#(those are the seasons they have smartphones in)

[llannasvsp]

the ninja have smartphones...

[gilfrespecter]

Listening to coinstar by the growlers and thinking about mel so hard I get nauseous

Ridiculous stream of conscious in the tags apologies but not really

[spencerreidenjoyer]

insatiable | spencer reid x reader

Spencer learns how amazing sex is with you, but gets caught up with work. You show your boyfriend how good it can feel even if you’re not together physically, and he shows you how much he misses you when he gets back.

part 1 - addicted to you | part 2

wc: 4.6k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags/warnings: established relationship, phone sex/video sex, mutual masturbation, public (bathroom) sex, brief mentions of typical BAU stuff (not in detail), meeting the family (literally reader meets the BAU), brief mentions of alcohol, making out, vaginal sex, getting caught (not in the act but afterward lmao)

a/n: this is what an insane person does when they're sick for two days and have nothing better to do over the summer. this is a second part to addicted to you (you don't have to read the first part but it does provide some context for some details within the fic), with inspiration taken from a lovely comment I got on ao3 that made me feel kinda crazy. i included some textfic elements in this fic as well which i hope reads well (bold text is spencer)! also I know early seasons spencer technically sets this around 2005-2007 but they have smartphones and video calling (aka present day) so please suspend your disbelief for the length of this fic lmao (p.s this fic is also on ao3!)

Your boyfriend gets whisked away for work sooner than you expect. Spencer’s supposed to have time off the rest of this week, but you suppose killers aren’t exactly respectful of an FBI agent’s time off of work. It’s downright cruel when he’s called in to work on a Friday evening, when you have dinner and wine set at the table, having gotten ready to spend a quiet, romantic evening in with Spencer. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, rushing to change out of his sweatshirt and joggers into his typical work attire. You stand in the doorway of his room, mildly amused while Spencer panics to put an outfit together. “I know you had a whole evening in planned, but–”

“Don’t be, baby,” you assure him. “You have a killer to catch. Oh, that one– the blue cardigan looks good with those pants. It matches your socks.”

Spencer smiles as he looks up at you, reaching for the navy blue cardigan to his left. He tugs it on rather hurriedly, comes up to you and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the best. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You shake your head. “Just find the bastard quick and come home to me.”

“I know. I will,” Spencer says.

After the both of you found out just how much Spencer liked fucking you, you were really hoping that your weekend together could be spent in his bed, but duty calls. Technically, JJ had called him in, but you’re not concerned about specifics right now.  

You spend the evening alone in Spencer’s apartment, half of the wine finished and his TV playing reruns of some show you haven’t been paying attention to. Your eyelids feel heavy, and Spencer’s bed is so comfortable you can’t bring yourself to leave it. That is, until your phone buzzes on Spencer’s nightstand, and you’re suddenly very alert.

I miss you, darling. > hey, i’m surprised you have the down time to text. i miss you too I’m really sorry I had to leave so suddenly. We’re on the jet right now.  > i told you it’s okay! i’m surprised the jet has wifi lol Taxpayer money, I guess? We land in LA in a couple of hours and we’re heading straight to the PD to work on the case. > my poor boyfriend is working so hard instead of cuddling me in bed :( How you tempt me, lovely. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Are you going to sleep soon? It’s late. > yeah i’m staying at yours for the night and maybe until you get back? really miss you already Okay, that’s good. I know. I’ll call when I’m in the hotel and settled for the day? :-( > yes please. also stop sending emojis with noses they aren’t supposed to look like that!!! They aren’t anatomically correct without them. The way you send them > babe they’re emojis it’s ok if they’re not anatomically correct Hahaha I love you. > lol i love you too! Goodnight, love. > goodnight spence <3 <3

You can imagine, especially from the way Spencer recounts it, how his coworker Derek must be teasing him about smiling at his phone, about how pretty boy’s lucky lady must be one hell of a woman to get Spencer so smitten. 

You would say you’re rather independent, especially in relationships, but Spencer has you acting like a clingy girlfriend. You can’t help but feel an ache in your chest as you long for him while he’s away, feeling like a military wife whose husband is out instead of being normal. To be fair, being with Spencer has never been “normal” – he always has something interesting up his sleeve, or some quirk that makes you even more enamoured with him. 

Your Saturday is relatively uneventful, milling about Spencer’s apartment. You laze around in bed for way too long, enough where Spencer would’ve definitely hauled you out of bed himself an hour ago if he were here. You make yourself breakfast, unsurprised that Spencer only has cereal in his pantry and almond milk in his fridge. You sit down with one of his very sophisticated literature books but you don’t get very far with it, and opt to clean Spencer’s apartment instead. 

It’s when you’re sweeping the floor that you realise just how much you like Spencer, feeling so strongly attached to him already. You’ve said your ‘I love you’s, given him his firsts. You were staying in his apartment even while he was away– hell, you’re even cleaning his apartment for him. 

Just for a moment, you let yourself fantasise about this being your apartment – yours and Spencer’s; about waking up to him every morning, about making breakfast for the both of you that isn’t cereal and almond milk, about coming home to each other instead of an empty apartment. 

You sigh and get back to cleaning.

You’re settled into his bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of him when Spencer finally does call. You almost drop your phone in your excitement to pick up. 

“Hey! Hi, Spence,” you say, unable to help the smile that’s forming on your face. 

“Hello, love,” Spencer answers. He sounds a little tired. You can imagine the little furrow in his brow, obviously exhausted and dissatisfied from a full day’s work of catching some bastard in LA, and you wish you could be there to kiss his frown away. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Spencer. Long day?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer sighs tiredly. “This UnSub is so slippery. No convictions, no paper trail, nothing, and he’s killing every other–” Spencer starts to ramble but he catches himself. “Sorry. I won’t talk about work right now. It’s pretty grim.”

“It’s okay,” you hum. “Do you want to talk about work right now?”

Spencer makes a little noise. “No, no. I don’t want to bring that to you. Let’s talk about you. How are you, honey?”

Honey. The name makes your insides feel all gooey, soft and warm and lovely. “I’m- I’m okay. I stayed at your place, cleaned up around here. I’m thankful it’s not as much of a man cave as I thought.”

Spencer laughs through the phone, a breathy chuckle. “Thank you for cleaning up for me, love. It’s just a lot of nerdy stuff, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s endearing. I tried to read one of your books earlier and could barely get past the first ten pages.” You tell him, garnering another chuckle from Spencer. “I like your place a lot.”

“I miss you,” Spencer says again. “Waking up to you and having you around is so much nicer than this dingy hotel room I’m in.”

“Aw. Taxpayer money couldn’t upgrade you to a better room?” 

Spencer snorts. “No, but I lucked out on getting the room all to myself.”

There’s a pause as you figure out what to say, and Spencer is quick to follow up, “I didn’t mean–”

“Does this have something to do with you missing me, baby?” You can’t help but grin. Spencer makes a distressed little noise over the line.

“Well, I– Maybe, but we don’t have to–” Spencer stammers, unable to find the words. He’s absolutely adorable. 

“I want to, Spence,” you coo. “I miss you so much.”

You hear Spencer exhale shakily. “What– What do I do?”

“A genius like you hasn’t forgotten how to touch himself, has he?” you tease, Spencer whining on the other end at your words. “Does that eidetic memory of yours come with an overactive imagination too?”

“Surprisingly, no. Hyperphantasia is more of being able to visualise different types of situations in one’s mind, and that’s what usually is associated with an overactive imagination. Having an eidetic memory is more about high-precision recall after seeing something even just once. I think having an eidetic memory pretty much ensures you don’t have aphantasia, or the inability to see and create mental images, but yeah.”

Ah, even his nerdy ramblings turn you on. 

“So does that mean you can recall the way I looked in bed a few nights ago?” you prod, and you wish you could see how red Spencer must be by now.

“Well, yes. Of course I can. How could I ever forget how beautiful you looked then?” Spencer’s words are sweet, earnest, and you melt. 

“Then picture that,” you barely get the words out because you’re so smitten. “Imagine I’m right there with you, Spencer.”

You hear the rustling of the sheets, and Spencer’s little telltale whine as he wraps his hand around himself. “O-Oh–”

“I miss you, Spence,” you drawl. “Miss the way your cock fits inside me. You miss my tight cunt, baby?”

“Your mouth is filthy,” Spencer laughs breathily. “But yeah, I do. You always feel so good around me.”

“You’re touching yourself, yeah?” you ask. You get a little whine from him as an affirmative, but your imagination is running wild – you want to see him. “Can you show me?”

“Yeah, I just– Do you wanna switch it over to a video call? I can’t–”

You laugh at your boyfriend’s lack of technical prowess, tapping at your phone screen until the top half of his face comes up. “Hey, I’m just trying to find a good angle–”

“Don’t just flip the camera and show me your dick, please. That would be so unsexy.” You say.

Spencer furrows his brows. “I was not planning on doing that, for the record.” 

You watch the phone move until Spencer comes into frame, the phone likely propped up at the foot of the bed and exposing all of Spencer to you. You might be drooling right now.

“This is… a lot,” Spencer laughs nervously. “I feel so naked.”

“You’re mostly clothed,” you quip. 

“Ha ha,” Spencer laughs dryly. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before.”

“Phone sex? Or calling your girlfriend so you can jerk off for her?” 

Spencer gives you a deadpan look. “Both, honey.”

You grin. “I’m glad to be your first. Now, show me how you make yourself feel good, baby.”

Spencer’s cheeks are a gorgeous rosy red when he takes his cock into his hand again, his tip leaking as he strokes himself slowly. With his eyes fluttering shut, Spencer’s lips part as he indulges himself in his pleasure. Like this, you indulge yourself in admiring all of Spencer – the flush on his cheeks that runs down to his neck, his breathy panting as he touches himself to the thought of you.

“Spence,” you sigh. “You’re so pretty.”

His eyes shutter open as he looks at you, somehow even redder than he already was. “You’re the pretty one, darling. Are you– Will you touch yourself for me?”

You hold back your moan as you nod. You were already in your underwear when you had slid into Spencer’s bed, but now all it takes is you sliding your fingers past the waistband to feel how wet you already are between your legs. “Oh, Spence.”

“Do you feel good, love?” he hums, voice only a little bit strained from his immense pleasure. 

The embarrassingly loud squelch that results when you sink your fingers into yourself is enough of an answer. Spencer grins, and you’re red in the face as you rock your hips down onto your own fingers. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything, honey,” Spencer laughs. “But I wish I could feel you right now.”

“I know, I miss the way you feel inside me,” you pant. “Please, Spencer–”

“Take off your underwear,” Spencer’s voice is breathy as he pleads with you. “I want to see you.”

You prop your phone up so your angle matches Spencer’s, both of you on full display for each other. You watch the way Spencer’s eyes widen when you slide your panties off, the way his eyes are trained on your figure through the screen. He says, “You’re so wet…”

“All for you, baby,” you sigh, leaning back as you slide two fingers back into yourself. You scissor them rather hastily, craving the hurried way Spencer fucks you. “It’s not the same without you here.”

“I know,” Spencer hums. “You look so good like that. I wish I could make you feel good right now.”

You moan, pushing your fingers into yourself deeper, barely hitting where Spencer reaches easily. The squelch from between your legs is obscene. “You do, baby. You’re making me feel so good, just thinking about you.” 

In practically a whisper, Spencer admits, “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

You let out a weak cry, impossibly turned on by your boyfriend’s filthy admission because you didn’t even think he had it in him to say it so bluntly. You slide your fingers in and out hurriedly, your palm giving you the friction on your clit that you crave so desperately. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a strangled cry, muffled behind his hand, when he comes. It’s sudden, Spencer’s load painting the soft skin of his stomach, his cock twitching. You moan as you follow suit, wetness drenching your hand as you ride out your own orgasm, imagining his cock inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Spencer gasps, head thrown back as you watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes heavily. His forehead and neck are covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his cock out against the rest of his rather soft, innocent looking outfit is making you giggle just a little.

“You look really hot right now,” you say instead, wishing you could be laying next to him while he recovers.

“I think I should be saying that about you,” Spencer laughs. “You’re gorgeous. You’re so stunning.”

“How long are you going to be away?” You pout. “I like it when I can actually kiss you after you compliment me.”

Spencer smiles sympathetically. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

“I’ll take phone sex with my boyfriend as a consolation, then.” You wink, making Spencer laugh. 

“Remind me not to get too loud, though. I think Emily is in the room next to me and I really hope these walls are thick enough.” He says, sounding vaguely concerned.

You laugh, and stay on the line a little longer just to relish in a peaceful moment with Spencer.

The next day, when you’re out getting groceries to stock up Spencer’s fridge, you get a text from Spencer.

I don’t know how much Emily heard last night, but she’s been looking at me funny all morning. > lol oops? If we call again tonight, we might have to keep it down.  > if? not when? :) I love you so much. > i know and i love you too :) and you should probably apologise to emily about last night Well, if we’re calling again tonight then maybe I should just give her one big apology when all of this is over. > good idea. now go catch your killer so we can go back to having sex irl Okay!

Unfortunately, Spencer gets too busy to call you again that night, the team working overtime to catch their UnSub, whose kills were escalating exponentially. You don’t find yourself bothered by it, by Spencer disappearing for the night with nothing more than a message sent your way, instead relishing in the fact that it’ll feel even more rewarding when he comes home. 

You’ve never felt this way before, craving Spencer so desperately while he’s away at work. While you’ve only been together a couple of months, you respect that Spencer’s work takes up a lot of his time. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss him, though, as much as you enjoy your alone time.

All of the team’s hard work pays off, though, because they’re storming into the UnSub’s lair by Monday afternoon, and Spencer texts you when you’re just clocking out of the office.

Great news! We caught the guy. We’re packing up at the PD and coming home soon. > omg!!! that’s so great The team wants to go out for celebratory drinks.  > you should totally go ahead and celebrate with them spence! you guys worked your asses off on this case We did. But I’m telling you because I want you to join us. I want you to meet the team too.  > oh? i would love to but are you sure they want me there? Of course, sweet girl. Derek wants to know who has me smiling at my phone half the time, and Emily is asking who I’m calling in the middle of the night. > omg so she did hear you … I think so, love. > … i will apologise to her tonight then I’ll send you the address. Love you > love you too spence <3

There’s just enough time for you to get home and change into a nice outfit – a tight, red dress that hits your mid-thigh, your hair curled and your makeup touched-up before you head to the bar Spencer’s sent you the address to. While you know Spencer’s team is lovely, you do want to make a good first impression.

You see Spencer’s gangly form at the bar when you get there, the rest of his team facing away from you as they get their drinks. You see Spencer’s face brighten as he spots you, raising his hand and waving to you excitedly. The rest of his team notices, and turns to look at you too. You would be shy at all the attention, but Spencer’s unabashed adoration of you, especially in front of all his friends, is giving you more than enough confidence to walk up to the group.

“Hello,” you smile, and the warmth you feel from the team makes you feel welcome already. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

You shake hands with Hotch and Rossi as you introduce yourself. While you had heard of Hotch as a rather cold, serious Unit Chief, the way he warmly smiles at you makes you feel at ease. “So, you’re Spencer’s girlfriend. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“It’s great to meet you too, sir,” you answer rather instinctively, making both Rossi and Hotch laugh heartily. 

“Aaron might be Reid’s boss, but he certainly isn’t yours,” Rossi chuckles. 

Before you can feel embarrassed by it, you get pulled into a tight, warm hug by Penelope, and when she lets you go, JJ hands you a drink, and Derek and Emily are regarding you with knowing smirks. 

“Reid, you are one lucky man,” Derek says, after pulling you into a welcoming hug. “Don’t mess this up, lover boy.”

“I know,” Spencer says, his hand reaching for yours. You lace your fingers with Spencer’s, squeezing his hand comfortingly. “And I won’t mess this up.”

“Lover boy is right, considering what I overheard the other night,” Emily says, looking at you and Spencer pointedly. JJ also has a knowing smile on her face, and you feel your cheeks get hot.

“I’m really sorry about that, Emily,” you smile sheepishly. “I hope Spencer’s apologised for it too.”

