty for him.

“I just came...” The patterns he draws on your inner thigh stills as he lifts his eyes to look at you, a chuckle falling from his lips. “Did you?” He asks teasingly and you're too dazed to pick up on the double meaning of your words.

His hand inches further up your thigh until the tips of his fingers are just inches from reaching the hem of your mesh shorts. Without a thought, your legs are opening for him – giving him as much room as he needs to do whatever he wants.

Yoongi's grinning at your compliance, his lips are just inches for yours. He takes a moment to study your features. Lips shiny with grease, cheeks slightly flushed, eyes staring unfocused. A slow grin lifts the corners of his lips moments before he's leaning in closer.

Yoongi kisses you once as if he's testing the waters before diving in. Grip tightening on your thigh, pulling your body closer to his while he slowly moves his mouth over yours. Soft tongue slowly tracing over your lower lip and you're instantly opening up for him.

The groan that leaves his lips from the feeling of your wet muscles meeting as arousal rushing through your veins and pooling between your legs, fingers reaching to grasp the rough material of his pants for some type of grounding.

And he grins, teeth gently tugging at your lower lip as his hand slides up your thigh toward your waist. So sure he's fingers are about to sneak underneath your shirt, so you giddily wait for the contact. 

But it never comes. "Would you let the girl breathe, she just got here." Is what you hear.

Jimin, into the Upper House to change into something comfortable. And all too ready to scold his Hyung for trying something with you when it hasn't even been an hour. With a roll of those dark eyes of his, Yoongi is leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips – much different from what he had initially planned.

Moment ruined, he's standing from his spot beside you. “I'm gonna go help Jin,” He announces to no one in particular, cheeks darkened with pink from having been caught. Yoongi talked a big game, but he was the most private out of the boys. Wasn't one for an unwarranted audience and preferred to have you to himself rather than sharing you.

“Tae's washing dishes if you're done with that.” He's jutting his chin out to point at your empty bowl on the island. As he speaks, he undoes the tie of his top letting it sag at his shoulders before he's shrugging it off. And you watch his fingers carefully, allowing your mind to wander to just how skilled he was with those fingers.

Playing the same notes for the past eight years on the piano wasn't the only thing he was good at. It's a moment before you register his words enough to stand to your feet, plucking your plate up and exiting the Upper House to find Taehyung.

Back to you as he scrubs the inside of the bowl, you watch as his hips sway to whatever song he's got going in his head. No idea that you're entering the kitchen or that you've arrived – just in his own world.

Taehyung looks handsome even from the back. 

His broad shoulders were still visible underneath the brown top that was just so him. He wore a pair of olive green shorts, giving you a perfect view of his strong legs and the way they flexed with the movement of his feet. Thoroughly riled up from Yoongi's interrupted touches from before, you're struck with a very mischievous thought.

Light steps are taken in Taehyung's direction, quickly setting your bowl in the sink before reaching your arms to wrap around his waist. Palms sneaking underneath the fabric of his shirt so you're able to touch his soft belly. You feel him still against you, taking a moment to put together that it's you back hugging him like this.

He's turning just enough so he can look down at you, a large smile spread across his lips as his eyes take in your face that looks brighter for some reason. “How long have you been there?” Tae tries to hug you back but gives up because of the awkward position.

“Not long,” You answer, nose pressed in the dip of his back after he's turned. Your lips place soft kisses against his covered back, the tips of his fingers brushing over the skin of his stomach. “I missed you.”

And you had. There was just something about Taehyung that drove you crazy with little to no effort. Had to be his aura. The way he carried himself. The unreadable expression that always decorated his features. How he was able to smile with his entire face, pulling large smiles on the lips of the people around him.

All of that and the simple fact of how well the boy could fuck. Of course, all of the guys knew how you make you feel good. All in their own ways, different and unique and still good. But Taehyung. Fuck, Kim Taehyung. A living Sex God, with a thick long cock that he knew how to use. Long fingers that could bring you to climax over and over again with very little time in between. And that mouth. God, that mouth. 

Porn stars would blush at the dirty things that came out of that boy's mouth.