“Again, I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Spencer says, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Emily. “I would say ‘We won’t do it again’, but…��

You shriek amidst the laughter of Spencer’s coworkers, Spencer laughing along as he holds onto your waist. You feel adored, so readily welcomed by Spencer’s friends, and you feel like you belong, by Spencer’s side.

After you chat with the rest of the team for a little more, they eventually disperse to do their own things, leaving you and Spencer alone. Spencer looks at you with such adoration in his eyes and you feel like you’re going to melt. “Hi,” he says warmly.

“Hi, Spence,” you say. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer smiles. “But I’m here now.”

“You are,” you breathe, giddy with excitement, and lean in to kiss him. It’s a quick peck, but Spencer pulls you back in like you’re the air he needs to breathe. He kisses you deep, eager, pouring every drop of himself into you. His hands cup your face sweetly, kissing you until you feel breathless. 

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you giggle when he finally pulls back, eyes wild as he regards you. “You really missed me, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Spencer laughs. 

“Do we need to pretend to keep our hands off each other or do you just want to go and make out in the bathroom?” You say simply. You don’t expect Spencer to be down, considering how quickly he’d rattle off the statistics about the germs in a public bathroom, but Spencer smiles at you and pulls you toward the single stall.

You’re thankful it’s a relatively big, clean-looking single stall bathroom, Spencer locking the door behind you as you lean back against the sink. Spencer’s taller figure crowds you in with ease, and you feel swallowed up by him as he kisses you again. He’s desperate, eager as his tongue slips into your mouth, his little noises so deliciously sinful as you kiss him back.

“Spence–” you gasp, in between kissing Spencer back. “Oh, baby–”

“What we did over the phone wasn’t enough,” he murmurs, eyes unblinking as he gazes at you. “I need you right now.”

Sure enough, Spencer’s hard in his pants. He pushes his hips forward, pressing his erection against your thigh. You whimper, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “Please, Spence. You can take me right here, right now.”

You feel just as desperate as Spencer seems, his hands eager as they roam up your body. He’s eager to touch and squeeze and grope whatever he can get his hands on, and you relish in the way his large, sturdy hands grab your thighs, your waist, your breasts.

“You look so good tonight, my love,” Spencer grunts as he presses his face to your neck, his lips kissing up the column of your neck hurriedly. “So gorgeous. Letting me show you off to all my friends too– Thank you, you’re so perfect–”

“Spencer,” you gasp, hand sliding down to rub at his hard-on. You’re so turned on by how aroused Spencer is already, from just kissing you, from just touching you. “Fuck me, please?”

Spencer exhales shakily, lifting you up slightly so you can sit back on the countertop, your legs spread to accommodate Spencer between them. You’re soaked through your underwear, and you watch Spencer marvel at the sight. His hands are shaking slightly as he undoes his belt, pushing his pants down just enough to get his cock out. He’s hard and heavy and leaking, and you find yourself drooling as he strokes himself momentarily.

Spencer’s biting his lower lip in utter concentration, pushing your dress up and out of the way. You expect his hands to slide your panties off, but instead his fingers push the fabric aside, revealing your slick, wet entrance that he presses the head of his cock to. “Oh–”

“Like this,” Spencer says, breathless, his sentence not even fully coherent but you understand, especially when Spencer pushes the tip of his cock into you. You muffle a sob into your hand, feeling so on edge as you accommodate Spencer’s length. 

The burn is perfect, the slow drag of his cock inside of you teetering between pain and pleasure. It’s a primal urge the both of you desperately need to fulfil, and the way he presses into you satiates you so perfectly. Your arms slung around Spencer’s neck, you cry out weakly as he rocks his hips into you, already brutal and hurried with the pace. 

You’ve never felt this undone, so desperate that you’d let yourself get fucked in a bathroom stall. You barely have any alcohol in your system, for you to feel reckless enough to do something like this. Hell, Spencer hadn’t even taken your panties off before he’d started fucking you. The fact that prim and proper Spencer of all people is making you like this makes your head spin. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his shoulder. “So good, Spence, oh–”

“You feel so good,” Spencer groans, hips stuttering as he tells you just that. “You’re so perfect. I love you.”

“I love you so much,” you hiccup, feeling Spencer drill into you, the muffled slap of his thrusts hitting the back of your thighs. You’re so overwhelmed, pleasure zipping through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, as Spencer fucks you like you’re the only person in the world that matters right now. 

“I’m close,” Spencer gasps, pace growing uneven, hurried, as he chases his pleasure while trying so hard to make you feel good too. “Please, I–”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, too sudden, too quick. You clench around Spencer as your body shakes, Spencer fucking you through it with desperation. You don’t expect to come so quickly, but you suppose missing Spencer has an effect on you. 

You squelch obscenely with your release as Spencer continues to fuck you, needy and hurried, moaning in your ear as he stumbles into his orgasm too, wracking through his body like he has no control over it. You feel his load spill inside of you, hot and messy, his hands trembling as his thrusts slow.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, laughing slightly. “Holy shit, Spencer. We just had sex in a public bathroom, this is crazy.”

“We just had sex in a public bathroom,” Spencer echoes, sounding mildly panicked. “Oh, my God.”

“It was very fucking hot.” You assure him, holding his face in your hands to look him in the eyes, stopping him from overthinking. “But we should probably go home, because I’m a fucking mess between my legs right now.”

“I might need to take a shower,” Spencer says, his voice wavering slightly. “The sink is technically the most germ-ridden surface in a public bathroom, the damp environment makes it a–”

“Spencer, I love you so much, but for your sake and mine, let’s not talk about germs right now.” You shudder at the thought. “I think I need to take a shower after that too.”

“Let me clean you up, and we can go home.” Spencer, despite his germ anxieties, is rather sweet in cleaning you up. Your panties are ruined with fluids, and you’re starting to feel Spencer’s load trickling out of you when you stand back up, but you relish in the fact that you’re going to be back at his apartment soon enough. 

(The fact that Spencer hadn’t corrected you when you called his place home, makes your heart sing.)

You clean up your makeup and make your hair look as presentable as it can be, especially after your boyfriend has literally fucked you in a public bathroom, and when you both look presentable enough, you try to slip out of the bathroom casually.

Unfortunately, Derek and Emily are right there, catching you in the act of leaving, obviously noting the way you and Spencer look absolutely dishevelled. 

Derek raises his eyebrows, grinning. “Damn, lover boy.”

“Shut up,” Spencer retaliates weakly, his voice slightly shaky. 

“We’re heading home first,” you say with all the confidence you can muster, trying very hard not to feel extremely embarrassed in front of Spencer’s very smug friends. You’re still holding Spencer’s hand, and you feel a little less afraid. “It was fun getting to meet you guys.”

Emily shakes her head playfully, smiling. “We’d love to hang out more with you another time. Maybe when Reid isn’t so desperate to get alone with you?”

Spencer makes a displeased noise, but you smile and nod at her. “Definitely.”

Derek and Emily let you slip out of the bar without saying much else, and you hope that the rest of Spencer’s team doesn’t hear about it. 

As you and Spencer step out of the bar and into the cool, evening air, you kiss his cheek once more. “I love you. Now, let’s get home so we can shower. And then we can have sex again in the comfort of your bed?”

Spencer grins, any earlier embarrassment seeming to melt away. “That sounds perfect. God, I love you.”

[eevees-hobbies]

Sext Me Like Ya Mean It - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura)

Author’s Note: This was inspired by this Haruka Sakura Nendoroid, where he’s blushing and looking at his phone. "But, Eevee, how did a cute little figure inspire a fanfic that’s 8-pages long? " I can’t stress enough how down bad I am for this man. Like I would let him put it in my ***, and I’d  *** his *** off of a plate. And I’m not even fucking sorry about it. I might buy this thing and purchase a *** jar, to be fucking honest. Also, if you see any debauched shit with Haruka, tag me cuz I’m Jonesing (I’m dead fucking serious). 

Synopsis: Sakura and technology don’t mix, and now you’re telling him there’s this thing called sexting?! It’s a no from him…unless you can convince him that sexting can be fun for all involved! How will you manage to do that? I dare ya to guess.

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura. Sexting in the form of text and video, Togame sees your breast, masturbation for you, public masturbation for Sakura, pet names including kitten, sir, and daddy. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 2.7K

Dividers by Saradika. Banner by me.

“What’s…sexting?” 

Sakura looks defeated as he poses the question. He had just grasped the concept of texting, and now you were throwing more terminology his way?

You shake your head, amused that someone who grew up in the age of smartphones is so pop-culture illiterate. “Sexting is just texting, except we send sexier, more suggestive messages through words, gifs, or pictures. It’s really hot.”

Sakura runs a hand through his dichromatic black and white tresses, “that sounds dumb and not sexy.” 

Even saying the word sexy has a persistent shade of pink stretching over cheeks. 

“Don’t knock it until you give it a try, Sakura! Anyway, have fun with Suo and Nirei tonight.” You give him a peck on the cheek, which results in a grumble and him pulling you in for a kiss on the lips.

You couldn’t stop thinking about your earlier conversation with Sakura. He was always so quick to disregard things he didn’t think he would be good at. 

You can think of all the times you suggested something new: baking, binge-watching Bridgerton, and volunteering at a cat cafe, and how all those things were immediately met with complaints from your boyfriend. 

It wasn’t until you forced his hand by involving him in those activities that he started to warm up to being someone who can bake a mean cake, enjoy a good cuddle session while enjoying the latest season of Bridgerton, and is actually a talented cat-whisperer.

So much like those situations, a little push might be warranted. 

You pick up your phone, enter the passcode, and flick past the home screen displaying a picture of you leaning up to kiss the chin of a blushing, scowling Sakura. 

Across town, Sakura sits at a bar with Nirei and Suo—a bar is usually not their typical meet-up place, but it’s Togame’s birthday, and they needed a venue that could accommodate the size of all the rowdy Bofurin and Shishtoren alums. It also doesn’t help that Kotoha also said, “Fuck. No.” to hosting the party at Cafe Pothos.

A light buzz vibrates in Sakura’s pocket; he leans over, pulls his phone from the back of his jeans, and looks at the screen. He’s pleasantly surprised to see a message from you; he thought you’d be half asleep by now.

God, I miss her. Hope she hasn’t started a new episode of Bridgerton without me.

As he taps on the text bubble icon to open the message, his eyes squint, needing some time to take in the message and then re-read it.

8:20 PM: Hey, baby. I miss you. Thinking of you sooooo much.

His heart thumps aggressively in his chest—a common result of simply thinking about you—as he stares at the text before him, already overthinking what he should send, but you beat him with a follow-up message. 

I hate back-to-back texts. Never have time to respond. 

8:22 PM: I’m lying in bed. Don’t worry…not watching our fave shows without you, kitten. 

He rolls his eyes at the pet name you gave him. You told him that he looks like an angry kitten when he scrunches his nose and bears his teeth. Wiith little complaint from Sakura, the pet name stuck. It’s so stupid and emasculating, but he kind of loves it. 

“You ok, Sakura? You’ve been staring at your phone for like five minutes.”

Sakura looks up at Nirei. “O-oh uh, yeah. Just texting.”

Suo looks over Sakura’s shoulder, trying to peak at his phone screen, “but you aren’t typing anything?”

Sakura tilts the phone away from his friends’ nosey eyes. Your conversations with each other are personal for him, and he’s committed to keeping you all to himself.

“Stop being fucking nosey!” he growls. Sakura decides this is becoming too much of a hassle, but as soon as he’s about to put his phone away, he receives another text from you.

He pauses to consider that he could wait until he is alone to read your messages, but who knows how long that would be? What if you needed something? He would be pissed at himself if he missed an opportunity to do something for you. He decides that the risk of getting caught being called a pet name by his girlfriend isn’t that big of a deal, so he flips his phone over to read your latest commentary. 

8:25 PM: Read receipts are on, so I know you’re looking at your phone. Party must suck.

What the fuck is a read receipt? 

8:26 PM: A read receipt means I can see that you’ve looked at the text message. 

He smiles, loving how you can read his mind even when you’re not physically in front of each other. He’s almost ready to make a pass at typing those exact thoughts out until the following message has him clutching the phone to his chest out of fear that someone could read it over his shoulder. 

8:28 PM: I think I’m…ovulating? I have this craaaazy desire to lick your balls all the way to the tip of your dick, kitten. 

Sakura gradually pulls the phone away from his chest, checking that Nirei and Suo are too engrossed in their conversation to notice the deep-set blush on his cheeks and how he’s peaking at the phone through his fingers. 

His thoughts are frantic; he has so many questions about a situation that he’s never been in before. Why would you send something so filthy through your phone? What is he supposed to do about any of this information when he’s so far away? 

8:30 PM: I’m drooling just thinking about it, baby. Remember when you fucked my face so hard that my hair had my drool in it? I want you to do that again. Fuck my cute little mouth. 

“Ok, this is ridiculous.” A hand reaches past Sakura’s face and takes the phone from his grasp. Sakura immediately stands up, the barstool he was sitting on making a loud scraping sound as it drags against the floor.

But the perpetrator is tall, and Sakura may have beaten his ass before, but they’re friends now, and it’s looked down upon to abuse your friends. 

Togame looks down at Sakura, shaking his head. “You’ve been on your phone every time I look over at ya. What is more important than spending time with me on my birthday?” He punctuates each syllable with a swing of Sakura’s phone.

Suo, ever the instigator, happily chimes in. “He’s texting Y/N!”

“Oh?” Togame’s brows furrow as he looks around the bar, realizing he hasn’t seen you all night. “Hey, yeah, your shadow is missing.”

In what feels like slow-motion, which it probably is because it’s Togame we’re talking about, Sakura watches as Togame’s eyes look down at the screen. He watches as emerald irises quickly scan the text—obviously a faster reader than Sakura—and his eyes widen. 

“Well, damn. That’s hot.”

Another text comes in to Togame’s delight. He lets out a whistle and hands the phone back over to Sakura.

“You sure you know what to do with a girl like that? I could take her off your hands.”

Sakura shoots him a murderous look; his fists clench as he steps toe-to-toe with him. “Wanna run that by me again?”

Togame chuckles, knowing that look in Sakura’s eyes. It was only a few years ago that he and Shishitoren had inspired that same look, which resulted in Sakura and Togame becoming close and saving his best friend’s life.

But somehow, the look Sakura harbors is more intense—protective—now than back then, and it’s all because of you. Togame fully believes that Sakura would be willing to swing on him for you and to protect your honor. Relenting, Togame pats his head, “Kidding. Y'all are cute together.”

Sakura looks down at the phone, curious to see what you’ve sent this time and what Togame glimpsed. What he sees is somehow worse than you calling him kitten or saying you want to gargle his balls down the back of your throat—it’s far worse. 

This time, you sent an image of you in front of a mirror, clad in only your bra and panties, legs folded underneath you as you pulled a bra cup down, exposing your breast.

His eyes dart up to Togame and down to his phone in quick succession, short-circuiting in a matter of seconds. 

Togame chuckles at Sakura’s reaction, “Yeah, she’s real pretty. Lucky guy.”

As Togame shuffles off with the image of your full breast sitting heavily on his mind and wondering what it would feel like for that same breast to sit heavily on his tongue—Sakura stomps off to the bathroom in hopes of regaining his composure.

Suo and Nirei exchange shrugs, assuming Sakura is experiencing one of his usual moods.

Sakura enters the furthest stall from the door and immediately texts you, with your picture still sitting enticingly at the top of his messages.

8:35 PM: Togame just saw that picture. 

Elipses in a bubble appear on the screen, signifying that you’re in the middle of typing. While he waits, he can’t help but look at the picture you sent, his thumb rubbing over your dark, perky nipple as he swallows thickly at the bulge straining against his jeans. 

8:37 PM: What did he say? Did he like it lol?

Sakura shakes his head. You are a ridiculously massive pain in his ass sometimes, but you’re also so…hot. 

8:39 PM: Send me another picture. But with less clothes. 

His heart is once again pounding in his chest, hoping you comply with little to no backtalk for once. He doesn’t even care that people are shuffling in and out of the bathroom as his foot taps against the shiny tile of the floor in impatience.

Another image appears on his phone in what feels like an eternity. This time, your legs are bent in front of you, with two fingers spreading your folds, allowing him to see every bit of your sex in the reflection of the mirror.

Before Sakura knows it, his hand is reaching down into his pants and palming his hard dick while zooming into the picture, inspecting every inch of you that he’s already previously committed to memory. His eyes dart over your clit, that cute little nub that makes you grip his hair as he sucks and licks at it. His eyes move down as he zooms into the image as much as it will allow, looking at your tight hole, which, despite image quality, he can tell is already shining with thick moisture that gives it that glazed, glistening look that makes his mouth water. 

Sakura unbuckles his belt, letting it drag his pants and boxers to his ankles. 

8:43 PM: Baby? Where’d you go? Or should I be saying hi to Togame instead?

Sakura grunts, not realizing that the logistics of sexting and jerking off can be so troublesome—you really have been teaching him a lot. He picks up his phone and shoots you another text.

8:45 PM: Shut up. Keep going. I like what I’m seeing. 

8:45 PM: Yes, sir.

His cock twitches at your use of that honorific. Yeah, being called kitten is lovely when you’re being sweet, but he also likes it when you call him sir or daddy when your naughty side comes out.

Sakura goes back to stroking himself and looking at the previous picture you sent him. The message is pushed up as you send a new image; he doesn’t have to scroll far to see something that makes him leak precum onto the toilet seat below him.

You’ve moved away from the mirror and are lying on the bed; your soft, thick thighs spread far enough to give him a clear view of the two fingers you have shoved in your pretty pussy. He can tell by the white coating near your knuckles that you must have been pumping the absolute hell out of her. 

His mind is racing. Were you thinking about him as you finger fucked yourself? What did you imagine him doing to you? How close were you, and could you hold off until he got home? 

Sakura squeezes his eyes shut, feeling like this entire experience is overloading his senses. He had just learned how to text, and now he’s sexting you? And you’re sending the dirtiest, filthiest messages to him as he jerks off in a public bathroom during his friend’s birthday party?

What the actual fuck..

He licks the palm of his hand and brings it down to stroke himself, imagining that it’s your slick being rubbed into the pores of his dick. He can’t even manage to start slowly because you’ve already done such an excellent job with these pictures—already making his cock hard to the extent that his balls hurt, and if he doesn’t cum soon, he’ll have to punch someone. 

Sakura begins mumbling under his breath as his strokes quicken and increase in intensity. She’s such a good girl for me. Perfectly needy and so into me. She’s so pretty and sweet, and I’m her Daddy.

He’s picturing you in every single position he’s ever had you in and every position he wants to try in the near future. 

He’s imagining sucking on your nipples, biting them as hard as he’d like to without you squealing that it hurts. 

He’s imagining pinning you underneath him while folding your ankles behind your head so he can hit that spot that makes you squirt on his stomach. 

He’s imagining you begging him to pull the condom off and fuck you raw because you “need every last drop of his baby batter” He shivers at the thought of you saying something so slutty and out of character.

The hand holding his phone vibrates, and he enthusiastically pulls his phone back in front of him. This time, you’ve sent a video; he’s never pressed play so fast in his life. 

The video is shakey, but when it beings to play, it focuses in on you fingering your pussy—-his pussy.

“S-SAKURA, FUCK,” blasts through the speakers as you breathily moan his name and your favorite expletive. 

He quickly lowers the volume but not too much so he can still hear as he presses the speaker to his ear, savoring the sound of your moans and the sound of your fingers being stuffed into your hungry cunt, mixing and squelching your juices noisily for him. 

It reminds him of that ASMR shit that you sometimes listen to–if he could have an ASMR recording of just you, your moans, and the sound your pussy makes for him, he’d listen to it every single day.

Sakura feels his hamstrings tighten and a burning sensation in his abdomen; listening to you is bringing him closer to his orgasm, and it feels like it’s going to be intense. 

God, and everything you were saying was just perfect.

“Your pussy misses you, Daddy.”

“I love the way-”  gasp “love the way you fuck me, baby.”

“Haru, I need you, baby. Please come home.”

“I’m so close, but I can’t cum without you, baby boy.”

“I want to squirt on your dick, sir. Please, please, please.”

Sakura hunches over and lets out a deep, guttural moan that can’t be stopped even as he grits his teeth. His balls clench violently, and his nut shoots out onto the toilet seat, toilet bowl, and on the floor. Even when he thinks that his cum is done spilling from him, more bubbles at his tip and dribbles down the length of his cock and along his knuckles. 

He leans against the stall wall and stares at the mess he made—all over himself and everywhere his airborne spunk could reach.

He’s convinced that he’s never come so hard in his life, and it was all because of you. Fuck! He hasn’t messaged you since you called him sir, and that was—he checks the clock on his phone—ten minutes ago!

He types out a message, sneering in disgust as cum smears on his phone screen.

9:05 PM: I just fucking came. Coming home. Don’t clean yourself up.

9:06 PM: CAME?! In your pants….? Or…?

9:08 PM: SAKURA?!

He doesn’t reply because he’s already on his way home to you.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Lol remember the early days when there was an about-even split between people who thought that Gabriel would be Hawkmoth and people who thought Alim Kubdel would be Hawkmoth? Good times, good times. Speaking of Alix’s dad, how would you have had the show pan out with him being Hawkmoth instead?

I wasn't around to see it in real time, but I browse fanfics in rough chronological order starting from the beginning of a fandom, so I'm aware that this theory was a thing because I've read a good portion of the fics that were written pre Origins. (AO3 has a last update filter if you want to pair down your options for a less overwhelming selection or just enjoy fics from before certain plot points came to be.)

While I'm aware of the theory, I'm a little confused as to where it came from. Alim only has two brief appearances in season one. The first is from the start of The Pharaoh. In it, we see Alim telling Jalil that historical artifacts are not meant for testing crackpot theories:

Mr. Kubdel: Jalil, these types of frescoes are almost always the illustration of a legend. They called it a legend for a reason... Jalil: That's what everyone thinks. But I know it's real. I can prove it! Mr. Kubdel: Really? And exactly how are you going to prove it? Jalil: I just need to get my hands on Tutankhamun's scepter and recite the spell! Mr. Kubdel: Are you serious? Don't even think of touching that scepter. I'd lose my job on the spot. It's a priceless historical object! Not a toy! Jalil: Come on, dad! We have to try out the spell! What if Tutankhamun had found out how to bring people back to life? Mr. Kubdel: Listen, Jalil! That's enough! Get your head out of those papyrus scrolls and focus on the real world! This one! (leaves)

And his other appearance is from the start of Timebreaker. In it, Alim gives Alix the watch that is later revealed to be her miraculous:

Alix: They're Marinette's parents. You know, one of the chicks I hang out with? Mr. Kubdel: Yes, I remember. They make the best bread in the whole of Paris. (he notices one of Alix's sneakers) Couldn't you have made more of an effort to dress nicely? Alix: What do you mean? I took off my cap. (points to her cap) Mr. Kubdel: But this is a special day. Alix: Well, it's only a birthday. Mr. Kubdel: No, this is a special birthday (reaches inside his jacket pocket and brings out a watch) This family heirloom was made by one of our ancestors many, many years ago. It's been passed down from one generation to the next, on their 15th birthday. And today, it's your turn to inherit it. Alix: It's pretty sweet, dad. But I've already got a watch, synced up to my smartphone. Mr. Kubdel: But sometimes there's more to things than meets the eye. Let's just say that our ancestor was… (opens the watch) Ahead of his time. (Alix gasps) Of course, I'd understand if you'd rather me buy you a new pair of rollerblades. Alix: No, Dad! I'm stoked to have it. It's awesome, thank you! (her phone rings) Mr. Kubdel: Are your friends waiting? Alix: Yeah, but I don't wanna bail on you. It's cool. Mr. Kubdel: No, no, go ahead. (Alix stands up and grabs her cap) Now, take good care of it.

Based on these two scenes, Alim doesn't read like a villain to me. He reads like some sort of protector. If I had to pick a role for him, it would be the guardian, not the villain. After all, what better way to find missing miraculous than to go into a field that has you informed about all sorts of interesting archaeological discoveries? The fact that he's handing out a miraculous only elevates that potential, especially since Alim was smart enough to give it to the kid who was suited to be a hero while leaving Jali is be his conspiracy-theory-loving self.

Another variation of that is to have him (or Alix's other parent) be the rabbit holder and Alim is passing on the torch to Alix because it's time to start her training. He did say that the watch is handed down through their family and, if there's one miraculous that would need a lot of training, it's the rabbit. Plus a history related field is a perfect fit for a rabbit!

Of course, a villain might also go into a field like curation in order to find miraculous, but I'm really not getting villain vibes here. Part of the reason Gabriel makes such a good villain is that he has a clear, understandable goal: bringing back his wife. Alim has nothing like that, so to make him into a villain, I'd have to come up with a motivation for him and the only thing that I can think of is wanting to bring back his own seemingly missing spouse. That's not a very interesting route, though, since it's just a copy-paste of Gabriel's plot and I'd want Alim to be something unique unless you wanted to swap Adrien and Alix for some reason and just tell the same story with a focus on different characters.

I mean, you could make Alim have a motivation like protecting historical artifacts, but then why would he want the ladybug and the black cat? What wish would he be trying to make? Rewriting history won't protect it! I could maybe see a goal of rewriting history to stop a bunch of atrocities, but any historian would know that undoing a given set of atrocities means massive changes to history and it would likely just lead to different atrocities. You'd have to change how humans work or something equally messed up to make a world without atrocities, which makes it a pretty poor motivation as it would make Alim too cartoonish to really work. He'd feel like such a massive step down from Gabriel's complexity...

All of this is why I don't think that the show should have continued post Gabriel. I just don't see what motivation you can give a villain that isn't either derivative or a cartoonish downgrade. "I want to resurrect my wife" just hits different from "I want to take over the world."

To make Alim a villain in his own right, you'd have to redesign major elements of the show. I think a character with his background would work well as a master thief who collects historical artifacts for his own collection or to sell them so that he can live in luxury, but I can't picture his character sending out akumas to terrorize Paris. Ladybug and Chat Noir would go from action heroes to something more stealthy. Spies who are trying to track down Alim and stop his network, returning artifacts to their rightful owners. Not a bad concept for a show, but too different from Miraculous for me to pretend it's a good concept for a series reboot.

[rose-morose]

just finished season 2 of Jurassic World Chaos Theory and I loved it (spoilers ahead)

it was fantastic, I loved seeing Brooklyn's perspective, Senegal was a nice change of scenery, Kenji and Ben's unhealthy coping mechanisms or lack there of were on point, Yaz and Sammy could not stop being adorable, and the mystery is finally beginning to unfurl

I found it really funny that Ben spent so much time struggling with Brooklyn's phone when Zayna just had her own smartphone on hand since they met

Yasmina keeps her streak from episode 1 of Camp Cretaceous to present as my absolute favourite character in either show

"after that we'll..." -Darius

"do something stupid, probably" - Yaz

"probably" - Darius

Yasmina's delivery of that line was amazingly droll and her extremely dry tone was incredibly facetious and I love her so much she is my spirit animal don't hurt her

and Yasammy continues to bring me joy with all their soft and adorable antics, I need more please give me more

I am loving Brooklyn's uneasy undercover story arc with the broker, but I have yet to see Dominion so I think I'm lacking context on Soyona's character, but oh well

so those are my thoughts on season 2, what did the rest of you think?

[tzilatza]

NATLA Review - spoilers

Woke up today still feeling annoyed after finished the Netflix ATLA remake last night, and I think I've figured out the core reason.

It's the fact that: If they had held truer to the original source material, we could have had a truly great show. I disagree with those calling it a complete disaster. The acting was good, great in some cases. The effects were very well done, the bending looked about as good as it can in a live action media. The scenery was lovely.

But what happened in the writer's room?! The way they just reveal all the back stories up front EVERY TIME is honestly insulting to the audience. It's like they're so terrified that smartphone culture has made the public so accustomed to instant gratification that they have no faith we will stick around and keep watching if they make us wait for anything.

They're also clearly terrified of complexity. One of my biggest gripes with this remake is Jet's story. They completely took out his plans to murder a whole town of innocents in order to get a few enemy soldiers. Now, Jet isn't my favorite character, but his story is so important. Because it is real. The world is full of people who have been so brought down by injustice that they lose their sense of right and wrong, and we need to see that on screen. If Jet is too complex for them, how will they handle Ba Sing Se in the second season.

This goes along the same lines as removing Sokka's sexist moments. They felt they had to do it to make him more 'likable.' Yet the writers themselves went full sexist on Katara's character. They've taken out so much of her spark, her righteous and justified anger, and they've done it because even in 2024, people expect women to be more passive to be palatable. Enough people have already commented on them removing Aang's choice to run away. Heaven forbid the main character not be an absolute paragon. Did y'all notice that they even made Hahn likable? Hahn?! What reason do you have for making Hahn likable Netflix?! His role in the narrative is to be an example of toxic masculinity that is clearly the bad choice compared to Sokka who has learned and grown out of his own.

Don't even get me started with what they're doing with the fire nation family, I'm not ready to tackle that. In general, I have no problem with Azula getting a little more backstory and humanizing, but why season 1? Throwing in all these extra scenes just sacrifices screen-time where they could've actually fleshed out the real season one plots instead of rushing through things at breakneck pace. (ex: Aang escaping Zuko's ship in about 2 minutes flat)

At the end of the day, the scenes I most enjoyed were those that held true to the original like the Blue Spirit sequences. They could've easily done more of this, held onto the important plot points and even more important character complexity, while maturing it for an adult audience. I'm not disagreeing with every change they made. Go ahead and take out the silly Nickelodeon gags, add cussing and more realistic violence to get your mainstream viewers. Go ahead. They could've easily made a darker more mature version of the show and still held onto all the old fans in my opinion. But claiming that you're making a 'more mature' version and then removing the complexity and subtlety because they didn't think viewers could handle it...

What makes me most sad is that there are a lot of people who will experience ATLA for the first time through this show. There are a lot of adults who are not willing to watch original ATLA because they refuse to acknowledge an animated series can be anything other than a kid's show. Those people will watch this and think it's the real deal, and that just makes me sad.

If you've read this far, a very sincere thank you for listening to my rant. If you're an OG fan who enjoyed it, I have no problem with you. It was a fun watch, I was just hoping for more. If you are a new viewer who has never seen ATLA before, I sincerely want to hear your opinions. Is it a great show to someone who isn't holding it against the context of the original? And do you plan to watch the original now?

[salty-croissants]

can you make some headcanons and/or imagine of rayman/ramon with an adoptive human! sister s/o (who used to be from another dimension before moving away to cl world dimension somewhere which is an unaffected good nation that didn't got ruined when she was a kid with her family (her mom, younger biological sister, and one of her female cousins), her pets, and her bunch of friends) after the last episode from season 1 (few moments after killing the broad directors), getting an heart warming reunion before successfuly escaping go get bullfrog out and then flee to the hideout where she shares with her bunch of dear friends who also joined the rebellion ;

like she finally got the accurate precious information about where her brother (rayman/ramon) is, after dolph called her in her smartphone and told y/n where he is and where he is heading to because he also got the information about the heck her bro went through thanks to the virtual realm thing and stuff and he needs to share this information and he also told that after reuniting with her adoptive brother she and him must go get bullfrog, quickly explains his situation and to her end the call before her smartphone may end up getting infected with virus before fighting the bad guys,

so after hearing this she turns off her phone (thankfull didn't got infected), grabbed her weapons, gas mask (modified to look like a bunny rabbit, with the addion of other tech gadgets like walkie talkie like features, night vision, and extra protection, an gas mask she and some of her friends made for him (with the same features from the inside but in the outside made to look like an fox) ((yes all of her friends and pets/familiars are wearing gas masks like this for good reasons)); after she killed all of the other bad guys in the building she comes to where ramon/raymon is laying on the table and before he could do anything, she pulls down her hoodie and shows her face and ray/ramon reconizes her.

((it's based on the concept of my cl timeline self-insert, look at the concept to you have an idea and even use some stuff as reference, in the messages; sorry if it got long))

Thank you for the request !

I really hope I got everything right , there was quite a lot of information to keep track of with this one ;C;👍

This is also my first ever more platonic request , which is pretty neat ! :D

Details : use of female reader ; 

reader is Rayman’s adoptive sister ; 

presence of mild swearing and blood 

< … did you get all that , y/n ? 