Taehyung's eyebrow is lifting at the mindless way your fingers are dipping lower down his body, flinching just slightly when the tips of your fingers are grazing his quickly hardening cock. “That type of missed me, huh?” He's grinning, you can tell without having to see his face.

Head nodding slightly, you continue placing gentle kisses against his back – fingers drawing teasing lines over his cock through the fabric of his shorts. “Don't be a tease,” He hisses.

His wet, glove covered hand is wrapping around your wrist – forcing more of his cock underneath your palm. A soft moan falls from your lips at the feeling of it twitching with the new friction. Tae's hips rock slowly with the movement of your hand, half of his attention still on the dishes he washes.

And you pout. Want to turn his mind to mush like he's done to you many times before. Until the only thing he can think about is you and how you're making him feel. Fuck the dishes.

Even on your tiptoes, you're only able to reach the nape of his neck. But it's the first bit of bare skin you're able to press your lips against so you settle for it. Leaving open mouth kisses on it while your fingers slowly make their way underneath the waistband of his shorts.

Pleased to find he had decided to forego underwear, you're instantly met with the warmth of his shaft. A low cruse falling from his lips when your cool palm is wrapping around him. And you hold it there. Waiting to hear the scoff that falls from his lips as he starts to rock his hips again – his cock sliding through your grip easily.

The sound of his breathy groans fills the kitchen, egging you on. You can feel him growing harder in your hand and the slow drag of his hips is quickly driving you crazy until you're giving in to the tiny game you were playing and moving your hand.

“Oh, fuck.” Tae hisses, the dish he had been holding crashing into the sink as his fists reach to grip the edge of the sink. Voice gruff and it's usual deep, it has a wash of arousal flooding your body and fueling your movements. Free hand lifting to grasp his hipbone, holding him steady as you bring your hand up toward his tip.

A simple swipe of your thumb over his bulbous has a shiver running down his spine and a grin pulling on your lips. Strokes on his shaft speeding up as the sound of his breathy groans tickled your ears. Hips stuttering underneath your grasp in an attempt to take more than what you were willing to give him.

Always so greedy.

“Does it feel good?” Voice hushed where he can just barely hear.

Taehyung is quick to nod his head, though. “Your hand feels so good on me, Yn. Faster,” He whines, something that you're not quite used to hearing from him. Especially over a simple handjob.

He must've missed you a lot more than he was willing to admit.

And because your soul purpose is to give Taehyung any and everything he asks for, you're rubbing down on him quicker, squeezing him a bit harder. His cock twitches and jumps in your hold and you're fastened by the effect you have on him that your grip on his hip is loosening – allowing him to freely roll his hips upward.

A strong arm is reaching back while his body twists, large glove covered hand tangled in your hair to hold your head steady. For the first time, you're getting a good look at his face. Eyes blown and unfocused, his cheeks flushed and lips bitten. He looks so sexy staring at you as if it's taking all his restraint not to devour you.

The way he leans in, crashing his lips into yours for a sloppy hungry kiss only validates your thoughts. Grip tightening in your hair to hold your head still while his tongue tickles the roof of your mouth.

You try, desperately, to keep your focus on the movement of your hand. Letting him lick into your mouth and kissing him just as much as you can without completely losing your mind. Taehyung, like his six other teammates, worked really well with his mouth. In all ways.

He's nibbling on your lower lip, harsh breaths exiting his nostrils as your thumb runs over the underside of his cock. So close and you can tell from the now frantic roll of his hips. And you're more than ready to bring him there, loved watching him fall apart for you, because of you.

More than ready to have him explode in your palm so you can like it up when the sharp knock on the glass behind you is stilling your movements. Head turning to peak behind you, but Taehyung does stop his head tilting so he's able to suck wet hickeys into your warm skin.

Hoseok stands on the other side of the door, looking extremely impatient. You move to pull your hand from his pants, but Taehyung is quick to grasp your wrist. “Yn, I swear to God.” He speaks through gritted teeth and you're flashing a bright smile up at him.

“It's Hobi,” There's another knock on the glass, “He can't just stand out there,” Laughing, you manage to wiggle yourself out of Taehyung's grasp. He watches you with squinted eyes as you pull the door open for his Hyung.