You better , cause I don’t have much time left to explain . > 

< Yeah yeah , I got it ! 

It’s just … I can’t believe I’m actually going to see him again … > 

< Stop . I need you to focus now .

You grab your brother , free Bullfrog and get the hell out of there immediately .

I won’t be able to be there with these assholes in the way , so you’re on your own from now … 

I’ll see you when this is all ov - > 

With that abrupt end to Dolph’s call , you remained completely alone 

You took a deep breath , your heart pounding in your chest as you walked forward in the corridor , leaving behind the bodies of the Eden security guards that were unfortunate enough to cross you .

It hadn’t been easy to get that far into the building the Board of Directors used as their headquarters , the many bruises that had cut through your clothes and gas mask were proof of that … 

However , it was all going to be worth it to be reunited with your long lost brother .

How many years had it been since you last got to talk to Rayman before they took him from you ? 

Four ? 

No , maybe even five …

The only way you could see him was when his show aired on tv , and while you were happy to see that he seemed to be alright , the fact that he had become the face of the very thing you and your friends were fighting so hard against broke your heart …

Did that mean that you were enemies now ? 

Was he even going to be happy to see you , or remember who you were … ? 

You shook your head , trying to keep those awful thoughts from tormenting your mind .

Even if Rayman were to regard you as a “terrorist” , you weren’t going to let the Directors or anyone else hurt him , and that was all that mattered .

It only took a few more steps to reach the door that lead to the Director’s room , the place where Rayman was supposed to be in from what Dolph had told you before the beginning of that mission , and when you finally found the courage to open it you found yourself staring at a rather grim sight : 

the all powerful Directors , the ones who had everyone’s lives in the palm of their hands for years , were all laying dead on the table and the floor , their blood painting the otherwise pristine room in a bright crimson , and …

Hang on , was there someone else laying down on that table ?

Could it really be … ? 

< Ray ? > 

As soon as he heard your voice , he immediately jolted up , his breathing heavy as he reached for his guns .

< Who … who the hell are you ? Don’t come any closer ! > 

You sounded strangely familiar to the now ex Eden star … but he knew that it wouldn’t be possible for that very special person to be there . 

It just … it couldn’t be . 

Your eyes widened when you took a better look at your brother : 

he looked so … different …

You had never seen that spark of fury in his eyes , and that was without mentioning his appearance .

Before things could escalate for the worst , you grabbed the mask you were wearing with shaky hands , slowly removing it and revealing your face .

A moment of shocked silence followed , before he jumped down from the table , his eyes never leaving yours as he approached … 

< y/n … ? > 

, he whispered , almost like he was afraid to even speak .

< Oh Ray , I missed you so much ! > 

When you leaned forward to hug him , giving him confirmation that you were actually real and not just a part of his imagination , it was the moment that he finally snapped :

He clutched you tightly , the weight of everything that he had been through that day mixing with the relief of having found you again , after years of not being able to even know if you were okay .

You could hear him sob next to your shoulder …

< I can’t believe … I can’t believe that it’s you , y/n … all this time , I thought … I thought  I’d never see you again … > 

After a few more minutes of much needed crying , the two of you finally pulled away from each other , so happy about being back together that you almost forgot the gravity of your current situation . 

< But … how did you get here ? > 

< It’s kind of a long story , but to cut it short I’ve been working against Eden with a few others , and when Dolph told me you were here I had to come Ray … I had to make sure you were okay . > 

You could see your brother trying to process everything he was hearing , that you were allies with Dolph Laserhawk one of the people he had considered a terrorist just a few days prior … but he visibly flinched a little as you mentioned his old name .

< I see , well it’s thanks to him if we got to reunite then … heh , today’s been one hell of a crazy day .

Though … I gotta ask you to call me Ramon now . 

I don’t wanna go by my old name anymore … reminds me of all the damage I’ve caused and the lies these bastards made me spread . > 

You nodded in response , your gaze softening as you wondered just how awful he probably felt when finding the truth about Eden …

It must’ve been a real hard time for him , which reminded you of the other reason you were there on that mission . 

< Okay , look … I know you’ve already been through a lot today , but I need to set Bullfrog free before they execute him , and I … can’t do it alone . > 

Before you could finish your sentence , Ramon had already begun to pick up his guns from were he left them without hesitation …

< I got your back y/n .

Bullfrog is the reason why I know what Eden has done … I gotta repay the favor . > 

When the both of you walked out of the room , ready for your rescue mission , you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with joy at the thought of having your brother by your side :

this time , nothing was going to take him away from you … you would’ve made sure of that . 

[its-rat-time-babey]

Figuring out when the fuck Glitch Techs takes place.

Spoiler Alert: Not when you’d think.

Also probably spoilers for Glitch Techs idk.

Alright. Glitch Techs. I watched it, I liked it, I mourned that it was shelved by Netflix and will never get a season 3 or a conclusion to the story it was in the process of setting up, and I thought to myself:

“Hey, when does this show actually take place?”

Because we see technology from the past, present and future all in one timeframe being presented like it’s perfectly normal.

For the present (or at least 2019-2020, when the show was made), we see modern smartphones and VR gaming is a regular thing.

(Although do keep in mind that Smartphones seem to look more like the older models of Smartphone compared to our modern 2020 ones. This will be important later)

But that’s where the first flaws start showing up.

Starting with the evidence for the past: There’s fast, modern internet and social media exists, which is a point for modern day, but social media doesn’t seem to be a completely universal thing, with only a few characters we see actually using it.

Streaming and Streamers exist, with Mitch being a former streamer and member of a streaming group, but given how little social media is relevant in the show it’s actually arguable how popular or widespread streaming is.

People definitely know about Mitch Williams and the Furious Four, but I’d argue that those people are limited to more hardcore gamers and Hinobi game enthusiasts and not many (or even any) people outside that niche really know or care.

Mitch’s career as a streamer and any fame he has in general is only really noticed by other hardcore gamers like Five, other Glitch Techs and that one kid in the Hinobi tournament (the fact that they’re in the tournament to begin with means that they’re one of the best gamers Hinobi could find) after all. Miko, a hardcore gamer, doesn’t even know Mitch had a streaming career at all until someone else tells her (although she does kinda get a pass because it’s implied that Miko is homeschooled and just doesn’t know much about social media or streaming in general).

So it appears that in the setting of Glitch Techs, social media and streaming exists, but is a rather niche concept, with only a few demographics of people being interested in that sort of thing. High schoolers and older teens for social media, and hardcore gamers and game enthusiasts for streaming. So in that regard it’s a lot like the early 2000s when that kind of thing was just taking off and wasn’t as popular.

There’s also the far more obvious fact that arcades are common and very popular. Not something that you would expect if this show happens in the modern day.

Even TVs don’t line up with the present day. If you see a TV in glitch techs, it looks more like a TV from the 2010s than the modern day.

Note the stand and the fact that they’re not wall mounted and too thick to be proper modern TVs.

But on the topic of TVs and video games, this is where our one piece of big future evidence exists, so I’m going to disprove it real quick to make things easier for us.

There is holographic technology easily available and commonplace in gaming equipment.

And this isn’t just a regular case of Hinobi having advanced, futuristic technology that it only gives to its Glitch Techs (which I’m fully willing to overlook) because these holographic screens aren’t limited to just Glitch Techs. It’s an ordinary part of Hinobi’s commercial technology.

However, It can just be counted as Hinobi being really shady and advanced in terms of technology, especially since it’s only Hinobi technology that has this stuff. Phones, TVs and etc don’t have holographic screens, and there’s a canonical reason for that in the form of plixels, the Hinobi technology that creates all those glitches in the first place.

Plixels are canonically a thing that Hinobi invented to store massive amounts of data in very small spaces, which they use to make their products as advanced and high quality as possible. They’re also somewhat unstable which is what creates glitches, but that’s a whole different topic.

Point is. Plixels are extremely advanced Hinobi technology used in all of their products, and as seen in the show, can be used to create solid objects if used correctly. The holographic screens are just Hinobi Plixels being used for their intended purpose and it makes perfect sense why Hinobi has this technology, and as such doesn’t really provide any evidence of Glitch Techs happening in the future. Hinobi is strange, shady and has very advanced technology for it’s time, so we’re going to ignore most of the super advanced technology they have.

We will not however, ignore their older technology, especially the tech that parallels our own. That stuff is very useful.

Part 2: Actually solving this thing:

Here’s what we have so far for Glitch Tech’s setting:

VR gaming is a perfectly normal thing that matches or even somewhat surpasses modern VR (2020)

Smartphones exist, but visually resemble older smartphones from the early to mid 2010s

TVs resemble early 2010s TVs

The state of Social Media and Streaming seems similar to how it was in the 2000s

Arcades exist and are very popular, which dates things to anywhere from the 1970s to 1990s

Hinobi’s advanced technology fuckery can complicate things, and provides no evidence for any one time

For actually solving this, we need concrete data and that needs some assumptions regarding our world and how it relates to the world of Glitch Techs.

Because we have about three and a half pieces of hard evidence for the time period that Glitch Tech takes place in, and they don’t give completely conclusive dates, just a time frame of a few years that Glitch Techs can happen in and some explanations and rationalizations are needed to explain things that don’t line up.

It also uses the ages of some characters that I got from the wiki (which may not be completely reliable) and some educated guessing.

Those pieces of evidence are:

Ping’s creation and Emilio Nieves

Spec Ops

Phil’s files, Bitt and Bolybius

One crucial part of figuring out the Glitch Techs timeline is the fact that Video Games as a concept were created rather recently compared to our world. Five’s dad, Emilio Nieves was a former employee of Hinobi and was the creator of the first three video games, including this world’s equivalent of Pong, is still alive and according to the wiki is somewhere in his 40s.

Now we just need to figure out how old he was when he made Ping, and we have some pictures that might help.

In the episode “Ping”, we see Emilio Nieves at three different points in his life.

A young man who appears to be either in or fresh out of college judging by the other people around him that resemble college students.

An older man (that looks the same as before) raising Five that i estimate to be around his 30s considering his current age, Five’s age in the photo and Five’s current age.

Emilio Nieves in his 40s in prison, how he currently is.

Emilio Nieves is somewhere in his 40s, and judging by the pictures and how he was responsible for the first three games, probably made ping fresh out of college, and then made the other two a few years later.

Ping’s real life equivalent, Pong, was made in the year 1972, and if we assume that Ping and Pong share a birth year and Ping really was created when Emilio Nieves was in or fresh out of college, that would put the current year of Glitch Techs in anywhere from 1992 to around 1998, depending on exactly when Ping was made in relation to Emilio Nieves’ time in college (the average college student spends about 4-5 years in college, plus 1 year for time after leaving college).

That’s a pretty big timeframe, but it can be reduced by quite a bit with the help of another equivalent game.

Spec Ops.

Spec Ops is a game made by Hinobi that was freshly released when Five bought it in “Karate Trainer”. It’s also a very obvious parody of Metal Gear, so if we can figure out exactly what game in the Metal Gear franchise it’s closest to, we can compare its release date to the show.

And I narrowed it down to two games in the franchise. The original Metal Gear from 1998 and Metal Gear 2: Sons Of Liberty from 2001.

I apologize for the terrible pictures of the Metal Gear Games, I just couldn’t find any good ones.

I can’t figure out exactly which of the two games are closest to what we see in the show and I don’t really believe it’s possible, but this narrows our timeframe to 1998-2001.

Next up: Phil and his secret files.

According to Bitt, Phil has been working as the manager of Hinobi’s Bailley division for 20 years, and it’s implied that he worked as a Glitch Tech for several years before becoming a manager and being given Bitt. According to the wiki, Phil is somewhere in his 40s.

Now, we see Phil in his 20s in “BITT Prime” courtesy of Bitt’s photo album and we see a much younger version of him in Phil’s hidden files at the end of the episode.

However, you’ll probably notice that these two Phils are not the same. Notice the small beard on File Phil that’s absent on 20-Years-Ago Phil.

But we do still know roughly when this Phil existed because we have a photo close to that.

I’m not joking here. This is 100% serious. Notice the beard. This is the first appearance of said beard in all of Phil’s photos. Hippie Phil does have the beginnings of a moustache that File Phil lacks, but that still helps figure out when File Phil happens because it dates him to just before the photo was taken, in between Hippie Phil and the photo before it.

Hippie Phil is the 3rd picture in that photo album and assuming that each photo was taken one year apart, that means Hippie Phil happened 17 years ago, and File Phil Happened somewhere between 17 and 18 years ago, which I will simply round down to 17.

Hippies were a thing mostly in the 60s and early 70s, so if we assume that the photo was taken in the early 70s, that would place us around 1987-ish. But there’s a massive problem here: Ping puts us around 1992-1998 and Spec Ops somewhat narrows it down to 1998-2001, but now we have evidence pointing to way earlier than even the oldest possible date of 1992.

Luckily, although HIPPIES were a thing in the 60s and 70s, TIE-DYE specifically was a thing that went in and out of fashion during the 70s, 80s, 90s and even the 2000s. Phil isn’t being a Hippie in that photo, he’s just wearing tie dye, which happened to be in-style when the photo was taken, and I can’t explain the peace signs and stoned expression. Maybe some things are best left unanswered.

But this gives us another problem. Now the timeframe is too wide, spanning nearly 40 years of time. But this too can be solved using a completely different theory involving a certain arcade game that I have a love-hate relationship with:

Polybius. More specifically it’s in-universe equivalent Bolypius.

Almost nothing is known about Bolypius other than a few hints we’re given sparsely throughout the show, including:

Bolypius is a glitch of some kind that’s incredibly dangerous and important, possibly being intelligent and able to act human

Hinobi has no idea where Bolypius currently is

Miko may be important in locating Bolypius’s current location, for reasons that are unknown but probably linked to her reset immunity

If the show hadn’t been canned by Netflix, we would have had an episode dedicated to Bolypius, named “Bolypius”

An animatic from an unreleased episode exists bringing up “Bolypius Chess” as a very old game in the Glitch Techs universe

Bolypius presumably takes many details from its real urban legend equivalent

Now taking that last fact into consideration, here’s some important, basic details about Polybius:

Polybius was made by the government and caused all sorts of physiological effects on the people that played it

Mysterious men in black would often be seen messing with the machine and taking strange data from it

One day, Polybius just vanished. Taken away by the government never to be seen again.

Taking that into consideration and assuming that Polybius and Bolypius share similarities with each other (which they most likely do), you can assume some things about Bolypius, mainly that it was most likely purposefully created by Hinobi (who take up the role of the government here because it’s Hinobi, of course they do) for whatever reason and like Polybius, just vanished one day, with the difference that Polybius was taken away BY the government and Bolypius escaped FROM the government (or Hinobi in this case).

How does this apply to Phil’s messages to his future self? Well we’ll never know what those messages involve because Netflix is a bitch but judging by Past Phil’s comments about Hinobi wiping the minds of employees, the warning he delivers about “things getting glitchy” in the future and the slow reveal of Bolypius that was supposed to happen if the show didn’t get canned, it’s pretty safe to assume that these messages involve Bolypius in some way.

We also know that this information isn’t a clue to Bolypius’s location because for one, Phil’s mind was wiped at some point after making these videos, and if Hinobi is trying to FIND Bolypius they probably wouldn’t erase the mind of someone who has a clue to their location.

No, the video is definitely talking about Bolypius, but I don’t think it’s about its location or where it went. Past Phil mentions that he took a bunch of files from Hinobi’s development lab, aka the part of Hinobi responsible for making new technology and games, so I think these files aren’t about Bolypius’ location, but rather Bolypius’ CREATION.

Like it’s real equivalent, Bolypius was made by the government (or in this case, the equally shady Hinobi), and Past Phil somehow stole files detailing that process or was possibly even directly involved in the project, but had his mind wiped afterwards. It explains not only why Hinobi would wipe Phil’s mind several times in the past, but also his Phil’s warnings and why he bothered to send his future self a message in the first place.

But more importantly than that big theory that honestly deserves its own post, Polybius has a release date: 1981.

If Bolypius was made in the same year as its real world counterpart and Phil’s message involves Bolypius’ creation like I theorized, the year 1981 lines up with everything else.

It’s 9 years after the invention of Pong/Ping, so Hinobi could be a proper game company with designated Glitch Techs by that time.

That 9 years gives us more than enough time for Phil to have gotten those pictures taken over the course of 3 years.

The 80s were a time where Tie-Dye was in style, lining up with the Tie-Dye Phil picture.

And finally, taking the year 1981 and adding 17 years (the rough amount of time since that last photo was taken) gives us the year 1998, a year that fits with the other bits of evidence perfectly.

Part 3: 1998 Evidence:

1998 specifically lines up with almost all other pieces of evidence I’ve given.

Bolypius’s presumed birthday plus the age of Phil’s messages and photos gets us 1998.

If Emilio Nieves built Ping at the end of his college years or when he was fresh out of college, it’s fully possible for him to make at least 3 other games, have Five, be arrested for hacking and end up in prison by his 40s in 1998. In fact, this is even more likely given that the Ping machine has Hinobi’s logo on it, meaning that Emilio Nieves was a Hinobi employee when he made it. He probably got hired fresh out of college and invented Ping very early in his career, something that is entirely possible because Emilio Nieves is a master programmer.

The year 1998 is the exact year that Metal Gear (1998) came out, perfectly lining it up with the in-universe Spec Ops that came out in the current Glitch Techs year.

Arcades like we see in the show were popular in the 90s, albeit losing popularity at the time, and as even more evidence, the 80s and early 90s were the time when animatronic restaurants were at their most popular, lining up with in-universe things like Joystick Jr’s using animatronics when Five was a kid.

However, there’s still the existence of high speed internet, streaming and social media (in an early 2000s-like state), VR games, smartphones and TVs (which both resemble the 2010s versions of themselves).

Luckily for that, we have an explanation in the form of Hinobi’s high tech tomfuckery. More specifically the impact it would logically have on the rest of the world’s technology and technological advancement.

High speed internet can be explained by the invention of plixels, which are supposed to be an extremely compact and fast form of data storage. The invention of that technology would 100% kickstart the internet into a version that’s a lot closer to the modern version in terms of availability and speed. Even without directly using plixels, their invention would kickstart the invention of other high speed data storage technologies that would also bring the internet up to our modern speeds.

The extremely fast upgrading of the internet courtesy of plixel technology would also probably kickstart things like social media and streaming into becoming a thing way earlier than normal, but we see that it’s still not completely known by everyone.

Hinobi’s advanced technology (at least the stuff it actually sells) could also end up influencing things like smartphones into existing early and speed up the development of TVs from bulky CRTs to the significantly less bulky plasma screens (presumably they’re plasma screens based on their looks) we see in the show. The extremely fast advancement of the internet may also affect the invention of smartphones. They’re not as advanced as the modern stuff we have as they resemble smartphones and TVs from the 2010s, but they’re still more advanced than what you’d normally see in 1998.

VR being common and actually more advanced than 2020 VR is just Hinobi being Hinobi.

So TLDR: Glitch Techs takes place in the year 1998, in a universe where certain technologies were heavily influenced and advanced by roughly a decade or two due to Hinobi’s high tech tomfuckery.

[twilightmalachite]

Kanna Natsu Mini Talk - Audition VS GLADIATOR -Fourth piece-

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Although there are various methods of input, such as using a PC, smartphone, or voice input... Handwriting is absolutely necessary."

How to Fill Out a Form

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: ES Building Lounge

Kanna: Anzu-san, perfect timing.

I'm currently working on filling out the necessary information on a profile sheet for the audition.

Does this really have to be handwritten?

💬 I guess they'd like it to be handwritten

Kanna: Seems to be the case. Although there are various methods of input, such as using a PC, smartphone, or voice input... Handwriting is absolutely necessary.

...It's so viewers can get a sense of an idol's personality from their handwriting?

I see it now, it's what they call fan psychology. I've learned something.

💬 Would you prefer to use a PC?

Kanna: Yes, that is correct. It doesn't have to be a PC, a smartphone would suffice. ...Anything is fine as long as I can utilize inputs.

Writing by hand can result in mistakes, which would cause for everything to have to be rewritten on a spare form.

And those sorts of things are a hassle. So if possible, I'd like to utilize the tools of civilization.

Kanna: Now then, I've verified it must be handwritten, so I suppose I should fill out the content.

Receiving reminders to be sure not to submit things late is a hassle, so I think I will complete it early and get it out of the way.

...Speaking of, where will I be submitting this once I have completed it?

💬 If you're affiliated with an agency, then...

Kanna: So then the agency will compile the information and forward them to the audition management...

This is a problem. I am not affiliated with any agency, meaning I have nobody to compile this for me.

...You'll look into it for me, Anzu-san? Is that so, thank you very much.

💬 To the audition management, I guess

Kanna: Well, I'd figured that was my only option, as it was the management that asked me to fill it out...

Still, I didn't expect to have to send it over individually. I'd appreciate it if it could at least be compiled within ES.

But because I do not believe there are any other idols in my position... Could you look into this for me, Anzu-san?

Kanna: Phew. I've successfully finished filling out the form.

How I felt filling it out...? I don't know how to answer that. I answered each of the questions honestly, I don't particularly have any thoughts.

If anything, I would like to hear yours. Is the content here sufficient?

💬 Would you let me see?

Kanna: This is something that will be seen by many people. I didn't write anything that would cause me trouble if anyone saw it.

Although there was a section where I couldn't think of anything, so I wrote down "nothing in particular"...

Well, that also what you could consider my personality. Please do give it a look.

💬 Let's see...

Kanna: You like how the "my hashtag" section brings out my personality...?

Your positive evaluation puts me at ease. If you had said it was no good, I had felt that worst case scenario, I would have to rethink everything.

Now then, this is the content I'll be submitting. I am glad it went well.

[ ☆ ]

Here is The Arena

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: The Arena's Corridor

Kanna: Exploration of the facility is complete. A rough understanding of the judging system within The Arena has also been acquired.

In order to verify uncertain elements, it will be necessary to observe and survey the other participants, but...

I too am one of these "gladiators" summoned to this venue. I must ready myself for battle.

💬 Hello

Kanna: Yes, hello... Oh, it's Anzu-san?

I was wondering who would talk to me so casually despite being a participant, but it makes sense that it is you.

Are you patrolling as a judge of the audition? Thank you for all your hard work.

💬 Are preparations going well?

Kanna: I had not expected to meet you in a place like this, Anzu-san... No, you do have the role of a judge, don't you?

And so in accordance, you are in the midst of touring The Arena, aren't you?

Right, I will also answer the questions you had asked. In regard to preparations, I'm now in the process of procuring equipment.

Kanna: I do not know what it is like at the other venues, but this corridor in The Arena is a tad dim.

Well, I think equipping a venue where gladiators gather with fluorescent lighting would only ruin the atmosphere.

...Ah, there is a ledge there. Please watch your step.

💬 Thank you

Kanna: No, it wasn't meant to be a courtesy. I had calculated that if you had tripped there, you would have fallen towards me, Anzu-san.

And if you had, I would lack the physical strength to be able to catch you...

The best way to avoid danger is through precaution. Do be mindful of the props and such placed around

💬 You really have to watch where you walk, huh

Kanna: Indeed. There are ledges, chains sprawled across the floor, props placed all over...

And additionally, there is the dim lighting. It's in your best interest to remain somewhat attentive as you walk around.

I am care not to trip over anything as I explore around the venue. I cannot afford to trip and get hurt.

Kanna: ...Ah, excuse me. I was out of topics so I stopped talking.

Silence doesn't particularly bother me, but I'll be happy to answer any questions if you have them.

You may ask whatever questions you'd like, but I ask you to not expect interesting answers.

💬 I'd like to hear some enthusiasm

Kanna: I only am participating because I had been told my safety would be ensured, so I feel con-fuddled when asked what I am enthusiastic about.

But I do suspect there are mechanisms within The Arena I can utilize my brain for.

I hope I can unearth my own way of strategy and fighting. ...Is this the answer you were seeking?

💬 What did you do before going to bed last night?

Kanna: Hm. I anticipated a question about the audition, so this question was outside of my expectations.

I do not know how knowing what I did last night will benefit you, Anzu-san, but... I'll answer your question.

Last night, I went to bed early in preparation for the audition. As such, nothing in particular was done.

[ ☆ ]

[engie-ivy]

(@wolfstarmicrofic Wolfstar loosely based on the movie Stardust)

10th: Myth

843 words

He Who Possesses the Heart of a Star

Remus barely manages to find a table to have his morning tea and read his paper. The fact that the cafés, bars and restaurants are all overflowing with people definitely proves that tourist season is well on its way, and every year, their picturesque small town seems to attract more visitors.

Remus is sitting outside on a terrace overlooking the town square. He would’ve preferred a bit more shadow, but as he’s lucky to have found a place at all, he really can’t complain. At the table next to him, a mother with two young children is seated, the family definitely being tourists. The mother is flipping through the menu, while the boy, probably around twelve years old, is reading from a travel guide to his little sister.

“They say that over three hundred years ago, a star fell from the sky and landed right in this very town,” the boy says. “The crater can actually still be seen at the west side. And it was not just any star! It was Sirius, before that fateful moment the brightest star in the sky.” He looks over the book towards his little sister, who’s looking at him with big eyes, and he continues in a low, ominous voice. “As it is said that possessing the heart of a star can grand you eternal life, this town was soon overflowing with power-hungry knights, savvy traders, opportunistic adventurers, hopeful thieves, ambitious warlocks and, most of all, ugly witches longing to have their youth and beauty back,” he reads. “All wanting to rip out the heart of the star and live forever!”

His little sister shrieks, and their mother gives the boy a stern look.

“But alas, the star was never found,” the boy quickly finishes.

“Because it is only a myth,” their mother says soothingly to the little girl, before turning to the boy. “So stop scaring your sister with silly stories!”

“But the crater is really here, though!” The boy says. “Can we go see, mum? Please?”

Remus puts his empty mug down and fishes some coins out of his pocket that he drops on the table, before standing up to make his way home.

Walking westwards, Remus passes the tour guides showing groups around town and the groups of tourists taking pictures of the old town house. He walks past the shop at the corner, where there used to be a weaver for three generations long, until it was turned into a tailor, even a candle maker for some time, and then into a grocery for a few decades. Now, it is a flashy shop where they sell Oreo waffles with Nutella topping or something like that.

As Remus comes home, his husband is lying on the couch scrolling through his smartphone.

“Those things are really going to be the downfall of society,” Remus scoffs.

His husband looks up with a raised eyebrow. “You said the same thing when they invented the TV, and who needs to watch his favourite shows now every night?”

Remus glares at him, and his husband sighs and puts his phone away. “Okay, what has gotten you in such a mood?”

“This town is becoming more of a tourist trap with each passing year. Nothing is like the good old days anymore,” Remus grumbles.

His husband rolls his eyes. “Okay, grandpa.”

“Oi! I look much younger than I am,” Remus protests as he sits down on the couch next to his husband.

“Oh, I don’t deny that,” his husband chuckles as he lies down with his head in Remus’ lap. “But on the inside, you’re just a grumpy old man.”

Remus almost automatically starts carding his fingers through his husband’s hair, who closes his extraordinary silver eyes, and here, in the safety and comfort of their own home, starts softly glowing.

“I guess the tourists do make the place more lively,” Remus admits.

His husband hums contently. “And they are a whole lot better than those starhunters who used to come here.”

“Did you know they still tell that story?” Remus asks. “It’s actually in the travel guides.”

His husband opens his eyes. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Remus grins. “All about how people came from all over the world searching for Sirius, the brightest star that had fallen from the sky, lured by the promise of eternal life.”

“Well, as obnoxious as they were, I suppose I can’t blame them,” his husband says. “I mean, it is quite something, isn’t it?” He takes Remus’ hand and places it over his heart, covering it with his own. “To live forever because you completely possess the heart of the brightest star?”

Remus regards his husband with a well-known surge of affection and a strong and familiar feeling of love, regards the man who crashed into his life all those years ago and has made his every day brighter since, literally and figuratively. “Yes,” he replies. “It is quite something indeed.”

No man can live forever, except he who possesses the heart of a star, and Sirius had given his to Remus completely.

[surrogate-fawn]

Quartz and Sea Glass

((Drabble/Short story based on the backstory a rp with @mittysins of Fawn's first step into the world of surrogacy.))

{This drabble is a sequel to "The First Goodbye" and is Part Two of a planned series based on the rp between Mitty and I. This drabble will not make sense without the context of Part One.}

TW: Mentioned miscarriage/stillbirth, infertility, family abandonment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't put me on a pedestal for what I decided to do with my life. I ain't a saint.

I'll fully admit that I became a surrogate for selfish reasons. When I discovered there was a market out there of couples who needed a healthy body to carry their baby, I did not give a single shit about helping them -- all I cared about was the money.

I was twenty years old and homeless, still living off minimum wage. Can 'ya really blame me?

Lord only knows how that little worm of an idea got into my brain. Maybe it was during a mindless re-watch of season four of Friends. Maybe it was seeing something on the news. Or maybe it was during one of those three-in-the-morning anxiety attacks -- the ones that had me scribbling down as many outlandish solutions to my life as could fit on a napkin.

Not a lot of good ideas came about that way.

However it got there, one day I found myself seated at a library computer searching up as much information as I could find about surrogacy. As soon as I saw the rates some of these couples were willing to pay, I was sold. Fifty to sixty grand -- paid over the span of months. That sure as hell beat $7.25 an hour! The fact I could be eligible for certain state benefits on top of that money didn't hurt, either.

Best part? The one obstacle that could've been in my way had been crashed down a year ago: at least one healthy and successful prior pregnancy.

This was it. This was my way out!

But I hesitated.

As I sat there, staring at the Google search results that led me down the rabbit hole, I wondered if I was really capable of going through it all again. Not so much the physical symptoms, those all passed as soon as the pregnancy was over.

I was wondering if I could handle saying goodbye again.

My son's first birthday had just passed. I'd put a candle in a cupcake and blown it out for him the day of, alone in my room and still in my UDF uniform after work. I'd wished I'd known what name they gave him. The "Happy Birthday" song is a 'lil hard to sing without a name. I'd just called him "my baby" in the song. At least it fit. He would always be my baby, wherever he was and whatever he was called.

I blinked at the blue-tinted monitor. The screen was getting fuzzy and my eyes were stinging. I force-closed the dozens of tabs I had open, shut the computer off, and began my walk back to the women's shelter.

No, I couldn't. Money or no money, I couldn't go through it again. I never...never wanted to go through it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, I made another trip to the library to borrow some time at the computer. I couldn't afford a laptop or smartphone, so it was a trip I usually made every other day; but work had been leaving me too tired to swing by.

I found an email waiting for me in my inbox, from a surrogate agency site I remembered looking up. In my mad scrolling, I must have signed up for their mailing list without thinking about it. It was from the highest-rated site I'd found, so at least I didn't have to worry about it being a phishing scam or tied to some baby black market or whatever.

I almost deleted it out of reflex, but the subject line read: "The Basics of Surrogacy, Free Information Guide". A brochure? Not an ad pressuring me to join so they could start taking a cut of my pay? Sure, I'd take a brochure.

So, that was the moment I made the best decision of my life: I opened that email.

I'll spare you the business side of things, but once I got in touch with the agency it all started falling into place. The whole process was much more voluntary than I realized. I spoke with several surrogate mothers who had been matched with clients through the site, and they all stood firm that nothing was done unless both the surrogate and the parents agreed to it. I would have a say in who I matched with. I would have a say in how much I was to be paid. I would even have a say in what the birthing experience would be like!

What finally sealed the deal for me, though, was the fact this company only dealt with what I learned were called "gestational surrogacies" -- meaning none of their surrogates were the biological parents of the babies they carried. I'd have someone else's egg inside me -- I would essentially be a walking incubator. That sounds kinda weird when you think about it, but it solved the biggest issue I had with tapping into this gold mine.

Not my baby? Not my DNA? Fine by me. I decided I'd gladly get paid fifty grand to sit around and grow someone else's kid. Sounded like the easiest job in the world.

I sent my application in two days later.