Cued in on what had been keeping you, a teasing smirk plays on his lips. “What? You're just in here giving Taehyungie all the attention?” Both hands knit into your hair from underneath, slowly closing the space between you two.

“He's working hard in here,” You defend with a slight pout. Upon realizing he wasn't going to be getting off any time soon, Tae turns his attention back to the dishes. Scrubbing the gunk off with much for strength than needed, quiet grumbles leaving his lips.

“I worked hard too, cleaned up outside all by myself. What do I get?” Lips a mere inches from yours, all you'd have to do was lift up onto your tiptoes to feel their softness. “I saw Jiminie helping you.”

Hoseok is rolling his eyes at the slight detail. You're teasing him, he can tell from the way you're gripping his shirt in your fists. Like you're desperate to feel him but at the same time seeing how much you can hold back.

What you failed to realize was, he was much better at teasing than you. Without a second thought, he's leaning down to press his lips against yours. Kiss much different from Taehyung's. More controlled. More intense. Strong hands reach for your thighs, easily lifting your body off of the floor and setting you to sit on the countertop.

He's taking up space between your legs, large hands set on your thighs while he sucks your lower lip into his mouth. You can feel the smirk that plays on his lips from the sound of your moan. 

Hoseok responds by reaching back to give your ass a firm squeeze, pulling your body toward his. He's hard. You can feel it through the fabric of his neon shorts, but the moment you're angling your hips to feel more of him – he's pulling back. 

“Jimin should finish up, hm?” Recalling your earlier comment with a teasing glint in his eye. Planting a soft kiss to your lips, he backs away attention now on Namjoon who had entered with a bag of groceries. As if nothing had happened.

Body buzzing and senses fogged, you're left to wonder just how many times you'd be denied the release you craved.

The two men chatted amongst each other mindlessly, surveying the contents of the fully stalked fridge in front of them. Joon is pulling a bottle of coffee from the bunch, handing it over to you with a soft smile before twisting the cap on his own. You watch as he wraps his plump lips around the edge, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the liquid down.

Plopping down on the soft red cushion, you watch as Joon moves to offer Tae a sip of his drink. Which he's denying with a pout of his lips. From where you're sitting, you can see that his bulge has gone down a bit – but the foggy need for sexual release stays. You know the feeling. Had half the mind to get on your knees for him right then and there, not like either of them would complain.

They did share you, at times. And those were the times that you secretly hoped for each time you were being interrupted with one of them. But, all of them were so different from their interests and really liked the idea of being alone with you – it didn't happen as often as you'd like.

You could simply suggest it and no doubt they'd agree to the idea. Ready to do whatever you asked to fill your desire. But you liked the surprise of not knowing just when you'd be taking two cocks, or three, or maybe even four. All seven if the weather was right. The suspense had a great effect on you.

Jimin is entering the main house just as halfway through drinking your chilled coffee. Fully changed out of his hanbok, standing in a pair of loose-fitting black shorts and a white SAINT LAURENT tee. Dark hair floppy messily at the top of his head, evident that he's been running his fingers through it.

He looked good enough to eat and if he kept looking at you with those bedroom eyes, you were about to do just that. Beeline made in your direction, settling in the spot beside you. An innocent hand lands on your thigh and your brain short circuits, registering it as anything but.

Without a word, he's reaching for your bottle, taking a long sip from it before licking the drip from his lips. “Where's Kookie?” You ask, forcing your thoughts not to wander too much. And realizing you had yet to see that bunny smile of his, hear the cute way he say's 'Noona' as he wobbles in your direction.

The same age as Namjoon which made you older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook – yet Jungkook was the only one out of the three that actually referred to you as Noona. No matter how many times you'd tell him to speak comfortably with you, he'd refuse with blushed and a shake of his head.

The others believed he got off on it, the subtle reminder that you were older than him but he was still able to turn you to make you fall apart with the simple flex of his thigh. “You haven't seen him?” Hoseok speaks with his head inches deep in the fridge and you shake your head despite the fact he cannot see you.

“He’ll come running the moment he hears you're here,” Deciding that your drink is his now, Jimin stands from his spot beside you heading further into the house. Steps cut off by Jungkook turning the corner, as if on cue.