Two months, a psychiatric assessment, and dozens of medical tests later, I was in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tariqs weren't the first couple who asked to meet with me. There were two other couples I had a first meeting with, but neither of them clicked with me the way Ray and Tess did.

We met for the first time at a park situated alongside the Tennessee River, bundled in jackets to keep out the early-autumn chill. There just so happened to be a food truck parked by the entrance we agreed to meet at, and Tess declared we should get to know each other over lunch. Seeing as I had skipped breakfast to make it to work on time, I didn't mind the idea.

I was standing off to the side while the Tariqs ordered from the truck, counting out the amount of cash I had on me, when suddenly I heard Tess call me over.

"Which one 'ya want, shug?" she asked, pointing to the menu plastered on the truck's side.

They bought me a chicken panini and a hot hazelnut macchiato, insisting it was their treat. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have needed the rest of that interview -- I had already chosen to be their surrogate in my head.

Buying me food is a fantastic way to get to get me to like you.

We sat at a picnic table beneath the golden oak trees and got to talking. Raymond (or Ray, as he preferred to be called) was a second-generation Indian immigrant and Tess, his wife, was a born-and-bred Knoxville gal. They lived on the rural side of Knoxville, just barely inside the city limits, in a 1960's farmhouse they'd refurbished themselves. Both were in their mid-thirties by the time they sought out surrogacy; up until that point, they'd been though quite a battle with infertility:

They'd been trying throughout their four years of marriage, but Tess could never carry to term. The few times her pregnancy tests would come up positive, she'd bleed a few weeks later. Although they weren't opposed to modern medicine, they'd preferred to try more "natural" methods to solve their fertility issue before going to a doctor. Such methods included the Kama Sutra, meditation, crystals, herbal blends and -- of course -- prayer.

Just the year prior, it seemed their home remedies had worked when Tess finally made it into the second trimester with a baby boy.

They'd lost him in a stillbirth days before the third trimester milestone.

Piled onto that tragedy, the hospital discovered Tess had a defective uterus -- it was physically impossible for her to carry to term. So, that's where I came in.

As I told them about myself, they were delighted to know I came from a household that had rather New Age ideas about life. I didn't mention that I no longer lived by those ideas -- it would've opened too many questions.

However, I certainly understood the good home remedies could do! I was more than happy to trade my recipes for salves for Ray's tips on where to buy the best beeswax in Knoxville. So happy, in fact, that I got carried away.

"My mom makes beeswax candles," I said, hurrying to swallow the bite of panini I had in my mouth. "She used to scent 'em with oils from her flowers, but the oil would seep right outta the wax once it got warm." I chuckled, feeling my nose crinkle in the embarrassing way it does when I laugh. "Sometimes, at dinner, we'd light one of her candles at the table. We'd blink and suddenly there'd be a puddle of rose oil dripping onto the beans and cornbread!"

"Maybe I can help her out with that," Ray said with a grin. He took a quick sip of his coffee. "My grandparents keep bees over in India. My family has a lot of tips on how to melt and mix the wax."

I almost choked on my food when I realized I'd brought up my family. Shit...now I had to be careful.

"Maybe," I said with a causal shrug. "She's back home in West Viginia with everyone else. It's a little hard to make time to see 'em."

"Oh, I'm sure," Tess nodded. "It's the same with my daddy's side of the family. We're just so far apart we forget 'ta check up on each other as often as we should." She finished off the last of her bagel. "And with you, Fawn, you work full time with a little 'un at home. I'm sure 'ya family understands."

I didn't blink for a while. I just stared at the river until the cold breeze dried my eyes out. "Oh, well..." I cleared my throat, "I don't have a little one at home."

Tess looked confused. Ray looked mortified.

"But it says on 'ya file you were pregnant last year?" Tess half-asked, half-stated. I could tell from her tone that there was no malice in her. She'd clearly read my profile and made assumptions.

I smiled, maybe showing a little too much teeth. "Yeah, I was. Very healthy pregnancy, very healthy baby boy, but I don't have a little one at home."

Ray put his hand over his wife's wrist, his sea glass bracelet quietly clattering on the wooden table. Tess went pale and her look of confusion faded into a silent scream.

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean 'ta-."

"No, no! I don't mind bringing him up!" I said, a nervous laugh jittering my lungs. "I never get the chance to talk about my son, but I think about him all the time!"

I surprised myself when the expected sorrow didn't come. Instead, excitement filled its place -- an odd sense of relief that I could let out some of the thoughts that had been haunting me.

I proceeded to word-vomit about how wonderful it was to be pregnant with my son, and how angelic his parents were to me, and how I knew he would be okay -- even if I missed him -- and so forth and so on. I honestly don't think I stopped for breath.

I saw Ray and Tess glance at each other from the corners of their eyes as I rambled, a pair of knowing grins on their faces.

I'm no mind reader, but I think that's when the Tariqs made their final decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tess was with me for the embryo transfer, her ring-laden hand resting on my arm as everything was prepped. I was bloated as a water balloon from the multiple fertility drugs I'd been plunging into my veins -- every day, might I add -- for the past month. I sure was hoping those suckers worked, because being in a permanent state of PMS was ass. Total ass.

I reclined on the exam table, legs up in those familiar stirrups and my hips covered by a thin sheet of paper. I inhaled through my nose as the doctor inserted a long, thin tube of plastic through the ring of my cervix -- the end of which was attached to a syringe full of clear fluid. Somewhere in that syringe, three little embryos floated around -- and one of them was hopefully about to nestle into its new home.

I watched the fuzzy grey blurs on the ultrasound screen as the doctor angled the wand to see what he was doing. As I watched each of the three tiny balls leave the tube...I just hoped those fertility drugs didn't work too well.

Tess grinned down at me once it was over, her blonde braid falling over her shoulder. "We got three good un's in there," she said. I noticed she was clutching the quartz pendant around her neck like a string of prayer beads. "I'm sure one of 'em will like 'ya enough 'ta stick around."

I think she was just as worried as I was. Tess's egg retrieval, the test tube fertilization, the freezing, and my daily injections all combined into almost three months of prep work just for this ten-minute procedure.

And if it failed, we'd have to do it all over again. And if that failed, we'd do it again. And again.

"Yeah," I sighed, lowering my legs from the stirrups, "I hope you're right, Tess. 'Cause if not, I swear to God I'm gonna have-."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"A girl!" Tess screeched to the high heavens, throwing herself against Ray in an attack hug. She jumped for joy while hanging from his neck, almost pulling the poor man to the floor. "It's a girl, Ray! We're havin' a girl!"

Ray laughed, backing up from the table so his wife didn't mule kick the ultrasound technician. "I don't know, Fawn," he said, looking my way with a huge smile and a raised eyebrow. "Do you think it's a girl?"

"Not sure," I said, my nose crinkling in a snicker, "but I think Tess said something about it being a girl."

"Shuddup you two," Tess giggled, sniffling as tears began falling down her cheeks.

Ray held his wife's face in his hands and gave her a kiss deep enough to explore the sea floor. The technician and I decided to focus on the ultrasound images to give the couple some privacy.

I craned my neck to look up at the screen. What had been a microscopic ball four months ago was now an apple-sized baby girl with wiggling arms and legs, and -- thank God -- there was only her in there. The other two embryos had never taken, but this rowdy little girl had held tight. I smiled as I watched the rapid flutter of her heart beating, amazed at the sight. I remembered being just as amazed by my son's heartbeat, what few times I'd gotten to see it.

"Look how active she is!" the technician said, pointing to the baby's constant wiggling. "You should be feeling those little dance moves of hers very soon."

Ray and Tess returned to admire the fuzzy images on the screen. Tess was drying her eyes on her sleeves, and Ray's smile may as well have been glowing. He had his arm around Tess's shoulders as they watched the miniature dance party going on inside me. The sea glass bracelet rattled as his hand came to rest over his heart.

"That's our daughter, Tess," he said. His voice broke a bit as he repeated: "That's our daughter."

"Yep," Tess sniffled, hugging her husband's torso and resting her head on his shoulder, "that's her."

I watched them hold each other like that until the technician turned off the wand and wiped the gel from my slightly rounded belly.

The Tariqs had already begun the steady payment plan we'd agreed to. Even after the agency took its cut each month, it was still more than I'd ever made in my life. That had been why I'd agreed to do this for them, after all.

That ultrasound appointment is what changed my outlook on what I was doing.

These two people. These two amazing people, so overcome with joy because I was carrying the baby that they could not.

I wasn't an incubator anymore. I felt more like a nanny, protecting their baby for them until she was strong enough to come out. They'd wanted this baby for so, so long -- and I was the one making that dream of theirs come true.

I knew what it was like to desperately want to hold a baby you were unable to have. I may not have been able to heal my own hurt, but here I was...healing theirs.

I wasn't doing it for the money after that.

I never did it for the money again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five days after my twenty-first birthday, I woke up to a rather nasty surprise at one in the morning. I'd gotten kicked in the bladder, and my bedsheets and pajama bottoms were damp and sticking to my skin in the humid July air. Fantastic. Not again.

With a groan, I rolled out of bed and started shuffling my way to my door. I held the weight of my belly in my arms as I made my way to the upstairs communal bathroom, hoping to take the pressure off my hips.

I blinked against the harsh florescent light as it sputtered to life over the toilet. With a gruff sigh, I shut and locked the door.

"Suri, you gotta stop doing this," I slurred, my mouth too tired to move. "I'm letting you use my uterus as a bed and breakfast. The least you could do is not try to pop my bladder every night."

Surinder. Her name was Surinder, but we'd been calling her Suri for short. Ray picked it out. He liked it because it was based on the name of a Hindu god and also sounded like the word 'surrender' in English. Tess had fallen in love with the name. Me? I would've just stuck with 'Suri'. I knew exactly what kind of teasing she was in for at school with a name like 'Surinder'.

You can't exactly walk into public school with a name like 'Fawn' and not get laughed into oblivion.

At least the nickname gave her an extra name to fall back on. If that didn't work, she also had her middle name to use: Elora. I would've done the same back in high school -- I did have three to pick from -- but 'Aspen', 'Coriander', and 'Medulla' wouldn't have made the teasing any better.

I'd gone in at age eighteen and erased two of those names. It was just "Fawn Coriander Sequioa" now. Still not a normal name by any means. I often thought about going back into the records and legally changing my last name, just like my parents had done when they'd joined the commune before I was born.

I didn't need my last name. My family didn't want me anymore.

Alexander may have opened up a whole new world for me, but he made sure I burned every bridge behind me as I crossed it. I was already beginning to question my parents' worldview by the time I started dating him, but he took that little spark of doubt -- a spark that, if left alone, would've grown into a steady burn-away of my old ideals -- and fanned those embers into an uncontrollable hatred.

"They're a cult, babe," he'd told me. "Why can't you see that? I can take you away from that bullshit that says you gotta fuck other guys to be happy. I only want what's best for you, and for us."

After months of letting my teenaged angst and frustration boil over, it happened. An argument started between Mom and I over something asinine, and the geyser fucking exploded.

I parroted everything Alexander had been telling me. I told my parents they were nothing but sexual perverts who wanted me to be a whore all my life. I told them how their "woo-woo" medicine got kids killed all over the country, and that blood was on their hands. I told them how much they'd fucked up in raising me.

I told them I hated them.

I told Dad I hoped the next woman who sucked his dick bit it off.

I told Mom that if it was her, I hoped she died choking on it.

The last time I saw Dad, he was throwing everything I owned out of my bedroom window until I was on the sidewalk surrounded by broken furniture and muddy clothes.

The last time I saw Mom, she was sobbing face-down on the couch and refusing to look at me.

Even now, I would be willing sell my soul -- to lay down and die -- just to undo what I did that day.

I didn't give a shit at the time, though. I picked up what I could carry off the front lawn and walked to the nearest payphone to call Alex. I had to tell him I was finally free.

Free.

Right.

What a fucking joke.

I splashed some cold water on my face to wash off the nighttime sweat. Suri rolled one of her feet against the top of my belly, causing a little moving bump that I playfully poked with my finger.

"I'm going to bill you for all those crazy dance parties you're having in there, missy," I said with a grin, a lot less frustrated with her than I was a second ago.

I grabbed a washcloth to start cleaning myself off, but the realization dawned on me and I stopped cold. That was her foot. Her foot was at the top of my belly...which meant her head was angled down...which meant there was no way she'd kicked my bladder.

As I stood at the sink trying to solve that puzzle, I found the missing piece. My belly clamped down hard enough to pitch me forward. I grabbed onto the sides of the sink with a small gasp, feeling the muscles of my torso all tighten and shrink in the direction of my uterus. As it did, a little more dampness spread across my pajama pants.

Oh fuck.

Oh, holy fuck!

I left the bathroom in as much of a jog as I could manage, rushing back into my room and to the brand-new cell phone charging by the window. I had no idea how to save numbers on that thing, so I manually dialed Ray's number. His was the only one I could remember.

The other side of the call rang for a solid thirty seconds before Ray's sleep-drunk voice picked up:

"Hello?" he grumbled. "Who is this?"

Oh, right. He probably didn't have my new number saved, either.

"Ray, it's Fawn," I said, noticing too late that my voice was trembling. "You and Tess need to come pick me up...like right now!"

I heard a rustle on the other end, and suddenly Ray sounded very much awake. "Fawn? Fawn, what's wrong?!" I thought I heard Tess say something nearby, probably on the other side of their bed. "Why do you need us to get you?! Suri isn't due for another two weeks!"

"She...she had other plans," I said, taking a deep breath to steel my nerves. "My water just broke."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray's face was illuminated by the highway streetlights as he glanced back at Tess and I in the backseat of the car. "How's it going back there?" he asked, flicking his gaze between us and the road.

"Aughh!" I groaned in response as a contraction stole my ability to speak. I tried to lift my hips off the leather seat as more fluid leaked from me, but the seatbelt held me down. I was already sitting in a small puddle of it, and I was worried I was ruining their upholstery. I was still dressed in my pajamas, but I considered them a lost cause.

"We're doin' fine," Tess said, slipping her hand into mine so I could squeeze it -- which I did. "Focus on the road, Ray."

Tess had buckled herself into the middle seat of the minivan, giving her enough room to tend to me while I was strapped in the window seat. I sat with my legs as far apart as the seatbelt would allow. I could already feel the baby pressing through my cervix, and I recognized the pounding pressure that came with it.

The contraction lasted about forty seconds, and it left me reeling and panting. I had no idea when to expect the next one. "Why is this happening so fast?!" I asked, my voice shrill with anxiety. "I was in labor for over a day last time!"

"It's probably not happenin' as fast as 'ya think, doll," Tess assured me, giving my hand a pat. "You could'a slept through most of early labor. Second baby always comes faster than the first, 'ya know."

No. No, I did not know!

"Tessie, how close did the doula say she was?" Ray asked, obeying his wife and not taking his eyes off the road that time.

Tess's face was bathed in white light as she quickly checked her phone. "Ten minutes," she said. "She'll be waiting outside the house when we get there."

Just before she put her phone away, I saw her clutching the quartz pendant again.

Just as promised, the doula was parked outside the Tariqs' farmhouse when we got there. She climbed out of her car as soon as our headlights lit up the gravel driveway. Ray parked the minivan with a lurch and jumped out to start helping her carry things into the house.

Tess helped me out of the car, letting me use her as a crutch as we hobbled up the front steps.

"You ready 'ta do this, Fawn?" she asked.

"Are you ready to do this?" I rebutted.

Tess paused for a second, and then rubbed my lower back as we reached the porch. "Not really," she said, "but no one ever is."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out, I wasn't as deep into active labor as I thought I was. In fact, I'd barely started it. The doula told me I was six centimeters dilated, and that I'd likely been in labor for close to twelve hours at that point.

"No, that's not possible," I protested from my reclined position on the sofa. "I wasn't having contractions until now."

"Trust me, you were," the doula grinned from her place between my knees. She slipped off her blue latex gloves and tossed them in the trash as she stood up. "I'm willing to bet they were just really mild up until you started leaking."

It was a relief to know my water breaking didn't mean I was going to deliver right there and then; but it also sucked knowing I was still in for a long ride.

I spent the rest of that night laboring around the farmhouse. It was so nice to not be stuck in a hospital room that time. I was free to do as I pleased, which Ray and Tess were sure to make clear.

Ray opened a few of the windows to let the sounds of crickets and frogs in, as well as the sweet-smelling breeze of the countryside. Meanwhile, Tess made it her life's mission to make me as cozy as possible -- no matter where I ended up. Thanks to her, pillows followed me from the sofa to the floor, from the floor to the recliner, and then back to the sofa.

Eventually, I got too restless to sit still and I needed to be upright. I was on my feet for the rest of active labor, hanging from the edges of furniture or leaning on either Tess or Ray for support during the contractions. Neither of them minded a bit.

It didn't hurt any less than the first time I went into labor. At times, I was so overcome by the increasing horrible sensations that I began screaming. Each time that happened, either Tess or Ray (whichever I was currently clinging to) would wrap their arms around me and the other would redirect my focus.

"Look at me, doll," Tess said, taking my face in her hands while Ray held me upright.

I was hyperventilating and sobbing my way through a nasty contraction and had forgotten how to use my legs.

"Look at me," she repeated gently. "Focus on my face. See my eyes? My nose? My mouth?" she pointed to each feature as she listed them. "Just think about what'cha see. Think about every detail 'ya can."

It was a technique that sounded stupid on paper, but in practice it was very effective at keeping me grounded. If I counted each of Tess's eyelashes or tried to trace the shape of her mouth in my mind's eye, then I didn't focus on the pain.

I could do it. I knew I could. I'd done this whole song and dance before without painkillers. I could do it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At ten in the morning, eight hours after arriving at the house, I finally felt the shift that told me I was almost done with this.

I was kneeling on the hardwood floor of the living room, my thighs supported by the shallow birthing stool the doula had brought. Beneath me was an absorbent blue pad. Based on the design of the packaging it was pulled it from, it was supposed to be for potty training puppies. Weird...but if it worked, it worked -- and it was certainly needed. The head was descending quicky, and a few bloody strands of cervical mucus were dripping from me as the last of it gave way.

I'd shed the damp pajamas I came in, but the sweat rolling down my back made me shiver each time an outdoor breeze came through. Tess draped a thin blanket over my shoulders and stayed at my back, her hands never leaving my upper arms as I bowed my head and wailed through a transition contraction.

Ray knelt a few feet in front of me, the doula at his side. He looked a strange mixture of nauseous and excited -- we had decided he would be the one to catch the baby, and the doula was talking him through the process ahead of time. I noticed he was holding a hand to his heart as he listened to her, the sea glass bracelet hanging from his wrist.

We all knew it was about to happen.

When the head finally lodged itself into my birth canal, I said nothing. I just acted. I gripped the front edges of the foot-tall birthing stool and let out a feral growl as I started to push. A chorus of encouragement came from the people around me:

"That's it, doll! C'mon!"

"Go with the urge, Fawn. You've got this!"

"Very good, that's what we like to see."

Having gravity on my side this time made pushing feel much less like a chore. I could feel Suri working her way down each push I gave, and she usually stayed where she was once I let up. Kneeling on the stool seemed to be easing her down exactly where she needed to go.

I let out a yelp -- of surprise more than pain -- as I suddenly felt her head pressing against the skin of my perineum. The pressure opened my lips up like a flower, and the doula shined a flashlight underneath me to confirm her head was visible just inside the bulge of my lips, sitting there ready to crown with the next push.

And holy fuck, did she crown! The burn started the second her scalp met the outside air.

"Oww! God-fucking-damn it!" I white-knuckled the wooden stool, a strangled scream leaving my throat as I felt the head bulge out further, peeling my vagina apart like some demented fruit.

Ray scooted closer, rubbing alcohol up and down his arms in preparation to catch. With the doula watching over his shoulder and aiming a flashlight down so he could see, Ray slipped his hands beneath me. I felt his fingers prodding the skin around the head.

"Just like that, yes," the doula told him. "Help her open, this baby seems to be eager."

"No shit!" I roared, my arms trembling as another push sent the head rushing downward. "Fuck!"

I felt Ray's fingers trace the circumference of his daughter's head as more of it emerged, heard the quiet squelching of the afterbirth coating his fingers. When I no longer had the contraction to help me, I let up. Ray kept trying to massage my vagina open, even as I was trying to rest.

"Stop!" I snapped, and he withdrew.

Tess was hiding behind me, her hands on my shoulders the only reminder she was there. She peeked over my shoulder at her husband during the brief lull in my screaming.

"How far is she out?" she asked, unable to see for herself.

The doula craned her neck. "Almost fully crowned."

"She has so much hair," Ray said with a breathy laugh.

"She does," the doula agreed with a grin. "Her daddy's hair, too. Very dark."

I tilted my head to the side, panting heavily but morbidly curious. "Can...can I feel?" I asked.

The doula took my hand and lead it below my belly. I gasped in awe when I touched the hot, gooey ball of hair sticking out from my body.

"Woah..." I muttered, not sure what to else to say.

My fingertips wandered between my legs for a few seconds, and it was both fascinating and horrifying how my anatomy felt nothing like my own body. Everything was stretched and moved around, and it didn't feel like I was touching anything resembling a human body part -- save for the head sitting where a head shouldn't be. Frightened, I pulled my hand back just in time to bear down against a new contraction.

"Hands out, Ray," the doula gently encouraged. "Here she comes."

I felt Tess press her forehead into my upper back. I think she was feeling faint.

"Ah!" A sharp cry, almost a bark, shot from me as the head reached a full crown for a few terrible seconds. Then, with a wet slip, her whole head came free.

"Holy Mother Gaia..." Ray marveled in a half-whisper. His hands cupped the head hanging under me with the most attentive care in the world.

He didn't have much time to admire the view, I wasn't done pushing. I screamed through closed lips as I felt the ring of flesh just behind my skin get stretched wider than it had ever been. I knew something was wrong as soon as that stabbing, tearing burn began. Suri was two weeks early, but she suddenly felt bigger than my son had been.

"Pull her out!" I begged, remembering what the doctor had done. "Just pull her out!"

"Can't," the doula said. "Her hands are up by her ears, there's nowhere for us to grab."

"Take it slow, Fawn," Ray offered. "I've got her, there's no reason to rush."

I took a few quick pants and rested, hoping the stabbing burn would lessen if I let myself stretch out. It's no wonder it hurt so bad delivering her shoulders, she was making this part more difficult than it needed to be.

Tess's hands lightly squeezed my arms and I felt her hiding her face in the blanket draped over my back. Yeah, she was definitely on the verge of passing out.

Gravity was pulling on Suri even as I was trying to let myself stretch, and the shifting pressure triggered me to push without the aid of a contraction.

"Aughh, Suri come on!" I begged, pushing so hard my vision was going double.

Maybe saying her name was intimidating enough to get her to move, because with that push I felt her arms pop free. Ray gasped, and I felt his hands shift to support her upper body as the rest of her slipped out of me. I heard fluid splash and splatter onto the puppy pad, and just a second later, Ray lifted a small blue baby up from under me.

"Get her breathing," the doula urgently instructed. "Turn her over and rub her back. Support her head."

Ray obeyed, gently flipping Suri over on his lap and rubbing his large hand over her back. Her head hung disturbingly limp on her neck as he jostled her around, but I knew that's what it was supposed to be like. It still looked scary.

Suri splayed her arms out, as if she's been surprised, and let out a gurgling wail as her first breath.

"There she is," Ray sighed with releif, turning her back over to hold her in his arms. The doula whipped out a small towel and draped it over her body to keep her warm.

Tess came back to life and rushed to be beside her husband the instant she heard the baby cry. The moment she saw Suri in her daddy's hands, she dropped to her knees and covered her mouth. Her eyes spilled over, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Oh, Ray!" she cried, her voice shaky and breaking. She reached out and pet her daughter's wet mop of black hair. "Ray, she's beautiful!"

Ray couldn't answer, he was too choked on tears of his own. Both parents held their daughter between their bodies, too joyful for words to express. Their tears and shared kisses told the story, though.

As for me, I wasn't too sure what to make of the situation. She was out, she was healthy, and her parents would be taking it from here. My job was done; but it did feel a bit...abrupt.

"Fawn," Tess turned to me, uselessly trying to dry her eyes, "do you want to hold her?"

I didn't think, I just spoke: "Yes. I've never held a baby before."

Ray and Tess lifted Suri up to me. Ray adjusted my hold so I could support the places that needed it, and Tess made sure the bloodied towel was in place so Suri wouldn't get cold. Within seconds, there I was with a minute-old baby in my arms, sitting against my bare chest.

I stared down silently at the tiny person who had been living inside me the last nine months. She was screaming her head off, but her lungs were sounding clearer each time her mouth opened. Her pink, toothless gums reminded me of a fish's mouth.

"Hey, Suri," I said, my voice sounding far away. "Must feel better out here, huh?" Suri wailed again, unhappily flailing her arms and legs around. "Or not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rested on the sofa, extra puppy pads beneath me, as the doula and the parents did the 'lotus ceremony' on the other side of the room. I'd had to sit on that stool for an extra twenty minutes until the placenta passed -- Ray and Tess wanted to have a lotus birth, where the cord was burned through only after the afterbirth was delivered.

I didn't want to know what they planned to do with the placenta itself.

Ray had offered to drive back to the women's shelter later that day to grab my duffel bag for me. In my panic, I'd completely forgotten the overnight bag I'd packed. So, for the time being, I was naked and covered only by the thin blanket Tess had given me.

The lotus ceremony finished up, and Ray and Tess pulled up some chairs to sit beside me. Tess had gone topless and had laid a sleeping Suri carefully across her chest, doing skin-to-skin so they could establish the proper mother-baby bond. Her eyes were red and raw, and fresh tears were falling from them.

"Fawn," she began, "you'll never know how much this means 'ta us."

"You're welcome," I said, offering the couple a tired smile. "She was a rowdy tenant, but I'd gladly do it again to give you guys the family you want. You'll be an amazing mom, Tess."

Tess let out a small sob that turned into a chuckle. "Thank 'ya."

Ray rubbed his wife's back, his own fresh tears falling. "We have something very special to give you, Fawn. It's...the closest thing we have to fully repaying you."

Tess nodded. "Money ain't enough. It would never be enough."

In sync, both couples removed the pieces of jewelry I'd never seen them without: Tess, her quartz pendant; Ray, his sea glass bracelet. Without a word, both new parents bestowed the items on me as if it were a coronation. Tess slipped the pendant around my neck and flipped my hair out from under the chain it hung on. Ray carefully slid the band of clattering sea-green beads over my hand until it came to rest softly on my wrist.

I looked at the new gifts with a grateful smile. "Something to remember you guys by?"

The couple gave each other one of their classic knowing grins.

"No," Tess said. "We chose these items months ago. They were always intended for who our surrogate would be."

I tilted my head to the side like a confused dog -- I guess the puppy pads were appropriate after all. "What?"

"From the day we met you, we've been praying over them," Ray explained, repeating the hand-over-heart motion I'd frequently seen him do with the hand that had worn the bracelet. "Each milestone we reached, we made sure our joy in the moment was stored in the crystals."

"Quartz is best to channel the energy of a mother, for Mother Gaia," Tess explained. "Glass shaped by the sea is best for a father's energy, for all life was fathered by the sea."

We were silent for a while, just staring at each other. The only sound was the soft cooing Surinder made in her sleep.

"We want you 'ta be a part of this family, Fawn," Tess said. "We've put a part of our essence into these crystals. Our joy, our love, our gratitude. So, whenever 'ya wear 'em, we'll be with 'ya."

Now I was crying. I opened my jaw to say something, but nothing came.

"We've talked about it, and..." Ray said with a smile. "...if you would like to, we'd be more than happy to have you stay here with us until you get back on your feet."

"Livin' out here has been much less of a headache than in the city," Tess continued. "We could help you find a nice 'lil place of your own sometime soon, a home where you can make a life for 'yaself."

There was another pause. I let tears fall silently down my bewildered face.

"You don't talk much about 'ya family," Tess said. "You don't owe us no explanation, but...Ray and I figured...you might need someone in 'ya corner."

That was it. That was the killing blow.

I jumped forward and threw my arms over Ray, collapsing into sobs I hadn't experienced in months. I would've grabbed both of them, but Tess had the baby. I didn't actually say anything to them, but I think they got the message.

Maybe there was something to those New Age ideas of theirs. As I sat there sobbing, I swear I could feel the warmth of Tess and Ray's love seeping into my skin through those minerals.

It seeped through my blood and sinew, and even though bone. It settled into the bleeding wound in my soul that refused to heal, the one that had been torn open the first time I called my family after the fallout:

My own mother, the one who promised to love me no matter what life threw, plunged the knife in and twisted it. The last words she ever spoke to me...were a threat to kill me if I ever tried to come back home.

The warmth of Ray and Tess's gift poured into that wound like warm honey -- not healing it, but soothing it for the first time in three years.

Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe the heat in the jewelry was just from their body heat.

But I was sure about one thing:

I wasn't alone anymore.

~ END ~

[traintrainingmontage]

Received a trick-or-treat from @thebunnylord , but accidentally deleted it! Whoops! Thank you for the ask!

Hmmmmm... TREAT!

Edward smiled at the parade of passengers streaming out of his train, all bedecked in costumes to celebrate the spooky season. Halloween had never been particularly popular on Sodor until recent years, when "social media" and "internet trends" (Edward was pretty sure those had to do with the so-called "smartphones" that everyone, even his own driver and fireman, seemed to have nowadays) had inspired the younger residents of the island to organize halloween gatherings in their communities. From there, larger events were organized, and parties and trick-or-treating were slowly becoming more popular as Sodor's various tourist-focused industries decided to take part in the fun.

Edward, for his part, was enjoying the festivities very much. The energy was infectious as children and families ran around in adorable outfits, excited that the trains were running a little later tonight. Emily had even been asked to pull a train for a Ghost Tour, a task that she was entirely delighted to do.

However, Edward himself was simply running his usual local passenger train along the branch, perfectly content to do so. His coaches had been adorned with shimmering fairy lights inside to add to the ambiance, and his crew had even hung some small ghost decorations in his cab. It was the closest that he could get to wearing any sort of costume while he was working, but Edward hardly minded. It made his crew smile, and that's what mattered most.

As he waited at Suddery to continue his run, a little girl, followed closely by her parents, bounded up to Edward with all of the youthful exuberance of an engine fresh out of the works. She was clearly in costume, clutching a bag close to her chest, but Edward had no frame of reference for what exactly she was wearing. If he had to guess, she was probably some kind of monster; that, or a mascot from a children's show. It was getting harder and harder to tell. "Hello, Mr. Engine! I'm Cindy. What's your name?"

Edward couldn't help but chuckle. "Hello, Cindy. My name is Edward."

"Edward! So cool! Mommy, Daddy! This is Edward."

Cindy's parents smiled warmly at Edward as they approached; while Edward wasn't sure about their names, what he was sure about was that they were regular passengers. "Yes, Cindy," the girl's mother chuckled. "I know Edward very well. He helps me get to work."

The girl's eyes lit up as she stared at Edward in awe. "Ohhhhhh! Ok!" She reached into the bag, and pulled out a single piece of candy. "Here, Edward! I bet it's hard for you to go trick-or-treating, so here's a sweet!"

Edward paused a moment, not wanting to refuse the offer (he knew how much children loved candy, so Cindy willingly giving hers up was a gesture of great kindness) but knowing full well that he couldn't eat it. Thankfully, he didn't have long to worry as his driver--kind and reliable as always--stepped off the footplate a moment to take the candy. "Thank you, Miss Cindy," he smiled jovially. "I'll make sure that Edward enjoys this later, when he's not working."

"Ok!!" Cindy beamed, perfectly content with this answer, and turned her moonlit gaze to Edward. "Bye, Edward! We're gonna get on now!"

Edward smiled widely, giving the girl and her family a joyful _peep!_ as they headed for the coach.

While it was true that haunts and frights abounded on Halloween, it was the treats and smiles that Edward enjoyed the most.

[shunin-gumis]

Mistery on the Moonlit Passage - Track 03

Seasonal Event Story

Things are getting interesting!

Location: Cruise Liner - Party Venue

Yukikaze: What’s wrong, Ryui?