“What!?” A large grin on his lips as his sparkling eyes land on you. Soft hair bouncing as he skips over to you, leaning over the counter so you're face to face. Tattooed hand reaching forward to enclose the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your foreheads are touching. “You didn't tell me you were here, Noona.” Eyebrow arched and head tilted to the side.

You can barely see his face with how close you are to it, but there's no doubt that he looks attractive as hell right now in his attempt to be intimidating. Lower lip poking out in a slight plea, “I'm sorry, baby. I was asking about you, though.”

Jungkook only half listens to your words. Some space put between you and he takes advantage of that by allowing his eyes to take in your appearance greedily. Aware of the warmer temperature, you had decided a simple v-neck crop top would suffice. From this angle, he could see straight down your top. And he was doing very little to hide the fact that he was looking, respectfully.

“I'm sure you can think of some ways to make it up to me. Right, Noona?” Hand slipping from the back of your neck, the tips of his fingers brushing over the collar of your shirt. Lips suddenly dry, your tongue is jutting out to wet them. Thighs squeeze together instinctively at the promise his words held.

A contrast to his demeanor, Jungkook is placing a sweet kiss on your lips. One that lingers for a second shorter than you want, but the small smile on his lips upon pulling away is enough to make your heart melt.

All at once, he's releasing you and moving on to follow Jimin out of the kitchen. Taehyung is finishing up he dishes at the same moment, shaking his hands of the water droplets before wiping the excess onto his shorts.

Alone in the room with him again and you feel the atmosphere shift as soon as his eyes settle on you. Finally able to get a good look at you and taking in just how short your shorts are and how thin the material of your top is. But Taehyung is a gentleman when he wants to be. 

His hand rests on your back, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bare skin your shirt leaves exposed. “Want to go for a walk?” Teeth biting into his plump lower lip. Instantly, you're sliding from your seat head nodding at his words.

Taehyung's arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body into his chest and you just faintly see the grin on his face before you're being enveloped in his sweet scent. Guided steps are taken into the game room where Namjoon sits, a laugh leaving his lips at the weird way the two of you are walking.

“What are you making?”

“A boat,” Joon says with a wide smile, lifting the plastic boat to show you. Cutie. Impatient, Taehyung is pushing his hips forward into yours. Even through the layers and with the small fact that he's not exactly hard at the moment – you can still feel his bulge against your ass cheek.

But he doesn't stop there, slowly dragging his hips up so you can feel his entire length. A strangled gasp is leaving your lips that has Taehyung smirking, Namjoon too focused on whether or not he just broke his model, doesn't notice.

Arms tightening around your waist, Taehyung takes a step forward – urging you to do the same.

When Tae said he wanted to take you on a walk, he wasn't speaking in sexual innuendos. You had actually gone for a walk around the land. Hand in hand making comfortable chatter as you soaked in the nice weather.

Somehow, you managed to convince yourself that he hadn't been itching to get you alone to fuck you – but really just wanted to spend some time alone with you. It's sweet when you think about it. The gentle way he's talking to you about the nervousness that surrounds working on his new mixtape. His soft thumb brushing over your knuckles as you assure him that everything will turn out alright.

It's not until you're reaching the picnic table just a few feet from the water, is he wrapping his arm around your hips. Lifting you from the ground as if you weighed nothing and setting you down on the table.

Blunt nails lightly dragging over the back of your knees as he gently spreads your legs so he's able to stand in the middle of them. He's easily hooking your legs around his waist, ankles instantly locking to pull him closer to you. “You know what I want to do right now?” 

“What?” You humor him, even though you could probably guess. Arms lifting to wrap around his neck, head tilting to the side as a slight smirk plays on your lips. His mouth hovers over your ear, wet brushing over the shell of it as he speaks.

“Wanna taste that sweet little cunt. Bet you're already soaked from all the attention you've been getting.” To prove his point, Tae's fingers trail up between your thighs. Your body shudders as he drags a single digit over your slit through the fabric.

He wasn't wrong, had started to feel the heat pool between your legs when Yoongi first kissed you. Mind driving you insane with being able to be with them for this entire week. All of them. It was safe to say it had gotten to you in a very obvious way.