Yukikaze: Oh, I see. They’ll need pillows if we want them to sleep comfortably.

Ryui: Wrong. There’s obviously something off about this if they all ended up snoozing at the same time.

Ryui: Doesn’t matter if they’re all “just” asleep, someone did this to Toi, and I’m not resting till I deck that fucker. 

Muneuji: A culprit… So you believe someone orchestrated this? 

Nanaki: Wha… So they’re hiding somewhere in here…? 

Netaro: Indeed! There are no intelligent life forms outside this vicinity. Which means that aaaalll the humans onboard are asleep, in here! 

Yukikaze: Is that right? 

Netaro: According to my invention, the “Buzzy-Buzz Life Detector Heartbeat Radar,” that would be the case indeed!

Nanaki: (Why does he have something like that on him…) 

Netaro: Why do I have this on my person? Because I created it just now! 

Ryui: That means… 

Muneuji: The culprit is among the 5 of us? 

Yukikaze: Oh no… Could it be possible that I caused this mass-sleeping incident without even knowing it…? 

Netaro: A culprit who isn’t even aware of their own actions! You rarely see those in mysteries~

Nanaki: Nah, no way. Kamina-san was with me on the sky deck and all the way back here. There’s no way he could’ve done it. 

Netaro: And what about before then!? Nana and Yuki, the two of you were on your lonesome before you met up on the sky deck, is it not true? Perhaps you could have pulled it off then! 

Nanaki: Erm… Even if you say that… 

Netaro: Nana, why did you go outside? 

Nanaki: T-That’s… 

Sleeping Yodaka: I want to know… All about you… Every inch… 

Sleeping Yachiyo: Oh… please forgive me… pardon me… Munya… 

Netaro: Nay! You shall not be pardoned! I suggest we conduct a thorough investigation!

Yukikaze: I do not wish to doubt my little brothers. 

Nanaki: Even if you tell us to investigate, none of our smartphones are working, so we can’t even call for help. Shouldn’t we prioritize other things, like whether the ship is operating like it’s supposed to? 

Muneuji: On a positive note, this ship is steered automatically, so we should still reach the port in due time. I believe we should focus on looking after our colleagues, and leave this matter to the police—

Netaro: No, no, NO! We MUST search for the culprit~~~! Otherwise I might simply melt away from the boredom… 

Ryui: And the cat’s out of the bag. 

Netaro: But Ryui, surely you’re dying to know the truth behind this incident, yes?

Ryui: …First, we share our alibis. We’ll decide if one of us is behind this after that. 

Netaro: Yes indeed! Yuki and Nana are not the only ones who are suspicious, after all.

Netaro: Uji seemed strangely out of breath when we had met earlier, and Ryui was wandering about alone, carrying a large and suspicious clump of fabric!

Ryui: Suspicious this and strange that, you’re the last person I wanna hear it from. 

Netaro: Why of course! I am plenty suspicious as well~

Muneuji: Well then, as fellow suspicious individuals, allow me to speak first.

Muneuji: I would like to share what I witnessed, to prove my innocence. 

[wildflower-otome]

[Translation] Bustafellows Season 2 - Scarecrow Short Story

Source: Bustafellows Season 2 Stella Set Special Bonus Booklet

Scarecrow Short Story – Something pink or white

‘I’ll be right back.’

Once the waiter returned to the kitchen, the diner became quiet again. Although there weren’t many people there so late at night, the lights were as dazzlingly bright as ever. Because there were no customers to put coins into the old jukebox, and there was only the radio playing across the interior on low volume, it felt as if we could hear even the sounds of the lights flickering on and off.

‘What is it they call places like this again?’

‘Huh? Places like this?’

‘Yeah, you know.....empty parking lots and shopping malls, those sorts of places.....’

Teuta took out her smartphone.

‘Hold up!’

I covered the screen of her phone with my hand.

‘What’s with you, Crow?’

‘C’mon, don’t just go looking it up, let’s try and remember it together.’

‘Hmm-.....it was like, “something” space, wasn’t it.....’

‘That’s right, “something” space.....’

Looking upwards as she tried to recall the name, Teuta was muttering to herself. She looked so adorable; I couldn’t help but smile.

Going out for a late-night drive and then to a diner for a midnight meal like this had become a recent fad for Teuta and I.

With all the city lights on, it didn’t feel right that there was hardly anyone around. A period of time that made me feel strange, like we were characters in a glitchy video game. Fascinated by the feeling that it was as if we were the only two people left in the city, we sometimes went out for drives in the dead of night.

‘Liminal space!’

‘Eh-!?’

Teuta’s voice was so loud that I was momentarily startled.

‘Ah, sorry, that came out louder than I thought.....Hey, it’s liminal space, isn’t it? You know, places that make you feel sort of anxious just being there.’

‘That’s it, liminal space.’

In a place that should be familiar, an airspace that made you feel strangely uneasy. .....But to me, it was a world with just the two of us, where all the other NPC’s had been glitched out of existence.

‘Heheh, doing stuff like this really is kind of fun. Like we’re on a trip. Even though we’ll be going home straight away, it’s strange.’

‘I totally get it! I was just thinking of saying the same thing! It’s like we’ve gone travelling!’

‘Right? Going out like this sometimes is nice.’

‘You say “sometimes”, but you know this is the third time this week we’ve done this, right?’

‘1.....2, 3! You’re right!’

Teuta took my hand that was on top of the table and held it as if it were only natural. And I too, returned her grip as if it were no big deal. Even though it wasn’t something to be taken for granted, at some point it had become the norm for us. I wondered when exactly that had been. 

‘Thank you for waiting.’

The waiter placed two large bowls on the table. Once we gave them their tip, they quickly went back to the kitchen.

And then it became a world with just the two of us.

‘Ahaha-’

‘What’s wrong? Not what you ordered?’

‘Not exactly, we asked for ramen, right? But it’s gotten so soggy, it’s like thick noodle pasta.’

‘It really has, there’s hardly any broth left at all-!’

I hadn’t expected much from late night diner food, but I couldn’t help but laugh at ramen that had swelled up so much it had become noticeably larger in size.

‘.....It tastes good, but also kinda doesn’t. Heheh-’

It was the kind of flavour that made me laugh as I ate it. Well, if I had to say straight up whether it was delicious or not, it was pretty awful. And because it was late at night, I’d had to pay more for it than I would have during the day. But I didn’t care about the taste. In a glitched world with just the two of us, anything I ate tasted good. 

‘...............’

‘Teuta? Something the matter?’

‘.....No, I’m alright.’

‘.....You’re not alright. Just now, you were about to say something but didn’t, right?’

‘Yeah.....I was just thinking this was lacking a mouthful of something.’

‘This? Um, more than just “a mouthful”, the whole thing is kind of.....’

I started to speak, but then stopped. Because I could tell that Teuta was trying to find the words to continue.

‘.....These, pink things. I always used to eat two of them.’

‘Huh? Ah, those?’

‘Yeah. You know, they always have them. Those ingredients with the cute looking pink and white pattern. I always used to eat two lots of them. My brother always used to give me his before I even noticed. And I sort of, just suddenly remembered that.’

‘Teuta.....’

‘Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have talked about this.....Ah, it’s not like, a really sad story or anything like that, you know? I just sort of remembered it a little, that’s all.’

So speaking, Teuta laughed as if not quite sure what to do.

‘.....It’s not alright.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s still not alright, is it? Isn’t there still more you want to talk about?’

‘But.....’

‘If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but if you do, go ahead and tell me. I want to hear what you have to say, Teuta.’

Teuta looked down for a moment, then after taking a small breath, opened her mouth to speak again.

‘When my brother disappeared, I never thought I’d recover. I really thought it was impossible, that I’d have to keep doing my best to pretend like I wasn’t sad forever. Of course, Luka and Adam were always there for me, but.....’

‘Yeah.....’

Teuta looked up and held my hand tight.

‘But, you know, now I feel like even if today was tough, tomorrow will be OK, and even if today and tomorrow are tough, I can believe I’ll be OK the day after that for sure. And do you know why?’

‘“Why”....because enough time’s gone by?’

‘Because that’s what you always tell me, Crow.’

‘Huh, me!? I’ve got something to do with it!?’

‘You changed my life, Crow. So, you see.....even if I only get to eat one of these pink things now, I don’t feel so lonely anymore. You get me?’

‘.....Haha, I see.’

I somehow managed to laugh saying, “You really mean that,” and squeezed Teuta’s hand back.....That should have been it, but it ended up taking a while for me to take in what Teuta had said. I had changed Teuta’s life.....hearing that, I felt as if I were about to cry despite myself. Not metaphorically, as in, another way to say that I was ‘happy’, but actual tears seemed about to overflow from my eyes.

‘......Here.’

‘What is it? Ah, the pink things.....’

‘You can have mine. In place of your brother, I’ll give them to you. That way you can still keep eating two of them from now on.’

‘.....Thank you.’

I wondered what kind of person Teuta’s brother had been. That said, I did know that a lot of things had happened with him. I understood that it wasn’t an easy topic. But if I had been able to meet the version of her brother that Teuta had loved so much, I wonder what we would have talked about.

‘.....Crow, what are you thinking about?’

‘Huh? Well.....I was thinking that I would have liked to have met your brother, to have gotten to know him. Ah, that is.....I know a lot of things happened but.....all the same.’

‘.....Thanks, Crow. By the way.....’

‘What is it?’

‘You already half ate these pink things, didn’t you?’

‘Ah, crap, you found out?’

‘There are bite marks on them.’

Laughing while she talked, Teuta still took up the half-eaten pieces and munched them down.

(.....I don’t mean to be down on myself, but truthfully, there really are times where I think that I’m no match for you. I think you’re a much better person than I am. Although even if I were to tell you that, you’d probably get mad at me and say that’s not true. Still, there are moments when I think I surpass you. When it comes to how much I love you, that is.....)

‘Whatcha thinking about, Crow?’

‘Huh? Nothing much? I was just thinking the ramen might get even bigger if I were to wait a little longer.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Teuta laughed. I’d said the words hoping that she would laugh, and she had.

[littlestarlost]

Yellowjackets is a show about trauma. I don't know what else to tell you.

Alright, blood hive, here we go again.

We're about halfway through season 2 at this point, and I remain more convinced than ever that a large portion of the viewing public is not fundamentally listening to what the wilderness the showrunners are trying to say. If you're looking for a singular capital-R Reason for everything we see in the show, you're looking at the wrong stuff. So here are some more thoughts.

(Spoilers for all of Yellowjackets up to S2E5, "Two Truths and a Lie")

One: Yellowjackets is a show about trauma and its relationship to magical thinking.

I get another grey hair every time I see someone trying to puzzle out just what is in the woods.

There's nothing in the woods, y'all. Nothing. Until I'm proven wrong by the show itself, this is the hill I will stubbornly die on. But show has been EXTREMELY consistent this whole time in its ambiguity, and in my opinion anyone using the red string and thumbtacks approach to Yellowjackets is being played for a fool. It doesn’t matter if there’s actually an entity in the woods (there isn’t), or if Lottie actually has powers (she doesn’t); what matters is that the survivors are clinging to any answers they can grasp in a situation full of unknowns, and so are we. Part of what’s so devastating about their plight is that there’s no real reason for any of it. This is the basis for literally every religion humans have ever had; we’ve been grasping at ritual and magical thinking for millennia. We are observing the growth of that dependence and ritual right now, in the second season. We are also seeing the consequences of that situation in the future. We are seeing how the power of thought can provide both comfort and further trauma.

I suspect that we will never learn the meaning behind the mysterious symbol. I've seen theories that it's a witch's mark, or even that it's a miner's signal and that all the weird stuff happening to the Yellowjackets is the result of mercury poisoning because they're inadvertently on top of an old mine. That's a nice theory, but I don't think it's correct, and I also don't think it should be revealed anyway. It doesn't ultimately matter what the symbol meant to the dead guy or his cabin; what matters is what the symbol represents for the Yellowjackets themselves.

Two: Yellowjackets is a show about trauma and the way it twists the unknown.

I am fascinated but frustrated by the apparent age split with fans. It seems to me that there's a pretty good-sized gap between the older fans of the show, who would have been kids/teenagers in the 90s (including me), and the gen Z viewers, the latter of which seem unable to really really understand just how wild the wilderness is. The generational split here is with those who remember how VCRs work because we had them and those who have never needed to know. It's a split between we who went through our primary school years without access to Wikipedia and those who have had the wealth of human knowledge in their pockets since they were children.

I’ve watched people do all sorts of questioning and speculating, and it almost always traces back to whether or not you understand how the world worked before smartphones, AKA most of human history. Let me answer some of those questions right now off the top of my head:

How could the Yellowjackets not be found for 19 months?

People used to just fucking vanish, fam. We did not have GPS, we did not have trackers, we barely had battery-powered walkmen. People vanished all the time, and were never ever seen again. Sometimes they did it on purpose, and a lot of the time they disappeared by accident or malice, and a lot of times they died. 1996 doesn't seem that long ago in terms of technology, but it is. People still go missing to this day, even with all our tech tracking us everywhere. Canada is fucking huge and a lot of it is mostly wilderness. Here's a photo I found from Statistics Canada with the population density of Ontario; the black areas represent places where there's basically goddamn nothing but wilderness.

2. How was there no road to the Cabin Guy's Cabin? How did he get there? How did he get supplies there?

He had a plane, and also, once again: people used to disappear all the time. In his case, he seems to have done it on purpose.

3. How could Shauna possibly deliver a child in those conditions? How could the baby be getting the nutrients it needs?

People did this successfully for tens of thousands of years, you guys. You're literally reading this post because our ancestors successfully birthed children in the middle of fucking nowhere with zero medical aid or support.

4. How could Lottie know about the bear or the starlings or or or...?

Easy: she doesn't. Not entirely, anyway. She's an empathetic person who's really good at dealing with the emotions of other people and has a sense of spirituality that appears brave and confident, and people in dire situations with a lot of chaos will depend on that with their lives.

And speaking of Lottie...

Three: Yellowjackets is a show about trauma and how it forces you to transform.

At the end of last season I believed that we were going to get a Lottie Villain Era, just like everyone else. I do not believe that now.

Everything we have seen of Lottie shows a girl who was subjected to medical abuse and/or neglect from a very very young age. Regardless of her actual powers or lack thereof, she was placed on medication by her parents and didn't come off of it until she was in a super traumatizing situation in the wilderness. During this most recent season, we have seen both Teenage and Adult Lottie struggle with her role as a spiritual leader and advisor; she's good at it, but it drains her. It isn't something she's doing out of a desire for power or control: it's something she's doing as a trauma response. That trauma response is helping others, so she keeps doing it, but it's still a trauma response. Trauma transforms you into somebody new, over and over again. The scars you bear become your armor, and then your mask, and then it's hard to know where you end and the trauma begins.

Taissa, too, is transformed by trauma. Her other self is a trauma response, similar to alters in a DID system. It comes to the front when Taissa can't deal, and it's both helpful and harmful. I'm willing to bet a lot of her college years were spent sleepwalking, as the Other One dealt with exams and soccer games and law school. Any one of us with dissociative trauma responses can speak to the way that dissociation can be a savior and an abuser in the same breath.

Four: Yellowjackets is a show about trauma and how it compounds on itself.

This most recent episode showed Natalie coming to a realization about the last time she saw Travis, and she says the words we've heard in the season trailers: there was something in the woods, something they brought back with them. Or maybe it was in them the whole time.

In my previous essay I talked about how each Yellowjacket arrived in the woods with her own traumas strapped to her back. In my mind, that's what Natalie is talking about. There is no entity in the woods to blame for all of this, no ghost or witch who can be credited with the trauma the girls experienced and inflicted. There is only the trauma itself, in all its many shapes and sizes, in all the ways it fills in the gaps and makes shadows dance by firelight and drives us to the very brink of madness, holding us back by a fraying tether.

Yellowjackets is a show about trauma. The show's theme song rings out every episode: No return, no return, no reason. There is no return to the way things were. There is no return that can erase what you've been through. There is no reason for all of this, except for the one that's been very explicitly outlined via themes and story and dialogue and flashbacks and framing.

Yellowjackets is a show about trauma. It's the only answer we have, and I suspect--and hope--that it's the only answer we're ever going to get.