Not one to tease, Taehyung is using his long fingers to push both your shorts and panties to the side so his fingers can press against your bare skin. A surprised gasp leaving your lips with the nudge on your clit, hips bowing toward him. He grins.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?” He's a little breathless, but his fingers never falter. A single digit slipping past your folds and pushing through your walls. “Shit.” He chuckles at the enthusiastic way you nod your hand, tongue rolling over his lips before biting down. “Yeah? Gonna cum all sloppy on my tongue, baby? Let me hear you.”

At the end of his words, his thumb is pressing into your clit, rolling it around lazily as his finger moves slowly inside of you. “Y-yes-” Words breaking on a loud whine, he slows his fingers – waiting. “Wanna cum on your tongue, Tae... p-please.” Hips lifting to rock into his hand but he's pulling back, leaving you feeling empty.

It doesn't last long because he's quick with lifting your leg. Fingers wet with your arousal and wrapped around your thigh, bringing it up to his shoulder. Tae lowers himself to his knees in front of you, at the same time pushing the useless material aside before diving in.

Taehyung watches you through his long eyelashes while dragging his tongue along your folds. Always loved the way you looked when he was between your legs. The way you tried to keep your eyes open to watch him, biting your lip in an attempt to keep quiet, fingers tangling in his hair – holding him close. Hot.

Tongue dragging up to flick against your clit, Taehyung reaches for your other ankle. Lifting your leg over his shoulder so he's completely enclosed by your legs. Plush lips wrap around your bundle of nerves, sucking gently while he's pushing two fingers past your walls. 

“Oh! Tae, fuck...” Panting at this point, grip in his hair used to pull him tighter against you. His free hand reaching around to sneak underneath the hem of your shorts, palming your ass while pulling you closer. Fingers angled to brush against the sweet spot inside of you, loving the way you squirm underneath him.

Just faintly, you can see the outline of his hard cock through his shorts. Straining against the fabric begging for some attention. Having you spread out for him, hearing those pretty moans fall from your lips is enough to drive anyone mad. And it doesn't help that Tae's been waiting for this for weeks.

Sharp teeth nip at your clit just as he's pushing another finger inside of you. “Taehyung!” You're crying out, in half pleasure – but also a warning. If he continued like this you'd be cumming before even getting to feel him inside of you.

“Close, baby?” His words are delivered into your throbbing cunt, sending vibrations through your body that has your back arching. Fingers tightening in his hair as you grind your hips desperately into him.

So close you can practically taste it, no longer able to worry about not being able to feel him. Just chasing your release. A breathy chant of 'keep going' falling from your lips as you hold his head in place.

Heat spreads throughout your body, a dull ache starting in your core and spreading throughout your body. Walls clenched so tight around his fingers that it's almost hard for him to pull back, so he doesn't, instead pushes deeper – pressing all three fingers against your sweet spot. In that exact moment, his lips are wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly and you feel the band snap.

Body tightening and legs shaking as incoherent curses fall from your lips. Taehyung watches your pretty eyes roll back, head tipping too. And once he's sure you're at the peak of your climax, he's pulling his fingers from inside of you and standing to his feet. Quick with fishing his cock from inside his shorts, you just barely notice the absence before you're being filled again.

A drawn-out whine falls from your lips at the new stretch, a thick groan from his from the tight squeeze. The wetness from your release makes it easy for him to move, though and he's thankful – too eager to wait longer than a few seconds to have you.

Your fingers struggle to find something to grasp as he ruts against you in an almost brutal pace. Each snap of his hips pushing your body further up on the table, only for him to drag you back down toward him. Loud cries and incoherent sentences fall from your lips that you're sure anyone in a 50-mile radius could put together what the two of you are doing.

Taehyung loves it, though. It's like fuel to his ever-growing ego. Chants of his name falling from your pretty lips, nails clutching at the fabric of his shirt as you beg for him. Just the knowledge he's able to make someone like you, like this. Yeah, he loves it.

“Fuck. This greedy little cunt,” He nearly grunts, eyes flashing up to take in your fucked out expression. His thumb is easily finding your clit through the wet mess between your legs, rubbing it slowly. “You wanna cum again? All over my cock this time?”

A frantic bob of your head and a whiny 'please' is prompting him to reach for your hips. Easily, he's lifting your body from the table, securing your legs around his waist. His hips rut against yours with much more fervor in this standing position. And you attempt to meet his thrusts but you're so delirious that all you can manage is a lazy bounce.

Arms wrapped around his neck and face buried in the crook of his neck, your walls squeeze around him as you feel the pressure build in your stomach again. Sloppy, wet kisses sucked into his skin. Teeth scraping against the tanned flesh before you're crying out your orgasm, body shaking in his arms.

You're positive if it weren't for the rough grip he has on your ass, you'd be sprawled out on the floor from the power of it. Taehyung fucks you through the entire thing, not slowing down until he feels his own release approaching, just second after yours. Thighs tightening and thrust becoming sloppy while he pulls your body down tighter against his.

The feeling of his thick ropes of cum coating your insides has your senses waking up, that paired with the slow drag of his cock inside of you has your legs stiffening again. Hips rocking slowly against his as another tiny orgasm washes over you. So small Taehyung wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been paying attention – but of course, he was.

“Did you just cum again?” He says with a laugh, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Lips sucked into your mouth to hide the sheepish grin that fought to take over your features. “It felt good... you cumming, inside.”

A triumphant grin takes over his features and he's leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Let's keep it in then,” He's mumbling against your mouth and you're not sure what he means until he's pulling out – fingers quick to meet your entrance, pushing his cum back inside of you.

Body twitching with overstimulation, but you let him stuff you with his cum, not able to deny how hot it was. Especially the look of concentration on his face, careful not to miss a drop. Once he's satisfied, he's secured your shorts back in place patting his hand over your crotch playfully.

“You better keep it in there, too. Gonna fuck it out of you later,” He promises with a large grin, head tilting up to nibble at your jaw. He's got one hand resting on the curve of your ass, the other gripping your thigh. Zero plans to put you down any time soon, loving the way you're wrapped around him.

He'd stay like this with you forever if he wasn't for the distance shout he's hearing from the main house. Trying to ignore it and praying that you don't hear it, but as it grows louder your ears are perking up.

“Taehyung-ah!” It's Namjoon's voice and you're immediately pulling back when you register it. “Think Joon is looking for us,” You say through a giggle, the kisses he's leaving on your skin starting to tickle.

“He'll give up.” Tae murmurs, trailing a wet line of kisses down the length of your neck. And you almost agree with him, but you hear Namjoon call again and figure it would be best to just go see what he wants. So, despite Taehyung's reluctance, you're unwrapping your legs from around him.

“Or we can go see what's up.” Taehyung's changing his tune once he's realizing you weren't going to change yours.

His arm is easily sliding around your waist, pulling your body into his as the two of you make your way back into the main house. It's a little weird walking with his cum stuffed inside of you. Like a subtle heaviness between your legs that you just barely go without noticing. And if you moved too fast you could feel a bit of it start to trickle out, forcing you to pay much more attention to your movements than usual.

When the two of you are reaching the sliding door, it's locked. Your other six men are sat in the room, snickers falling from their lips with one look at your frazzled state and the fact that you're locked out.

“Ooh, what were you guys doing out there?” You can hear Hoseok's teasing tone through the glass. As if it weren't obvious. As if they didn't hear what you guys were doing out there.

Taehyung doesn't miss a beat, hand dropping down to grasp your ass. “Stuffed her full of my cum.” He says with a wide grin that has hollers of amusement falling from their lips. “Tae!” You're gasping, face heating up as you lift your arm to punch at his shoulder.

“What it's true?” Sparkling eyes turned to you, lips shaped in a soft pout that you'd lean up and kiss if you weren't sure it'd have a glob of his cum rolling down your leg.

Namjoon, your perfect little angel, is the one to pull the door open. And you're thanking him as you walk past, carefully taking the vacant spot beside Jungkook. “Do you really have cum in you, Noona?” He wonders. Eyes dark while a curious hand reaches to brush over the waistband of your shorts.

“Only a little bit,” Fingers lifting to just barely pinch your fingers together to show him. “Prove it,” He says with a tad bit of playfulness in his tone, tugging at your shorts just slightly. 

You have half the mind to do just that. The thought lingering in your mind long enough for both Hoseok and Yoongi to notice. Intrigued, Hobi waits to see if you'll actually do it – but Yoongi speaks up before the tension can grow any thicker.

“We're choosing rooms,” Changing the subject completely acting as if an eight-way orgy wasn't just on the table. “Oh, right!” Joon, who had been subtly watching to see if you take Kook's dare is all of a sudden the reason he had gathered everyone.

A few moments are granted for conversation to bounce around the room, choosing where they'll sleep for the next seven days. And once they've settled their arrangements, attention is back on you – but for an entirely different reason now.

“Noona can share the floating house with me,” Jungkook is saying with a wide grin, keying you in on the fact that this conversation had been going on a bit longer than you had been paying attention.

With a quick nod of your head, you're assuring the young boy that you'll share the room with him. “I figured I'd just bounce around? If you guys don't care.” Much easier that way, whoever wanted you to spend the night in the room – you would. But to keep things tidy, you'd keep your stuff in the floating house with Jungkook.

“Of course we don't care-” Jin starts, but his words are being cut off by Taehyung's haste. “My room first!” Hand raised in a cute schoolboy raised, the look that he pins you with washes all remnants of the word cute out of your mind, though. 

With a thick roll of his eyes, Namjoon's standing. “If she wants to. You choose, baby.” His attention now on you and the pet name has shivers running down your spine. There was just something about the way Joon called you 'baby' that had you keening.

He doesn't act on it, though. Not right now. And neither do you. One by one, they each break off to do their own thing until dinner time. You find yourself following Jin out to the dock after hearing he was going to fish for a little bit. You had gone on quite a few fishing trips with him, never did it but liked to keep him company when he went.

It's hard to ignore how at ease you feel here, with them. Not a single worry in mind in this secluded spot with your favorite guys. Where they're able to be themselves and be with you and be happy. Thankful that you were able to join them. And so ready to be apart of the memories this next week holds.

No matter how sticky.

- seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.

masterlist ⤐

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[sylvanas-girlkisser]

Arcane Background Lore/Easter Eggs (Episode 9)

Welp, that’s it for now, all 9 episodes down. Guess I gotta find some other way to spend my evenings instead of obsessively pouring over background details in Arcane. Note to self: for season 2, do a post every other night instead of every night.

In League, steam coming out of Vi’s gauntlets mean she has armed (get it) her “Relentless Force” ability, which makes her next attack deal more damage and send out a shockwave behind whoever she hits.

It’s a bit hard to tell at this angle, (it really is the clearest frame I could find), but like most noxian soldiers, this guy has 3 circular indents in his armor, representing the 3 principles of strength (the pillars of Noxian philosophy).

I feel like a lot of League fans were waiting for a moment like this. In League, Vi has 5 abilities, 4 of them are some variation on “punch people real hard” the last one is her “Blast Shield”, so it just makes sense to find a way to include it; though in League it doesn’t have the weightlessness effect, it just protects Vi.

In a manner of speaking, this is how most League games end...

Let me explain: In League, Caitlyn and Jinx are both classified as “carries”, which means they start out weak, but the longer the game goes on the stronger they become. If a match goes long enough, it tends to turn into just a fight between the two carries with each of their teams just standing by on the sidelines cheering them on.

Jinx’s sudden rapid movement could arguably be a reference to her “Get Excited” ability, which makes her move and attack very quickly for a few seconds (though in League it triggers whenever she kills an enemy player, not at will).

First of all: fucking called it, way back in episode 4 that this was how Jinx would end up weaponizing the hex gem.

Okay I’m getting ahead of myself: In episode 4 we see Jinx use all the weapons she has in League, except for “Fishbones”, her rocket launcher, which she in Leagues uses for among other things her ultimate ability. And wouldn’t you know it, that’s a really big rocket. Also, in the “True Genius” cinematic, Jinx steals a hex gem from Heimerdinger and tries to use it to build a rocket launcher (which doesn’t work). I fucking adore how effortlessly this show adds these callbacks without ever sacrificing dramatic tension.

Speaking of effortless callbacks that add to the dramatic tension: The way the hextech rocket, for lack of a better word “unfolds” is a reference to how, in League, Jinx’s ultimate ability (“Super Mega Death Rocket”) significantly increases in damage after its been in the air for a while – it even does a similar (though less detailed) animation when it reaches top speed.

This shot is, if you squint a bit, a reference to one of the first scenes in the “Get Jinxed” music video (shown below).

In a way, its showing her character arch leading up to the events of LoL: When she was first introduced in League, she was firing rockets at Piltover, and here she is at the end of Arcane, firing rockets at Piltover. 

I feel like a lot of people already picked up on this moment with Mel’s tattoos reflecting a lot more light than normally just before the impact of the hextech rocket. It might just be artistic liberties, but that is also a thing magical items made by the Solari sometimes do; and without just copy pasting what I wrote about the dress™ for episode 8: there is some evidence that Mel knows about and has engaged with the Solari people before.

I have one last background element to highlight, but that’s probably going to be heavy spoilers for season 2, so putting it after my usual signoff and below the cut (even though that keeps breaking tumblr) just to make extra sure nobody gets accidental spoilers.

I saved my favorite character for the final shoehorn: Rell, the human embodiment of the “mom and dad, I’m gay and stronger than both of you so don’t try any shit” meme.

Around the same time as Arcane takes place, a young girl in Noxus, probably 6 or 7 years old, is going to discover that she not only has the gift of magic, but is the first ferromancer (metal mage) in literal centuries. Her mother will soon bring her to a secret school for mages, hidden in the mountains far from the capital’s prying eyes. Within the walls of the Black Rose Academy, Rell will be forced into magical combat with her classmates, for every battle she wins another sigil is inscribed on her skin, while her opponents are never heard from again. In 10 years Rell will discover that each of her sigil contains the soul of one of her classmates, ripped from their bodies and added to her own magical potential. After this discovery, Rell, now one of the most powerful living mages, will tear the academy apart in anger, before setting off like Jinx’s rocket towards the Noxian capital.

Yes it’s super YA-esque, and I fucking love it. She’s a woman driven by anger, not quiet feminine anger, pure, worldshattering, screaming at the top of your lungs anger. And also she’s a horse girl.

If there’s anything I missed please let me know, and thanks for sticking with me along the way, it’s been a joy ♥

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Last chance to avoid spoilers...

See this figure hanging in Singed’s lab? Notice the hair, elongated fingers, and syringes pumping a green liquid. That’s Vander.

I’m getting ahead of myself, this:

Is Warwick, aka. the Uncaged Wrath of Zaun. He’s been in League right from the beginning, but all we have ever known about him is that, one day he broke out of Singed’s lab and started hunting down chembarons and the like. However, right from episode one, people have theorized that Warwick is what happened to Vander after he spends who knows how many years under Singed’s care. Besides them just flat out showing Vander hanging in Singed’s lab, here are some of the clues I managed to pick up on

- Back in 2017, Warwick was given a bunch of new voice lines including some that triggered in relation to Jinx and Vi, which didn’t make a lot of sense at the time, but now seem distinctly Vander-like (e.g. telling Jinx: “You were there!” and Vi: “Zaun needed you.” not to mention asking Vi who taught her to punch.)

- Vander is called “hound of the underground” by those two smugglers in episode 1

- Deckard’s (the fuckboy who attacked Vi and the gang in episode 1) post-shimmer introduction is very evocative of Warwick, with the terrified screaming and mix of neon green and blood red being stables of media involving him. Perhaps meant to indicate that Deckard was a prototype of what Warwick/Vander would become?

- While strapped to a chair in Silco’s warehouse, and again after the explosion, Vander is bathed in neon green light (a color symbolic of both Zaun and Warwick).

- After taking shimmer, Vander begins to snarl and growl in a distinctly wolf-like manner, his scream of “Silco!” even sounds similar to how Warwick speaks in League.

- Also, not directly a Vander hint, but Sevika’s arm looks pretty similar to Warwick’s claw, notice the semi-exposed syringes in both designs, and that Sevika’s extendable sword is somewhat similar to Warwick’s extendable claws.

See you for season 2!